He said, ‘Wait , we have to make up for the time I lost sleeping.’

There may be earnest fools who might presume that Mahendra had indeed slept and wasted precious study-time; it is solely for their information that one needs to mention that Mahendra’s educational methods would not be endorsed by any school inspector.

Asha trusted her husband. She truly believed that learning did not come easily to her and yet she must pursue it as a duty to her husband. For this precise reason, she did her best to collect her thoughts which ran helter-skelter.

She sat on a corner of the mattress on the floor, pored over her books fervently and began to learn them by rote, swaying to the rhythm. At the other end of the bedroom, her teacher sat at a small table with his medical books open. Every once in a while he cast an oblique glance at his student, apparently to measure her concentration. Suddenly, at some point, he would slam his books shut and call Asha by her pet name, ‘Chuni!’ Startled, Asha would look up. Mahendra would say, ‘Bring the book to me—let me see what you are reading.’

Asha was scared she’d be tested. There was little chance of her passing the test. Her unruly mind was seldom equal to the task of acquiring knowledge from the book of alphabets. The more she tried to learn about the bumblebee, the more the letters swam before her eyes like a pile of mustard seeds. At her teacher’s command Asha would guiltily bring the book and stand beside Mahendra’s desk. One of his arms would snake round her waist and imprison her to his side firmly; he would hold the book in the other hand and ask, ‘How much have you read today?’

Asha would point to the lines she had read.

Mahendra would sound forlorn. ‘Ooh, that much? Want to see how much I have read?’ He would point to the chapter heading in his medical text. Asha would widen her eyes. ‘So what were you doing all this while?’ Mahendra would caress her chin and say, ‘I was lost in somebody s thoughts—a heartless person who was in turn lost in the life and times of the bumblebee.’ Asha could have responded to this unfair accusation. But alas, modesty compelled her to accept this iniquitous defeat in the battle of love.

This will be proof enough that Mahendra’s little school did not follow any private or public schooling methods.

If on a certain day Asha tried to concentrate on her books while Mahendra was away, he’d sneak up from behind her and cover her eyes. Then he’d snatch away her books and say, ‘You are so cruel, you don’t think of me when I am gone?’

Asha would say, ‘Do you want me to remain illiterate?’

Mahendra would reply, ‘Well, thanks to you I am not very literate myself these days.’

The words sounded harsh to Asha. She would make as if to leave and say, ‘How have I stopped you from studying?’

Mahendra would grab her hand and say, ‘How would you know that? I can’t pore over books when you are gone as easily as you can in my absence.’

A serious accusation! This would naturally be followed by a sudden burst of tears, like an autumnal shower, and soon enough it would disappear to reveal the sunshine of love, leaving behind a golden glow.

If the teacher is the greatest barrier in the path of knowledge, the helpless student can scarcely make her way through the wilderness. Sometimes Asha recollected her aunt’s scornful rebuke and felt ashamed. She was aware that her studies were only an excuse for togetherness. Every time she met her mother-in-law she felt mortified. But Rajlakshmi never asked her to do any chores, never had a word of advice for her. If Asha volunteered to lend a hand in the kitchen, she immediately restrained her saying, ‘Oh no, no, you go to the bedroom—or your studies will suffer.’

Eventually, Annapurna said to Asha one day, ‘Your education, or the lack thereof, is quite apparent to me. But are you going to let Mahin fail his exams too?’

Asha hardened her mind with great resolve and said to Mahendra, ‘Your exam preparations are suffering. From now on I shall stay in Aunty’s room downstairs.’

Such severe penance at this tender age! Exiled from the bedroom all the way to Aunty’s room! Even as she uttered these harsh words Asha’s eyes grew heavy with tears, her truant lips trembled and her voice held a tremor.

Mahendra said, ‘Fine, let’s go to Aunty’s room. But then she’d have to come upstairs and take our room.’

Asha felt angry when her solemn, magnanimous gesture was laughed at. Mahendra said, ‘Better still, why don’t you guard me day and night and see for yourself if I am studying for my exams or not?’

The matter was settled very easily that day. Details of the intimate guarding that took place are needless. Suffice it to say that Mahendra failed his exams that year and despite the elaborate descriptions in her book, Asha’s knowledge of the habits of the bumblebee remained meagre.

But it would be wrong to say that such fascinating educational exchanges were conducted uninterrupted. Sometimes Behari dropped in and caused a major disturbance.