The Departing Train Theorem

Chapter 13

The Departing Train Theorem

There's this thing about pencils. You drop it in the classroom and just in a blink it disappears. You search for it for a lifetime but it’s existence terminates just as it hits the ground. However on a hopeless day when you need to hide your head from the teacher who is standing out of your class waiting to announce your examination results, it turns up right where your eyes looks. I’m so fascinated right now that I wanna scream aloud about my great discovery. But hell’s upside down there. I'm better hidden under the bench. I hope she gets irritated by those who scored horribly less and leaves the class frustrated before she announces mine. Oh, I shouldn't have showed up today. I hate it when my teacher makes me feel embarrassed about my marks. Why does she need to shout my marks at me. I know I’m not a Nerd! I mean I don’t shout about how ugly she looks!

'Karthik. What are you doing? ' Kesha asked.

‘What am I doing? Ah..What is she doing in my class?’ I looked at sagar. He starred stupidly.

‘Nah... Nothing. I was searching for my pencil. What are you doing in my class? Don’t you have your biology class right now?' I said to kesha showing her my stupid pencil.

'Yeah,That. Actually your class monitor is absent so she asked me to distribute everyone’s marksheet.' She pointed at the teacher. I looked at her weirdly. She smiled back wickedly.

‘Umm..Yours!’She handed me mine from the stack of sheets.

‘That bitch has some ways to get on my nerves!’ I said in frustration seeing my marks.

'It's not her fault you score less. Be thankful to her. Your marks are because of her. You shouldn't curse her!' she was annoyed. I don’t know what’s with her and morals.

'I didn't mean to say it out loud. ' I apologized.

‘It still doesn't change a thing.'

‘Okay! I'm sorry.’

‘You should be.' She left.

‘God! Once you start making her feel that you love her, she just wants everything her way!’

'She was right.' Sagar poked me.

'What? Oh. Why am I saying everything out loud? What's wrong with me! '

'You're in love, buddy.' He punched my chest.

‘Oh, come on. I was since like six months.'

'Well, let me correct myself. You're in a relationship, buddy. ' he cheered.

'Do you think? I mean I know just a hug doesn't seal the deal but it really was a..moment. I've never felt like that in my entire life. You won't believe me but... '

'But you know she's the one, man! You told me this thrice this morning. Enough now!'

‘Okay! Chill. I don't bail out when you bore me with all the science stuff!'

'oh it reminds me I'm going to this art exhibition on saturday. Would you give me some company?'

'See that's what I'm talking about. '

'So you are not bailing out, then? '

'Ofcourse I'm. I have better things to do on Saturday night. And since when did you started visiting art shows?'

'It’s fun. And it freshens my mind. Anyways you're gonna miss a lot of cool stuff.'

'I think I'll do just fine.'

'Okay then.  Your call. Your Regret.’

‘Man, Enough with that. I’m not coming!’

‘Because of your grades?'

'I passed. That's it. Who cares now.'

'Very well. And kesha? '

'What about her? '

'She's an A grade student. Is she okay with you're marks?'

'Yeah. Why would she have a problem with that?’

'I don't know. The way she was behaving.'

‘ No that’s normal she. You don’t see her acting weirdly, she’s not my girl!' I winked.

‘ And what's wrong with my marks. They are a little embarrassing but what does our relationship has to do with that? Don't make me over-think things, sagar!'

'Whatever.' he turned back to his books.

‘It's not a big deal with kesha is it?' I asked jaimin at the canteen table.

'What! No. She knows you are a fool. Your grades are perfectly fine. '

You can’t even use a little sarcasm and you’re calling me a fool! Great! This might be how the world ends.’

‘Why is world ending? Your grades hit the ground and some volcanoes erupted?' Taral joined him.

‘I passed, okay! And what is with everybody mocking me about my grades! What’s your result Miss 'Not so scholar’! '

'Trying to get close to your girlfriend's grades but she's one hard nerd.'

'What! I'm not his girlfriend.!'Kesha took charge as she sat.

I just ate my food. I didn’t mind her denying the fact. I knew she was into me. It's okay if she hides her feelings for a little while. It's love. I smiled at her.

'So karthik, are your parents gonna be okay with your grades? 'Kesha asked.

' Why are you asking that? '

' Just..Casually. I mean mine take it way too seriously.'

‘ Mine does too! And what do you know about bad grades?’

' I don’t always score A. I have also seen some big C’s in my life.'

'How did that happen?’

'I joined dancing classes in 8th standard and that rarely gave me time to study but I finally got over it' she frowned.

‘Clearly.’ I already was on the dance floor slow-dancing with my arms wrapped around her.

'Why are you smiling?' She asked watching my lips going ear to ear.

'No. Nothing. It's nice to know you can dance.'

'Do you dance? '

'No. Not much. '

'Maybe I can teach you some.' she smiled at me.

I smiled back.

'Okay. That's enough.' taral Interrupted.

'What! ' Kesha and I cried together.

It felt nice. We finally were acting like a couple. I was a little romance fanatic but she just completed me. Sometimes I feared I didn't deserved her but God's will, I had her.

Dinner Table conversation were the most terrifying for the people of my age. You have to hear them scream at you, you can't argue, you can't run away. It was a hell's roadway to everyone. While I never really had a bad conversation with my parents at the dinner table. Beside the fact my mom gets really mad when we talk while having dinner, it is also because in one sentence, My parents are awesome. They never overlooked the fact that I was not that great academically but they were always cool about it. They let me handle my stuff unless I failed. At such circumstances, my mom is a strict lady-Hitler. But that was pretty fair on both sides. While that day, was not about being fair. It was about facing the truth.

'So karthik, your first semester results came out today. your grades will fairly get you into any good college if I'm not wrong!.' My dad set TV on mute stating the obvious fact. Those were the harshest words my dad had ever told me. He was so cool that when I stated that 'Cool’ is my middle name, I totally meant it.

'Yeah I know dad but I'm not so good at it. I mean I try but I'm sure I can't be any better at this. But i’ll try harder next time. Sorry. ' I meant what I said.

'We give you almost everything you ask. Can't you do just one thing and concentrate on studies?' My mom joined with her emotional drama.

'It's not one thing. And I’m not some scientist guy! I'm not gonna be an engineer. I'm not good at it.'

'You're no longer a kid karthik. You're 17 and by this age, you should be mature enough. It was understandable when you were a teen but now, you're nearly an adult! you chose your field. we didn't forced you into anything. Don’t talk like it’s not your fault.' My mom scolded me. she always does that. kind of her hobby.

'I know I'm not a kid anymore! I said I'll study hard next time. But I can't excel school just like that.'

'I'm not asking you to be an engineer. Nobody is. I'm saying, we’re saying that you need to Excel at one particular thing. Make your career out of it. Your life, your way. But think of one.' my dad stressed.

'I'm good at basketball. I like playing it. I'll make a career in it.'

‘Nobody makes a career out of basketball in India. Yes, you can be a coach if that’s what you’re goal is. and frankly son, you play in your school team. You can’t Make a  career out of it anyway. You know that.' He flushed out the mere chance of me earning a livelihood. Oh, who am I kidding! I know i’m not that good at sports.

'Look I don't want to lecture you son but you have disappointed me. I trusted you. I always thought You’ll yourself figure out what you’re gonna do with your life but you’re simply too busy ignoring it.'

‘So why don’t you trust me now?’

‘I do. but what you don’t understand is that right now you are standing on the platform. There is a train leaving in every direction. It’s time you decide which one you want to ride into. Stand there and see every train go or worst, get on the wrong train and it will take you a lifetime to change it.’ Damn. This was one of the best philosophies I heard from my dad. Don't misunderstand the example, my dad doesn't work even anywhere near to trains. He owns a gift shop in town. His business is pretty good. It is a delight to see him with the customers. He just cracks through their brains and hands them what they can't even imagine of before entering our shop and they just love it.

‘I know what I want to be. I've been thinking about it but I'm not just sure enough to tell you about it.'

‘What is it?’

'Art. I want to be in Arts. In fact I'm going to this art show on this Saturday. With Sagar. '  I lied. I was feeling so guilty but I had to tell him something. He said he was disappointed. Man, I couldn't let that happen.

'Art! Son you confuse me. You chose science stream and now you suddenly want arts as your career!'

'I'm not sure dad. I need time.'

'You're missing the train, dear. You'll never know when it'll leave. Opportunities do not wait for long.'

'I know. Just give me a few days.'

'Karthik, just figure it out okay?’ He finally asked in his ‘end of conversation face’,

I nodded. I already was embarrassed enough. I went straight to my room. He was right. I knew that. but dropping it all over all at once blanked me. I was mad at my parents. Mostly I was mad at myself because now I would have to go to the stupid art show with sagar. I was planning to ask kesha out. It could have been our first official date. Oh, I hated myself.

～

‘Are you sure you wanna do this?’ Sagar asked.

‘ Last thing I wanna do on a weekend but yes.’ The last thing I said and I was still standing facing an art gallery with sagar.

‘Come on then.’

We bought the tickets. I couldn’t believe I was paying for seeing some random paintings by some hipsters. A line goes up and a goes down. Look! how beautiful that is! Huh. I moved ahead.

‘Why is a shoe on this thing? And why’s all the spikes inside?’ I asked sagar in disgust.

‘Don’t touch it. It must mean something.’ He went looking for someone.

Mean? Why do you put spikes inside a shoe. It would have made sense if they were outside. But then it will be football shoes and no art. Anyways, I was just there to punish myself. Why was I noticing all the nonsense.

‘I’m back.’ Sagar said catching a breath.

‘ I can’t see you. Where are you?’ I said Sarcastically.

‘You see, the spikes inside the shoes are a metaphor for the troubles in the life of the artist. He expresses them by the most common quote you must have heard..’

‘Walk into my shoes before you try to judge me.’ I interrupted.

‘Yes. exactly.’ he smiled.

‘Fascinating!’ I said looking at the painting again.

‘Indeed.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘The man over there. He’s kind of a friend. He’s a painter himself.’

‘Does he have paintings in this exhibition?’

‘Yes. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Cool. Let’s see some of his work.’ I asked him to guide me.

I never understood art the way I saw it now. It was just a mere amount of time wasted on a empty paper to me. Creating a world through lines and curves was never this attractive. I could see the amount of time they put on it. It was hard to believe that an hour ago I thought art was a waste of time. We spend next three hours around the gallery and the man, K.K., as Sagar called him showed us around and I had nothing but respect for that guy. He was an incredible painter. With much less fame than he deserved though.

‘I had a great time, dude.’ I said to sagar as we were leaving the gallery.

‘You should be thanking me that I showed you your future passion. and if you can, your livelihood.’

‘What livelihood? I can’t paint stuff like that. And why would I paint for a living?’

‘You know you’re Impossible! An hour ago you were saying that it was so majestic you could spend a lifetime watching those thing and now suddenly you're against it .’

‘I loved the show and all the paintings and all but I’m not an artist. Like I love playing guitar, that doesn’t mean I wanna be a musician! I’m just saying that I’m not regretting my decision of joining you today.’

‘So no art?’

‘No. But I can see that it will help me getting to the right train.’

‘Right train?’ he asked.

‘It’s this thing my dad said...Nevermind. Just start your bike.’

‘Oh, I thought you were going to catch a train.’ he mocked.

‘Just drive, you Moron!’ I chuckled.