I opened the box of little pink ribbons that my students had made for everyone in the village. It made me chuckle to see them carefully pick the best ones for their parents and family. Anamika took one and rushed outside towards her Father, who was a newspaper vendor. He had tears in his eyes as his daughter carefully pinned the ribbon on his shirt. It made me feel all warm inside to think that I had bettered the lives of so many families.

"Masterni Ji, mujhe aapko deni hai!" One of the boys grinned at me with twinkling eyes.

(Masterni Ji, even I want to pin the ribbon on you!)

"Nahi mujhe deni hai!" Another girl argued with him.

(No, it's my turn!)

"Meri Didi hai," Saarang announced proudly and pushed them all aside before pinning the ribbon on my sari. "Maine yeh sirf aapke liye banayi hai," my little brother whispered, his cheeks a little flushed as he refused to meet my eyes. I smiled, tears in my eyes. He was almost thirteen now, looking so grown up and I loved him oh so dearly.

(She's my sister. I made this just for you.)

Today was the fifth anniversary of Bhairav Chaudhary Memorial Vidyalaya. We hadn't been able to celebrate it properly before, considering my Husband's absence. After I became pregnant with Arnav, even I couldn't dedicate much time to it now. But now my kids were a little older. Janaki and Raghav were almost seven, and Arnav, my youngest baby, would turn three in a few months. Besides, the school was quite small back then. But today, almost all the villagers' kids were enrolled here.

There were a few cultural events scheduled as well, so after collecting the ribbons, all the kids ran outside. If I remembered correctly, Raghu, Janu, Avi and Rekha were already at a puppet show that the senior kids were organising. Eventually the classroom was empty, and I counted the remaining ribbons.

"Bahu."

I looked up in surprise. Maa stood at the door with Bhairav Ji right behind her. "Maa, aap aa gaye!" I grinned, leading her inside. She looked at the ribbons in fascination. "Yeh sab bachon ne banayi hai?" She asked as I pinned one on her sari. Even Bhairav Ji looked fairly impressed.

(Maa, you made it!)

(Did the children make these?)

"Ji haan... Mere bacho ne banayi hai," I remarked proudly, "Aradhya aur Payal kaha hai?" I asked. They had promised to come as well, and Keshav had reached the haveli yesterday evening for the Annual Day celebrations.

(Yes... My children made them all. Where's Aradhya and Payal?)

"Bahar kisi se baat kar rahe hain," Maa replied. "Bacche kathputli ka tamasha dekhne gaye hain kya?"

(They're talking to someone outside. Did the kids go for the puppet show?)

"Haan, aapko bhi waha le chalti hu," I smiled.

(Yes, I'll take you there as well.)

My husband was mostly quiet as he stared at the last ribbon in the box. "Aap bhi pehen lijiye. Aapke liye hai," I told him, pointing at it.

(You should wear the ribbon too.)

He looked at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Just as I feared, he said it in front of his mother, "Tum pehna do."

(Pin it for me.)

My cheeks flushed as I looked into his eyes, eventually looking away. Bhairav Ji didn't say anything as I picked the ribbon and pinned it on his chest quietly. Maa was watching us; she always was, and at this point she had given up trying to interfere, knowing her son would never change.

Bhairav Ji smelled nice today. Even his beard was trimmed neatly, and the scarf he wore made him look more handsome than usual.

"Kaisa dikh raha hai?" He asked as I patted his chest,

(How does it look?)

"Achi hai..." I smiled a little. How could I not when we were standing so close?

(You look nice...)

Maa cleared her throat, "Mujhe bacho ke paas le chalo."

(Take me to the children.)

"Ji," I fixed my veil and led her outside. Bhairav Ji stepped away to talk to a few villagers at the time. 

~-~-~

Bhairav's POV:

Keshav and I were talking to one of the village elders, who commended my efforts regarding the school. In all honesty, I had barely done anything. It was Sanjana who took care of the institution with a deep sense of responsibility and passion. I only taunted her when necessary to keep it up and take it to further heights.

"Maine toh bas imaarat khadi ki hai," I replied, "Vidyalay ke saari zimmedariya patni sambhal rahi hai. Mere na hone par bhi usne iski raunak kam nahi hone di."

(I merely built the school. My wife has taken care of all its responsibilities; even in my absence, she has never let its sparkle fade.)

The man laughed, "Baat toh sahi hai. Thakurain Ji ne bahut mehnet ki hai vidyalay ke liye. Mera beta aaj kavita pratiyogita mein sanchalan kar raha hai. Ab main use dekhne jaa rahi hoon. Namaste, Thakur Ji."

(That is true. Thakurain Ji has really worked hard for the school. My son is hosting the poetry competition today, so I am going to watch him. Namaste, Thakur Ji.)

"Namaste," I joined my hands respectfully.

Bhargav arrived on Keshav's bike at that time. He looked like he was in a hurry as he came to me. "Bhaiya," he spoke in hushed whispers, "Aaj shaam tak Sanchit aur uske Bhai gaon aayenge. Hume kya karna chahiye?"

(Bhaiya, Sanchit and his brothers will reach the village by evening. What should we do?)

A few boys came towards me with little clay tumblers. "Thakur Ji, aap nimbu paani lenge?" One of them asked with twinkling eyes. I nodded, and the two boys gave each of us a glass.

(Thakur Ji, would you like some lemonade?)

"Sheher se gaon tak ke raaste mein humare ladko ko khada kar do. Itni chinta kyu kar rahe ho?" I took a sip of the lemonade. It was made quite well.

(Line up our boys on the road that leads to the city. Why are you worrying so much?)

"Woh kitne log hai... Hume pata nahi hai, Bhaiya..." Bhargav gulped.

(But we don't know how many of them are coming, Bhaiya...)

"Phir kisi ko sheher bhej do jaankaari ikhatta karne keliye," I glared, "Aaj sabka dhyaan vidyalay par hoga. Ladaai ko yahan se jitna door le jaa sako, le jaana. Maine bas Maa aur Sanjana ko itna kaha hai ki dopahar ke khaane ke baad mujhe ek zaroori kaam se baahar jaana hai. Isse raat ke khaane tak mat kheenchna... warna mujhe tumhari kaabiliyat par shaq hone lagega."

(Then send someone to the city to get details. Everyone is going to be focused on the school today. Take the fight as far away from here as possible. I've only told Maa and Sanjana that I need to step away for some urgent business after lunch. Don't drag this on until dinner... Otherwise I might start doubting your competence.)

Bhargav stared at me, still unsure. He sipped the drink nervously. Sanchit was one of the thugs that a few competitors of ours had hired. They were city boys, raised and bred there without ever facing real trials. It wasn't like that in our village. Everyone struggled one way or the other, and that gave us the upper hand easily.

"Aap phir se kuch khatarnak kar rahe hai, Bhaiya?" Keshav asked me in concern.

(Are you doing something dangerous again, Bhaiya?)

I scoffed. Dangerous? This was like taking candy from a child.

"Thakur Ji?"

It was a young voice, and I turned to face the boy carrying the jug of lemonade. Only now had I noticed him. "Kya aapko main yaad hoon?" The boy asked. Even Bhargav and Keshav were confused as to who the kid was.

(Do you remember me?)

"Vimal... Yaad kaise nahi rahega," I replied, sipping the drink.

(Vimal... How can I forget?)

His teenage eyes twinkled because I had remembered his name. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, "Aaj shaam ko main aapki madad kar sakta hu. Main ab taiyar hu, Thakur Ji."

(I can help you in the evening if you like. I'm ready now, Thakur Ji.)

If I remembered, the boy was only sixteen now. A year since I had met him. He didn't have a Father, and his old mother worked in my fields to make a living. The boy had come to me himself for a job, because he claimed to be just as capable as my men, or even better than them. I had seen him drink and smoke with a few other spoiled brats his age.

But one day his mother came to me after knowing I was his role model. She cried quite a lot that day and told me how her son never listened to him. He used to steal her money to buy whiskey and cigarettes, and since I seemed to be the only one he respected, she wanted me to ask him to go to school. I distinctly remembered that day.

Even though I was a well-known bastard, I'd never disrespect a mother.

Afterwards, I asked one of my men to ask Vimal to meet me. He had come in a hurry. His young eyes were excited and impatient to enter the world of adults. Kids truly thought that it was all sparkly.

"Aapne mujhe bulaya, Thakur Ji?" Vimal grinned.

(You wanted to meet me, Thakur Ji?)

His eyes were trembling with excitement, and I offered him a seat opposite mine. He gulped as I poured him a glass of whiskey.

"Pee lo," I told him when he hesitated. The boy eagerly gulped it down completely. He was smiling now, confident that I had accepted him as one of my own. I extended him a cigarette as well, and lit it for him.

(Have a drink.)

"Kya main kal se kaam shuru kar sakta hu?" The boy asked arrogantly.

(Can I start working from tomorrow?)

I smiled at this. My men in the room laughed at his words, and the boy suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

"Kabhi vidyalay gaye ho?" I asked.

(Have you ever gone to school?)

Vimal gulped, "Nahi... Par... Malik mujhe padhna likha aata hai."

(No but... I know to read and write.)

"Padhna likhna toh mere char saal ke bete ko bhi aata hai," I scoffed. My men laughed even more, and I gave them a look to stop putting salt on Vimal's wounds.

(Even my four year old son knows to read and write.)

"Kal se kaam shuru kar sakte ho," I leaned forward, "Vidyalay jaane ka kaam. Tumhari Maa ki tankhwaah se vidyalay ki kharcha kaat lunga. Phir jab tum taiyaar ho jaoge, tab tumhe shehar mein meri kaarkhaane mein kaam karne bhej dunga."

(You can start working from tomorrow. Start working hard at school. I'll take the school fees from your mother's salary. Then when you're ready, I'll send you to my factory in the city for work.)

Vimal looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Aur main kab tak taiyar ho jaunga?"

(And when will I be ready?)

"Woh meri marzi hai," I replied, pouring myself a glass of whiskey, "Aur yeh tumhari aakhri daru aur cigarette hai. Aaj se kabhi sharaab chune ki koshish ki toh haath kaat kar gaon ke bahar phek dunga, samjhe? Agar mujhe malik samajhte ho toh meri saari baatein maanne keliye taiyar ho jao."

(That will be my decision. And by the way, this is your last drink and cigarette. If you touch whiskey after today, then I'll cut off your hands and throw you out of my village, got it? If you accept me as your boss, then you'll have to obey every word I say.)

Vimal's eyes were now truly wide with fear. I smiled.

"Tumhari padhai kaisi chal rahi hai?" I asked. He looked annoyed that I had ignored his wish to help me in the evening.

(How are your studies going?)

"Chal rahi hai... Main kya ab bhi taiyar nahi hoon?" He asked impatiently. The only reason I was still putting up with his tantrums was that he was a kid. And kids were meant to enjoy their time in school until they faced the harsh reality of the outside world.

(It's okay... Am I still not ready?)

"Arey, aap ab bhi yahi hai!" It was Sanjana's voice, and I turned to find my little squirrel looking as excited as ever. Her beautiful eyes were sparkling as she pouted at me, "Kitni der se intezar kar rahi hu. Bachche kitna sundar pradarshan kar rahe hain. Chaliye mere saath!" She grinned before turning to Keshav and Bhargav, "Aradhya aur Payal bhi aap dono ka intezaar kar rahi hain."

(Arey, you're still here! I've been waiting so long for you. The kids are performing so beautifully. Come with me. Aradhya and Payal are waiting for you both as well...)

Bhargav left us behind and walked ahead at the mention of Aradhya. I gave Keshav a nod, "Tum aage chalo, main aata hoon." Sanjana pouted again, "Abhi aaiye." She held my hand.

(Go ahead, I'll join you in a bit.)

(No, come right now.)

"Aa jaunga, meri maa... Tum jao," I sighed, but she refused to move. "Aapke saath chalungi."

(I will, my dear... Go ahead.)

(I'll only go with you.)

I turned to Vimal again, and Sanjana only seemed to notice him now. "Ab jab tum aa hi gayi ho, yeh bhi batao... padhai mai yeh kaisa kar raha hai?"

(Since you're here already, tell me how he's doing in class.)

The boy swallowed nervously. Sanjana knew about the boy's background and why he was at school. In fact, he was probably the oldest kid that she taught. "Kaisi baatein kar rahe hain?" My wife sighed, "Aaj ke din toh bacho se padhai ke baare mein mat pucho. Beta tumhari Maa nahi aayi aaj?"

(What are you saying? At least today don't ask the kids about their studies. Beta, didn't your mother come?)

Vimal looked a little relieved, "Er... Nahi... Thakurain Ji... Maa kaam mei vyasth hai shayad..."

(Er... No... Thakurain Ji... Maa is busy with work I think...)

"Par aaj toh chutti hai," I commented. His face paled as he thought of another lie. "Tumne Maa ko bataya tha?" I prodded him again.

(But today is a holiday for her. Did you even tell her?)

"Haa," the boy finally lost his patience, "Woh aana nahi chahti thi."

(Yes. She didn't want to come.)

He was staring down now. That was clearly a lie, because I knew he hadn't told his Mother. The little bastard was still so ungrateful. He wouldn't realise all the sacrifices she made for him until he didn't have her anymore.

"Koi baat nahi," Sanjana smiled at him softly, "Tum bhi apne dosto ke saath jaakar kathputliyo ko dekh lo beta. Jao."

(It's okay. Go with your friends and watch the puppet show, beta.)

Vimal nodded. He gave me a strange glare before running off. "Aap use itna pareshan kyu kar rahe ho? Bacha hai... Use padhne mein koi dilchaspi nahi hai... Phir bhi vidyalay aata rehta hai..." Sanjana sighed.

(Why are you bothering him so much? He's just a kid... He doesn't like to study... But still he comes to school everyday...)

"Padhne mein dilchaspi aane tak woh vidyalay mein hi rahega," I replied as we walked towards the small stage where the puppet show was happening.

(Until he becomes interested in studies, he'll remain in school.)

"Aap padhai ke baare mei itne pagal kyu ho?" She asked, her voice a whisper. It almost felt like she was trying to find answers for why I had never allowed her to rest easy as a teenager. I smiled at the question.

(Why are you so obsessed with studies?)

"Baat sirf padhai ki nahi hai, meri gilehri." I replied, "Vidyalay ek bachche ke charitra ka nirmaan bhi karta hai. Jab kisi bachche ko sahara dene wala mahaul milta hai, tab uski poori zindagi ki disha badal sakti hai."

(It isn't just about studies, my little squirrel. School builds a child's entire character. When a child finds someone who will support him, that can change the whole trajectory of his life.)

Sanjana looked impressed at my words, "Isliye aap mujhe bachpan mein utna tang karte the...?"

(Is that why you were bothering me so much while I was young...?)

"Agar maine woh na kiya hota, toh tum aaj itni aage kabhi na badh paati, Masterni Ji. Shukr mano ki maine tumhe seedha kar diya."

(If I hadn't done that at that time, you wouldn't have gotten this far today, Masterni Ji. Be grateful that I straightened you out.)

Her cheeks flushed as she glared at me, "Mere andar pehle se koi kami hi nahi thi! Aap kitne zaalim hain!"

(There was nothing wrong with me to begin with! You are so cruel!)

"Haan haan..." I smiled to myself.

(Of course...)

She didn't talk to me till we reached the stage, but she sat next to me during the performance. It gave me the chance to brush against her accidentally countless times. Even though Sanjana was mad at me, I never failed to make her blush. She'd always remain my precious little squirrel.