The Chari Story

Here is an old story from the days of yore when I was but a duckling in the 11th grade. I wrote it one day in a particularly boring physics class. I wish you luck and hope you enjoy reading it.

A textbook description of a student would typically sound something like this,

‘ A true student comes to school in the morning with a fresh face and shining eyes. As he enters his classroom, shivers of anticipation run down his spine. He awaits his teacher, eager to receive the knowledge she has to impart…’

Which just goes to show how pointless it is to read a textbook and how full of crap the writers are.

This is what it should say.

‘ The typical student comes to school in the morning bleary-eyed and yawning. As he drags his sorry butt up the seemingly endless flights of stairs to his classroom, he tends to curse the unknown force that makes him rise five days a week at an ungodly hour just to face eight hours of endless tedium.’

Ok. Maybe that’s exaggerating it a little bit, but you get the general idea.

It was in a mood like this that I entered the 11^th standard class room one bleak Wednesday morning. The sight of my friends standing at the doorway lit a weak fire in the ice box that was my soul.

“Hey Tara. “

“Hey Dhadi.”

“ What do we have first period?”

“Physics.”

The warm glow that had started to fill me was extinguished abruptly. Gloomily, we made our way to our seats.

Enter Chari.

Now Chari, our physics teacher, is something of a joke. Her school uniform consists of the following:

1. A standard issue sari. So far so good.
2. A matching blouse that is always 100% cotton and 100% see-through. Now normally you would assume that the sight of women’s underwear would excite the teenage boys in the class. Clearly, if that is what you think, you have never seen Chari. All the males in her class keep their eyes carefully averted from this ghastly sight. Not out of modesty, but out of a strong sense of self-preservation.
3. Having little or no hair in the vicinity of her eyebrows, she draws her own.

In addition to this, Chari also possesses a general incompetence and complete lack of common sense that can be rivaled only by the legendary South American dodo. The South American dodo, now extinct, is said to have been one of the ugliest, stupidest, sorriest species nature ever had the misfortune to create. Many spiritualists believe that it was the Good Lord, in all his wisdom, that took pity on the earth and deliberately eliminated the entire population.

Anyway, Chari’s entry into the classroom elicited little or no response from the rest of the class who were busy talking, screaming, running, fighting and/or sleeping. After a few weak, unsuccessful attempts to restore order, she gave up and began mumbling and writing disconnected figures entirely at random on the board.

It was at this point that Henc decided to talk to Mamu. Mamu, whose regard for Henc at this point was comparable to his regard for Chari, responded in language too rough to be printed on this page.

Henc decided to reply in a most mature and eloquent fashion by hurling her pen at Mamu’s head. And in an interesting twist of fate, it completely missed Mamu and hit Poop in the eye. Half – blinded with pain and howling in rage, Poop threw a half-eaten cabbage sandwich in the general direction from which the pen came. It landed square on Tara’s head.

In the ensuing chaos, during which the class started hurling things at one another, including paper, two benches, a number of grapes, and infact, Shanty, Chari tried once to restore order, slipped on a few stray grapes, was knocked over by the flying Shanty, and slunk out of the room unnoticed as the bell rang marking the end of the physics period.

“So Tara, what do we have next?”

“Yoga.”

Sigh.

Farewell

Entering the real world is imminent. I wonder if it will be like stepping onto a sunny beach or falling into icy water....or perhaps an intermediate of the two; diving into a tepid swimming pool.

I'm all set. My bags are packed, my farewells said and my schedule tentative. So, goodbye Bangalore. I will miss your crowded streets, your sweltering heat, your pouring rain, your punctuality or lack thereof, your masala dosas, your ready smiles and your colourful insults.
I will miss you in all your uncouth warmth, you, the city I love.