Big Ears

When Shruti was five, she encountered for the first time division based on intellect. Her play school teacher divided the class into Big Ears and Noddy. Big Ears students read higher-level stories while Noddy students stuck to the basic ones. Shruti was selected to be in Big Ears, and she can never forget how her heart glowed. She walked around with pride, intentionally showing off the Clifford Book she had picked from the Big Ears section. Only one thing brought her down, which was that her best friend Alina had been put in the Noddy group. Alina seemed fine with it, but Shruti wasn’t. She felt betrayed that Alina didn’t care. She felt confused; how could Alina not care? Shruti relayed the sequence of events to her mum, hoping for some adult explanation or intervention that could make Alina come to her group. However, all she got from her mother was praise for making it to the High Level Reading group and a vague remark about how Alina came from ‘the kind of people for whom education was secondary.’ Shruti didn’t quite understand this; perplexed, she interrogated Alina about her ‘kind of people’ the next day. Alina, equally perplexed, said that it didn’t matter to her that she wasn’t in some high-level English; she only cared about having lunch with her best friend, Shruti, and going to the mosque every day. This made sense to Shruti, and so she dropped the topic and continued on with the ordinary life of a five-year-old.

Shruti grew up reading Enid Blyton and imagining a life where breakfast consisted of marmalade, trays of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. She idealised English life and wished she had a group of five that went about solving mysteries every summer. The books she read had taught her that all fun happens in a group, and a good group consists of members who play a very specific role tied closely to their personality. Hence, she shuffled between groups throughout school, finding the right one that had a mix of personalities with a shared passion to explore or achieve something beyond the basics. Unfortunately, not everyone shared her ambition, and so she left the groups disappointed whenever she didn’t fit.

Shruti went to a convent that was established when the British ruled India. It was hence not surprising that the school bore a colonial hangover in all its processes. The school was insufferable when it came to discipline, and teachers made no attempt to hide the sexist foundations of the draconian rules. Girls had to wear knee-length uniforms, and girls who dared to bare their knees were only asking for trouble. At the age of 9, girls were taught the proper way to sit and reprimanded if there was even an inch of a gap between their legs when they sat. Mornings began with reciting hymns and ‘Our Father who art in heaven,’ and oaths were taken to abide by the Christian values of service and kindness. The exposure to British literature mingled with the veneration of Christian values convinced Shruti that Christianity was a superior faith. She also noticed that Christians spoke impeccable English, and as she grew up, she learnt that English was the social currency of status. She would see her mother, a boisterous and chatty woman at home, who would impulsively swoop to an odd level of reticence when placed in a group of native English speakers. Shruti saw ‘Speak in English’ signs all over her school, and teachers would mock any students who spoke in Hindi. Shruti found this confusing at first, as she spoke in Hindi at home, but slowly her education whitewashed her into believing that Hindi was something to be embarrassed about. Children would boast about scoring poorly in Hindi, as this meant they were too polished to know one of India’s native tongues. However, the worst fate fell on the Marathi teachers, who were treated with not even a modicum of respect. Their periods started with exasperated tries to control the class and ended with teachers asking students to just mug up the questions that were going to come in the exam. Marathi teachers were certainly the most thick-skinned people, Shruti thought.

Even though Shruti’s school was a convent, there were students of all faiths in the school. Like every school, Shruti’s school also had a hierarchy. On the top of the pyramid were Prefects, the paragon of principles and academics. They were followed by the smart kids, who excelled in studies and looked down upon people who wasted their time in extracurriculars. Then came the sports kids, who made up for their lack of grades by representing the school in big leagues and wore their jerseys to school instead of the knee-length uniforms as a badge of honour. And, they were followed by the rest. Shruti knew she had no athletic capability, and so she strived to be part of the top two rungs of this coveted ladder.

When Shruti was eleven, she started facing trouble in studies. Her family was moving houses, and adjusting to a new locality was proving to be more difficult than she had imagined. Her younger brother, who needed much more help adjusting, became the sole focus of her parents. Her interactions with her parents were limited to grades, and the pressure to perform was unnerving. One day, she was walking with Alina, who had found her passion in sports and was the captain of the under-12 football team. They were discussing their geography scores.

“I am so happy I got a 90/100,” Alina exclaimed. Shruti’s heart sank as she heard this. She had always assumed Alina was the sports kind, hence non-threatening to her since studies were not her thing. But now, Alina had scored a 90, which was something unexpected, something Shruti had not imagined was possible. Shruti had a tendency to box people. She would assign them a role and expect them to behave as per that role. Hence, when she found Alina, who was supposed to be in the ‘not good at academics but good at sports’ box, scoring a 90/100, it broke her system. And what made it worse was the fact that she herself had scored only 85/100.

“How much did you get?” Alina asked.

“85, I think,” Shruti said confidently to not let her insecurity be shown.

“Whoa, I beat you? This is crazy. I cannot believe I beat Shruti Sharma.”, Alina screamed.

Shruti’s face reddened. She could feel heat rising up in her body, her ears burnt, and her feet shook. Her heart beat ferociously as though the very ground she was standing on was cracking, ready to swallow her in.

“Relax, Shru, I am only kidding. Let me treat you to some fryums!” Alina added and pulled Shruti to the canteen. Shruti faked a smile and fought back her tears.

Shruti felt that she couldn’t feel worse than she did that day, but she was wrong. The next day, she got her English marks, and she had scored 84/100. She already knew that Alina had scored an 89, and scoring less in English was a blow to Shruti’s self-worth. Not only had she scored low marks in the only subject that matters, but she had scored lower than Alina, who wasn’t even supposed to be good at English. In fact, Alina had not read a single book in her life, while Shruti prided herself on being the first person in her grade to finish the entire Harry Potter series. Shruti was devastated. She saw the 84 marked in pencil on the answer sheet and was struck with an idea. Mrs. Roberts always wrote the marks in pencil first in case there were any errors in her correction, and she would run her red ink on the marks only after the paper discussion. Shruti threw open her pencil box and took out an eraser. She looked around the class and saw everyone busy counting their marks and inspecting the answer key for any chance of errors made in correction. Shruti rubbed out the 8 of 84. She practiced writing 9 in her notebook, and when she felt confident, she wrote a 9 on her paper before 4. She looked at the 94. It looked alien to her. She looked at her hands, and she could see ‘94’ tattooed on the palm of her hands. She rubbed her hands together and drank a sip of water. Mrs. Roberts had started calling students to her table to ink in the marks. Shreya Sanyal is called up. Shruti was next. “Shruti Sharma,” Mrs. Roberts yells. Shruti got up and walked calmly to the desk. Mrs. Roberts inked the 94 and paused. She looked up at Shruti. Shruti’s heart pounded so loudly that she was sure the whole class could hear it. Mrs. Roberts broke into a smile and looked back down as she etched ‘Very Good’ on Shruti’s paper and handed it back. Shruti sighed for a second and then quickly returned to her act. She smiled and bounced back to her desk.

When she returned home, her mother asked about her grades. She softly told her the marks, leaving English for the end. Her mother jumped up in joy hearing the grades and ordered a cake to celebrate. Shruti looked at the cake and felt like throwing up. She ran to her room and cried. She felt a heavy tug in her heart and vowed to never do this again. However, fate was not going to let her go so easily.

In the next exam, she scored 88 while Alina scored 90. Shruti had decided not to change her marks again; however, she remembered a comment her mother had made the previous day about Alina. “Alina’s mother told me about how well she has been scoring in the exam while going off for football tournaments in the middle of tournaments. It is embarrassing that someone from their background is doing as well as us. Her father is only a driver, while your father is a government official”. Shruti hadn’t understood what was embarrassing, but she felt a pang of jealousy that Alina was outperforming at everything while Shruti wasn’t doing well at the one thing that was supposed to be her thing. She felt a force grip her hand, and swiftly, she changed the marks again, making the 88 a 98. At age 10, being a novice cheater, Shruti didn’t realise that a 98/100 would rouse suspicion. And hence, that day she was caught, and her mother was called to school. Shruti felt deep shame. All the Christian virtues talked about in the morning assembly started haunting her. She was dreading going home, and so when the bus dropped her at her gate, she spent half an hour walking around the building instead of going up. She felt feverish, and her brain was fogging up. Finally, she mustered up the courage and went home, resigned to receiving the worst scolding of her life.

When she reached home, she saw that her mother had laid out her favourite chutney sandwiches. Her body was still in fight-or-flight response, so she didn’t pick up a single one even though she was starving. However, what followed shocked her. Her mother didn’t shout at all.

“We have been putting too much pressure on you. We understand why you did this, but please remember marks and all don’t matter when you are not a good human. As Hindus, you must remember God is watching everything. We must always do what is right. Your father is an IAS officer; your grandfather was a top-ranking engineer with the government. You come from legacy. We don’t need to cheat. I know you wouldn’t have thought of this. You must have been influenced by some friends who come from a different background where lying and cheating are a way of life. But you need to beware of such people. I have told you time and again to be careful around such people. You will not disappoint us like this again. Remember, principles come first.”, her mother explained. Shruti felt a burden lifted from her after this. She felt supported and secure. She knew that her mother was alluding to Alina when she spoke about “a different background,” but she didn’t defend Alina. She wanted the conversation to end, and if her parents felt she was not actually a bad person, she wanted to keep it that way.

This whole incident had made her act out of character. She shoved this memory to the back of her mind. She stopped feeling any jealousy or ill feeling towards Alina. She felt she owed Alina an apology for thinking poorly of her. She even felt slightly guilty for not defending Alina in front of her mother. She called up Alina right away and, without telling her any of the incidents, asked if she wanted to come over. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow instead?” Alina suggested. Shruti had never been to Alina’s home, so she felt excited at the opportunity.

Shruti’s mother dropped her off at Alina’s house the next day. “I’ll pick you up in two hours. Don’t eat anything without checking if it is veg,” her mother said.

Alina’s house was above a small boutique that sold sarees. Shruti climbed up through a staircase in the shop. The house had a living room with bright pink walls and two bedrooms. Alina shared her room with her older brother Adil. Their room had bright blue walls with posters of Salman Khan and Aishwarya Rai. Alina’s mother wore a colourful floral salwar kamiz. She offered Shruti some ruafza and sweets. Shruti thanked her. Alina switched on the TV in her room, and they decided to watch a movie. Alina had the pirated version of Dhoom, but she needed her brother to help with the DVD player. “Adil bhaijaan,” she screamed. Adil appeared at the doorway. He was dressed in a long black kurta, a silver chain around his neck and three silver rings on his fingers. His hair was long and oily, and his eyes were dark. For a second, Shruti felt scared, but she didn’t understand why. Adil smiled and said, “Plans on watching Hrithik Roshan, is it?”. Shruti instantly felt comfortable and warmed up to him. Adil switched on the movie for them and left the room.

Two hours later, Shruti’s mother called Alina’s landline. Her mother said she was running late. “My abu can drop you,” Alina chipped in. “Alina is saying her father can drop me,” Shruti told her mother through the phone. “No need for you to be alone with Alina’s father in a car. You just sit tight, and I will be there. Alina’s mother is home, right?”, her mother asked. “Yes,” Shruti replied and cut the phone. Shruti looked down and shuffled her feet nervously. “Well, more time for us to talk,” Shruti said cheerfully, but she sensed that Alina was bothered about something. Could she have heard what Shruti’s mother had said? She decided not to address it and broached a safe topic that she knew Alina would talk about. “I heard Samir from the boys football team has enrolled in the same tuition as us for next year,” Shruti said. Alina’s eyes gleamed.

A few months later, Alina and Shruti moved to the sixth grade. They were put into the same division, and they couldn’t be happier. Shruti’s grades were back on track, and she had found a new passion—debating. She felt proud that she could also represent her school in something, and of course, this gave her mother a brand new chip on her shoulder.

“Naina Singh’s mother has called us over for dinner,” Shruti’s mother informed her one evening.
“Why? I am not even friends with Naina”, Shruti retorted. “Well, she has called all the top students from the batch. Even Larissa and Meghna are going. They are such good girls, so well mannered. You should mingle with them,” Shruti’s mother explained. “Oh, they are nerds. Goody two shoes. I’d much rather hang with Alina,” Shruti said while rolling her eyes. “Alina is sweet, of course, and hard-working as well. But Larissa and all, their family values match ours.”, her mother said while walking to the kitchen.

What family values, Shruti wondered. Her mother had never even spoken to Larissa’s mother; how could she even know about their family values? What are family values anyways? And how does her mother think Alina’s values differ?

On the night of the dinner at Naina’s house, her parents decided to take a taxi as their car had gone for repair. Naina Singh lived in Sopanbaug, a posh area in Pune that housed the old money elites. “You know, Naina Singh’s family went to Greece last year,” Shruti's mother remarked to her father. “Oh yes, Rakesh is on the management committee of Microsoft here. He was my junior in IIT. But then, of course, I pursued civils, and he went on to join the private sector. Look where it got us”, Shruti’s father said and sighed.

“Bhaiya, take the new bridge route. Don’t take the next right,” Shruti’s mother said suddenly to the driver.

“Why not? The right turn will go towards the old MG marg, right? It is faster”, Shruti said.

“That area is not safe. Especially at night”, her mother replied.

Old MG Marg was where Alina lived. Shruti wondered why Alina would live in an unsafe area. Did Alina even know she was living in an unsafe area? What made the area unsafe anyway?

In September that year, Alina and Shruti went for their first 3D movie, Lion King. This day marked one of the happiest memories shared between the two best friends. Shruti and Alina had watched Lion King for the first time when they were seven years old at Shruti’s home. They had cried so much after the movie that Shruti’s father had to take them for ice cream. Five years later, the two girls were watching the movie in 3D at a fancy, new theatre, and this time as well, they cried just as much. This memory remains etched in Shruti’s mind, as this was the last time she went out with Alina.

In November, Shruti and Alina were busy with annual day practice. Both of them had landed roles in the school play, and practice went on till late after school. One day, Shruti’s parents had gone to Mumbai for some work and couldn’t pick her up from school. Shruti waited at Alina’s house. It was around 9:30 pm. The two girls had just finished dinner and were engrossed in the new episode of Hannah Montana when Alina’s brother Adil rushed into the room and snatched the remote. “Hey!” Alina screamed. Adil switched on the news. Within a minute, the telephone began to ring. “It’s your father, Shruti,” Alina’s mother said. Shruti saw the headline on the TV screen before running to the phone. TERRORIST ATTACK IN MUMBAI.

“Hello, Papa,” Shruti said, trembling.

“We are on our way back from Mumbai. There has been a terrorist attack in Taj. We are on our way. Don’t you worry. Naina Singh’s father will be picking you up. You will go and stay with her, and we will pick you up from there. He will be there in a few minutes. Please be ready and call from the car”, her father said.

“We should never have let her stay at that Mohammedan's home,” her mother said in the background.

“Why can’t I just stay here? What do you mean by a terrorist attack?”, Shruti trembled.

“Just do what we are saying. I want you out of that area ASAP”, her father said and cut the call. Shruti walked back to the TV room. The commentator was giving details of the attack.

“An Islamic terrorist group has bombed four locations in South Bombay. They are currently in the Taj hotel and have taken more than 200 people hostage. 4 blasts have been heard already from the hotel. The group is most likely to have roots in a militant group in Pakistan.

Alina started crying. Her mother hugged both Alina and Shruti. “Allah, please have mercy,” she said. “Where is Abu?” Adil asked his mother. “He has gone out of town for some work,” she replied, shaking.

The doorbell rang. It was Naina’s father. “You’re leaving?” Alina asked Shruti. Shruti was very confused. Her mind was blank. “Yes, my father said I need to stay at Naina’s. It isn’t safe here,” Shruti said and left. Alina stared at her. Her face was flushed, her throat had a lump, and her voice was shaking. “Not safe?” she whispered. Shruti said nothing and closed the door behind her.

Naina’s father was on a call as he drove. “This has gotten out of hand. There were children. India needs to improve its security. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry from Pakistan can come into the country these days. Who even does the background check of these people anymore?”

Over the next few days, Shruti’s mind was in turmoil. Schools had been shut. She had read about the attack and watched the nation’s most popular commentator give his views every night at 9 pm. Her mother had said things like, “These Muslims are violent from birth; they are taught to kill. Haven’t you seen them slaughter goats?” The news anchor had said, “Muslim youth everywhere are being brainwashed and recruited into militant groups like this. They are being told to convert or kill people from other faiths.”

Shruti tried to make sense of it all. Are all terrorists Muslim? Or worse, are all Muslims terrorists? What will she do if a terrorist attacks her? Should she learn verses of the Quran? Maybe she could convince them she is Muslim and they will pardon her. She should get her family to learn it as well. She made up scenarios in her mind of attacks. She could tell the terrorist that her best friend is Muslim; maybe he could pardon her for that. Her best friend. She didn’t even know if she was still best friends with Alina. She hadn’t spoken to her since the 26th. She didn’t know what to say. She had never registered or pondered about Alina’s faith before. And now she was being bombarded with information about Islam. She couldn’t understand how to place Alina in this new context. She could feel a distance forming subconsciously. She had even harboured a terrible thought when she remembered that Alina’s father was missing that day. She dismissed that thought soon enough because even with the new information, she could not think so terribly of her best friend’s family.

Shruti’s father had banned her from watching the prime time news after the anchor had given a very graphic account of the attack. However, Shruti was adamant, and she would creak open her room door just a little bit to be able to watch it from the narrow opening.

“Terrorists had sexually assaulted guests before killing them,” the anchor was saying. “CCTV footage shows some guests lying naked. This brings back the horrific memories of rape by Pakistanis during partition”, he provoked.

Rape. Shruti had vaguely heard this word but never knew what it meant. From what the anchor was saying, the definition she could arrive at was that rape was when a Muslim man asks a Hindu woman to remove her clothes. What if this happened to her? She looked at herself in the mirror. She would agree to going nude, she decided. This was better than being killed. She had a nightmare that night in which some men had entered her school. They were asking girls to go nude. She started murmuring some lines in Urdu, and they let her go. Someone else got very scared and started chanting the Gayatri mantra. She was killed on the spot.

These nightmares were recurring. Shruti wanted to talk to someone, but her parents were already worried. Her friends had just as much half-baked information as she did. Teachers in her school were only praying and holding special assemblies to mourn the event. No one gave the children an adequate explanation, and in the absence of knowledge, they came to the simplest conclusions that their minds could concoct.

When classes restarted, there was an uneasy sentiment in the air. New rules had been set up. Students could only use the school bus. No parent or guardian was allowed to enter the school. Bus routes would be tracked. School bags were being checked. The principal kept reminding students to be alert and report any unidentified bag or suspicious behaviour. Children looked at every stranger with worry; the default had become to assume a person is bad. A girl in the 9th grade had even lost her parents in the attack. This had shaken everyone to the core.

During the break on their first day back, Alina walked up to Shruti and asked her why she hadn’t called her all week. “Oh, nothing, I didn’t get the time,” Shruti said and smiled.

“How are you feeling about all this? Did you hear about Ruhika from 9th grade who lost her parents? It is so sad I couldn’t stop thinking about it”, Alina said.

“Yeah, I cannot believe what kind of humans could carry out such an attack. They are all monsters. Trained to be monsters”, Shruti said with unexpected aggression. Her eyes met Alina’s when she used the word “monsters,” and she saw Alina’s face shrink.

Suddenly they saw Naina Singh walking up to them.

“Hey Shruti, do you want to sit with us for lunch today?” Naina asked.

Shruti felt a tug in her chest. Her heart twisted.

“Yes, sure,” Shruti replied.

Naina walked away with a smile. “My mom told me to ask her,” she said to her friends loud enough for Shruti and Alina to hear.

“Is that okay?” Shruti asked Alina.

“I have football practice anyway. Let’s hang tomorrow,” Alina said, looking at her feet.

‘Tomorrow’ never came. The best friends parted ways without saying anything but saying enough at the same time.