That Saturday Night

The only thrill about wearing the white uniform on Saturdays is that it means a shorter time at school is followed by a Sunday. Not that I hate being at school – it is fun to discuss the last day’s TV with my friends. Though cricket is our usual talking point, we also enjoy discussing TV shows - especially the Hindi-dubbed re-runs of old English comedies. The collective crush among us boys was Brenda from Bumpy Road. Though these talks made school bearable, this Saturday had turned out to be the worst.

Our tuition teacher had freed us just so close to school hours that we had to cycle in a rush to make it inside the school gate in time. But then, my old school shoes had proved so useless on my run up the school stairs. I had hurt my knee after a stumble. That meant just watching my friends play during the games slot while I sat on the sidelines with a dressed-up knee.

Then, our Science teacher had distributed our Unit Test answer sheets. While both my desk mates had scored more than 15 out of 20, I was at a dismal 11. Could this day please end?

At home, mom saw my hurt knee and scolded me for being so careless. But, in the evening, she gave me a plate full of grapes while I watched TV.

“Did you get the remaining Unit Test answer sheets?” she asked while I was lost in a TV show episode.

“No, the class teacher said we’ll get them on Monday,” I had lied effortlessly.

We must get our answer sheets signed by our parents. Going through Grade 1 to Grade 10, one thing I have learned is to delay the news of a bad score as much as possible. It helps in making the weekend a good one. I was wondering if mom would let me watch TV till late tonight.

“No point waiting for the other papers. Your scores in this Unit Test have been terrible. From tomorrow, wake up early and start studying for the next exam. This injury won’t let you play anything anyway,” mom had my Sunday planned already.

I hated this Saturday. No, I hated this life! I switched the TV off and stood next to the window. My fascination for watching the cars’ headlights as a kid had continued to this day. I loved how the cars raced by while the bikes stayed behind, and the pedestrians lost the race easily. In all my sadness, I wondered how wonderful it would be if, like a car, I could zoom past the upcoming Monday. Why just the Monday? I could zoom past the upcoming Unit Test as well. How amazing it would be to get past this entire phase of tests and education. Maybe I’ll be happier after 20 years. And happiest after 40 years? I may have smiled unknowingly at this distant happiness.

“Enough of daydreaming. I will serve you dinner soon. Study a bit, then go to bed,” I heard mom saying. She had stopped working as a math teacher after her marriage but that had not deterred her from being a disciplinarian at home. I realized how my studying made her happy and, honestly, that was my only incentive. But it was beginning to get tiring. I needed a break… or just a time leap.

After dinner, I got into bed and quickly finished muttering my prayers. My thoughts soon went to Brenda from Bumpy Road. How beautiful she was! My mind soon diverted to imagining her in an Indian outfit. She’d look so good in a peach-coloured kurti. And with this thought, I drifted into sleep.

As soon as I woke up, I thought about that dreadful Science answer sheet in my bag. My knee was hurting slightly more than I had anticipated. In fact, both my knees hurt. And so did my back. I rubbed my eyes and opened them. “Mom?” I wondered if I had a fever – my voice sounded so husky.

She came to me in a hurry. But there was someone else walking with her towards me. A man. It wasn’t dad. I could barely see them clearly. I rubbed my eyes some more.

“Are you alright?” she asked. She surely looked like mom but she wasn’t her.

I cleared my throat. “Where’s mom?” I asked, now slightly scared to be among these strangers. Meanwhile, my voice still sounded so different.

“She asked how are you feeling today?” the man repeated the lady’s question, exerting his voice. I had heard the woman clearly but who were these people?

“I- . Who are you? And where is my mom?” I asked, my back still not allowing me to sit up straight.

“We are your grandchildren, Baba,” the woman answered.

“He doesn’t remember us, Neeta,” I heard a slight sadness in the man’s voice as he looked down and shook his head. They both sat next to me on my bed.

I looked around and strained my eyes to see that my room had been completely changed. The window. It was gone. A wall had taken its place. What was happening? Did I travel through time? Is this a dream? Finally, I decided upon a question and asked the man, “How old am I?”

“A wonderful eighty-one years,” the man smiled. 

The girl kept her hand on my hand. “You will be fine, Baba,” she smiled. “Your name is Vishwas. This here is Nitin, my brother. We are your grandchildren.”

“My Science Unit Test answer sheet is in my bag,” I said, remembering that that answer sheet was still in there.

“There is no Unit Test. No bag either. We have been through this so many times,” Nitin said, with a touch of tedium.

 “Shut up, Nitin,” Neeta said, “Baba, you are done with that part of life. You studied to be a fashion designer. Your mom is no more though – she passed away 35 years ago. You are suffering from... Well, let’s just say you don’t remember things as clearly as you did earlier. And you tend to go back to a particular night – maybe something to do with a school Unit Test, and someone named Brenda.” She tapped my hand while raising her eyebrows.

I kept staring at her. I tried hard but couldn’t remember anything from the last 66 years. I turned my face away from them both and closed my eyes. I wondered if they heard me sob.