Au Contraire, Mademoiselle!

By I Mirajkar

The story is merely an allegory to the protagonist's battle with life in an attempt to establish her own unique sense of being and existing in the world as we know it! The world is a mere observer to the protagonist's valiant attempts at conquering herself even as it judges and is forced to participate, albeit reluctantly. As the lotus tries to bloom in the quagmire of life, the world decides to call it a '#lousylotus' for daring to bloom...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frontier India
• Release date: Jul 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781642492187

Book preview

PART I

How It All Began…

Chapter 1

It was during one of her childhood vacations that she had a chance to visit The Small Town tucked far away in a corner of a fairly prosperous State. The town was shielded from all urban intrusions, thereby, retaining its identity of a vast historical significance, starkly, juxtaposed against the simplicity of the rest of the town. It was one of the princely states belonging to the timelessness of the Golden Era in history. Stories abounded of brave Queens and Kings who had ruled from one of the many palaces the town was blessed with. However, the historical ruins themselves interested her more than the stories of Queens and Kings. She loved wandering about the ruins, exploring in solitude, her mind filled with fantasies as she transported herself back in time.

Emerging from one such fantasy into the present, she found the transition to be smooth; nothing too contemporary or casually disrespectful jarred the memories of a bygone era. She breathed in the heady aroma of leafy green trees towering over single-storey structures built out of brick and cement; the verdant foliage was in evidence everywhere. The resplendent art, culture and the candour of the people (even though she did not speak their language) made her feel as if she had been waiting, all her life, to finally arrive home. The historical buildings looming out of nowhere added the intrigue she needed. Just imagine, a palace had been converted into the University campus! She promised herself that she would return one day to pursue her education here, in a palace, no less!

So, here she was, she had finally arrived. The proverbial big city girl in a small town, who was delighted to be there.

She looked derelict and lost as she emerged from the train station carrying her luggage; a frail-looking girl with untamed hair, wearing jeans and a khadi kurta paired with bathroom slippers. She looked around languidly for means of transportation, and finally hailed an auto to her destination – the University Campus Hostel for girls.

Disembarking in front of an imposing looking building, as she paid the auto driver, she stood still for a moment, imbibing the ‘sterile-looking white-coloured two-storey hostel building’ nestled within a verdantly vibrant canopy of gulmohar trees surrounding it. The windows and balconies were covered in wire mesh, making it appear like a fortressed prison, more than a ‘home away from home’. Shaking off a feeling of foreboding, she picked up her bags and climbed the tiny four steps up to a welcoming veranda inside. Walking confidently down a corridor, up a staircase, she easily located the room on the upper floor without encountering another human presence. So much for the fortress look! The admission letter had mentioned the room number allotted and since all rooms were marked with numbers, it didn’t require any great detection skills on her part to simply follow them till she found her room. Finding the door ajar, she went right in and flopped down on the single bed in tired exhaustion, as she surveyed the room. The room appeared to be newly painted in white. How very sterile, she thought to herself. It was the associations with the colour white that made her immediately think ‘sterile’! Otherwise, the room was not very neat or tidy. Getting up, she threw her paltry belongings in the cupboard, and without bothering to lock her room, she made her way straight to the faculty.

It was a short pleasant walk through a football field and crossing the road she arrived at the faculty. It was a rather unpretentious, yellow, two-storey brick building surrounded by greenery on all sides. She sauntered in, ignoring the humdrum of people around her, and walked up the stairs towards the classroom on the first floor. Again, the extensive labelling of rooms/areas and placards positioned conveniently around, for the first day of college, made it easy for her or anyone else to find what they were looking for.

The corridor outside the classroom was a balcony with a broad ledge one could sit on, and so she did. Perched on the ledge, one leg dangling down lifelessly as the other casually supported her arm, she contemplated lighting up a cigarette. To light or not — now that was The Question! As she pondered, deep in thought, she felt very relaxed and comfortable in her precarious position; by being stationary, she was one with her surroundings.

Suddenly, he became aware of her somewhat precarious existence, on the ledge! To him, she appeared to be voluntarily falling off and he had to consciously stop himself from rushing over to save her by pulling her into his outstretched arms. Her relaxed stance, existing defiantly on the edge of the ledge, had him mesmerised!

She looked completely out of sync against the backdrop of a sea of people moving to and fro, ceaselessly chatting, while she sat there, like a statue, alone and contemplative. Her compatriots were smartly-clad in the latest fashion of the season, in honour of the first day of college life. The freedom to dress as they pleased signified the release from the constricting limitations and discipline of school uniforms.

He wondered what she was thinking as she sat there, alone, but not lonely, perched confidently on the ledge of the building as if she was a part of the architecture, a floral relief adorning the pillar. Her self-enforced isolation and detached indifference to her surroundings intrigued him greatly.

She was blissfully disregarding her surroundings, especially the people within it. Her studied indifference towards everyone, as they trooped past her into the class, made her stand apart more. Forget the corridor, she seemed to own the whole damn building! As he passed her, he felt an irresistible urge to push her off the ledge, if only to get a reaction from her. However, he controlled the impulse as he calmly walked past her into the classroom.

She saw the class slowly fill up with students, as the corridor became bereft of humanity, except her. Deciding on a late entry, just for the heck of it, she continued to stare serenely down the corridor expecting the professor to appear magically at the head of the stairs on the far end. She had observed all the people entering the corridor from that end and was confident in her prediction of magical appearances, when a slightly uncertain voice whispered close to her from behind, Please get off the parapet! This kind of behaviour is not welcome in our faculty or city!

She was startled out of her skin, almost falling off the ledge, as she abruptly turned to face the sound. Noticing a rather timid-looking diminutive old lady addressing her, she hurriedly got down trying to hide her surprise. The sartorial appearance and age pointed towards the lady in question being the professor. Did she detect a note of plea in the lady’s voice? Deciding she did, she quickly said, Sorry, and promptly sat down on the floor, opened an imaginary book and pretended to read.

The professor, even more uncertainly now, cleared her throat loudly before beseechingly whispering again, The class is inside, please come in. You can’t sit on the floor in the corridor; it is not allowed.

She looked up askance at the professor, there were a lot of things that were ‘not being allowed’ from the word go! However, the professor did say ‘please’, which couldn’t be ignored so she got up, and apologised to her again, as they entered the class together.

The entire class had witnessed the proceedings between the two from the windows overlooking the corridor. For those students sitting right next to the window, it had been like watching the first day, first show of the latest blockbuster movie. They all stared at her in wondrous amazement as she entered with the professor, walked towards the last bench and sat down with a sense of accomplishment, ignoring the stares from her classmates.

Once settled, she cast a slow lazy look around the small classroom, noticing the walls, the desks, and the old-fashioned blackboard, before finally zeroing in on the professor who stood uncertainly at her desk. She paid no attention to the rest of the people in the room.

Just as well, she thought, she hadn’t lit up a thunderstorm! She could well imagine the reactions to a girl smoking openly in a place like this; her mere appearance was drawing inquisitive glances. The thought made her smile some more. Oh! She was going to have so much fun here, she decided, as the professor called attention to the start of the first day of college life.

The professor first introduced herself, then the subject, followed by her experience and expertise, in that order.

The whispers and murmurs died down as the students began to pay attention to the professor, eager to learn more about her and the course they had enrolled for. She too appeared captivated by the professor’s speech, an expression of active listening fixed on her face.

The professor ended her speech with, And now that you are in college, you have to respect your freedom and act responsibly, looking straight at her.

She smiled back an acknowledgement, wondering if one could ask questions after an introduction from the professor; after all, some things needed to change in college!

The professor continued, Now everyone please give your introduction briefly.

The first person introduced herself with her name, followed by the school name and everyone copied the same pattern.

The school names slowly divided the class, literally, into a room full of divisions, as each took note of the students from elite schools. Everyone used English as the preferred language for the introductions; the medium of instruction for the course was English after all!

The elitist notion became more pronounced when the so-called non-elite school students left out their school’s name from the introductions and ‘hacked’ their way through the English language, barely making it through. There were audible snickers as the vernacular, non-elitist students introduced themselves. She noticed it all, ruing the fact that there was no escape from the hypocrisy of snobbery anywhere in the world. If possible, it was even more pronounced in The Small Town than The Big City whence she came from!

A bit later, one person, who happened to belong to the male gender, got up and started introducing himself in the vernacular, whilst feebly attempting a gallant effort at some pallid humour.

"eSa vfHkuo 'kekZ gw¡ vkSj eSusa viuh 12oha d{kk dh i<+kbZ gekjs xk¡o ds loksZn; mPp dU;k egkf|ky; ls djh gSa! gk¡] eSa ,d yM+dk gw¡ vkSj eq>s yM+fd;ksa ds fo|ky; esa i<+us dk ekSdk feyk] tks eq>s cgqr vPNk yxk] vkSj eSaus ogk¡ i<+kbZ dh ij ,d yM+dh esjs ls vkxs fudy xbZ

¹ (I am Abhinav Sharma, and I studied in a girl’s school called Sarvoday Uccha Kanya Mahavidyalay. Yes, I am a boy and I enjoyed studying in a girl’s school very much, and I mean, I really studied! But one girl got the better of me, and she did better than me in studies and exams)!"

There was a pregnant pause as he finished saying this on a note of proud confidence. Then he laughed, primarily, to pre-empt the expected snickers from his classmates at the fact that he had studied in an all-girls’ school.

The class hesitated before joining in his laughter; albeit uncomfortably, as everybody wondered what or whom the joke, if at all it was one, was on!

And then continuing in impeccable English, Abhinav said, And yes, I am proud of my school, my heritage and my village! My father is a simple, illiterate, small-time farmer and I am extremely proud to be his son. He then sat down as he finished talking, with a haughty air about him that brooked no retort.

There was a palpable and uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then the rest of the class finished giving their introductions.

She too stood up to introduce herself, only giving her name and city, leaving it at that. She didn’t come from an elite school or neighbourhood either. But perhaps, they didn’t realise that.

Almost everyone was local, except her. She was the outsider, the unknown entity.

The way the class was gawking at her, she was beginning to feel like an alien from outer space. She smiled contentedly, taking refuge in her relative anonymity and enjoying all the attention being thrown her way.

The professor then began her discourse on the actual subject to be taught and droned on with her notes, barely looking up or seeking any response from the students.

The class was consequently free to divide its attention between the professor’s lecture on the one hand, and observing her furtively, on the other. Frankly, they had never seen anyone like her. This girl had appeared from nowhere and they were all interested in her; for she was an unknown entity, and a mysterious one at that! She was an outsider whom no one knew and she had made no overtures to befriend anybody, on the contrary, she had maintained her isolation with a quiet confidence, almost shunning them. And to top it all, she had engaged in a battle of wits with the professor! Who in their right mind was likely to do that on the first day of college? Huh? Thus, was the line of thinking her compatriots were taking.

The class divided its attention between her and the professor, studiously making notes in their ‘long copy’ to demonstrate their attention towards the pedantic ramblings of the professor, and occasionally turning back to furtively gape at her sitting calmly on the last bench. One by one, they had all turned back to look at her.

The bell rang with a loud clamour, announcing the dismissal of the period.

With a sigh of relief, the students gathered their belongings, getting up to leave, yawning and stretching, fooling around with each other as the professor left the class. Watching the others leave the classroom, she made no attempt to join them. She was glad when the cacophony of voices died down, leaving her with the blessed silence of her solitude. They were all headed this way or that, full of purpose. Left or right, she thought in amusement, as they marched out with many a backward glance thrown at her curiously. She appeared comfortable, sitting alone, in the empty classroom.

No one had attempted to befriend her as they went their predestined ways. Just as well, she thought, leave me alone and dispense with the idle chit-chat. It suited her well.

Was she the only rational one in the room? The thought brought a sparkle to her eyes, as her laughter filled the empty room.

Absent-mindedly twirling a pencil between her fingers, she thought of the guy in vernacular who had made quite an impression on the class. She wondered at the insecurities that had made him divulge more information than necessary, impulsively deciding to call him ‘AS’, short for Abhinav Sharma. Then, for the sake of phonetic integrity, added another ‘S’ to make it a complete and easily pronounceable name, ASS, laughing at the unfortunate acronym!

1 The Hindi used in this novel is not at all the chaste text book language; it is a variation of the Hindi language as per the intention and regional variation of speech that the person using it is speaking. It may denote dialect differences, as well as, variations in use of Hindi slang as per the character and sociolinguistic preference of that character.

Chapter 2

Finally making her way to the canteen (she really needed to smoke), she wondered a tad arrogantly if any of her classmates had ever ventured beyond the comforts of the city they were living in. Almost immediately she concluded that they would probably continue living there till death rendered them redundant. It was harsh, but true, she surmised disdainfully. Her fellow students had most likely joined this stream of study out of a lack of choice or a false aura of status and privilege that was associated with their ‘choice’. Her contemptuous conclusions were closer to the truth than you would want to believe.

Well, she had ‘chosen’ The Small Town to further her educational goals. It was a conscious decision on her part in rejecting the big city institutions to favour this one in particular. Out of the many reasons for choosing this place, the foremost had been an impulsive one — the distances would be commutable by walking. And of course, who wouldn’t want to study in a palace as opposed to anything else!

While the others’ fate was sealed, hers was a destiny she chose to carve for herself.

And she was not very far off the mark, mind you! If you were to visit The Small Town today, you would find most of her classmates happily growing old together, comfortable in their anonymous existence, and leading remarkably similar lives to their college day pathos.

Except for some of the girls who may have moved across cities or countries due to marriage to a man who did! Women followed men, it was the unspoken rule. Merely considered as collateral damage of belonging to the female gender, it was expected of the woman, irrespective of her desires and ambitions. This is the ‘patriarchal default’ wherein the woman is expected to make all the necessary ‘sacrifices’, adjustments and compromises to make life comfortable for men. A woman’s choice is always questioned, negotiated and debated, a man’s never.

She conceded that men may also relocate to another city or country, however, the primary reason in such cases were occupational needs. It is a given that as a breadwinner and head of the family, a man’s job, needs and desires reign supreme. Women on the other hand, are viewed as homemakers and any income that they may earn, from whatever resource, is secondary to that of the man.

This may sound infuriatingly opinionated; nevertheless, it is the prevailing truth, whether you accept or reject it.

Letting go of that depressingly debatable chain of thought, she focused her attention to the present, her classmates, the institution of learning, the surroundings…drat it, she had worked herself up and desperately needed a smoke to calm herself down. A light, as in a lighter or matchbox, was required for her to be able to light up a cigarette and smoke to her heart’s content. Briskly walking in the general direction of where she had observed everybody go, she finally felt reassured of humanity’s existence when the buzz of conversations reached her ears. She would get the light for the cigarette now.

The monologue going on in her head finally ended, redirected by the audible sounds of people chatting happily amongst themselves.

She wanted to avoid them, the people, as she considered them to be outsiders who were not worthy of her time or effort. She was sure the feeling was mutually reciprocated. For one, she would never ask them the usual set of questions the world considered normal and necessary for introductions.

On the other hand, her aloofness had prevented them from striking up a conversation with her, so they had avoided her and concluded that she was not a very friendly sort of person. It was mutually beneficial to politely ignore each other’s existence.

Chapter 3

Finally she arrived at the canteen, stopping midstep abruptly, as a cacophony of sounds assailed her senses. The sound levels of conversations appeared to be deafening, people were literally shouting to be heard! The small room, operating as the canteen, seemed to be defiantly increasing and echoing the decibel levels of conversations. It was all too much for her to take; it was loud, stuffy and overcrowded for her comfort. Looking outside, she spied the well-shaded cycle stand where the guys were sitting and chatting amiably among themselves.

Noticing that there were no girls at the cycle stand, she quickly peeped in to confirm her corresponding assumption; yes indeed, there were only two guys inside the canteen.

Beyond the usual gender segregation, she observed that her classmates were further divided by social status and caste. One could make out from the way they were dressed and conversed, similarities of neighbourhoods, religion, political affinities, socio-economic status, etc. played an important role in forming lifelong friendships! She had often wondered at the concept of these lifelong associations; the rationale and the need for such associations called friendships were beyond her! As far as she was concerned, life and friendships were mutually inclusive, no variables affected these associations. One did not start out with a motive or intent; one simply accepted the reality of another.

She demarcated the groups into two categories, ‘the haves’ and ‘the have-nots’, choosing to ignore the gender variable for now, although strictly speaking, she could club the female gender with ‘the have-nots’. The former represented those born with a silver spoon and the latter represented those that had to struggle and defy unsurmountable odds just to be born.

‘The haves’ belonged to the elite schools and neighbourhoods. They would have every opportunity thrown at them, while ‘the have-nots’ fell into the category of those persons whose current endeavours, at an education, would be forgotten even as they were happening. ‘The haves’ would make memories and ‘the have-nots’ would constantly struggle to make ends meet even as their fundamental rights were continuously challenged at each step!

Well, such was life, hard and bitter!

She couldn’t possibly sit inside with the girls and all that noise. Their consciously responsible and attentive manner of ‘always be prepared’ grated on her nerves.

The cycle stand, shaded by a canopy of leafy trees’ attracted her, plus, the guys would have the light for her cigarette. She sauntered towards them, casually wondering what would happen if the women were sitting outside doing what the men were doing.

Noticing ASS sitting there, though he was not smoking, she veered away from him. He appeared to be involved in some kind of an animated discussion with the others’ from ‘the have-not’ group. His fate, she mused, in a somewhat callous manner, was destined to be with ‘the have-nots’, irrespective of the fact of whether he was one or not!

She sat down on the cycle stand, a little away from the rest, and fishing out a cigarette, asked one of the guys closer to her for a light. The guy jumped up in earnest and striking a match held it close to the cigarette between her fingers, looking at her in bewildered amazement. Bending forward, she drew in a deep drag, thanking the guy as she released the smoke with a sense of immense relief. The guy offering her the light looked away, suddenly embarrassed, while the others stared at her in shock. Thoroughly enjoying the attention coming her way, she marvelled at the sudden silence that ensued. The others had never seen a woman in flesh and blood smoke a cigarette with the nonchalance and savoir-faire that she displayed. The silence was quickly followed by a loud clamour of voices.

She continued enjoying her smoke in silence, stubbing out the cigarette when it was over. Getting up, she threw the butt in a dustbin along the way and walked back, ignoring everyone and everything.

The others observed her self-assured ways with envy and a grudging admiration; they had never encountered someone, an outsider, who exuded confidence the way she did.

When they saw her approach a guy and light up, ‘The Judgement’, was passed!

Look at the arrogance of this girl! remarked Kavita to her friends, Who does she think she is?!

Yeah, Pratik, who was sitting inside with the girls, replied, A girl, smoking so openly! What is the world coming to?

ASS was following her in, and hearing their retorts, casually interjected, "What do you mean? Come to my village, all the old ladies have a merry time smoking hookah or bidis!"

Pratik angrily retorted, Yeah, I am sure they do, in your godforsaken village!

Sunita joined in, Slut she is! Look at the way she is dressed!!! Who wears bathroom slippers to college?!

Maybe she has run away from home and come here, you know, love trouble! Pratik tried to explain, sounding worldly wise.

And how do you know? asked Kavita, astonished at the conjecture drawn.

Sunita responded by referring to the latest movie wherein the heroine runs away to a small town to meet and be with her love interest pretending to be poor because he is.

Oh! said Kavita, I haven’t seen the movie. We must go after college today.

The newspaper was brought in and show timings were discussed, everybody’s availability ascertained and the plan finalised.

These were some of ‘the haves’.

Just as they passed judgement on her, she judged them too, they were all put under one label, ‘the confirming stereotypes’ and she had no problem with that. To each his/her own, she respected it from afar and kept her distance.

Soon, the usual college cliques developed and flourished.

Interestingly and predictably, the have-nots were exclusively guys who had banded together in one corner of the canteen. Finishing their tea-samosa, they went out to the cycle stand smoking and trying hard to look nonchalant in their relative anonymity. None of the other classmates had made an effort to befriend them and make them feel inclusive, especially the girls. No one was interested to know who they were or what they were talking about, they were like pieces of furniture; old and worn out furniture that nobody wanted.

The concept of untouchability lived on, long after it was supposedly dead.

A peek, a small simple peek, would have revealed that their tastes were not very different from the haves! The have-nots were simply not equipped with the tools necessary to get in with the ‘happening’ crowd!

And peace and justice to all! she muttered under her breath, ambling over to the have-nots the next day. She decided to treat them like pieces of precious antique furniture that needed to be restored very delicately.

Going straight towards ASS, she casually put an arm across his shoulders saying, "vkSj rq>s D;k gks x;k Fkk\ (Heyyyy, what got into you?) What was that speech all about? ----------eSa------- (I am so and so…)," laughing cheerfully.

ASS turned around in shock, as everybody jumped out of their skin, thanks to her confident intrusion; for intrusion it was! You could have heard a pin-drop, had it been dropped!

Looking at their thunderstruck expressions, she proceeded to fish out a cigarette asking for a light and added for good measure, Who, among you, has seen women smoke, excluding our buddy, Avinash Sharma here?

One or two guys raised their hands tentatively. Good, she remarked, Look across the road at the woman pushing the fruit cart. They did as directed. A woman was pushing a handcart loaded with fruits, smoking and yelling her fares.

Then, as a guy offered her a light, she said, You smoke. I smoke. She/he smokes. Some human beings choose to smoke, end of story.

It sort of put them at ease with her, after all, she appeared to be easy to talk to and she had chosen them. No one had ever ‘chosen’ them!

One of guys shared hesitantly, We thought you have come to beat us up! trying hard to make it sound funny! She smiled at this, "Oh yes! I am capable of beating up a guy, provided