Greentext · 4 minThe List In His Bag

>be me, 12 years, 2000

>west marredpally, secunderabad

>there is one boy i hate

>gopi

>gopi lives in the next street, the low street near the nala

>same class, same tuition, same everything

>if i get 88 in maths, gopi gets 89

>if i get a new bsa cycle, gopi's mama brings a hero ranger with gears

>gears, in our colony, in 2000

>everybody went to see the gears

>i did not go

>i saw from the terrace

>we race every evening on the road to the tank bund side

>from the hanuman temple to the milk booth

>he wins on monday, i win on tuesday

>the whole colony keeps the count

>the iron man at the corner keeps it on the wall with chalk

>gopi 41, me 39

>in street cricket we are always on opposite teams

>nobody even asks, it is automatic

>my one weapon is leg spin

>i learnt it from watching anil kumble on tv

>gopi cannot read my leg spin

>he gets out to me every week

>he gets so angry he goes home without taking his bat

>his amma sends the bat back with their servant boy

>with a message, "he will come tomorrow"

>he always comes tomorrow

>we do not talk

>we talk only to say "out" or "not out"

>august 2000

>it rains in hyderabad like nobody has seen

>two days, no stopping

>the nala near gopi's street overflows in the night

>water comes into the low street up to the window

>in the morning we see from our terrace

>the whole low street is a brown river

>people walking in it with suitcases on their heads

>nanna puts on his raincoat and goes out

>he comes back after one hour

>behind him, gopi's amma, gopi's nanna, gopi's little sister

>and gopi

>wet up to the chest

>holding his school bag over his head like a suitcase

>"they will stay with us till the water goes" nanna says

>amma is already making tea

>i look at gopi

>gopi looks at the floor

>in our house there are two rooms and a hall

>the elders take the rooms

>the hall is for the children

>gopi's sister sleeps with my sister on the cot

>gopi and i get one bedsheet on the floor

>one bedsheet

>i draw a line in the middle with my finger

>he sees me drawing it

>he moves to the edge

>first day, we do not speak one word

>second day, we do not speak one word

>but we eat on the same floor, three times a day

>he eats my amma's pesarattu and takes four

>i am counting

>third day the sun comes a little

>everybody puts their wet things on our terrace to dry

>gopi's books, his sister's dolls, his nanna's office files

>i go up to bring the clothes

>gopi's notebooks are open on the parapet wall

>pages drying with stones on them

>one page is not a lesson

>it is a list

>on top, in his handwriting

>"to beat him"

>"him" is underlined two times

>1. maths, he got 88, i must get 89 every time

>2. the race, get the count to 50 before him

>3. new cycle, ask mama (done)

>4. leg spin, cannot read it, watch his wrist

>5. his amma's pesarattu is better than our amma's, do not tell amma

>6. ask him to teach me the leg spin

>number 6 has a line through it

>and then the line is rubbed out with an eraser

>and then written again

>i stand on the terrace for a long time

>i do not touch the page

>i go down

>that night on the bedsheet, both of us awake

>the rain is starting again on the asbestos

>gopi says in the dark, very low

>"you read my list"

>i do not say anything

>he says "your sister told me she saw you"

>i still do not say anything

>then i say

>"i also have a list"

>"in my geometry box, under the protractor"

>"to beat gopi"

>"eight points"

>he is quiet

>then he says "i know"

>"number 8 is find out how the gears work"

>"i saw it in tuition in june"

>then he starts laughing

>he puts the pillow on his face so the elders will not hear

>i also start laughing

>my sister wakes up and says "what"

>we say "nothing"

>and laugh more

>"your number 5 is correct" i say

>"my amma's pesarattu is better"

>"i know" he says

>"i ate four"

>"i counted" i say

>next morning, still raining

>on the terrace, under the water tank, where it is a little dry

>i teach him the leg spin

>the grip, the two fingers, the wrist

>he bowls with a wet tennis ball

>it does not turn at all

>"again" i say

>it does not turn

>"again"

>on the sixth day the water goes down

>they go back to the low street to clean the mud

>my amma sends pesarattu in a steel box every morning for one week

>the iron man's wall had got washed in the rain

>the count was gone

>nobody wrote it again

>gopi lives in melbourne now

>he plays club cricket on saturdays, thirty eight years old

>last month he sent me a video on whatsapp

>a fat man in white bowling one leg spinner

>it turns a lot

>the batsman is out

>under it he wrote

>"number 6. done."