school

I rarely think of school days. Today my art partner's samosa reminded me of a friend that used to steal them from the canteen! And that seemed to open a little trap door in my head to a time when I wore two plaits and a very unbecoming blue pinafore.

i

The quadrangle is flooded.
Blue pinafores hitched up at the knees
And unpolished, dusty, Bata shoes
Suddenly glisten
polished by dirty puddles of rain water
Braids are straightened – one fat and one thin
Meenakshi never gets them right
The uniform monitor scrutinises us
And we say a silent thanks to the rain
For shining our shoes
If only it had washed away the nail polish
We think, kneeling outside our classroom

ii

Fountain Pepsi arrives at school
We queue and jostle
School bags are upturned for loose change
Bus and lunch money is spent
One Pepsi is purchased
And passed around
We feel like college boys sharing a cigarette
And giggle

iii

Our
class
is
standing
single
file
in
the
prayer
hall
I
Open
One
Eye
And
See
The
Oiled
hair
of
the
Girl
Before
me.
two
head
lice
crawl
out
single
file
and
look
at
me.
i
think