Thursday, 12th October 2023
Sameer Sir was scheduled to hold a lecture for Batch 1 after a two-week gap—the first since the creation of the Apex Batch. That lecture, more than anything else, made the day stand out in my memory.
The night before, we'd all been wondering what he might cover, but underneath it lay a bigger question: what exactly awaited us? The Apex Batch had its path clearly marked—results hoped for in January, April, and maybe even JEE Advanced in June next year. Batch 2 had quietly become the group focusing mostly on boards. And then there was us—Batch 1—stuck somewhere in between, not fully belonging to either side.
In the classroom, our discussion carried on. I offered to gather everyone's questions and ask them if they felt too shy to speak up.
As the second lecture time approached, my eyes kept flicking to the door. Finally, about ten minutes late, Sameer Sir appeared in the corridor. We all rushed to our places. He walked in, set his iPad down on a chair, and perched casually on the table's edge.
"I came late on purpose," he began, "because I was thinking about what to do with this batch. We've finished the syllabus… so, you tell me what should be done."
Before he could finish, I jumped in, "Yes, sir, I was wondering too—what's going to happen with our batch?"
"First of all," he said, "don't worry about not being in the Apex Batch. Nothing extraordinary is happening there."
Then, shifting away from Apex, he spoke about the boards—now just four months away. He shared tips on framing answers, little hacks to pick up extra marks, and announced weekly tests: some focused on boards, others on optional competitive sections for those still aiming higher.
In the end, he let us out half an hour early, asking us to write a short review of AOS Academy—in return for chocolates.
But what truly made the day awfully memorable was something completely different: the swelling in my tonsils. Likely something I'd caught from Vihaan, who'd only just recovered himself. Even the thought annoyed me a little—how easily it had passed on.
When I reached home, I told Maa. At first, it was just an ache across my body, so I decided to nap. But when I woke, the ache had grown into a dull headache.
By late evening, my left cheek had visibly swollen. Papa carefully trimmed the hair on my face before sticking on the belladonna plaster. That night, I didn't feel like eating anything except for a rajbhog ice cream.
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Friday, 13th October 2023
The next morning, as I opened my eyes, I felt pain in every inch of my body. It took a considerable effort to muster the courage to rise and drink some water.
"O God, I am going to die. Please bhagwan utha le mujhe..welcome me, God. I am coming to you."
I began my usual chants, a ritual that seemed to emerge every time I fell ill.
It was five in the morning, and my eyes barely stayed open.
"I'm have to go to coaching today. Naira will see this plaster on my cheek and will surely ask me what happened. I'll tell her about my condition, and she'll kindly remind me to take care. That would be so endearing and heartwarming."
I thought about what I'd do if my condition worsened at the Academy. If it came to that, I'd sleep on the classroom bench. Naira, being the first to arrive after me, would find me there, suffering, and ask about my health.
The door creaked open as Mom emerged from the bedroom. She approached my mattress, her eyebrows knitting together as she saw me awake.
"I'm really not doing well, yaar," I groaned.
She took my temperature and advised me to stay home from the Academy. I resisted her suggestion immediately. Dad handed me some medicine, but I still struggled to get up. He warned me twice before leaving for work that I shouldn't attend classes today.
I waited precisely ten minutes after he left before I decided to get up and brush my teeth.
"Are you still going to class?" Mom asked when she saw me in the bathroom with a toothbrush in my mouth.
"Yes."
"Don't go today. Papa said you need to rest."
"I have two classes today. Missing them isn't an option. Tomorrow, there's only one class, so I'll skip that." I offered a sincere explanation.
"Make sure you're taking care of yourself. Your health isn't at its best."
"Don't worry. I'll manage for one day."
Indian mothers often find themselves caught between their husbands' directives and their children's determination.
Carrying the weight of body pain and my swollen cheek, I entered the Academy, spotting Karan and Piyush right away.
Oh no. It was Mohit Kumar sir's lecture first. Barely anyone ever attended his class. Honestly, there was no point in showing up so early, especially since Naira would arrive for Sunny sir's math lecture, which was next.
Dipali mam and the two boys asked about my cheek, but I honestly didn't know what to tell them—I had no clue what caused it. Shaurya, ever the know-it-all, declared it was a muscle puncture and said using belladonna plasters was pointless. I ignored him, knowing he was way off.
Later, when I went to collect my HSC board form, Raj sir teased me, hinting that a girl had punched me in the face.
Sitting on the second bench, I could feel the room's coldness creeping into my bones as Mohit sir droned on about electrostatics. I did my best to stay focused, even answered a few questions as he worked through the calculations for electric field intensities. But every fifteen minutes or so, I had to step out, trying to motivate myself to stay strong until Naira arrived. I had decided that the moment she saw me, I'd leave, even if it was before the second lecture ended.
As luck would have it, just when twenty minutes were left of the torturous lecture, the power went out.
I rushed out of the class in relief, silently praying that the electricity wouldn't come back soon. Shaurya waved me over from the library, asking me about the ongoing lecture. As I was about to leave, I saw Lizz sitting a few seats ahead of him.
"What happened to you?"
"Huh?" I didn't catch her question the first time.
"Kya hua tujhe?" Lizz always spoke softly, despite her slightly raspy voice.
"Are, woh, my cheek is swollen. I don't know what the problem is. I've got a high fever too... total mess."
"Why did you come then?"
I explained that I didn't want to miss any classes, which, surprisingly, was a bigger priority for me that day than even seeing Naira.
All the classrooms had emptied out, and exhaustion was evident on everyone's faces. As people from both batches passed by, they kept asking me about my cheek. I gave different answers to each one—telling some it was just swelling, while to others, I blamed bacteria.
Eventually, I decided to sit on the floor outside the Academy, shivering and rubbing my palms against my arms for warmth. I was waiting for Naira to arrive and, at the same time, hoping Ramesh and Piyush would stop pestering me to go home and rest. I finally stood up, unable to take their advice any longer, and decided to move to the staircase in front of the PNCF branch of our academy.
I slowly descended the stairs, aiming to sit where a narrow strip of sunlight barely touched the lower steps. Just as I reached my spot, Sushant saw me and sneered, "You're walking like someone just fucked you." I shot him a look but didn't bother replying. Ramesh taunted me again, this time with Lizz standing beside him.
I ignored both of them, sinking into the warmth of the sun for a moment of relief. But soon enough, I stood up again, anxiety creeping in. What if Naira had already arrived in the classroom? I couldn't risk missing her.
As I walked back toward the entrance, I caught sight of a girl with thick, jet-black hair walking down the perpendicular corridor. It had to be Sanjana J.
Right then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Papa, scolding me for attending classes despite my poor health. I quickly texted back, convincing him that attending that day's lectures was important and promising I'd take a day off the next day.
I could barely walk. By the time I reached the door of classroom number 8, Sanjana had already placed her bag inside and was on her way out. As we crossed paths, she squinted slightly, giving my face a puzzled look.
"What happened?" she asked, her expression filled with concern.
"Are woh…" I muttered, shaking my head. How many more people do I need to explain this to? I thought. My mind was too focused on seeing if Naira was already inside. But, remembering my manners and Sanjana's kindness, I quickly turned around and answered her.
"My cheek is swollen because of a bacterial infection," I explained briefly.
"Okayyy…" she replied, sounding somewhat unconvinced. I nodded and turned back toward the classroom, only to hear her voice again after a pause.
"Take care," she added.
I immediately turned around and, in the loudest voice I could manage that day, shouted, "Thank you!" But by then, she had already disappeared into the crowd, walking toward the main door, oblivious to my gratitude.
I entered the classroom. Naira wasn't there yet, but she could arrive any moment. I sat down at my usual spot despite enduring yet another argument with Ramesh and Piyush, who were still trying to convince me to go home and rest. Five minutes later, nearly everyone who had been loitering outside came back in.
Sanjana returned too, clutching her HSC board exam form, which she had just collected from Raj sir. She seemed unusually cheerful, excitedly mentioning that the form fee was only 900 rupees instead of the 1,800 she had expected. I couldn't help but chuckle when she mischievously revealed she had a 2,000 rupee note and planned to keep the extra money without telling her mom.
Her lighthearted attitude continued as she complained about the form being boring to fill. Lizz chimed in, teasing her, asking if she would prefer more personal questions—like how many exes she had or something equally scandalous.
The classroom was still mostly empty, and I could hear Sanjana, Lizz, and another girl chatting away. Sanjana asked about Sameer sir's lecture from the previous day.
"Tanish…," I turned as Lizz asked me to explain what Sameer sir had said in his last lecture. I knew she'd need me there. Lizz not being able to brief Sanjana seemed pretty obvious, so she called me instead.
As I finished explaining, people started returning to the classroom. The biggest friends group of Batch 1, which sat behind me, had everyone—Arjun, Lizz, Shaurya, Sanjana, and Rushika—but Naira still hadn't arrived. That was weird. She rarely missed class when Sanjana was around.
I was hoping my efforts wouldn't go unnoticed when the door finally opened, and there she was. A single ponytail. Lizz and Arjun were sitting right behind me where Naira and Sanjana usually sat, so Naira had to sit behind them. The worst part? She couldn't even see me from there.
To my surprise, she put down her bag but stayed standing, talking to everyone around her. My eyes were secretly watching her, waiting for her to look back at me.
"Haa...the one in RRR…with Ram Charan…I can't remember his name," Naira said. Their conversation was loud enough for me to hear.
"He's got Jr. in his name…I don't remember the full name either," I added, seeing my chance.
"Haa, haa" Naira looked at me, nodded quickly, and then turned back to Sanjana, blinking her eyes.
"What the heck? Naira looked at me but didn't notice the plaster?"
I decided to stay quiet and sit back in my usual spot, waiting. Five minutes passed, and Naira was still standing, talking to people but not noticing me. I eventually looked away.
"Uh, Tuh-nish?"
"YES, finally!" I thought.
"Kya hua tujhe?" she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly, her big eyes showing that playful glint she was known for, with a faint smile like she assumed I wasn't that bad off. Maybe I looked fine to her.
"Are…there's a bacteria that caused swelling," I tried to keep it simple. She nodded and turned back to Sanjana before I even finished.
"She could've at least told me to take care, like the girl next to her did." The smile I had when I saw her soon faded. My health, which had improved a little, felt like it got worse again. Both ACs were on since the power came back, and sitting on the second bench, I was shivering. Sunny sir hadn't come in yet. The two girls in front of me suddenly moved to the third-last bench. I wondered why, but the only benefit seemed to be that it looked warmer there.
Ignoring any judgment from others, I grabbed my bag and sat behind them. I had just closed my eyes when Sunny sir walked in. He was the second one to joke about the plaster, asking if it was really a bacterial infection or if someone hit me, and I was hiding the injury. I quickly denied it, saying I'm all about non-violence.
Then the conversation shifted to Paresh missing his NDA exam by six marks, and he started teasing Shaurya, who was in NCC. Meanwhile, Prashant kept interrupting, saying he'd take the NDA exam too, but only for fun, until I cut him off, telling him to focus on the exam instead of bragging, which made everyone laugh—even Naira, who looked back at me.
We were supposed to continue with differential equations, but I'd already decided I wasn't going to study. I sat back, planning to nap while sir was at the front, only opening my notebook when he came to check on us. Naira and Sanjana's gossip caught my attention when I heard Naira mention my name. Upon asking what they were talking about, both acted like it was nothing—Naira said it wasn't important, and Sanjana just shook her head. I let it go, assuming Naira was telling Sanjana about the rumors that I had a crush on Naira.
What snapped me out of my nap next were Paresh's squinted eyes staring at Sanjana. I slowly adjusted, rubbing my eyes, trying to see what was going on. Sanjana, who was always said to not give him any attention, wasn't even looking at him—she was either gossiping with Naira or focused on the board. Paresh, on the other hand, was glancing between her and the board, writing with his left hand. Then suddenly, he looked away, maybe realizing I'd caught him.
"Yes, it was a diff...," Naira whispered to the girl beside her.
"Wait, are you talking about differentiation?" I asked.
"Huh?" she turned to me.
"What are you two talking about?"
"I was telling her a story."
"Okay…well, be a little louder then, I want to hear it too." I shifted to the center of the bench to hear them better but quickly gave up on that and went back to resting against the wall. As I got comfortable, I forgot about the plaster and accidentally placed my cheek on my palm, shouting in pain loud enough for Sunny sir to stop writing and look back.
While everyone returned to their books, I was quietly chanting in pain, only the two girls in front of me hearing.
"Tu theek hai?" Sanjana asked.
"Huh?" I hadn't heard her properly.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just pressed on my cheek and forgot about the plaster."
She nodded, patiently listening, one of her best traits.
The lecture finally ended, and I rushed to fill out the HSC form everyone had already submitted. I opened the image sir had forwarded and started entering my details. Everything was fine until I got to the section asking about individual, group, or institute categories. I turned to Sanjana for help since she was still with her group.
"You're an individual, right?" she pointed at the option. I nodded and ticked it.
"Okay, now put a cross there. You're not a divyang candidate, right?" she asked, and I agreed. She went on explaining the rest of the options, helping me with stuff like religious minority and caste. Even though I knew some, like the disabilities section, she still briefed me. Sanjana even dictated the subject codes, and I filled them in while she glanced between my form and Naira's group.
"Thanks a lot," I said, picking up the form.
"You're welcome."
I got up, grabbed my bag, and was about to leave when Sanjana called after me.
"Take care of yourself."
"Huh?"
"Take care," she repeated.
"Thanks."
"Tanish!"
I looked over at the first bench and saw it was Ayaan. I'll forever be grateful I heard him right the first time, or else he'd have teased me again about only talking to girls and ignoring the guys. He was the last one to ask me about my face.
After submitting the form in sir's office, where I had to explain why I didn't write my father's name between mine and my surname, I headed out. The four girls were sitting on the lobby sofa, and I still had to collect the receipt for the previously submitted cheque, which took another ten minutes of mine, after which I finally reached the bus stop. After a while, the bus finally arrived—but it was already packed. I could barely stand properly in the crowd, swaying with every turn.
When I got off at my stop, I somehow managed to stumble my way home, almost losing balance with every step, but eventually, I made it.
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Saturday, October 14, 2023
I found out I had tonsillitis—and it had gotten worse. By then, both my cheeks were swollen, and I was told to gargle with Betadine. Lying in bed, my whole body aching, I still found myself hoping for a message from Naira.
Something like, "How are you, Tanish?" or "Are you okay now?" or even just "Take care." But deep down, I knew that was wishful thinking. Out of everyone who'd seen me the day before, Ramesh was probably the only one who'd actually text to ask how I was.
I told Papa I wouldn't attend Sameer sir's lecture that day and also shared this on our WhatsApp group. As expected, it was Ramesh who checked in about my health.
The only thing that kept me excited that day was the World Cup match between India and Pakistan. Originally scheduled for October 15, it had been moved a day earlier after the local police in Ahmedabad raised security concerns.
What looked like a good batting pitch for Pakistan turned disastrous as they lost two wickets for just 73 runs. Babar and Rizwan steadied things with an 80-run partnership, but once they were dismissed, the rest collapsed like dominoes. Nasser Hussain's famous line—"It is a disaster only Pakistan can manufacture"—was everywhere on social media. India chased down the target easily, with Rohit Sharma lighting up the Narendra Modi Stadium with a brilliant 86 off 63 balls, including six sixes.
It took me four days to recover from the illness—just enough to be able to walk around again.
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Tuesday, October 17, 2023
"Bhai, tera ye jo face hai na, ye idhar se idhar aa gaya hai," Naira laughed, dropping her bag on the bench behind me. She moved her hand under her chin, showing how the swelling had spread from my cheeks down to my chin. Every time I turned my head, I could feel it shift, almost like it was hanging.
"It's swelled up a lot," she repeated, still amused.
Outside, Sameer sir had spotted me and asked how I was. I regretted telling him I hadn't gone to the doctor. He noticed the swelling had doubled and insisted on taking me himself. Somehow, I convinced him not to call my parents, promising I'd go after class.
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Friday, October 20, 2023
End of Tonsillitis and the Grand Garba
"Your face looks much better today. Uss din toh ekdum bhature jaise phool gaya tha," Sajit sir joked, comparing my swollen face to a puffed-up bhatura. By then, most of the swelling had gone, though I still had a plaster on my cheek.
"Sir, do you like chole bhature?" I asked, since they're my favorite.
"No, too oily," he replied flatly.
His lectures often wandered beyond textbooks—racism, regionalism, even local festivals. With Navratri in full swing, he asked if there were any major Garba events happening in Kharghar. We mentioned the Grand Garba, and I remembered overhearing Naira and her group had planned to go, but later dropped the idea. Meanwhile, I'd thought about going solo.
That afternoon after coming back home, I was half-asleep when I saw a missed call from Mayanti and Arjun. Two hours later, I listened to a voice message from Mayanti, asking if I wanted to join them for the Grand Garba. Earlier, I'd dropped the idea after Karan told me it was a couples-only event.
Even Papa had asked if I had Garba plans with friends So I told her yes, and she offered to pick me up. When I informed Maa, she seemed suspicious—especially after I reassured her while buttoning up my black kurta, which I had decided to wear against the dress code, which was probably green. Arjun had assured me that it won't be a problem since Lizz was against the dress code too, in a white lehenga. Before leaving, I removed the plaster from my cheek.
Outside Mayanti's building, I waited for about ten minutes before she arrived, and from there we headed to Utsav Chowk's Grand Garba. We met Rushika, Sai, and some B2 girls; Arjun and Lizz were on the other side.
Everyone was in high spirits, especially Mayanti, who said, "Only Naira and Sanjana are missing. It would've been even better if they were here." I couldn't help but picture Naira in traditional attire, her smile bright in the festive lights.
Inside, we formed small circles that merged into a larger one. It was my first time playing Garba, and my coordination was terrible. I kept bumping into Sammy in front and Lizz behind. They tried showing me the steps, but I kept getting them wrong. Every other turn, I'd glance around—half-hoping to see Naira somewhere in the crowd, laughing.
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