Today was a special day. Radha was starting seventh grade – for the second time. He wasn’t upset. He didn’t think it proved his odd behaviour meant he was cracked in the head – even though his dadi had lamented the fact, loudly and repeatedly. In fact he didn’t even really understand why she thought he was odd. He was his mother’s favourite son (albeit she had only one) but if she thought he was fine, he was fine.
Anyways, what his dadi thought of him was of little concern. Radha was rather looking forward to this do-over. The first time around, he hadn’t understood a word of physics. But he was hoping this time, the concepts would make more sense. He was looking forward to math and hoping he’d be able to get Jyoti miss to like him this time. But what he was really looking forward to was meeting his most favourite teacher, the best of the best, chemistry teacher extraordinaire, Anjum miss, who not only liked him but spoke to him like he was clever.
And it was for her that he was carrying an apple. As an offering really with the sincere hope that seventh grade would treat him kindly.
Radha hid the apple at the bottom of his bag and checked his glow-in-the-dark watch. It had been a present from his father after he had come first in the lemon race. The hands read five minutes to 8; time enough to go to the washroom before everyone arrived and started to tease him for failing.
He returned to class 10 minutes later, drenched till the shoulders in water. No, no one had played a prank on him. He had gotten a little too carried away trying to get his hair to stand on end like he had seen in an ad. All the water had only served to flatten his hair to the scalp.
It served a purpose though, one he was equally happy and unhappy with. Instead of teasing him for failing, his classmates were teasing him for the state of his hair. But Radha brushed it off like his dada brushed off lint from his pajamas. He was in his secure bubble and nothing could penetrate it.
Shivering slightly, he walked to his desk, head held high. He discreetly put his hand into the bag to ensure the apple was safe. What he found instead was a half-eaten fruit, spoiling his newly covered notebooks and overused textbooks.
He sighed, disappointed that what he had feared had come to pass. Sometimes it was a curse really to be able to predict the future. He threw away the apple and wiped his books clean using his hands and pants.
Radha turned on his chair, looking at the class full of suspects. No one saw him but he saw everyone. Who had eaten his apple? More importantly, how had they found it? But most importantly, what was he going to give Anjum miss now?
He needn’t have worried though. As soon as miss entered the classroom, she gave him such a winning smile, the rest of his day passed peacefully enough. He couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to his second seventh grade experience.
This is the first post in the series. To know more about Radha, click here.
tales of Suchita 
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