It Wasn't Love at First Shalini and I Read Online Free PDF Page B

true. They actually start liking the girls they goto school with.
And as girls grow from class 5 to class 10, they obviously look better.
School just happens to be there. School is like the necessary evil, like
milk in chocolate milk.
    But my life had always been screwed up. So I had gone to an all
boys school in a small but pretty little town up north. The only
thing that grew in that school was my, and other boy’s, moustache
and beard. And we did not shave, so it hung around, just beneath our
faces, like the nest of a very little bird.
    So basically, I hated school. I hated getting up, I hated getting
ready, I hated taking out my bike, even though I used to like riding it
at other times, I used to hate getting late, I used to hate the punishment
on getting late, I used to hate the morning assembly, I used to hate
the bullies, I used to hate the nerds.
    So I guess you get it that I basically hated everything about school.
But now it was over, over for a month atleast. I had passed class
seven, had done decently if not too well in the exams that happen
after every class. My parents were happy, I had actually outdone
my best performance with respect to rank in the class, and I was
happy, as my parents were happy which meant I would now sleep
till late, ride my bike with the destination not being the school
gates, play out in the field for much longer durations, not fake
studying when at home, read books (comics) out of will rather
than force.
    Nothing could beat the holidays that come after exams are over.
You still do not have the new class books, so your parents really can’t
make you study, and school starts after around a month. Life gets
into good shape. It was during the long break after class seven that
my parents decided to take me out on a holiday. In fact a holiday had
been used as a bait for me over the last two months to get me to
study. We were not very rich people. As was the custom in the days
when they got married, my mother was a house wife while my father
ran a provision store. The store did well enough to feed the three of
us, and the earning had to be stretched to ensure that I went to a
good school, but it never made enough to allow the little luxuries
like holidays. My mother was looking forward to the holiday much
more than I was. She was so happy when I got a good result. The
entire year she had spent threatening me, loving me, and using all
other methods which only a mother can, to make me study had
borne fruit, and she was going on a holiday. Life was good. In fact,
the last holiday I remember we had was when I was in class 2, so it
really had been a long time.
    This was a time of celebration. I had achieved what my parents
had hoped for, I had got good marks and a decent rank in the class
and the dreams of middle class Indian parents are restricted to only
that, that their children study and lead an honest life and have the
same dreams for their children. That was the reason for the expensive
school. My parents wanted to give their best shot at my education,
and hoped, that I would too. And looking at the results, I had not
disappointed them.
    Even though school was over and the next class had not yet started,
my father would not let me sit at his provision store. He always
thought that I was meant for something bigger. So my mother and I
would sit at home the whole day and would discuss where we would
go and what all we would do. The very mention of a holiday had
brought a bigger smile to the ever jovial face of my mother and I
shared her excitement. We both, after days of deliberation had finally
decided Bombay as our destination.
    Both of us loved hindi movies, even though we did not get
to watch too many, and Bombay was our Mecca. But then, one
day something happened that changed the plan. Dad came home
late one day and told us that one of his creditors had run away
from town. He did not owe dad too much money, but I looked
at my mom and I could see the stars in them dimming. She
looked at me