‘You made friends here?’ she said.
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘You?’
‘I have some classmates from school in Stephen’s. Plus, I am from
Delhi, so have many friends outside.’
‘I hope I can adjust,’ I said. ‘I feel I don’t belong here.’
‘Trust me, nobody feels they do,’ she said. ‘Which residence did
they give you?’
‘Rudra,’ I said.‘How about you?’
'They don’t give one to Delhiites. I’m a day-ski, unfortunately,’ she
said, using the common term for day scholars.
We reached my classroom. I pretended not to see it and kept
walking until she reached hers.
’Oh, this is my class,’ she said.‘Where’s yours?’
'I'll find out, go ahead,’ I said.
She smiled and waved goodbye. I wanted to ask her out for coffee,
hut couldn’t. I could shoot a basket from half-court three times in a
rmv but I could not ask a girl to come to the college cafeteria with me.
‘Basketball,’ I blurted out.
‘What?’
‘Want to play sometime?’ I recovered quickly.
‘With you? You’ll kick my ass,’ she said and laughed. I didn’t
know why she felt I would kick her rear end or why she found the
phrase funny. I joined her in the laughter anyway.
‘You play well,’ I said as we stood at her classroom door.
‘Okay, maybe after a few days, once we settle into classes,’ she
said. She walked in for her first English lecture. The joy at the
possibility of meeting her again made me forget I had a class. I wanted
to dance in the garden.
The bell for the first period rang. ‘This isn’t sociology, right?’ I
asked a clueless English student as he arrived late for his own class.
♦
‘You are good. Really good,’ she said as she wiped her face with a
towel.