Word Play

Word Play

By: Debaprasad Mukherjee

“I’m a game if I’m taken in the game,” sulked Arun. Arun was a hefty newcomer in standard seven of St. Joseph Boys’ Middle School.

Robin eyed him critically. It was at him the sulk was displayed. He was the school cricket captain. Arun was trying to convince Robin of his cricketing prowess displayed in his last school. Like his countenance Arun had a rough way expression that bordered on bragging. The other classmates remained intrigued at the conversation between the two. They didn’t interrupt although all backed Robin who kept tackling Arun amicably with a mix of humour. The first period was about to start.

“We have a game bird here,” concluded Robin with a chuckle. There was a roar of laughter followed by further frowning from Arun.

“Having a funny time, boys!” Mr. Paul, the English teacher, entered with a register in his hand. He was a lithe man in late thirties with sharp features. The boys loved him.

“What’s the topic about? That is, if it’s worth a mention to me,” he inquired, putting the register on the table.

“No secret over there, sir. Arun, the new boy, wants to be in the school cricket team, and says he’s a game only if he’s taken in the game.” It was Kuldeep who replied.

“I’m sure our Robin hasn’t taken it lying down.” Paul smirked. He was well acquainted with the smartness of the cricket captain who was in his final class.

“Rather he has taken it with a pinch of salt.” Sudip suppressed a guffaw.

“I want to listen to it from Arun to have larger idea.” Paul wanted to involve the new boy into conversation.

Arun stood up. Remnants of fume had still not left his face. “He called me a game bird, sir. But I’ll show everyone that I’m a bird of prey.”

Despite the undercurrent laughter in the students Paul liked the determination in Arun’s face. So did he the play of words in his wards in whom he wanted to infuse the fun of English.

“I’m sure you’re good at your game, Arun. But you’ve to prove yourself. Gamesmanship can’t put you into a game.” Mr. Paul smiled gently.

Arun was not sure what his teacher meant. “What do I have to do, sir?” he asked blankly.

“You’ve to play,” Paul suggested seriously. “Let’s have a play.”

The boys were amused, yet a little confused. Paul loved to play with words, often confusing the students in such an endeavour. But to play in the field was under the purview of Mr. Alexander, the game teacher.

Mr. Paul liked the bewilderment of the students. “I’ll inform Mr. Alexander. We’ll have a play today at the recess followed by a play on our annual day, and assess the mettle of Arun.”

The boys chorused a hurrah. Arun’s jawline tightened. ‘I’ll succeed whatsoever time I’m made to play,’ he resolved.

Paul took attendance and engaged the boys in a O Henry story following routine grammar lessons. He believed in teaching beyond the school curriculum so that the language classes remained entertaining. No wonder St. Joseph was a reputed middle school in the town.

Mr. Paul and Mr. Alexander stood side by side under a large canopy planted on the sideline of the school ground. Midday heat of June was no spoiler for boys, specially after the announcement of merger of the next period with the recess. All the students had assembled alongside the ground to see the new boy perform.

Most of the school team was on the ground in their cricketing gears. “Bat or bowl?” asked a smiling Robin.

“You name it.” Arun shrugged.

“Oh..kay, pad up.”

Arun had a wry smile on his face as he took guard from umpire- Vinod of sixth standard. Vinod was good in his job and enjoyed the same. Sudip was the other umpire standing at square leg with a floppy hat on. Altaf of fifth class stood as the dummy runner at non striker end without leg pad. He won’t bat. The entire exercise was to test Arun’s acumen.

Kuldeep came running with the ball in his hand. He was the best fast bowler of the team. The ball wheezed past the off stump of Arun. He shoulder armed to leave the ball.

“This guy can bat,” muscularly built Alexander in sideline nodded appreciation.

The second ball wrapped the front leg pad of Arun.

“How..z.z..zat!” shouted Kuldeep extending both his arms at the umpire.

Vinod negated the appeal with a smile. “Way out on front foot.”

A sparkling square cut came of Arun’s bat off the third ball. The ball crossed the boundary before anyone could move. Even Robin clapped in applause.

Fast bowlers are a vengeful lot. Kuldeep ran his run up like a bull to bowl a bouncer that flew way over Arun’s head.

“No ball,” called Sudip, the leg umpire.

Robin patted Kuldeep’s back. “Take it easy.”

The next ball was a jaw crusher. It was one of Kuldeep’s most lethal weapons. Arun stepped back to hook it coolly over the mid wicket boundary.

Vinod’s arms towered over his head to signal a six. Kuldeep threw a nasty look at Arun with hands over his hip.

The next ball was a yorker. Arun blocked it carefully. Then came a good length ball that met with a crisp cover drive all the way for four.

“You bat well,” nodded Robin from mid-off. “Let’s see how good you are with spin.

Sandy of class six was called to bowl. He was the highest wicket taker in last year’s inter middle school tournament. Sandy bowled leg spin and googly.

He, however, fared no better than Kuldeep. He was hit for three boundaries and two drives to long off fielder for which Arun refused to run.

“I’m going to hit this one for a over boundary,” declared Arun smugly as Sandy was preparing to deliver his last ball.

In spite of his air of pride few in the crowd disbelieved Arun. He had already shown what he was capable of. Sandy cleverly bowled a googly. Arun read it perfectly to loft it high over the long on fielder. But the ball didn’t travel the distance and landed in the hands of Punit who ran a few steps back to catch it gleefully.

Umpire Vinod’s index went up in air. “Out.”

Arun looked at his bat handle and sighed. He started walking off slowly.

Mr. Alexander called all the players back. There was a huge cheer from the audience for Arun.

Alexander patted Arun’s back. “You’ll be an asset for our team.”

Arun had sobered a lot following his accolades. “Thank you, sir,” he lowered his head respectfully.

“You washed me out of the ground.” Kuldeep sported a friendly grin. There was no sign of grouse in his face.

“What do you bowl, Arun?” asked Alexander.

“Just medium pace, sir. Nothing compared to that of Kuldeep.” Kuldeep smiled. So did everybody else.

“Let’s see how you bowl. But before we start with your bowling tell me why your last shot didn’t go the distance? You hit the ball with middle.”

There was a sad smile on Arun’s lips. “Actually, sir, my bat handle developed a play during my last stroke.” He swayed his bat in air. Indeed the blade wobbled to an extent.

“So we have a play inside the play,” Paul Sir moved into action all of a sudden.

“And you promised a repeat play during the annual day, sir.” Kuldeep said hopefully. The annual day was only a couple of months off. He hoped to bowl better that day.

“Antanaclasis. Are you aware of the term?” Paul looked quizzically at his students.

“An..ta..na..cla..sis?” Robin gaped in exasperation.

“Yes. They are homographic words,” Paul fired another salvo at his students.

The boys looked at each other. No one had an answer.

Paul relished the moments he was in his elements.

“Words of same spelling but of different meaning.” He went on patiently. “You’ve used it inadvertently many a time today. ‘I’m game if I’m in the game’, ‘play in bat handle while playing a shot’, and maybe something else I failed to notice. Any other example, anyone?”

Pratik, the class topper, raised his hand. “A kite flying like a kite.”

“Exactly,” Paul was pleased. “Similarly, there can be other ‘play’s if we consider. Shakespeare was a master of Antanaclasis.”

Mr. Alexander’s eyes gleamed in a moment. “You stupid! What takes you so long? He means staging a play during the annual day. He’s trying to fox you with the cunning of a fox.”

Alexander received an adoring glance from Paul. The students got excited. “Which play are you suggesting, sir?” asked Kuldeep.

“What is better than ‘Othello’, with Othello looking at a sleeping Desdemona in candle light and uttering, ‘put out the light, and then put out the light.’?”

“You confuse us again, sir.” It was from Arun.

“I’ll explain, later,” Paul remained calm. “But are you a game to play Othello?”

Arun had a coy smile. “Sure, sir.”

“And who plays Desdemona?” asked Robin.

Paul’s eyes roved around for a while before getting stuck on Deepak, who had an effeminate face without a trace of hair, and a flute like tonal structure.

A roar of chortle ensued.