Pradip woke up with a start. He was sweating. It was the same dream again. He had barely completed three questions out of eight when the bell rang. He was begging the invigilator to give him just 2 more minutes to complete one more question so that he could at least get passing marks. It was dark in his room, but he could still see the outline of the angry invigilator across the room. He sat there, breathing heavily, trying to figure out the outline. Then it dawned. The invigilator looked like his father. But with a heavy moustache - his father was clean shaven - and a bigger mouth with rotten teeth within, probably due to chewing of Gutkha or paan.
Two years ago, he wanted to take arts. It was his father, a government clerk, who forced him to take science.
"No one in their right mind takes arts. Science will make you an engineer, doctor and what not." Father was shouting at Pradip one morning.
He continued, "With arts, you will end up as a primary school teacher if you are lucky. It’s so humiliating to have a useless son. Look at Mr Batra’s son...what is his name...Vikas. He has got a job with Infosys after competing his engineering and going to America. And look at you."
Pradip stared down at his toenails.
‘Leave the poor boy alone. Let him study arts. He loves to write. Let him be a journalist.’ Pradeep’s mother intervened.
‘You shut up and don’t interfere in this. Keep to your kitchen unless you want a slap from me.’
His mother walked away. Father didn’t like being countered.
He heard his mother being beaten by her father on that night, and the next day Pradip enrolled for science.
Pradip hated maths. The classes seemed like eternity. The syllabus seemed incomprehensible. He felt desolate and lost. It was as if he was left on an island with choppy sea all around, without any means to escape. He knew that he would fail if he didn’t do something about it fast.
Pradip was not scared of failing at the exams. It was his father he feared. And he feared what would happen to his mother if he failed.
‘It’s all your fault’ The father would scream at the mother.
Pradip dreaded every waking moment of his life. The math teacher had already given up on students like him, who were relegated to the last benches to fend for themselves. The exam was still two months away, and Pradip knew that he had no choice but to move to arts the next year.
Pradip was thirsty now. He went to the kitchen and switched on the lights. His mother was sobbing. Pradip hugged her.
"Everything will be alright Amma." He said
"For all the bad man that he was, I still miss your father Pradip." Amma replied between her sobs.
The photo of his father on the wall looked down upon them.
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