Revolution 2020 (19 page)

‘Make it fifty
for Bhansali,’ Shrivastava said. ‘What’s for
dessert?’

‘Moong daal
halwa,’ I said.

‘My
favourite!’ Prof Shrivastava said and left.

                                                               ♦

We had booked a
private room in Taj Ganga for the AICTE inspection dinner. We had
also invited our entire faculty and senior government officials who
had helped us in the past. They came with families. This party of a
hundred people burnt another hole in GangaTech’s pocket.

We hadn’t
earned a rupee of revenue yet. We had spent six crores already on
construction, equipment, faculty, and of course, fixing government
officials.

However, Shukla-ji
didn’t seem to care.

‘Relax, we
will recover the money,’ Shukla-ji said. He handed me a whisky
with soda.

I scanned the room.
‘We have paid bribes to at least thirty people in this room,’
I said.

Shukla-ji laughed.

‘What have we
done wrong? We only wanted to open a college,’ I

said.

‘It’s
okay,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘If we had a straightforward and
clean system, these professors would open their own colleges.
Blue-chip companies and software firms could open colleges. The
system is twisted, they don’t want to touch it. That is where
we come in’

‘When will we
make money? I paid five lakhs today for the inspection.’

‘Pay them some
more,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘Who?’

‘The
inspectors’

‘Why?’ I
said. ‘Shrivastava sir said it is enough. We will get the
approval in a week.’

‘I want them
to not only clear the college, but also say great things about
GangaTech,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘In writing?’
I said.

‘Yes, which we
will use for marketing. Ten thousand more to the minions, fifty more
to the main guy. I’ll arrange the cash.’

He took out his
phone and made a call.

Shukla-ji and I went
to the dinner buffet. We filled our plates with food, and came to one
corner of the room. ‘The cash will arrive in an hour,’ he
told me.

‘Why do you
trust me so much, Shukla-ji. I could steal your money.’

‘You don’t
have a family. Whom would you steal for?’ he said.

The AICTE approval
came on time, as promised by Prof Shrivastava. We had one final step
before we opened for admissions. We needed the state university
affiliation. Mangesh Tiwari, the vice-chancellor, had sat on our
application for months.

We were at
Shukla-ji’s place. ‘Affiliation is a simple job. We are
offering him double the market rate. Mangesh is turning senile,’
Bedi said.

‘How much does
he want?’ Shukla-ji asked.

‘It’s
not about the money. He doesn’t like us. Doesn’t even
take our calls’ Bedi said.

‘What is the
solution?’ I said.

‘Use some
contacts. Non-political if possible, he is a college batchmate of our
DM,’ Bedi said.

‘I know the
DM’s daughter. Old school friend,’ I said.

‘Well, do
whatever it takes. I want admissions to open next week. Full-page ads
in every paper,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘Don’t
worry, next Sunday Varanasi will talk only about GangaTech,’ I
said.

                                                            ♦

I had promised
myself not to call Aarti. However, I had no choice.

‘Look who’s
calling today!’ Aarti chirped.

‘You sound
happy,’ I said.

‘Do I? Maybe
because you called. I don’t really have another reason.’
‘Why? What happened?’ I said.

‘Nothing. I
have to find a job in Varanasi.’

‘That’s
not so bad.’

‘Will your
college have its own plane?’ she said.

‘Not yet,’
I said. ‘But if we do, we will make you cabin supervisor.’

She laughed. ‘How
are you? When will your college actually have students?’

‘When we
manage to please every Indian government official on this earth,’
I said. ‘Actually, I had called for some work.’

‘What?’
she said.

‘I wanted to
meet your dad.’

‘Really? How
come?’

‘We need some
help in getting through to the state university’

‘You want to
speak to him now?’

‘No, I’d
prefer to meet him face to face,’ I said.

‘Would you
like to meet
me
face to face?’ she said. ‘Or am I
still  on the blacklist? To be called only in work emergencies’

‘Nothing like
that. We can catch up after I meet your dad.’

‘Of course,
work first,’ she said in a sarcastic tone.

‘My admissions
are stuck, Aarti. It’s urgent,’ I said.

‘Okay, okay,
fine. Hold on a second, let me check with him,’ she

said.

She spoke to her
father and picked up the phone again. ‘Tomorrow morning at
eight?’

‘Sure,’
I said. ‘I will see you then.’

                                                               ♦

‘You never
come home now. Not friends with Aarti anymore?’ DM Pradhan
said.

We sat in his study.
A lifesize portrait of Aarti’s grandfather, ex-CM Brij Pradhan,
stared at me from the wall. DM Pradhan - broad faced with chiselled
features, fit and proud - sipped coffee with me.

‘Nothing like
that, Uncle. Work keeps me busy,’ I said.

‘I have heard
about your college. Shukla-ji’s involed in it, right?’ DM
Pradhan said.

‘Yes, and now
we are one step away from admissions’ I said and explained the
problem with VC Tiwari.

He heard me out and
then said, ‘Let me see.’ He took out his cellphone and
called the VC.

‘Tiwari sir?
Hello, Pratap Pradhan here ... Yes, long time. How are you?’

Aarti’s father
fixed a meeting between us and Tiwari in the afternoon.

‘Thank you so
much,’ I said, preparing to leave.

‘You are
welcome. Listen, have you paid Tiwari?’

I felt awkward
discussing such issues with Aarti’s dad, so I kept quiet.

‘I know how
the education business works. Tiwari talks intellectual, but he wants
his share. I hope you guys won’t get me involved with that.’

‘Not at all,
sir,’ I said. ‘Even I don’t deal with that stuff. I
only look after the college’

‘So all such
work is done by Shukla-ji’s men?’ Aarti’s father
asked.

‘Yes,’ 1
said as I gazed at the floor.

‘Good, you are
like me then,’ he said. ‘Practical enough to leave the
people who do the funny stuff alone.’

I nodded and bowed
to him before I left his room.

                                                   ♦

‘One chocolate
milk shake with ice cream, please,’ Aarti said. We had come to
the same
CCD
in
Sigra where Sunil had brought me
after the career fair debacle.

‘Black tea,’
I said.

She wore a mauve
chikan salwar-kameez. Her father had bought it for her from Lucknow.
She removed her white dupatta and kept it aside.

The waiter placed
her milk shake on the table. She put her lips to the straw, without
touching the overflowing glass with her hands. ‘I often spill
this. I better be careful,’ she said.

Wisps of her hair
brushed the table as she sipped her drink. The entire cafe checked
her out.

‘We should
totally do this more often,’ she said, coffee meetings. Even
though neither of us is having coffee.’

‘I don’t
think so’ I said.

‘Why? You
don’t like meeting me?’ she said. ‘So much for
being my best friend for over ten years!’

‘Raghav won’t
appreciate it,’ I said.

‘What is wrong
in meeting for coffee? Besides, Raghav is too busy to be bothered by
such things.’

‘Of course,
big reporter now. I met him,’ I said as I lifted my cup.

‘You did,’
she said, still sipping her milk shake as her eyebrows shot up.

‘He
interviewed me, for his paper.’

‘What for?’
she said.

‘Local boy
starts college.’

‘It’s
true. Quite an achievement.’

‘Yeah, for a
loser like me.’

‘I didn’t
say that,’ she said. ‘Hey, you’d like something to
eat?’

Before I could
answer she ordered two chocolate chip muffins. If Aarti had a choice,
there would be nothing but chocolate to eat in the world. ‘How’s
your job-hunt going?’ I said.

‘I have an
offer. I am not sure I want to take it.’

‘Really? What
is the offer?’

‘Guest
relations trainee, Ramada Hotel. They are opening up in Cantonment.’

‘Five-star,
isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, they
came to meet dad for some work. Dad found out about the vacancy, I
applied and now they want me to start next month.’

‘Go for it. I
know you, you can’t sit at home ’ I said.

‘You know me
better than most people, Gopal,’ she said, ‘but...’
‘What?’ I said.

The muffins arrived
but she didn’t touch them. I noticed her eyes. They had turned
moist. A tear trickled down her cheek.

‘Aarti, are
you okay?’ I passed her a tissue.

She wiped her eyes
and returned the eyeliner-stained tissue to me. ‘Once I join,
my parents will say - this is a good job, close to home, stay here.
If I sulk at home, maybe they will let me try for some airline.’

I scoffed at her.
‘What is the need to cry for this? You’ve got a good job.
You have done a course in hospitality ...’

‘Aviation, not
hospitality.’

‘Fine, but a
flight attendant also serves guests, like hotel staff. And a guest
relations trainee has better scope for growth. Trainee today, officer
tomorrow, maybe GM of the hotel some day. You are smart. You will
rise.’

She sniffed a few
times to control herself.

‘You think
so?’ she said, her eyes even more beautiful when glistening
with tears.

I couldn’t
respond, so lost was I in the details of her face.

‘What? Did the
eyeliner spread?’ she laughed. ‘I am so stupid, crying
away like a baby.’

‘No, you are
not. You wouldn’t have got the job otherwise,’ I said.
‘Should I take it?’

‘Why not? Quit
if you don’t like it. What does Raghav say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Meaning?’

‘I haven’t
met him since the offer. I called him, but he said I should do
whatever I want. He is in some village this week for a story.’

‘It’s
good for both of you if you stay here,’ I said.

‘Well, he
didn’t say that at all.’

‘I am sure he
realises it.’

‘I don’t
think he cares so much about my issues, unless I am involved in a
corruption scandal,’ she said.

I smiled like she
had intended me to. I asked for the bill.

‘So, coffee
friends?’

‘We are
friends,’ I said.

‘Cool. It’s
not officially open, but I will show you the hotel sometime. It’s
pretty grand.’

‘Sure,’
I said.

‘When can I
see GangaTech?’ she said.

‘Two more
weeks,’ I said, ‘I promise. It’s almost done.’

We walked to her
car.

‘I laughed, I
cried. It is so nice to meet you,’ Aarti said.

‘Same here, I
didn’t cry though,’ I said.

She laughed again.
She hugged me and held me slightly longer than usual.

‘Old friends
are old friends, Gopal. Boyfriends and all are fine, but they never
understand you like old friends can.’

I hated the word
‘friends’ but didn’t say anything, just waved
goodbye.

My phone rang. Bedi.

‘The VC has
called us for a meeting. The phone call from the DM worked. They know
each other from childhood,’ he said.

‘Old friends
are old friends’ I said.

For GangaTech’s
opening I wore a suit for the first time in my life. I supervised the
decorations. We slept in my office the night before. We had turned
three classrooms into admission centres. I stayed up to ensure we had
forms, pens and information booklets.

Shukla-ji had gone
all out too. He had managed to convince the Chief Minister to come
and inaugurate the college. Two state ministers would accompany him.
The security officials of the politicians had already visited us the
day before. Since we didn’t have an auditorium yet, we had
erected a makeshift podium inside a tent for the speeches.

‘Two thousand
invites sent, sir, to all prominent families in Varanasi,’
Ajay, from the chemical engineering faculty, told me.

We had promised
lunch. Hence, we expected at least half of the invitees to turn up.
Given the distance, we had arranged four buses for the general
public, and a dozen cars to ferry the media to and fro.

I had spent ten
lakhs on full-page ads in leading city newspapers, three days in a
row. You only get one shot at a launch. Shukla-ji wanted the city to
know he had built an institution.

Work ended at 5:30
a.m. I lay down on the office sofa for a power nap before the
function. Shukla-ji’s call woke me up at six-thirty. I rubbed
my eyes, disoriented.

‘Good morning,
Shukla-ji,’ I said.

‘
Didyou
see
the
newspaper
?’

I realised he must
have seen the full-page ads and called in excitement. After years of
waiting, finally the day had come. ‘No, I am in campus. The
paper hasn’t arrived yet,’ I said.

‘How did this
happen?’ Shukla-ji said.

I wondered why he
didn’t sound happy. Maybe he is not a morning person, I
thought. ‘The ads look nice, don’t they?’

‘Not the ads,
you idiot. I am talking about the article in
Dainik
.’
Shukla-ji had never called me names before. Sure, I worked for him.
But he had never raised his voice at me until now.

‘What
article?’ I said, my hand going to my sleep-deprived, throbbing
temples.

‘Read the
paper and call me.’

‘Okay. How do
the ads look?’

I only heard a click
in response.