Revolution 2020 (30 page)

She hugged me but
looked serious.

‘All good?’
I said.

‘Raghav’s
expose has created complete chaos. Even my family has been affected,’
she said.

‘What
happened?’ I said. ‘But what is this, first come in!’

She came in and
stepped on the new silk carpet I had laid out in her honour. She saw
the huge TV, the velvet sofas and the eight-seater dining table. For
a moment, she forgot about Raghav.

‘Your college
is doing this well?’ she said, wide-eyed.

‘This is only
the beginning,’ I said, and came forward to hold her. ‘With
you by my side, see where I take it. University status in three
years’

‘Big man,
Gopal. You have become a big man,’ she said.

I shook my head.
‘For you, I am the same,’ I said. I kissed her on the
forehead.

I offered to show
her the house. We went upstairs and saw each of the three bedrooms.
My room had a king-size bed with a twelve-inch mattress. Next to the
bed, I had kept a rocking chair similar to Baba’s.

She kept quiet
throughout my guided tour. Every time I showed her something, like
the marble tiles or the split air-conditioner, she looked suitably
awed. However, she seemed more interested in watching the excitement
on my face than the fittings.

I threw myself on
the bed. She sat on the rocking chair. We looked at the window as
rain splattered on the panes.

‘Its raining,’
she said, excited.

‘Its an
auspicious sign. The first time you came to our house,’ I said.

She raised an
eyebrow.

‘It is ours,
not mine. I made it for us,’ I said.

‘Shut up. You
didn’t know we would be together when construction started,’
she said and grinned.

I smiled. ‘Correct.
But I have done it up for us. Else, why would I need such a big
house?’

‘You are the
director. It’s not a joke,’ she said.

‘You want to
talk about Raghav?’ I said. I sensed she needed to.

‘We don’t
have to’ she said and shook her head, putting on a brave smile.

'Come here,’ I
said and patted the bed.

She hesitated, but I
extended my hand. She held it as I pulled her gently down. I kissed
her, and she kissed me back with closed eyes. It wasn’t frantic
or sexual. It was, if at all it is possible to kiss like that, chaste
and pure. However, we kissed for a long time, our pace as gentle as
the rain on the window. I felt her tears on my cheeks. I paused and
held her shoulders. She hugged me and buried her face in my chest. It
was what Aarti always did, and I loved it when she did that. It made
me feel protective.

‘What’s
up, my love?’ I said to her.

‘I am happy
for you, Gopal. I really am.’

‘Us. Say happy
for us,’ I said.

She nodded, even as
she fought back tears.

‘I am happy
for us. And I don’t want to ruin your moment of showing me your
house.’

‘It’s
fine,’ I said.

‘You have
worked so hard to get here. You deserve this,’ she said.

‘What do you
want to talk about?’ I said.

She shook her head
and composed herself. I waited for her to talk.

‘I’m
fine. Girls are emotional. You will get used to my drama,’ she

said.

‘I live for
your drama,’ I said.

She smiled.

‘How’s
Raghav?’

‘They ruined
his office’ she said.

‘Politicians
are vindictive. Is he hurt?’ I said.

‘No, thank
god. The computer and the machines are all broken. He is trying to
bring the issue out but there’s no money’

‘He wants
money? He can ask me,’ I said. I wished he would come and beg
me on bended knees.

‘You know
he’ll never do that. He wont even take money from me.’
‘So?’ I said.

‘He’s
trying to figure stuff out.’

‘Are you still
with me?’ I said.

‘Gopal!’
she said.

‘What?’

‘I wouldn’t
be sitting on your bed. I wouldn’t be, you know ...’

‘Okay, okay,’
I said. I took a pillow and sat against the headrest. She sat on her
haunches, facing me.

‘You have to
stop asking me so much. Please understand this is difficult for me,’
she said.

‘What?’
I said.

‘Breaking up
with him, especially at this time. And
you
want to break the
news to him.’

‘That’s
life, Aarti,’ I said. I planned to go meet Raghav next week.
‘One should be sensitive ...’ she said.

‘Nobody was
sensitive to me when I didn’t clear my entrance exam two years
in a row. Nobody gave a fuck when Baba died. I lived with it. Aarti,
he will learn to face life.’

‘You men ...
why are you so competitive all the time?’ she said.

‘Me? Raghav is
nothing compared to me today. Why would I compete with him?’

‘We can still
wait a few months ...’ she said but I cut her.

‘I cant bear
you to be someone elses girlfriend,’ I said, my voice loud.

‘Really?’
she said, patting my cheek.

‘Not for
another second,’ I said.

I tugged at the
loose end of her Ramada sari, bringing her close to me. We kissed.
The rain grew insistent, noisy, thumping the window rhythmically. We
kissed and, naturally, my hand went to her blouse.

‘Mr Director,’
she smiled, ‘I thought you said you didn’t want to have
me until he was out of my system.’

‘Isn’t
he?’ I said.

‘Almost,’
she said, closing her eyes.

‘Well, maybe
this will help get the remaining bits out,’ I said and brought
her lips to mine again.

I plundered her
neck, planting as many kisses as the raindrops on the window. We
undressed with a lot more awareness than the previous time.

‘These are my
work clothes, please keep them carefully,’ she said as I tried
to fold the never-ending sari.

Our naked bodies
felt toasty in the cold weather. We huddled under the quilt and
explored each other for hours. The rain stopped, started and stopped
again. She wanted to get closer to me, perhaps to justify leaving
Raghav. I wanted to show her how much she meant to me. I could give
up this oversized house, the black car, the entire college for her.

This time she looked
me in the eye as she surrendered herself.

We dozed off.

‘It’s
six o’ clock,’ she said, peering into her mobile phone on
the side-table.

‘Ten more
minutes,’ I said, nuzzling her shoulder.

‘Lazy bones,
wake up,’ she said. ‘And I am famished. Such a big house
and nothing to eat!’

I sat up. Still
groggy, I said, ‘There’s food. The cook made so many
things for you. Let’s go downstairs.’

W
e had hot
samosas, jalebis, masala cheese toast and hot chai.

‘This isn’t
healthy,’ Aarti said. We sat on the dining table, facing each
other.

‘Delicious in
the rain though,’ I said.

I switched on the
lights as dusk fell. She ate in silence, digesting the food as well
as what had just happened. I wanted to discuss the afternoon, but
curbed my desire to blab about everything. Girls don’t like to
discuss intimate moments, especially if you probe them. However, they
also get upset if you don’t refer to the moments at all.

‘Quite
wonderful,’ I said.

‘The samosas?’
she said, even though she knew my context.

‘No, the
jalebis,’ I said.

She threw a piece of
the curvy yellow sweet at me.

‘The best
afternoon of my life,’ I said, after our laughter subsided.

‘That’s
what all men want,’ she said.

I realised I
shouldn’t discuss the topic any longer, lest she fall into a
bout of self-inflicted guilt-induced depression.

‘Hey, you said
Raghav's expose is affecting your family?’ I said.

‘Well, you
know the CM fired Shukla, right? He didn’t resign or go to jail
himself as he said on TV. The party told him to,’ she said.

‘I know,’
I said.

She poured herself a
second cup of tea. I imagined her living with me. How we would wake
up in the morning and have tea in bed. Maybe we would have it on the
terrace. Or in the lawns. I visualised us sitting on cane chairs and
chatting for hours. I imagined her as the principal of the GangaTech
College of Hospitality. The students would totally flirt with

her, given she would
be the cutest principal in history. I would expel them if they tried
to ...

‘Are you
listening?’ She tapped her cup with a spoon.

‘Huh?’ I
said. ‘Sorry. Yeah, the party removed Shukla-ji. So?’

‘The party
doesn’t have a strong candidate for elections next year,’
Aarti said.

‘They will
find someone,’ I said. I finished my tea and kept the empty cup
on the table. She poured me some more. I almost went into a dream
sequence again. I controlled myself and listened to Aarti.

‘They need a
candidate who can win. They can’t lose this city. It is the
party’s prestige seat,’ she said.

‘What
difference does it make to you?’    

‘They want
dad’ Aarti said.

‘Oh!’ I
said. I had forgotten about Aarti’s grandfather’s
connection to the party. He had won the seat for thirty years.

‘Yeah. Now
dozens of politicians visit everyday, begging him -Pradhan-ji, please
contest.’

‘He doesn’t
want to?’

Aarti shook her
head.

‘Why?’ I
said.

‘He doesn’t
like politics. Plus, his health is an issue. He can’t walk or
stand for a long time because of his knees. How will he campaign and
do those rallies?’ Aarti said.

‘True.’

‘That’s
not all,’ Aarti said, you haven’t heard the most
ridiculous suggestion.’

‘What?’

‘That I
contest,’ Aarti said. She laughed hard, as if she had cracked a
great joke. I didn’t find it funny.

‘That’s,’
I said, ‘something to think about.’

‘Are you
crazy?’ Aarti said. ‘Me and politics? Hello? I thought
you know me. They clipped my wings from flight attendant to guest
relations. Now they will make me visit a thousand villages and sit
with seventy-year-old men all day?’

‘It’s
power, Aarti,’ I said. ‘Means a lot in this country.’

‘I don’t
care about power. I don’t need it. I am happy,’ Aarti
said.

I looked into her
eyes. She seemed sincere.

‘Are you happy
with me?’

‘I will be. We
have to resolve some stuff, but I know I will be,’ she said,
more to herself than to me.

She left soon after
that. Her parents had visitors, more party officials, who also wanted
to meet Aarti. I dropped her home, so I’d get some more time
with her.

‘You’ll
be alone on the way back,’ Aarti pointed out.

I shrugged.

‘Thanks for a
lovely day,’ she said as we reached her house.

‘My pleasure,’
I said. ‘Have a good dinner with the politicians.’

‘Oh, please.
Shoot me in the head,’ she said. Both of us stepped out of the
car. I leaned on the bonnet as she walked towards her gate.

‘Sure you
don’t want to become an MLA?’ I said from behind.

She turned to me.
‘No way,’ she said. ‘Maybe my husband can, if he
wants to.’

She winked at me
before skipping towards her house.

I stood there,
surprised. Was she implying something? Did she want me to be the MLA?
More specifically, did she want me to be her husband?

Aarti, what did you
say?’ I said.

But she had already
gone into her house.

                                                            ♦

I hadn’t known
that the Varanasi Central Jail had private rooms. I went to meet
Shukla-ji in his cell. As requested, I brought him three boxes of
fruits, two bottles of Johnnie Walker Black Label and a kilo each of
salted cashewnuts and almonds. The cop who frisked me for security
collected the parcel and promised to deliver it. I thought the MLA
would meet me in the waiting area, but I could go right up to his
cell.

He sat in his room,
watching a small colour TV and sipping cola with a straw.

‘Not bad, eh?’
he said. He spread his hands to show me the fifteen-by-ten-feet cell.
It had a bed with clean sheets, a desk and chair, closets and the TV.
Yes, it didn’t seem awful. It resembled a government guesthouse
more than a jail. However, it couldn’t be compared to
Shukla-ji’s mansion.

‘It’s
terrible,’ I said.

He laughed.

‘You should
have met me in my early days in politics,’ he said. ‘I
have slept on railway platforms.’

‘I feel so
bad,’ I said. I sat on the wooden chair.

‘Six months
maximum,’ he said. ‘Plus, they get me everything. You
want to eat from the Taj Ganga?’

I shook my head.

‘How is the
car?’ he said.

‘Great,’
I said.

‘College?’
he said.

‘Going okay.
We have slowed down a bit. We don’t have the capital,’ I
said.

‘I will
arrange the money,’ Shukla-ji promised.

‘Take it easy,
Shukla-ji. Keep a low profile. Things can wait,’ I said.

He switched
off
the TV. ‘Your friend fucked us, eh?’ Shukla-ji said.

‘He’s
not my friend. And he is finished now. And you will be back,’ I
said.

‘They won’t
give me a ticket next time,’ he said pensively.

‘I heard,’
I said.

‘From who?’
Shukla-ji looked surprised.

I told him about my
friendship with Aarti, the DM s daughter, and what she had told me. I
didn’t tell him about her relationship with Raghav, nor did I
give details about her and me.

‘Oh yes, you
have known her for long, right?’ he said.

‘School
friend,’ I said.

‘So her father
won’t contest?’ Shukla-ji said.

I shook my head.
‘Neither will the daughter. She hates politics. So maybe you
still have a chance,’ I said.

‘Not this
time,’ Shukla-ji dismissed. ‘I have to wait. Not right
after jail.’