This story is selected as Editor’s Choice and won INR 500
Hilarious Story from School – Who’s the captain?
Photo credit: mimiliz from morguefile.com
Anita Singh stood outside the headmaster’s office, bouncing on the balls of her feet with glee. She checked the corridors for teachers, and on finding none she quickly slipped into the nearest empty classroom and unfolded the letter the headmaster gave her.
Miss Anita Singh of class XII-A has been assigned as the school representative to the Annual Group Activity Competition which will take place in Gurgaon on the second Saturday of August. She is requested to collect the required material from the faculty in-charge Mr. Raghav Sinha.
Mr. Sinha wasn’t high up on her “friend’s” list, yet if a small conversation with him will be succeeded by her taking part in the biggest competition of the year, then who’s complaining?
She quickly folded the letter and slipped into her pocket before checking her watch.
It was almost time for the lunch break.
She peeked out of the door, satisfied at the corridor’s emptiness she quickly made a beeline for Mr. Sinha’s office on the first floor.
Anita was of average height and slightly plump, though not so much to be termed fat. A healthy sort of plump. Her hair was short and curly, held back with the regulation headband while her round brown eyes, freckled nose and full, pink lips gave out the impression of an honest, hardworking girl—efficiently hiding her mad streak of mischief. Clad in the school summer uniform of white half-sleeved white shirt and light green skirt with white socks and black sports shoes, she looked every inch the prim and proper twelfth grader.
She rapped her knuckles sharply on the door, and entered after hearing a muffled “Come in!”.
Mr. Sinha was aged somewhere around the forties, his mop of black hair still yet to show grey. The thick rectangular spectacles sat primly on the bridge of a rather long nose, showing his sharp onyx eyes in sharp relief. His mouth presently perked up in a smirk when he saw her enter.
There was no love lost between them, but that didn’t mean that he did not like her. In fact, as far as he was concerned, Anita Singh had a lot more potential than the other kids of the school.
That was the reason why he had offered her name to be considered for the competition.
“Good afternoon, Miss Singh. The headmaster has sent you for the details, hasn’t he?” he said, lifting his eyes from the assignments he was grading.
She nodded.
“Ah! Good. Now just hang on a second until I find the papers.” He began rummaging through his drawers, pulling out bundles of papers like a magician conjuring flowers before he gave a yelp of surprise and a whoop of success.
“There’s the thing…yeah. Right. The competition.”
He cleared his thought before continuing.
“This Group Activity Competition is a big thing—even if you make it to the quarters, you get a fancy certificate that will get you hushed praise in every interview henceforth. The primary focus of this competition is to see how well you can work with a group whose members you haven’t come across even once in your lifetime. Team work, strategy, way of execution, quick thinking and unity are the parameters you will be judged on. It has often happened that teams might have failed the assigned task yet moved forward because they scored high on those attributes. You with me?”
Anita nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He gave her an appreciative smile before continuing. “Quarters are the highest we have reached…and that too five years ago. So it’s no big secret that we want to win.”
He consulted the paper he held in his hand. “There would be five members per team—each member assigned a specific “post” as such. It has been decided by lottery. There’s a group captain, assistant captain, inventory in-charge, food in-charge and the PR person. And there’s a twist in all this—you wouldn’t be going by your real names, but rather code names assigned by the organising authority. And it is against the rules to refer to your team-mates by any name other than the name assigned. And,” his lips twitched. “Trust me, the names are a bit…well, weird.”
Anita stared.
Mr. Sinha shrugged before continuing. “I suggest you note them down for reference.”
“I don’t have my bag, sir,” she said, waving only the pen and the letter.
“Scribble it on the back of the letter, then. I am sure the headmaster won’t mind,” he said, pointing to the crumpled paper in her hands. He gave her a hardbound notebook to use as a writing board.
“Who’s the group captain, what’s the assistant captain, I don’t know’s the food in-charge…”
Anita raised her head, her pen still poised on the paper.
“Sir?” she said, puzzled. “I didn’t understand. Who’s the group captain?”
“Yep, that’s right. I knew you were smart.”
She frowned. She must have heard wrong.
“Who’s the group captain?”
“Yes.”
“Sir, I am asking you!” she said, exasperated.
“And I am answering, Anita,” Mr. Sinha said seriously.
Anita closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
“Sir, maybe I am getting it all wrong so would you please read out loud the list from the start,” she said slowly, forcing some calm into her voice.
Mr. Sinha shrugged. “All right. Now listen carefully. Who’s the group captain, What’s the…”
“The name, sir! I want the name!”
“And I am telling you!”
Anita sighed, breathing in and out the way her yoga instructor taught her. “Sir, let’s skip the group captain for the time being. Who’s the assistant captain?”
“No! The group captain! Who’s the group captain!”
“Sir! I am asking about the assistant captain! What is the name of the assistant captain?”
“That’s right!”
“What?”
“Yes of course!”
“What are you saying?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“How would I know! You were supposed to tell me!”
“So, I am telling you!”
Anita slapped her palm on her forehead, patience dying an untimely death.
“Sir, what’s going on?” she asked wearily.
“What is the name of the assistant captain!” he answered yet again, though she could see beads of perspiration on his forehead due to agitation.
She sighed. “Let’s leave out the assistant captain for now. Who’s the food in-charge?”
“No! Who’s the group captain!”
“What?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“I don’t know!”
“That’s the name of the food in-charge!”
“What is the name of the food in-charge?”
“No. What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“I don’t know!”
“Are you trying to be smart here, kid?”
Anita rubbed the temple with her free hand. This was driving her off the cliff now. And he was accusing her to be too smart? He has got to be kidding!
“Okay okay,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. It would take a lot more than deep breaths to calm her down. “Let’s start one by one. From the beginning. Name of the group captain.”
“Who.”
“What?”
“The assistant captain.”
“The guy who would be leading the team.”
“Who.”
“What?”
“The assistant captain.”
Anita slid down on to the floor, her knees giving away. What the hell was going on here?
“Are you all right, Miss Singh?” Mr. Sinha asked in a concerned voice.
“I don’t know,” she snapped back, not bothering to categorize the man as a teacher at the moment.
“The food in-charge,” he said primly.
She slapped the palm on her forehead, feeling her head pound.
“Okay. Let’s leave that too. Which role would I place?” she asked
“The inventory in-charge,” he replied, consulting his sheet.
She sighed. It was a start.
“I am the inventory in-charge. What is my name?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
She groaned. Not again!
“Not the assistant captain. I want to know my code-name. What is my codename?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“I don’t know!”
“The food in-charge.”
She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, her headache increasing exponentially.
“Are you even listening to me, sir? One member at a time. Who’s the group captain?” she asked again, her hands trembling with the desire to throttle the man sitting in front of her.
“Yes. And what is the name of the assistant captain.”
“You didn’t tell me!”
“I told you!”
“When?”
“Gods, Anita!” said Mr. Sinha, mirroring Anita’s exasperation. “I didn’t know you could be so dumb! We have gone over this like a million times by now…”
“What?” she groaned, unable to take this anymore.
“The assistant captain.”
She had a strange desire to punch his face.
“And the PR person? Tell me that guy’s name at least.”
“Why.”
“What?”
“The assistant captain.”
“I am not talking about that damned assistant captain! I asked the name of the PR person!”
“Why.”
“That’s rude, sir. You said you would tell me their names.”
“And I am telling you!”
She sighed loudly. “Then who’s the PR person?”
“Who’s the group captain!”
“What?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“I don’t know!” Anita almost shrieked
“That’s the food in-charge!” Mr. Sinha replied calmly, like telling a preschooler that one plus one equals to two.
“A name! I want a bloody name! Can you possibly tell it today?” she positively screamed.
“That’s the inventory in-charge!”
“But I am the inventory in-charge!”
“Of course you are!”
“What is the name of the PR person?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
A swift kick to the couch next to her foot relieved some of the murderous intent she felt growing in her. “Stick with one member, dammit!”
She took in an impossibly long breath, exhaled loudly and cleared her throat.
“One last time. The group captain.”
“Who.”
“The name of the group captain. What is the name of the group captain?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“Back to the assistant captain again…I did not ask about that damned guy! And I am telling you again, I don’t know!”
“The food in-charge!”
“Stick to one, stop jumping around! The PR person?”
“Why.”
“Why why? Because I am asking. And you said you are going to tell me!”
“And I am telling you!”
Anita wanted to yell like a maniac and scratch the sofa like a crazed kitten. “Are you telling me today?”
“Wow. You know your name.”
“I DON’T KNOW MY NAME!”
“That’s not your name. I told your name. Today.”
“When?”
“How come you know the name of the substitute?”
“What is the name of the substitute? And how did the substitute come into the picture?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“Who’s the assistant captain?”
“Who’s the group captain!”
“I don’t know!”
“The food in-charge!”
“We are not doing this again. Why?”
“The PR person!”
“What do you mean?”
“What is the name of the assistant captain!”
“SHUT UP!” she yelled, finally cracking.
Mr. Sinha looked shocked.
“That’s the supervisor,” he squeaked.
“Who’s the supervisor?”
“Who’s the group captain!”
“Shut up!” she growled, finally fed up.
“That’s right!” he said, sounding satisfied.
Anita looked positively murderous at the moment before something finally clicked in place.
“Hang on a second,” she said slowly.
“Who’s the group captain?”
“Who’s the group captain.”
“Who. The group captain. The name of the group captain is Who.” she said, realization finally dawning in her eyes. The teacher looked finally at peace.
“What is the assistant captain,” she continued, her confidence emboldened. “I don’t know is the food in-charge, Why is the PR person, Today, that’s me, is the inventory in-charge.”
He nodded profusely.
“When is the substitute, Shut Up is the supervisor,” she finished.
“Yeah, that’s correct, Miss Singh. And congratulations! You have passed the screening round of the Annual Group Activity Competition!”
She stared at him dumbly.
He pointed to the CCTV camera at the top left corner of the room.
“The camera transmitted live feed of what happened here to the competition officials. And,” he turned to show her the bud embedded in his ear. “This little beauty kept me in constant contact with them. And I am happy to say you passed with distinction!”
“What?” she said weakly.
Mr. Sinha beamed at her. “You did great, girl. Now you can proceed to the group stage. I will send the documents with the real codenames of your team-mates shortly.”
“And yeah,” he turned the monitor of his computer. It showed the assembly hall. All the students and teachers were seated there, watching something being projected on the screen. She peered, trying to figure out what was being projected.
She saw her own face.
“What?!?” she yelped. Now she realised why the corridors were so empty!
“You classmates are glad to see you qualify, you know,” he said delightedly. He checked his watch before almost yelping. “Whoops! The lunch hour is almost over…off you trot!”
She walked out of the room, mortified. Man, she had yelled, cursed even…in front of the whole school!
Just then, a group of students passed by her. She could feel her cheeks redden slightly.
One of them came up to her and whispered in her ear.
“Who’s the captain?”
__END__
