Vikram had a system.
The comic went inside the geography textbook. The textbook stayed open at chapter four. He kept his eyes moving between the comic and the board in a rhythm that he had spent three years perfecting — up, down, up, down — so that from the front of the class he appeared to be following along.
He was not following along.
He was reading about a detective who could speak to pigeons. It was the fourth issue in the series and the best one yet.
The geography teacher, Mrs. Sinha, had been teaching for twenty-two years. She had seen every version of this system. The novel inside the textbook. The phone in the pencil case. The mirror in the desk lid.
She let Vikram read for eleven minutes. Then she called his name.
"Vikram. Tell me the three major tributaries of the Ganga."
The class went very still.
Vikram looked up. Then — surprising himself — he answered. "Yamuna, Ghaghra, Gandak."
Mrs. Sinha looked at him for a moment. "Correct." She turned back to the board.
After class she stopped him at the door. She held out her hand. He gave her the comic.
She looked at it for a moment. "I read this series," she said. "The fifth issue is better."
She handed it back and walked away down the corridor.
Vikram stood there for a while.
He finished the fourth issue on the bus home. He thought about Mrs. Sinha for longer than he thought about the comic.
Some teachers teach more by what they don't say than by what they do.
