Playing Hooky
“He’s going to be here any minute,” the girl from the back exclaimed. I had heard it before and was determined not to get played again.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I said. “You say that every time Karn is late.”
“No sir, he is at the main gate. They are not letting him in as he’s not wearing a tie,” she insisted.
“Okay, fine, but this is the last time. When the rest of you can make it for my 7 a.m. class, why can’t Karn?”
The students responded with a stony silence.
I marked him ‘Present’ and went on with my teaching.
It was around twelve noon and I was starting to get hungry. My lunch box looked unappetizing but the claws in the stomach worked overtime.
Sandwiches again. Oh, well, at least there was some spicy potato between the buns.
I was about to take the first bite when an authoritative knock came. Definitely not a student.
“Come in,” I said eyeing my untouched sandwich. It was looking more appealing now.
Three police officers walked in. Law enforcement folks make me jumpy and I feel I’m guilty of something the moment I make eye contact.
“Dr. Malhotra?” the obviously senior officer spoke. It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes?” I ventured.
“Karn Sharma is your student?”
“Yes?” I repeated.
“He was in your 7 am class today?”
“Er…he was late.”
“But he did come in?”
I was sweating now.
“No, I marked him as present as another student said he was held up at the gate”
“Karn Sharma hanged himself at 5 a.m. this morning,” the officer barked.
The wetness under my chair wasn’t drinking water.
