The Green Room

The Piano

Climbing down the stairs to the Green Room, Rohan saw a young woman, probably in mid-twenties, in black sweater and tight blue jeans in the middle of a narrow corridor. She was looking at him, her eyes heavy with kohl, her hair sparsely highlighted. Mrs. Sharma, a respectfully fat lady with round face, small eyes and burgundy hair, was standing at the door to the waiting room.

"And here is..." Mrs. Sharma raised her hand as soon as he came in view. And then, he spotted a girl behind her. She was in a grey skirt and green blazer with the words 'HOUSE CAPTAIN' embroidered on her badge in golden. She was leaning against a wall, her dark and silky hair carefully tied back, her sparking eyes casually looking at him. His heart skipped a beat and his legs... a step. She swirled by... He heard someone gasp. A sudden pain shot through his chest; and the next moment he was breathing in dirt on the floor.

"Oh boy! Oh boy!" Mrs. Sharma came forward. "Watch your step!"

Rohan jumped to his feet, and almost bumped into her. With his face burning, he passed her an embarrassed smile. He felt idiotic, covered in dirt from head to toe. He looked back at the staircase as if it had deliberately pushed him.

"As I was saying..." Mrs. Sharma turned to the young woman. "And here is Rohan Agarwal. He will be assisting you with this play."

Rohan gave another smile, trying not to look at the girl behind her.

"And she is Miss Anjali Kapoor, your new director."

"Hello, Rohan!" Anjali Kapoor held out a hand.

"Hello..." he said midway rubbing dirt off his knees.

"Manners... Mr. Agarwal!" Mrs. Sharma cut in.

"Oh sorry! Good evening... err... Anj..."

"...Ma'am," Mrs. Sharma put in.

"Poor baby!" Anjali chuckled and put a hand over her mouth. "Never mind! You can call me Anjali!"

Rohan threw a glance at the girl leaning against the wall. Chandni Joshi was giggling and how he wanted to curl up and die!

"So," Mrs. Sharma continued, "if you will excuse me, I will leave you to our students." She shook hands with Anjali and made for the stairs. "And you, Rohan, select two assistants. And be here on time tomorrow!"

"I had a match," Rohan defended, but she was gone.

Anjali went inside the waiting room. Manav was sitting on the floor with Nisha. They stood up the moment she entered. The room was damp and cold. Heaps of old costumes and props lay scattered on the floor. "What's with all these costumes? Will they just lie here?" Anjali asked.

"No," Manav replied immediately. He was slightly taller than Rohan and bulkier. He was wearing his yellow house T-shirt. His hair was neatly combed back. "Rohan will have them removed."

Rohan glared at him, but he was right. These were the leftovers of the previous play and as the manager, he would have to get the Green Room cleaned up.

"And this is your make-up room!" Anjali went inside and looked around. Mirrors were installed on two adjacent walls and a single old, wooden chair sat in front of them. "This place seems very old, doesn't it?"

"Yes it is! Our school is one-fifty-three years old." Nisha said abruptly in an unusual high pitch voice. She was in Alfred House, A.F. Her red T-shirt perfectly suited her fair skin and brownish hair. Boys had made fun of her voice when she first joined the school in class VI. It continued for weeks before they got bored and moved on to someone else. But as years passed, her voice became bold and commanding and merged flawlessly with her personality. "And you know what, people even believe that this Green Room is haunted!"