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copied from someone else’s notebook?’
    ‘No, ma’am. I did the work myself.’ Surya pleaded.
    ‘Really? Tell me, what does “gallant” mean?’
    Surya was in trouble. She asked the meaning of a few more words, but Surya was tongue-tied. She took out the wooden ruler screaming, ‘How dare you lie to me?’ Surya got a couple of raps on his arm and screamed out loud, though he was not really hurt. He went back to his seat rubbing his arm.
    Bendre ma’am began her class. She began conversing with us in English. The whole class was silent. I could follow a little better than most but for the rest, it was beyond comprehension. All of us sat there like mice, scared to death. It was sunny outside. The playground was baking in the bright sunlight. There were no fans in our classroom and it was hot and stuffy inside.
    I was busy watching Shirodkar, oblivious to the class, the teacher and all else. She sat there with her eyes focused on the blackboard as she listened in rapt attention. I realized her hair was not jet-black but slightly brown. The flowers set off their brownness. And it blew gently in the air. No other girl has hair like hers. The birdies oil their hair so much it looks all wet and greasy. Even Ambabai does that. They do not realize how foolish they look with such oily hair. Shirodkar is wise. She must have a wise mother, I guess.
    I do not know her exact address. I know she stays somewhere in the direction of Sathewadi, which means her house is quite far. I realized Misal too stays that side of the town. He surely knows where her house is. I need to find out discreetly. I cannot afford to be direct in such matters; the boys would rag me to death. Shirodkar has been with us since last year, but I had not noticed her earlier. We normally know the addresses of most of the boys. I don’t know whether she has any siblings; probably none. I need to find out from Misal.
    I turned gently to find Misal sitting on the third bench next to Gaitonde. Both of them are quite dim-witted. We never mingle with them; being friends with them is out of the question. But I will be able to extract some information out of him.
    The next class was Maths. Halbe sir, though absent-minded, is good-humoured and does not shout at us. He starts teaching the moment he enters, and doesn’t stop to check whether we understand or not. So we are in a fix. I heard someone say that of all the subjects, Maths of ninth standard, in the run-up to tenth standard, is the toughest. Only Bibikar, Ghasu Gokhale and a few others understand the subject well enough. I can, if I try, but I don’t feel up to it most of the time. Chitre too is good at it. He, in fact, likes it. He is usually busy copying everything diligently. So the responsibility of teaching Surya and Phawdya lies with him. But that doesn’t always help. Algebra and Geometry are such topics that everyone flounders.

    T o put it in the language of set theory, which we were taught in Maths class last year, our class can be divided into three sets. The first set is that of intelligent and oversmart boys. There are around five or seven such boys, like Bibikar, Ghasu Gokhale, Surve and Teredesai. The other set consists of us—our gang, and boys like Dashrath, Harishchandra, Santya, and so on. There are some like Chitre who could have, in fact, been part of the first set. The third set comprises the general crowd who are neither in set one nor set two—people like Shembekar, Gaitonde, Misal, Memane, Khandagle, Sadu and so on. They are the biggest set. They are there to fill the classrooms. Their presence or absence makes no difference, but they are needed for a school to run. There are such groups in every school.
    The girls too have such sets amongst them. The birdies and a few others form one set. They think they are smart but are such idiots. Then Sukdi, Rairikar and few form another set: the chalu girls. There are not many in that set of girls. I mentioned this to Chitre once but he