Shala by Milind Bokil

help.
    ‘Joshi, come up with some tough name, buddy,’ Ghasu Gokhale said, trying to be friendly.
    ‘Joshi, Ichibhana, why don’t you give them a really difficult one?’ Surya said, poking my back with his pencil.
    I thought for a while and told Surya, ‘Go and write “ de ” followed by seven blanks and then “ di ”.’
    Surya promptly went and wrote the same on the board.
    It was a googly for the girls. They were lost.
    ‘What is this? De…di ?’
    ‘There is no such movie,’ Sukdi claimed.
    ‘You will be the first one to see it when it releases,’ I tried to keep my voice low, but Sir heard me. He said, ‘Joshi, don’t try to be oversmart.’ He too looked at the board and thought for a while. He did not know the answer either.
    The girls were busy scratching their heads. They huddled in groups but to no avail. Sir waited for some time and then announced, ‘Okay, the girls lose this round. Joshi, tell us the answer.’
    ‘ Destination—Post Office Dhebewadi ,’ I said. It was a Marathi movie.
    ‘There is no such movie,’ one of the birdies piped up.
    ‘Sit down,’ Sir intervened. ‘I have seen the movie. It is nice and has good suspense.’
    Then slow worm Deosthale stood up. She took ages to write the words, taking some ten hours to finish. She had written the first letter, ‘ mou ’ and, before she could complete the endless row of blanks, I said, ‘Don’t write further. It is Mughal-e-Azam .’
    She just stood there holding the chalk in her hand. Then with an ‘Issh!’, she stomped her way back, muttering that we could identify every damn movie on earth.
    The boys were having fun.
    It was bright outside and inside as well. I wished that the class would never end. The girls were desperately racking their brains to come up with a difficult title.
    Shirodkar got up to write.
    ‘I will try,’ she said. She went to the blackboard and started writing.
    The boys were busy looking at the words, but I could not take my eyes off her.
    The name seemed to be enormously long. The first letter was ‘ ja ’ followed by a train of never-ending blanks. The entire class fell silent. There were twelve blanks after the first letter. The last one was ‘ li ’.
    No one had a clue! Someone muttered, ‘What is this ‘ ja…li ?’
    I had not noticed the clues as I was busy looking at her. My heart was pounding away. The boys clearly were unable to search for an answer and were on the verge of accepting defeat. The girls chorused, ‘Now tell us! Do you know the answer?’
    The boys looked at me for support.
    ‘Joshi, come on, man! You ought to know!’
    ‘Hey, come on, fill in the words quick.’
    My mind was numb. I tried to desperately search for the right connection between the letters. There were quite a few films whose name began with ‘ ja ’ like ‘ Jab Jab Phool Khile’ , ‘ Jis Desh Mein Ganga Bahti Hai’, ‘Jab Pyaar Kisi se Hota Hai’ , etc. but they did not match the letters. This title had twelve blanks….
    ‘Have you written it correctly?’ Ghasu Gokhale raised a doubt, asking the girls.
    He had a point. It happens many times; the opponent goofs it up and we rack our brains in vain, searching for the right answer.
    Shirodkar looked at the board and counted the number of letters again. She confirmed, looking at Manjrekar sir, ‘Yes, sir. It is right.’
    The girls were baying for an acceptance of defeat from our side.
    ‘Joshi, we are going to be mauled. Come on!’ Surya pleaded.
    My body was trembling. It seemed like I would have to accept defeat—and that too at the hands of Shirodkar. I looked out at the playground glimmering in the hot sun. The girls were making a din inside the classroom. Shirodkar stood smiling, knowing that victory was very much hers. What could be the word beginning with ‘ ja ’? My mind raced… jab, jawan, jahan, jameen, jal .
    ‘So are you guys ready to give up?’ Manjrekar sir stepped in, looking at me. He moved to the blackboard to mark