The first acquaintance I had in school was Binay; Binay introduced me to Sneha. I had joined school a little late and she was the first person to approach for notes. I do not remember clearly when I first met her but those impressions are rather naïve. Look-wise she was slim but not gaunt, not an extra pound on her body. She had a clear skin and a fair complexion. And her green eyes glowed in the shimmer of her rosy cheeks. In short, she looked quite good. She was unassumingly plain, no make-up and spoke a nasal dialect of English, extremely fast and debauched. She was extremely impatient in class, showing extra zeal in the Maths class to get her answers corrected and to get words of appreciation from the teacher. And she was clever, cold and callous. She was the apple of the eye to most teachers and an ideal example for most juniors, but a cruel thorn to her batch-mates. She stuck to discipline and allowed no-one to breach them, not even the hundreds of boys that she had made brothers.
If there is a discussion about breaching discipline, should I not mention SAPNA. Sujit, Ashish, Praveen, Naveen and Ajay were my first friends in the Science section, and they went on to become the closest. All five were infamously famous for their notorious activities that went on record so many times that Mr. Subhomoy Banerjee started overlooking them. They had blasted bombs in class, broken specimens in the lab and stolen books from the library. If Sneha formed an ideal example for most juniors, SAPNA formed the ideal for the rest. And no matter how much I tried to disassociate with them, they were too innocent to leave. To start with, Praveen was the solo thespian of this batch until toppers started cropping like mushrooms from this class. He was the mastermind behind every activity SAPNA was held responsible for. He had a style of celebration and in the process, he had blasted bombs in the class, invited elephants to attack the banana plantations near Brother’s residence and taken a school bus off the road. His reputation was handy even before I joined St. James. Sujit had heard tales of Praveen’s heroics long ago when he studied in Sunshine school and he was best friends with Praveen the day he joined. He had no style of his own and adopted Praveen as his mentor and champion. Ajay was a flirt and he could get no better company to share his own heroics in a class of Bengali fundamentalists than Praveen and Co. Naveen and Ashish were the unsung heroes of SAPNA, the moderate faces that made this lethal group look harmless and who made everything that SAPNA did look mere accidents.
When I joined St. James’ I had no idea that I was going to join such a group. On the first day, Mr. Subhomoy Banerjee sternly warned me against “a section of students who are a disgrace to an institution such as St. James’ that builds citizens for the society, not against the very structure of it,” his eyes clearly pointing to the last bench on the left, through which Praveen’s eyes pointed sharp and straight. Nisha had guided me through every aspect of my new school other than what company to keep and who to avoid from the 35 students in XI-Science. In a week or so, without much effort, I had made good friends with these five people, who were warm and sweet. I joined tuitions with them and visited them frequently to borrow books. At school, I had the chosen company of Binay during the breaks. After school, I was surprised to find people avoid me. It was not until one day, when Praveen came to visit me that a sister from Sunshine school who had been staying in the same PG blew the lid off SAPNA and their heroics. I knew who to avoid.
For the next few days, I took a seat on the far corner in the front, and stopped looking in the direction of the windows on the back. I came to the tuitions just on time and left immediately after. Ashish figured out that I was dodging them. On my way back home, I met Praveen. He had skipped his bus and asked me if he could travel with me. My bus mate, Bipish was absent that day and Praveen knew this well. I could not say no. Once the bus started, as usual, the bachcha party started banging seats and singing songs. Praveen joined them. He enjoyed a special place for them. He was completely innocent, unlike the episodes I had heard. He was timid and coy.
The bus roared through Telepara at top speed and came to a halt. A bridge had broken down, for the third time in two months. The engineers had been called for a make-shift arrangement. It would take at least an hour. We had to cross the bridge on foot and board a local bus on the other side. There was a long line of uncleared traffic on both sides of the bridge and we had to walk at least a kilometer or so to get to the other side. Praveen walked with me.
“You have been avoiding me these days, isn’t it?” Praveen asked. I did not find it necessary to answer.
“Are you afraid of me?” He tried to break a conversation once again. I again did not find it necessary to answer.
“I cannot give an explanation for everything I’ve done but I’m a good friend to friends.” So saying, he lifted a small child caught in the traffic and moved impetuously ahead. He took the child to the other side, shook hands with the bus driver, had a merry laugh and then climbed the ladder of the local bus to the rooftop. I followed him.
“Hi partner, so we’re together again. You could have waited for the next bus, it would have had seats inside.” He said in a merry way.
“I’m comfortable this way.” He laughed again. He pointed to the rungs on the top and gave a quick indication to hold on to them. The bus started and I did as he said.
“Where did you get the bombs?” I asked, this time trying to break a conversation from my side.
“Why, you get them in the bazaar on haat day near the cinema hall. You want some?” He said jocularly again.
“And taking the bus off the road?”
“He raised the fares without notice. So, I told him to issue a notice for fourteen days, until then we would give the same fare. He said that the Government hiked the fuel price without notice. Other people did not find I had a point, so I made my point clear by hammering the fuel tank with a spade. It took him ten days to get back on the road and the other buses did not raise the fare until the fourteenth day.”
“And the elephants must have been hungry?”
“They broke into the school plantation of their own. I tried to shoo them away lest the Brothers should kill them, but the Brothers learned about them before I could do much.”
“You are a good story-teller.”
“And a good friend. Give me a chance to prove it.”
“I do not test my friends. Time tests them for me.”
“I’ll pray that time does not come. Until then, I hope you have no problems to have puchka with me on the way to the tuitions.”
That was the only time Praveen paid for the puchkas. After all, they were my favorites, so each time he found me on Shankar dada’s stall, it was my turn to ask him if he would have some and he never turned me down.