The doors to the teacher’s lounge were almost entirely shut except for a tiny sliver of an opening. Behind that opening, Eklavya, coiling his body into the smallest shape possible, sat with bated breath and listened.
Four men were inside. Three of them were standing, with one seated on the sofa. Those three men had been yelling at the lone seated man, the only one whom Eklavya recognised. It was his class teacher and mentor, Dronacharya. He had no idea who the other three men were, but he had heard his name, and curiosity had got the better of him. So now, he hid and listened.
“I don’t understand what’s going through your head, Drona,” one of them, the tallest one, shouted. “How could you nominate that villager (what’s his name? Eklavya?) for the Excellency Award?”
Drona, who sat with his head hung low, raised it a bit and tried to reply, but before he could, the second, more heavyset man chimed in and said “There’s really nothing you can say to convince us.” His tone was a bit softer but still dripping with venom. “So, the kid scores high. So what?”
He let out a laugh that made his whole midsection jiggle. And continued:
“Every class has some students who score high. But the Excellency Award is for those who deserve it.”
The third man, who was the leanest of the bunch, walked off to the window, behind the sofa, and said nothing. The first man walked towards Dronacharya until his face was directly above him, and shouted, “Explain yourself, you numbskull!”
Dronacharya looked up but found himself unable to match the tall man’s gaze. He shifted his eyes sideways and muttered.
The tall man leaned closer to Dronacharya, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him. “Look me in the eyes and talk to me.”
After the tall one stopped, Dronacharya steadied himself and said, louder, “The boy is a genius. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Eklavya felt a warm sensation burning his cheeks.
Dronacharya stood up and started walking around. “I don’t know what else to tell you three,” he continued. “The boy is an actual genius. No matter the subject, he manages to score high. And it’s not just that, he understands them. He truly understands everything he is taught at such a deep level that you would be forgiven for thinking he is a Bachelor’s student or even a Graduate level student.”
The fat man let out another laugh that made his midsection jiggle. “So, he’s smart. Every class has smart students.”
Dronacharya sprinted across the room towards the fat man until their faces were inches apart. “Not like this,” he said. “Not like him.”
The fat man recoiled from Dronacharya’s closeness with great disgust. “Good heavens, man. Get a hold of yourself.”
“The Excellency Award,” the bewildered Dronacharya continued, “is for the student who is the most excellent, as the name suggests. And let me tell you, no other student in all my years of teaching has been as excellent as Eklavya. He’s not just smart. He grasps concepts his peers struggle with. He not only understands what he is being taught, but he makes connections through them and by doing so learns what is in the next chapter while being taught this chapter.”
He coughed. The continued.
“I reckon, if you just give him the book itself. Any textbook. He would be able to teach himself the concepts as well as or even better without the help of a teacher.”
There was a stunned silence in the room following Dronacharya’s outburst. No one made to say anything. Outside, Eklavya felt like he could cry.
Finally, the third, lean man cleared his throat and turned around. “If that’s the case,” he said. “Does Eklavya even need the Excellency Award?” He walked a few paces forward until his hands were on the sofa. He gripped it tight. “You’ve made it plenty clear that Eklavya is not only excellent but far above it. So, why should he be awarded it? Wouldn’t it be an insult?”
Dronacharya tried to speak but the lean man simply shushed him. He motioned the other two to come stand beside him. “I think we can all come to an agreement with that.” He looked, one by one, at the tall and fat man on his either side. They both nodded. The thin man continued, “Eklavya shall not get the Excellency Award because, as you’ve so passionately put, he is far beyond excellent. I think it should go to someone more deserving. Say, Arjun perhaps.”
“That’s not fair!”
Eklavya slammed the door open and shouted.
“Arjun is smart. And… and he is talented too, but I am the first in class. I’ve been the first in class for every single term and internal exam this year, since I transferred in. I don’t understand your logic but I understand that it’s not right.”
Dronacharya ran towards the boy and half tried to admonish and pacify him. “Boy, this is the teacher’s lounge. You need to leave at once. Please.”
The other three men turned towards Eklavya. The tall man’s face was red with anger, the fat man’s face was covered with a loud smile while the lean man stood composed and calm.
“Well,” he said, “The boy does make a case for himself but Eklavya, we cannot, we simply cannot, give you the Excellency Award.”
“Why?” the boy’s voice cracked and tears welled up under his eyes.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” the tall man said and threw his hands up in the air. He walked a couple steps towards Dronacharya and Eklavya. “I’ll be the bad guy here and say it clearly and plainly so your villager self can understand.”
A smile appeared on his face.
“You’re a scholarship student, boy. You’re someone the school plucked from your little village and gave a chance to study in this esteemed institution.”
The fat man appeared from behind him and continued, “The winner of the Excellency Award, dear boy, becomes the face of this institution and we simply cannot have someone of your, well, pedigree, represent our school. We cannot. We cannot.”
Eklavya, now tears streaming down his face, tried to muster up a response but before his thoughts could formulate, the third, lean man, turned up beside him and simply said, “You should be glad you’re allowed to be here. To study here. Don’t aim too high, Eklavya. Don’t aim too high.”
The boy could no longer hold it in. He fell to his knees and started crying. A sorry sight. Dronacharya had had enough and finally shouted back: “Listen, I get to vote someone for the award from my class. I will vote for Eklavya because he deserves it. He may not win. You’ve made it sure that he probably won’t win. But let me vote for him damn it.” Saying this, he sat down and said to Eklavya, “Listen, son. You are smart and talented. You are a genius. Don’t let these fools who don’t even deserve to be called ‘teachers’ tell you any different.”
“How dare you insult us, your peers, for this filthy villager?” The first one screamed.
“It seems like poor Drona has lost his mind,” the second one added.
“Is that your choice?” The third one questioned Dronacharya.
“Yes,” the teacher replied, his arm around Eklavya.
“Well, then,” the lean teacher bent towards Dronacharya. “I will make sure you will no longer have a job here. Maybe you can go back to the boy’s village.”
The three teachers turned to leave but then
“Wait,” Eklavya shouted from behind, sprinting after them. “You were right, sir,” he said to the third teacher. “I rose above my station. Please don’t hurt Drona sir.”
“Eklavya,” Drona pleaded. Eklavya turned towards him and smiled. “I want us both to remain at this school so I can learn more from you sir.” He then turned back towards the three teachers. “I know my place now. I’ll be quiet. I won’t make much noise. So please.”
The lean teacher walked a few steps before the two besides him and smiled. “Understood.” Then he turned and walked away.
The tall teacher smirked and the fat teacher howled. Then they too turned and followed the lean teacher.
Eklavya too turned and walked back to Dronacharya who was now crestfallen on the floor. He kept muttering apologies but Eklavya simply helped him get up and get back to his office, a sad blue fire burning in his stomach.