Free Shala by Milind Bokil Page B

back but did not tell Misal so.
    ‘Will you show me the well some day,’ I asked, ‘if I ever come that way?’
    ‘Yes, of course. There is nothing much to see, though. It is just a well.’
    ‘When shall we go?’ I asked, not allowing the opportunity to pass.
    ‘Any day you wish.’
    I was eager to go the same day, but unfortunately he had tuition classes that day. We decided to meet the next day. I asked him for his address and he gave me the directions: ‘Come down Subhash Vidyalaya and turn left at the Dhekne Laundry’. Next to the laundry was Sumangal Store followed by a narrow lane where his house was.
    I came home and gulped down my tea. Luckily Ambabai was not at home to ask unnecessary questions. I had carefully noted down the directions and had no difficulty in locating his house. It was the oldest part of our town. The houses had tiled, sloping roofs. There were many mango and coconut trees around. Despite the rains having ended some time back, the entire area was lush with big trees extending a cool shade.
    Misal’s house was part of a chawl with five or six rows of houses. Each house had two rooms. There was a tiled area in front of every house with a small garden adjacent to it. A few children were playing outside Misal’s house. It was getting dark. When I got in I noticed his mother wiping the floor, her saree tucked into her waist.
    ‘Aai, this is Joshi, my class fellow,’ he said. ‘He wants to see the stone well.’
    ‘Then show him,’ she said, continuing to wipe the floor. ‘But have your tea first. And don’t come into the house now. Your feet will leave stains on the floor.’
    ‘We will have tea when we come back,’ I suggested, winking at Misal. ‘Let us see the well first.’
    The well was really enormous. Its wall was more than three feet wide, with three places for drawing water. It was full of water, a little greenish black in colour. The shadow of the walls made the water look darker. It was scary to lie down on the edge and look down at the water. There were fish inside. ‘Are there turtles too?’ I asked. A few women were drawing water. The pulley made an eerie creaking sound, which echoed from the bottom of the well.
    We hung around for a while. I was, quite obviously, not interested in the well itself. Misal took the road leading to his house when I suggested, ‘Why don’t we go for a stroll?’
    We walked along the narrow lanes. There were a few independent houses hidden partially by trees. Misal continued to tell me some facts about the well, and about how some people performed animal sacrifice at it. I was least interested. I looked around the locality, but I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I knew that Shirodkar stayed in this part of the town. I wondered how I would react if she were to come and stand before us. As usual, the hollow in the pit of my stomach grew.
    ‘Are we not likely to come across that Mande or Binde or whoever stays somewhere in this part of the town?’ I asked casually.
    ‘No. She spends her evenings studying,’ he said. ‘She borrowed my notebook. She did not come to school today, you know?’
    ‘Does she speak to you?’
    ‘Yes, of course! We were together in the other school earlier. She bunks a lot and then borrows my notebooks.’
    I had no knowledge of this arrangement. Boys like Misal do not reveal all this to the rest of us in class. So Misal does not speak to any girl in school but exchanges notebooks with Mande! Smart cookie!
    ‘Doesn’t Shirodkar borrow your notebooks?’ I asked, trying to sound casual.
    ‘No. I don’t know her well enough. She just smiles at me when she sees me. Besides, I don’t try to make friends with her. They are rich folks, you know.’
    ‘Does she not stay this side of the town?’
    ‘A little further up. They stay in a bungalow of sorts.’
    ‘Bungalow?’
    ‘Not their own. They have rented it.’
    I continued to look at the sign boards of the bungalows we passed, hoping to see her