Jivika~

"Come on children, I'll be reading out the questions and you'll be answering them. Your prelims are round the corner, just a quick revision."

Simultaneously listening to Suganthi ma'am and studying for my Math test, I pushed my Statistics notes further under the desk, away from the prying eyes of the Biology teacher. It's true. Our pre-boards were approaching and the school teachers as well as Jyothi aunty, our tuition teacher, were chasing us with sticks, quite literally in fact. Tests after tests, but still our Science marks did not see any improvement. This was quite a worry, not only for us but for them too. That one subject was ruining the result of the school this year, mark my words.

"Now, come on. One word. It is the enlarged voice box or larynx which gets enlarged and visible from outside at the onset of puberty. What is it?"

We were fifteen-year-olds, not first graders. The concept of raising hands could be shoved into the gutter cause screaming out the answers loud was one privilege we earned as we grew older. And so, before the teacher clad in the peacock blue saree could protest, Shreyansh Jha screamed out 'Adam's apple', much to her agony and our amusement. He had to be courageous to do that, even after so much embarrassment, I mused.

And true to my expectations, the whole class burst into fits of laughter. Inside jokes let me tell you, inside jokes.

"What's so funny children?"

Faking a cough, the root of all her problems spoke up, taking a deep breath in.

"Ma'am it's because of me."

"You Shreyansh? How come?"

"Ma'am when we were in eighth grade, learning this same reproduction chapter, I was the one reading out in the class as per our teacher's instructions. And this word, 'Adam's apple', I had read it out as 'Adaam's apple'. Till date, these people can't get over that."

Suganthi ma'am, the Science teacher who was not really a Science teacher, had her eyes bulged. It was no hidden fact that she was an M.A in English but taught Science from sixth to the tenth standard, just because she had a B.Sc degree. This very fact could be the reason why we were not scoring well in Science as she was only bothered about the spellings and the structure of the sentences, rather than the Science content.

"Adaam's apple, like the way it rhymes with Badaam?"
[Badaam: Almond]

"Yes ma'am."

"Good Lord, may he bless your soul young boy."

Piercing our ears, the Vice-Principal's announcement rang throughout the school, asking us to assemble in the ground. Right. The school was conducting some counseling session, calling a psychiatrist to give a lecture and all. Walking towards the hall where the event was to happen, I watch Kiara give out a yelp, swatting away a neon green butterfly.

"Really dude?"

"What? I am scared of anything which breathes and flies."

"That's a shame, your mother being a pilot but her daughter ... tch tch. You wanted to be a pilot too, right?"

"Exactly! A plane does not breathe Jivika, common sense."

Before I could retort, a shrill cut through. Smashing a four-hundred-page notebook against his head, Joey, the curly-haired guy who went to the same tuition as ours, let out a cry of desperation. Amused, I smiled. I was not the only one who was struggling, clearly.

"You people, have any of you studied for Jyothi's test?"

Nodding a no, I watched him repeat his actions, as there was no hope left. We all were screwed. Kiara, Lavanya, Amaya, Rhea, and me. None of us were completely prepared. Maahi and Laysa being the ones who did not attend tuitions, were the only relaxed pair. But the tension was sliced into pieces when Lavanya let out a snort.

"Joey you wanna listen to this haiku of mine? Here it goes!"

Clearing out her throat, she began, "Jyothi ki Shivaani, Joey ki Deewani, Jyothi bani Nani!"
["Jyothi's Shivaani, Joey's craze, Jyothi becomes a grandmother!"]

Shivaani was our tuition teacher's daughter. She was around twenty, I think. And shipping these two, especially since there was no way that it could be true, was fun. As his friends and a few others caught the name of a girl being associated with him, we knew that our job was done. With occasional yells of the name 'Shivaani!' from different people in our class, we somehow managed to settle down in the hall.

"Good morning students! I am Dr. Shetty from Dreams Clinic. Before we begin, you can find me on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Follow me and you'll be guaranteed a follow back. Now, come on, note down my user id's all of you, be quick!"

For a greying doctor, he was pretty cool. I had to admit that.

With Kiara on my left and Maahi on my right, I tried to listen to the lecture, for once. Mumbling something to Lavanya's ears, Maahi fell quiet, following my lead. With our good ol' Shreyansh, Parth, and Amaan sitting on the row right in front of us, it was quite difficult to be attentive. I could see an irritated Parth and an agitated Shreyansh who was whining about that Adam's apple.

"So students, how are you feeling? With your board exams coming up next month or somethin'?"

A wide range of answers varying from 'nervous' to 'excited' was served on the silver platter to the doctor. Suffice to say, even he was surprised at the latter answer which only the one and only Purnima could give. Why do the school toppers have to be so annoying? All the teachers favored her. She won every competition in school. Sometimes I could feel this nagging doubt in the back of my head, whether teachers really corrected her paper or just simply assumed that whatever she wrote was right. I mean, even if it is school exams, how could a person score a hundred in every subject? God knows.

"So students, today I am here for you, to calm down those knots in your stomachs. The very first point I would like to tell you, ground your expectations to your potential. You should know what you are capable of."

Droning on, he provided various examples and quite colorful ones, may I add. Cause the guts to say that teachers are the root of all our problems at times, it was commendable, really. Listening to each point with utmost patience and cracking a laugh at the old man's not-so-old jokes, I gripped onto the handle of the seat to not fall off.

"So students, you should always know which type of friends you must be in contact with during the exam times. Two types should be completely avoided. First, the ones who say that they have studied everything. And second, the ones who say that they have studied nothing. Because both of them mean the exact opposite of what they said. Always remember that."

Laughing at the memory of how Maahi always rushed into the class on the morn of the Social Science exam yelling 'I've not studied a thing!' I almost fell from the seat, had it not been for Amaan who chuckled with a 'Careful!' from the front row. I could never forget her unusually high-pitch voice, prevalent only during exams, because of her excitement writing the answers while asking for a supplementary sheet and simultaneously making us jump on our seats, disturbing the silence set in the exam hall.

Realizing that I missed out a bit of Dr. Shetty's lecture, I paid attention to it this time.

"—And the second kind who say they have not studied a thing, but know everything in reality. Those nasty toppers right? Of course, not all toppers are like that but still. Come on guys, do you also have those species?"

Almost jumping from his seat, Shreyansh pointed an accusatory finger at the girl sitting on my left. She gulped, terrified for herself, as his dramatics and our incessant giggles brought the whole school's attention to her, our chhota packet bada dhamaka.
[Chhota packet bada dhamaka: (here) A person who is half the size of her abilities.]

"Issne meri zindagi barbad kiya hai! Meri Mata ji mere peeche padi hai, 'Maahi movies nahi dekhti hai, tabhi toh acche number milte hai!', 'Maahi cricket nahi dekhti tabhi toh!'. Behen tere kaaran saans nahi leh pata apne hee ghar mai!"
["Because of her my life has been destroyed! My mother is chasing me all the time saying, 'Maahi does not watch movies, that's why she scores!', 'Maahi does not watch cricket, that's why!'. Dude, because of you, I can't breathe inside my house!"]

The girl who had to bear the rant gave out a snort at that cricket-comment. The biggest 'bleed-blue-fan' among us. I could feel my stomach aching after all the laughing, but the rest of the audience, including Sonika ma'am, were far from done. Clutching onto my stomach, I breathed in and out, painfully.

"Chivika, relax."

"Tell me something heartbreaking Aman!"

"Firstly, it's Amaan. And secondly, let me think."

I watched him scrunch up his nose, the lines getting etched on his forehead. He was thinking. I could see that.

"Dhoni's wicket in the semi-finals, forty-eighth over?"

"Good, but not enough."

"You'll be leaving forever in two months."

That shut me up. I thought it would not hurt. Truth be told, it did sting a little when he said it like that. Looking away, I glared at the presentation which Dr. Shetty was showing us. Clenching the handle of the seat, I loosened up my gritted teeth. Leaning a bit forward, I knocked on his back, a light brush. The hall was dark because of the slideshow they were showing.

"Amaan?"

"Yes."

"Remember me. Please."

I looked.

He looked.

We looked away.

And we looked back again.

~