There are things Seventh graders do in lunch break. They eat their lunch, talk about their first attempts at masturbation, or just solve their Linear Equation homework.
We played Tae–Kwon–Do on the terrace. And no, I wasn’t in a Chinese school. And it wasn’t even real Tae-Kwon-Do, it was just 30 boys copycating Shawn Michaels’ Sweet Chin Music. Without wearing any protection, of course. And without the swag. Or dexterity.
I don‘t know why we did that. When we got the top floor with a terrace, we had no idea what to do with it. We only knew we had to claim it before girls turned this heavenly place into a stupid noisy canteen. Initially, we used to roam around at the terrace like old diabetic people do in children’s park, after which Atif started bringing the book of erotic stories he stole from his Aunt’s collection, thus infusing some exuberance in our lunch break strolls.
Hardly a month later, everybody was kicking everybody without any particular motive, or reward.
“What the fuck are you guys doing? “I asked Atif as somebody kicked my butts.
“Tae-Kwon-Do. “He replied, missing Tiger Mandal’s waist by a few millimetres. Tiger Mandal was swift and he kicked Atif twice after that. I wanted to point out that it wasn’t Tae-Kwon-Do, but another kick in my calf made me drop that idea and run for cover. It was a crazy sight. It seemed like people had gone mad. It seemed like everybody had slept with everybody’s sister.
Those who didn‘t participate were termed “Eunuchs” and I was one of them.
“You have to join us! “My friends would say, “For the sake of Indo-Dragon gang. ”
Our class had a few groups we called gangs. They were as followed –
Mayo Gang. Bichchu Gang. Shudra Gang. Hero Gang. Liliput Gang. Mard Gang. And the Indo–Dragons.
It was me who came up with the name, the logo, and the team members. I had recruited them, and now I was labelled an Eunuch by my own members.
I had reasons to not participate in this barbaric activity. For starters, I was the class monitor. Then, I was still sane, unlike my friends. Also, I didn’t want to be kicked in front of Doctor.
So I accepted the tag and kept asking them to end this risky game. They didn’t listen to me anyway. Their pants kept ripping at the perineums with embarrassing chhrrrrrsss, yet they continued. Now if that couldn’t stop them, a monitor surely couldn’t have.
Their circus didn’t last long though, as the staff room was just below the terrace and the lunchtimes for teachers and students were the same.
So one day, when they broke the desk, John Paul sir ran up and joined the Tae-Kwon-Do. He was a six feet adult. He kicked the shit out of everybody. Four boys, including Atif, were charged. And BN Thakur sir, the Eagle of MZMS, thrashed them good.
Tae-Kwon-Do stopped since that day and Atif restarted sneaking erotic storybooks from his Aunt’s collection.
I was happy again.