School Diaries

A Chess Game

It was the time before summer vacation, inescapable intense hot everywhere, the sun was desperate to take I don't know maybe some old revenge and was hell agitated to burn everything came in his way, there was no rain in around last 3 months expect for some fine drizzles. Everywhere there was dust and clouds of dust, even you could make one while walking along the roadside, it could go as high as your knee nonchalantly. For me, it was the most depressing month to keep with.

It was ritual of our school to hold the summer holidays of senior students as much as they could. While the juniors were into their holidays for about two weeks already but there we were still going to the school everyday. God, to tell the truth, it wasn’t our going to school that sucks but the holiday of others that did. Then we had to tell ourselves that we were now at least older to someone which gave us the sense of authority and pleasantness. I mean, being older sounded like a reward to us as before that we were spending our lives as younger ones, and everybody seemed to lecture us with the sense that we were younger.

Going to school when others were enjoying their holidays was fine until we had two or three game periods in a day, but then one day the school management came to a decision that because of very high temperature no class would be allowed to play outside. We argued to the management with the point that if it is that hot then why they are insisting on foolishly extending our summer holiday date, either let us play or we will stop coming to school. Picking and twisting our point they had reasoned that if we are that strong to come and play outside in that hot season then why is there any need of a vacation -- let’s study for some more time.

So shut down in the classroom we are allowed to play indoor games to which they mean board games. And these board games include chess, carom board and ludo, though it was on student’s discretion if they wanted to play odd games like parchi parchi  instead, there was no restriction. Though Carom was the first obvious choice of everyone but choice was highly divided between us as per the interest, for example those who wanted to look cool usually chose the carom, while brain maniac preferred to play chess, and those who wanted the full enjoyment had ludo as their game of choice. Though because of lack of sufficient number of boards in comparison to the number of students some of us had to choose a game of not their choice, like sometimes some of us whom had no idea of chess had to glare upon the pieces like they were aliens from different world, thinking what these pieces mean and what they work.

Those who were skilled in capturing the opportunity in the very first chance were they one who got the privilege to play the game of their choice, ludo was of course the game for girls but still there were ludo maniacs among boys as well. But among us there was a very dangerous species, a species that had the potential to play all the games and therefore to ruin all. They were those students who were not satisfied with just carom or chess, they wanted to play everything, literally everything. First, they would barge into a carom group sidelining the weakest player and playing in place of him, they would ask for one chance but end up consuming your whole game. Then, they would march for chess pieces, first they start with watching the game as spectator, soon they would be an advisor of the weaker one and at the end of the game they were the one playing the game -- making every steps and moves. There’s a huge advantage in doing so. If they succeed in winning they can massage their pride and brilliance quoting how they had turned the table from a near lose to a win, but if they lose then it’s all the fault of the man who was playing before he took the charge. They were the bugs in every game, they were the real bastards. Well, I was the one and biggest such bastard, and Tushar was the other.

But still our duo used to cling to a particular game whenever there was a nail biting game and a fierce battle between us. On one such day we were playing the chess. The period was of English but because of some engagements our teacher was unavailable so they had sent our Physics teacher to maintain the class. Well, both Tushar and I were playing the chess and it was a close combat with I had a slightly upper hand over game, it was then our Physics teacher trudging along the class came by our table and stopped against our board. He observed and found Tushar’s side weaker so he started assisting him. He was a man of attraction, he used to wear those light coloured, patterned shirts with cuffs closed, he put on his forehead a vermilion tilak which gave him the appearance of a serious man devoted to something, His cautious calm voice had that essence of a gentleman in it. Though being a physics teacher who taught us the law of physics but having a great interest in the game of probability and strategy was kind of odd. But of course it wasn’t as our Chemistry teacher had his undying interest in animal husbandry and biology, even more than Chemistry sometimes. And there was other examples like these.  

In a matter of time I lost the lead all thanks to the assistance Tushar got from our teacher and the game was about to turn if I wasn’t saved by a tricky move of bishop who cut along the weak defense of Tushar made a checkmate. I won at last. Admiring my victory our teacher called me a worthy opponent for him. He sat against me, the chess pieces were arranged, and the game was on again, it was I against my teacher. I was afraid as his game was way superior than me so there’s very little hope for a victory. Of course first I denied but as he keep on  insisting me to play just one game, I agreed. I decided that I would swallow my defeat and my pride with that. So we sat on our chairs facing each other and kept hold of our nerves -- this was the battle of pride for me as well as for him. I played each move very cautiously taking as less risk as I could while concentrating most of the time on my defense which gave him chance to recklessly attack me. In a matter of time the talent gap started appearing on the board clearly. Undoubtedly, he was a way superior player than me.

Cricket is considered as the game of unpredictability, so does the chess sometimes (at least it is true for me). I was on the verge of a checkmate, most of my major pieces were already doomed, the lose seemed certain. But I got a tricky move. In order to attack me he had wide opened his defense, through that gap in his defense I made my move. That was a checkmate. I won the game. The win was as much shocking to me as for him, though I covered it and pretended as if I was plotting this move since the very beginning, I know the trick to look talented. He smirked foolishly and said, "You are a fine player Sagar. You are a worthy opponent. We should play more matches sometime." I said nothing, I was enjoying every word of my victory because I know that this time I was lucky but not the next time around.

That certainly hurt the pride of teacher as he became desperate to revive his lost glory. In next four days he keep on pinning me to play a chess game when ever he found me free. At last he got the chance, on that day the summer was on its peak intensity, we were melting like the wax. I was in no mood to spend my brain on a game like chess, I want to play carom but because of him I was forced to play the chess, the generousness in his voice tricked me. We sat on the last bench beside the door, chess pieces were set once again, and once again the fight between whites and blacks  started. I wanted to get rid of the game as soon as possible even if it took a defeat. But as soon as I started playing I got desperate as well, so moodily I decided to not gave up so soon. You can’t predict your choice until you are done at last.

 He was playing unusually defensive that day, which gave me chance to attack on him, but I too was defensive most of the time which dragged the game to a tedious situation, move after move the game was going complex. It was me who finally moved a wrong piece, giving his knight an opportunity to doom my bishop and enter into my territory. After that it was all the formality before a certain checkmate, no tricky move that time. I lost. But I was happy for at least I put a good fight and now I had not to worry for my teacher to bother me to play a chess game when I wanted not to play one. That wasn’t a complete lost, I think.

 A Confused Adoration 

It was the time when I was in one of the senior high classes. And it was the same time when adolescence hit me which bought changes to my physical body, but more than that it bought changes to my emotional part. And it was because of these changes I started adoring a girl. She was the angel of my dreams for years. 

I kept on adoring her all through my school days until the last class, but from a distance to keep my intention under the veil of secrecy. But time had made her image hazy and I had almost forgot about her until recently when while writing the book I came to encounter her scent and her adoring smiling face again. And it was after that the image has revived it's place as before.

In those days, I used to follow her where ever I could in the school - corridor, classes, sports ground, everywhere. I kept her curved figure in my eyes and, when we came near the point at which our ways diverged, (I was the junior), I quickened my pace and passed her to enter my class first and then glanced at her disappearing figure going past our class into hers. Sometimes I adored her as she passed thorough the corridor walking elegantly, slowly passing one class after another stepping just like a model swing her hips from one side to another. She remained lost in reminiscing something under her squared glasses, maybe some old memories of her, I guess because she wasn’t the confused theta, gamma, eta loving girl.  

I did all those things years after years in such a casual manner that no one ever got the idea of my intentions, though I wanted her to notice. I was so fearful about the revelation of this thing that I had never spoken to her, expect for a few casual words, and yet her name or her presence was like a summons to all my foolish blood. God, even now that sucked a lot.

Sometimes in the classroom or at home while studying -- applying Newton's third law or calculating the momentum of the running train -- her image popped between my eyes and the pages suddenly. Or sometimes during summer holidays while lying and gazing at the stars in the night sky I thought of her, and at that moment I felt the surge to annihilate the tedious intervening holidays to again saw her face. I was in deep confused adoration. But man, distance adoration has its own sweet taste, I admit that.   

I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I speak to her by some fortune (God please do that fortune to me), how could I tell her of my confused adoration. How would I tell her the way I saw her all those years, and what did she think of me? But I do know that my body was like the guitar and her words and gestures were like fingers running through the wires. I think I will hardly hold my guts in front of her to say such a thing.

After school ended, her image keep on clinging to my mind for years to follow. I kept on thinking of her, about her face, her curved figure, about her further career -- her education. Questions often jumped to in my mind - did she remembered me or not, or did she married or not, sometimes I got manically curious to know all these things, but I was aware that I was that bird closed in the cage who could do nothing but squirm in its cage. So, I said to myself that at least I had her image clingin to my mind which had occupied and pleased me many times and I am grateful to her for that.

But after years -- devoid even of her mere presence of shadow -- I only remember the faint odor of her body and that charming smile which was always clung to her adorable small face.

Sometimes I think what if at that time I would be like what I am now, I would have told her everything, or maybe I thought so, and I am still the same coward as I was then.   

Fortunately no one came to notice about that thing in that long time, expect of course Tushar whom I told the whole thing (but he too isn't aware of the name and thought the whole thing as some joke) and my rough notebook where I had already started jotting down my ideas and feelings which I was unable to tell anyone. In fact, my first writings were mostly dedicated to her. God knows what plunder would be created if anyone, even by mistake, would happen to read all those things. Was I that careless or that was my intent to reveal my secret, I don’t know.

Note - I had included some misleading fact, and concealed some real ones so that any of you would not track me or especially her on the basis of mentioned facts. I respect her and I think that she deserves that much privacy at least.