English Literature – Juvenile Fiction ☆ The Tide of will – Part-11 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Brief Introduction

• Birth – January 18, 1955
• Education – MBBS (IMS/BHU)
• Publications – 4 books (2 in Hindi, 1 each in English and Bengali) and two are yet to come.
• Translations – Books and articles are translated in English, Odiya, Marathi and Gujarati.
• Awards – CBT awarded stories and novel, “Kamaleshwar Smriti Katha Award (2013, 2017 and 2019)” by Kathabimb.
• Honour – “Hindi Sevi Samman” by Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwa Vidyalaya, Wardha (December 2016). 

☆ Juvenile Fiction ☆ The Tide of will – Part-11 ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

National Swimmer Tea Stall.

‘Oh!’ Ananthi just could no more tolerate everything silently. She peeped into the room again and yelled at Gayatri, ‘Still sleeping? After all what do you want? What will you do in the exam?’

‘What happened? Why are you cross with her?’ Narayanan looked inside from the door. 

‘She has to complete her project work for half yearly exam, yet she has been sleeping since afternoon, unmindful of her school homework. What to say about Science, even in English and Malayalam they’ve to ready these. And just look at her. Still sleeping. As if she is the grandma of Kumbhakaran.’

Kumbhakaran was the brother of the king of Lanka, Ravana, who would sleep for six months at a stretch.

‘Must be tired. So much labour she has to do these days. Swimming in the morning and then her school.’

‘Achcha, it’s you who say like that and always favour her. But by this she would become much more adamant. She won’t listen to us. How on earth will we be able to control her?’

Now Narayanan, the retired headmaster, smiled innocently, ‘What to say? The education of today is nothing but a load of everything. The over loaded school bag, the load of project work, what not and what not. My goodness! It’s not studying but it’s wrestling nowadays with books and all that!’

But Ananthi couldn’t keep her patience anymore. She rushed to Gayatri, lying fast asleep, and gave her a pinch on the arm to wake her up. Still when she didn’t, she pulled her by her hairs, ‘Get up, I say.’

‘Oh, Ananthi, what are you doing? Leave her alone.’

Now Gayatri sat up on the bed, looked at her mother for a second and again spread herself out all over the bed. The poor girl just failed to realize what was expected of her.

Her granny, Lalithambika, kept grumbling, ‘Everybody is pressing her continuously. My poor little birdie! She must take a full rest at least.’

‘Did you see that, achchan? Oh, what an insolent child! How will I manage her? Day before yesterday she was punished in her class because she didn’t complete her homework.’

‘Oh, just spare her tonight. Bring her books and the notebooks to me. Let me complete her project.’ said Narayanan.

Next, he sat at his table and started writing on Gayatri’s notebook. After so many years since his childhood days, that night, Narayanan was again writing on the paper like a child. Big letters and all that. As the popular idiom says – ‘burning the midnight oil’.

Next morning, Gayatri was quite afraid to go to school. But her mother smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry you naughty girl, your appupan has completed both of your project works. He was all awake whole night.’

‘Is it, amma?’ Just like a butterfly, spreading her both arms, she rushed to Narayanan and embraced her from behind, ‘Oh appupan, you’re so nice!’

‘You selfish lady! Because I did it for you, so I’m a nice person now, is it so?’ Naryanan smiled.

But ultimately how could the life move ahead in this fashion? Gayatri felt exhausted all the time. It was not her fault after all. After the early morning practice she would return home and get ready for her school. But in the class it became quite difficult for her to stay attentive. Many a time she was found dozing in the class. A few of the girls sniggered at her, ‘She is the only example of her kind. She is going to become a great swimmer one day, you know?’

‘Or the Miss Sleeping Universe?’ Malli, one among them, taunted with a titter.

And one day in the English class the inevitable did happen. That day the English ma’am was teaching from the poem ‘The Swing’ by Robert Louis Stevenson. After she had finished with its explanation she looked at her and asked, ‘Yes, you Gayatri, can you tell me what does the poet want to mean in these two lines, ‘How do you like to go up in a swing / Up in the air so blue?’ Why did he use the words ‘so blue’?’

Gayatri woke up with a start. She was completely confused. Somehow she managed to stutter an answer, ‘It’s b – blue b – because the water is blue all around while we s – swim!’

Whole of the class chortled with delight.

The teacher leaned upon her and pulled her head by her braid. She erupted like a volcano. ‘What’s the matter, you shameless girl? It’s your class or bedroom?’

There were other girls always waiting to score brownie points. Malli, sitting on the next bench stood up to give her firsthand report, ‘Ma’am, every day she goes to the stadium in Alappuzha for training and practice. She hopes to take part in Olympic swimming someday.’

‘Shut up!’ And the teacher hit on Gayatri’s head with the spine of the book and threatened her, ‘Remember if this happens again in future, I’ll expel you from the class.’

Throughout this episode Gayatri stood with her head down. Tears welled up in her eyes.

‘Now you can take your seat. But remember what I’ve said. I won’t tolerate any indiscipline in my class.’ This was the finishing line by the teacher.

Malli had covered her face with an open book in front. But, instead of following the lines, she was actually giggling. Gayatri noticed everything. She was enraged. OK, just wait and see what’s there in store for you. I’ll see you. Rest of the girls were hopefully waiting for a women’s WWF between the two during the interval. They said among themselves, ‘Oh, this Malli is very jealous indeed.’                 

Gayatri’s heart was filled up with a sense of bitterness. She thought, ‘Really, what’s the use of all this swimming? How far can I go in this field? May be, I’ll be getting a prize or two in some competitions. And then what? How many Indians have achieved anything in this sport? Even in our national game hockey, we are nowhere in the world of sports. In Sahara Cup match even the ‘C’ team of a foreign country defeated us. How many of the spectators were there in the Ernakulum stadium that day? Once Kumaran sir told me, ‘Even Milkha Singh had refused to accept the Arjuna award.’ Why? Because he was disgusted with the state of our sports.’

Probably the little girl was not exactly thinking all these. But somehow her thoughts were streaming through this line. When the mist covers everything, the distant mountains, the trees, the cottages, the cityscape or the landscape – all the pictures up to the horizon become quite hazy. Her mind too was covered with a mist. So her thoughts were not that clear at all.

Anyway, a duel couldn’t be avoided in the recess after the class. Malli and Gayatri both were using their tongues as their swords.

‘Hey, sleeping beauty! Did you expect some prince to come and wake you up, huh?’ was the first line of attack from Malli’s side.

‘And don’t you ever sleep in the class? Oh, here comes the Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge! The great book worm. The most studious girl of our class!’

‘And what do you think of yourself? The champion swimmer of India? And what will happen even if you become a champion of Haripadam? A big good for nothing!’

‘So what? Don’t ever poke your long nose in my affairs. You are simply an envious girl.’

Malli turned to the girls, standing all around the ‘arena’, ‘Does anybody know that a national swimming champion runs a tea stall in Patna? He is Gopal Prasad Yadav. He was three time national champion. He didn’t get a job. Out of frustration he started this business and named it the National Swimmer’s Tea Stall.’

Although Malli was hardly interested in sports but because of T.V. and newspapers most of the public were aware of all these. But was it easy for Gayatri to tolerate this humiliation? She started pulling a face at Malli and started shouting, ‘Malli is a weeping girl, she always complains.

She must be the mother of a hundred chickens.’   

And why would Malli sit simply on the fence, doing nothing? She shot an arrow with her tongue, ‘Girls, welcome to Gayatri Tea Stall!’

Fortunately the school bell rang and the interval ended. A real-life ding-dong was stopped as the bell tolled. Still, as the war between Hindustan and Pakistan never ends, before leaving for the class both the wrestlers filled up their mouths with the water from their bottles and set off the water missiles from their mouths across the L.O.C. to the opponent.

‘This to the complaining Queen!’

‘And this for Her Highness, the owner of the Tea Stall!’

The girls went to their class one by one. The battle of hurly-burly was neither lost nor won!

Contd…      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

C0ntact: Care Dr. Alok Kumar Mukherjee, 104/93, Vijay Path, Mansarovar, Jaipur, Rajasthan 302020