Lingaree - Is The Body More Profitable Than The Mind?

They would stand at every landing of the three floor staircase. Stern-looking girls all of 13, checking their school-mates from top to bottom. Has the hair been braided properly? Has the shirt been tucked in neatly? Is there enough oil in the hair? Are the shoes polished shiny? Have the nails been cut clean? Is the skirt the perfect shade of pearly white? And is the skirt ending below the knee? Is there anyone wearing any kind of jewellery or accessory? Is anyone talking or giggling or climbing down the stairs two at a time? 

Among the monitors, they would have divided their duties, as instructed by the school captain and her deputies. Some would look at skirts, others would focus on the shoes; Likewise, for nails and hair and line discipline. 

Aurvi Mehta, class 7B, would get caught for something or the other, every couple of days. There was a group of girls in her division who would take bets early in the morning when Aurvi would enter the class, over what she will be caught for today during assembly.

"No bets today I guess. It's so blatant I don't know how she can walk into school like this. I'm sure she did this deliberately." Ratz (Rati Sachdev) told her gang of girls, still staring at Aurvi's muddy black shoes and soiled white socks. 

The gang was of four girls – Ratz, Shilpa, Kriti and Vanita. They were united by their social standing in school. They were that second rung of students who fell below the real stars – the ones who managed to top class, win interschool competitions and bring dates during Christmas panorama; all of it without ever seeming to break a sweat. This second rung comprised of students who constantly worked hard – to get a rank in the top 10, to represent the school in interschool competitions and to get boys to look beyond their hairy forearms and bushy eyebrows, into their warm, eager, pubescent hearts and minds.

When the prayers were said and the day's headlines were read and the thought for the day explained by the sister, the assembly dispersed. The monitors were first instructed to take positions by the PE teacher and then the rest were asked to return to their classrooms quietly and in a single file. The lines of girls standing height-wise turned around and the tallest girls were the first to go past the roving eyes of the monitors. It was soon Aurvi's turn to go past the monitors. The nail monitor let her by, as did the hair monitor. Today she was walking criss-cross on the stairs but the line discipline monitor also let her go because she knew this one was the shoe monitor's prey. When she turned a corner, the shoe monitor saw her from a distance and then down at her shoes. She smiled at her and Aurvi smiled back sheepishly. She just walked over to the shoe monitor and stepped out of the line and stood in a corner, waiting for her usual dose of insult and punishment. 

When all the girls had returned to their classrooms, the miscreants caught by all the monitors were brought back to the assembly ground. They all waited for the PE teacher to come and do the honours. But today, before her, the Principal walked up to the group. 

The Principal, Sister Rosy D'Souza, was a cute-looking burly woman. She was tall and broad but she had the demeanour of a much smaller woman. She was extremely soft-spoken and that made her scary in a very different way. Today she was wearing an olive green saree and her fair face was red with concern. 

"Is Aurvi Mehta here? I need her urgently. Why aren't you girls standing in a line? Where is Vijaya miss?" She asked many questions and then waited for answers. No one said anything, but the crowd parted and Aurvi stepped forward. She bowed slightly and, fearing the worst, greeted her. "Good morning Ma'am. I just slipped in a puddle, that's all. It won't happen again, I promise." It was then that sister Rosy saw her shoes and socks. She paused for a moment, then she shook her head and told Aurvi to follow her. Aurvi separated from the group and rushed to catch up with sister Rosy while the other girls sniggered or talked animatedly in her wake. 

The two ladies started climbing the stairs. They went past the kindgergarten, which was eerily quiet because its kids came in only at 10. They went past the primary section with the 4th grade kids screaming the multiplication table for 12 with considerable fervour; and the toilets and the big mantelpiece on the second floor with pictures of all the board toppers that had graced this school over its 30 years long history. 

Sister Rosy's cabin had a huge sculpture of Jesus and Mary on one end of the room and pictures of Gandhi, Nehru and Ambedkar at the other end. In the center of the room was a large table with her throne-like chair on one side and some minimalistic wooden chairs on the other. In spite of being one of the taller girls, Aurvi's legs would dangle when she would sit on that chair, as she had a couple of times before – once for something she did wrong and once for something she did right. 

Sister Rosy herself was new to the post. She was Aurvi's English teacher till last year when the previous principal had kicked the bucket, leaving the school with a new holiday and a new principal. The two had a chemistry unique to a teacher and her best student. She had taught Aurvi for 3 years before this. She had introduced Wordsworth and Frost and Yeats and Shakespeare to this little girl and seen her always write the most beautiful essays and the most lyrical answers in her papers. Sister Rosy had always ended up giving this girl more marks than she deserved under the rules set by the school. After all, however precocious it would have been for a 11-year-old to mention Wordsworth's lack of consideration for the working class in her reference to context or 'RTC" answer on Daffodils, there were marking schemes on how a 'RTC' has to be evaluated. Sister Rosy was allowed these minor indiscretions only because she was too senior and too loved. 

Now sitting in front of Aurvi, sister Rosy was contemplating how to handle this situation. She knew Aurvi was her best bet but she also knew she was a bit of a loose cannon. "Aurvi, tomorrow is Independence Day and the Chief Minister is coming to hoist the flag. You know that, right?" Aurvi, her face screwed up in concentration and her legs dangling animatedly from the high chair, nodded assertively. "So Vanessa from 9C was going to give a speech tomorrow during the flag-hoisting ceremony. Her mother just called me and told me she has got jaundice so she won't be able to make it tomorrow. What's more that stupid girl hasn't even prepared a speech yet. So I need you to step in and give the speech tomorrow." The dangling legs and the nodding head both stopped moving, and a familiar nervous excitement took over. 

"Now I have seen your essays pretty much since you started writing them. You are very good at it and that's why I am giving you this opportunity. You have always done well at elocution competitions so this should be comfortable for you. But Aurvi, take this seriously. I don't want irresponsible behaviour from you. No random distractions in the speech, no mimicking politicians and no extra smart lines. I need you to follow the format. The topic is freedom and I need you to give a three-minute-long speech. Remember, the Chief Minister will be here, so no mistakes." She quickly removed a pen and tore a blank sheet from a notepad and handed them to Aurvi, signalling her to jot down what she was about to say. "Some of the things you can talk about are the freedom struggle, so many people gave their lives. Talk about our great freedom fighters – Gandhi, Nehru, Bhagat Singh, etc. You can also talk about our wars of 1965 and 1971 and how brave our soliders have been. You can also talk about men who are building India – the Tatas and the Ambanis. Talk about our invention of zero and our Pokhran tests and the PSLV launch. Talk about Sachin also if you want. Have you written all this?" Aurvi held up the sheet she was writing in and nodded. Sister Rosy put her glasses on and read the scrawny handwriting and was fairly satisfied. "OK you should be fine. Now listen, you are in class 7. Usually this opportunity is given to only class 9 students. I am showing confidence in you so you better deliver. I want a good, clean and focussed speech on freedom tomorrow morning. I won't be able to check so I will speak to your mom and ask her to ensure you are following instructions. Take her help to practice the speech and I shall take one rehearsal of yours tomorrow morning. Have you understood everything?"

Aurvi nodded and sister Rosy rose from her throne. "Great. So you can take the rest of the day off and go home and prepare the speech." Aurvi couldn't help but say, "But Ma'am, dance practice today." And cute, saccharine sweet Rosy ma'am glared at her with such ferocity, Aurvi quietly made her way out of the cabin.

The car was sent for Aurvi and she was home even before Pappa had left for work. He was having lunch when she walked into the living room. Momma was serving him hot rotis and Star News was blaring on the TV. Pappa used to eat very noisily and would speak animatedly when eating. "Oru, did they ask you to leave in the middle of the school day? Is this why we pay fees to these people? Your speech is more important than doing your 'lesson'? Will they take extra class for you later? Chor saala. Baddha lootva betha chhe. (Thieves, everyone is here to loot you)."

Aurvi didn't have to answer. Just then Momma walked into the living room and started speaking. "You know such a big opportunity this is? Usually class 9 students get to do this. The Chief Minister is going to be there. Imagine if he gets impressed!"

"Haan toh shu? (So what?) It's not like she is going to get an award or a big job because of giving a speech. We pay for her to go to school and study. Not to give speeches so that the school can impress the CM and get some funding from somewhere. I am telling you, this is all about money. Our daughter is just a pawn in this game. It's because they knew you wouldn't object that they gave her the opportunity." With this, Pappa disappeared into his room to get his office bag. 

When he returned to the living room, Momma gave Pappa his snack-box at the door, as he was tying his shoelaces. She had decided she wanted him out of the house quickly so work could begin with Aurvi. She then handed him his water-bottle and said "Go now. Bye." Pappa muttered something grumpily and banged the door behind him.

Aurvi had opened her shirt button and undone her braid. She had taken over the remote and was watching the trailer of an upcoming film, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. It had her favourite hero in yellow and orange hoodies and heroines all dressed fashionably, dancing around in plush environs. She was so enamoured by it she forgot to say bye to Pappa and was now unaware of the look momma was giving her. 

With her hands on his hips, momma said, "Get changed quickly. This is still school hours so no TV. Put down some points you want to write for the speech before lunch. After lunch you can start writing the speech and we shall sit at 5 in the evening to see how it is. By dinner you should know the speech by-heart and post dinner we will practice it. OK? No TV today and no going downstairs for badminton. If Nishi calls, I'll tell her you won't be coming. If the speech goes well tomorrow, we will go for a movie in the evening and then dinner and then we will drop in at Dada's house. OK?"

Aurvi nodded through that monologue and then she asked "And what about Suru's homework? Will you help him with it?" Momma replied "Yes I will. But no playing cricket at home with him either. Just don't talk to your brother for one day so you can concentrate and it becomes easier for me as well."

With this, Aurvi retired to her room and quickly changed and sat with her bright blue notebook with Mickey Mouse trying to balance a stack of books on its cover. She first fished for sister Rosy's notes in her bag and then started writing her own notes. 

She stepped out when called for lunch at around 1 and while she was having her lunch, her legs dangling from the dining table chair, Momma went through sister Rosy's notes and added a few of her own inputs while Aurvi nodded away, chewing on her bhinda nu shaak and rotli (ladies finger and roti). 

After lunch, momma lied down on the sofa and started watching TV and Aurvi went back to her room to write the speech. At around 3, Shaurya came home from his school and Momma got busy in getting him to change and have some food. In between when she was in the bathroom, Aurvi quietly stepped out and startled Shaurya from behind. She told him how she escaped punishment today in school and he told her how he promised Tazos to the class monitor and escaped punishment too. She had gotten a shell for him from her school ground so she gave it to him and then tickled him till he started laughing very loudly. Momma came rushing and Aurvi looked at her glare and quietly retreated back to her room. 

At exactly 5pm, momma knocked on the room door and entered with Bournvita milk and biscuits. She asked her if the speech was ready and Aurvi handed her the Mickey Mouse notebook. While she gorged on Parle G, momma read the speech, her eyebrows getting more knitted every moment. Just then Shaurya entered and settled in momma's lap. Momma looked up as Aurvi was dipping the first half of a fresh new Parle G in the Bournvita milk. She said, "What is wrong with you, Aurvi?" The dipped Parle G paused near the mouth. "Even if I tell a 4th grade kid like Suru to write the speech, he would do a better job at following instructions." The soggy half of the biscuit fell back in the mug of milk with a plonk and a splash. Shaurya was jumping on momma's lap and he started giggling at Aurvi. Aurvi looked at him with fake anger and imitated his laughter. Momma continued "Oru look at me. Every point sister Rosy gave has been put by you in a single paragraph, just as it is from the notes. And the rest of the speech is about something else completely. Why do you make things so difficult? It's a simple enough speech and a great opportunity. Why can't you just follow instructions and get this over with? We really don't have time for this.

Aurvi, with her elbows on propped up on the bed and the rest of the body leaning on it, said "But momma, the theme is Freedom. Why would I write about our old freedom struggle? I should write about us today na? Everybody always just talks about 1947. I want to talk about today. See how nicely I have written about Sheelu and how she can't go to school? Oh and did you read that part about Aliya and all not being allowed to bring non-veg in their lunch boxes? Since CM sir will be there, I thought I should tell him about how I pray to Mahavir bhagwan at home and to Jesus Christ in school and I am not asked who I really want to pray to. There are so many Gods available. Can't I choose now that we are free since more than 50 years? Oh and momma I also thought I'll write about uniforms and straight lines and hair-braiding. You know I found this poem in the Encyclopedia by Rabindranath Tagore on what is freedom." With this, her little hands lifted a heavy Encyclopdia Brittanica's 'Quessadila – Rousseau' volume, opened the book to the page folded by her earlier and pointed to the poem under the entry for Rabinranath Tagore. 

"But someone is fooling us momma. We don't have all the freedom he talks about in the poem, even though we are a free country since 1947."

With Shaurya singing Vande Mataram in a loud shrill voice in the background, momma's anger only rose further. She told Aurvi "Oru beta. Who told you that you should choose a God if you are independent? You were born a Jain so you have to worship Mahavir bhagwan. You only happen to go to a Christian school so you have to pray to Jesus. That's all there is. Anyway, this speech is not about trying to tell anything to the CM. It's about doing a good job of what exactly your teacher expects from you. So can you just do that, please?"

Oru, still leaning on her elbows had a frown on her face. "I didn't get to do dance practice because of this speech, momma. Now I won't get to play badminton also with Nishi. At least let me give a fun speech. All this Gandhi and army thing is so boring. Every year they say all these things only. Even I write it once at least in school when they ask us to write about my country or patriotism or something. Please momma, let me give this speech na."

Momma was angry now and Shaurya quietly exited the scene. "I am so fed up with you. Now I will write the speech and you go to the market and get vegetables. After dinner we will by-heart it together. This is final. Now go get a pen and paper so I can tell you what vegetables to get. I don't know when you will grow up, Oru. You are so irresponsible."

That night Aurvi mugged up a series of clichés. The funny part is the speech ended with the same Rabindranath Tagore poem, "Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high" But the rest of the speech talked about all the same things that every Independence Day speech spoken in every school ground in this country talked about. By 11:30, momma was exhausted and Aurvi was prepped. In the morning, Aurvi got ready and was driven to school. The driver dropped her outside the gate and headed back to pick Shaurya and take him to his school. Inside the school gate, Aurvi's school ground was also ready to hear the same speech that it had every Independence and Republic Day. 

Except that today it didn't get to hear it. As her car reversed, Aurvi saw Nishi playing badminton with a few others at the garden just outside the school. Aurvi saw Nishi and smiled. And instead of heading inside the school gate, she headed away from it to the garden. She undid her top button and opened her braids and celebrated Independence Day by playing badminton with her friend, while sister Rosy fumed at school and momma fumed at home.

What follows is the story of Aurvi Mehta – troublemaker, smartass, stardust.