Sundeep Agarwal - Eagle Luck
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- Book:Eagle Luck
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- Year:2019
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To my school friends and teachers.
We couldnt wait to be grown up during school days, only to wish we were kids again after graduating. Building a time machine may be beyond human capabilities, but our mind is good enough to recall traces of our childhood. A casual tea-time conversation with my colleagues about eagles brought up memories of the academic year 1995/96. Recollecting as many events as I could, I shaped them into a fictional version. Hope you enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.
Mithun whistled his favourite tune on the way to school, happy that the monsoon rains hadnt delayed the start of a new school year. The rainy week had been fun though. He had tasted ole , caught tiny fishes with his old clothes from the overflowing puddles, waded through waist high flooded streets and so on. The sun had finally come out the previous afternoon and graced them with a rare double rainbow. The neighbourhood was abuzz that the rest of the year would be lucky for them.
The school books, including the diary with school songs, had been interesting to skim through during the rain induced power cuts. His Maa had helped to neatly laminate and label them. He was disappointed that the main school branch had the same uniform as the primary branch he had attended till third standardkhaki shorts, half-sleeved white shirt, black belt, black shoes, navy socks and navy tie.
As Mithun neared the school, he was astounded by the sheer number of students, parents and vehicles moving about the main gate. Before he could wonder further, he spotted his best friend getting down from an auto. He rushed to greet him, elated that his Maa was right about most students continuing to main branch instead of joining another school. The schools reputation was worth the trouble to travel to the outskirts of the town.
After getting directions, the pair immersed themselves in getting to know their new surroundings. The huge roofed auditorium that seemed half the size of their primary school. Classrooms stacked three storeys high. The cement walkway. The glass windows looking into large shelves of books in the library. The canteen teeming with students. The glimpse of playground to their right. The tall hostel building.
A corridor separated two sections of fourth standard and the hostel. Steps led forward to the rest of the sections. A few drumstick trees were growing on the sandy ground in front of these classrooms. Mithun lost a peanut bar to his friend having challenged that there wouldnt be more than five sections. Turned out that the sections went up to G compared to four they had in the primary branch.
Dheena and his friend entered the school as usual from the back gate, which was less crowded than the main gate. After they had crossed, Dheena excitedly pointed out the school bus named Mango going past the Church.
His friend wasnt amused. You still havent grown out of your obsession with yellow coloured objects? And Chocolatey is the fastest school bus anyway.
Wavwa wawa. Yellow is the lucky colour. Just you watch, today be a lucky day, smirked Dheena.
They proceeded to walk on the pathway in between the stage and the playground. The seesaws, climbers, slides, chin-up bars and merry-go-rounds were all bustling with kids, despite the wet ground. Instead of joining them, the pair went ahead and passed the hostel to reach their classroom.
Over the years, students had filled the wooden benches with carvings of their imaginary adventures. Dheena spotted two North Indian looking classmates, engrossed in their conversation at one of these four seaters. He dragged along his friend to check them out.
Hello, Im Dheena. His name is Vikraman. What is your name? he asked in English.
Naan Mithun, evan Ramakanth , came the reply in heavily accented Tamil.
Not to be left behind, Dheena recalled his favourite rhyming words learnt from Common Hindi and said, Achcha Bachcha .
All four burst into laughter. Within minutes they were exchanging stories like old friends and vowed to always be together. Dheena suggested to form a gang, inspired by his love for the Tamil movie Baashha. Vikraman became the undisputed boss after his left thumb nail turned out to be the longest.
Ramakanth had enjoyed the first day so far. He felt happy and relieved that Mithun hadnt shifted to another school. But sad that Karthik was among the students to be shuffled to other sections. In turn, students like Vikraman and Dheena had come to B section. Teachers were nice too so far. But he wondered why they couldnt change classes like students did. He missed his class teacher from last year who had helped him a lot. He had even been able to get as high as fifth rank in one of the exams.
Now, he was hungry and hoped that the lunch break was coming soon. Social studies was boring as usual. Somehow he was always getting scolded for talking or playing, unlike his neighbours who seemed to escape punishment most of the time. So he tried to nod as though he was listening. Finally the lunch bell rang and everyone started talking loudly at once. Some chose to eat in the class itself. The gang accepted their leaders idea of eating under the drumstick trees.
Vikraman hadnt expected that hed be leading a gang to lunch on the first day of a new school year. It felt odd in so many ways. He was used to following Dheenas lead. Their evening prowls last year were a blast and he hoped this new gang stuff wouldnt come in their way. The loot wouldnt be easy to share among the four of them. He also doubted if Mithun would participate given that he looked like a very rich kid.
Trying to project authority, Vikraman went boldly to a tree and took the spot with maximum shade. The hot sun had dried the ground. The gang settled down and spread their lunch boxes in a circular fashion. Vikramans box had six idlis along with his favourite tomato chutney. Dheena had brought lemon rice. Both the newcomers had got chappathis and their side dish had something in common too, Lunji and mango pickle. Vikraman and Dheena found them quite tasty and were gobbling it all by themselves. Luckily, Mithun and Ramakanth were happy with their part of the exchange.
Then came the extras. Dheena and Ramakanth hadnt got any that day. Mithun had enough sweets to share despite losing the bet earlier in the morning. Vikraman opened his small box to see that it was a boiled egg, instead of sweets or snacks. He went with the flow anyway and cut it into four pieces. Ramakanth had a horrified expression when Vikraman looked up to hand them out. Vikraman couldnt help himself laughing, Rama, the Brahma, why are you afraid of an egg? Dheena joined in the teasing and quipped, Stupid fellow, just eat it already. Seeing Ramakanth getting queasier and looking towards Mithun for help, Vikraman tried to calm himself. But the damage was already done. Ramakanth left hurriedly and was never part of the gang after that day.
Dheena and Vikraman were hanging from chin-up bars. They were trying to win a bet by lasting longer than the other. The winner would get both the items from the previous evenings haula geometry box and a half-filled notebook. They usually shared the loot, but Dheena insisted on trying something new this time. After five minutes, Dheena could see Vikramans hands slipping from sweat. As soon as Vikraman fell, he let himself go and made a better landing.
See, I was lucky again. Thanks to Mango going past just now, I beat you.
Vikraman was huffing and took his time to come up with a witty reply. How do you explain last weeks events? You said itd be a lucky day but our gang didnt even last past the lunch hour.
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