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Authors: chetan bhagat

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I didn’t
really understand what he said but I figured he knew more than me.
Besides, he seemed to be on my side.

‘But how will
we get this?’ I said. My uncle had been sitting on the property
for years.

‘You leave
that to us,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘You tell me this, can you
run a college?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, because
you will be the face and name of the college. I will be a silent
partner,’ he said.

‘But how?’
I said. ‘I have no experience. I have no money.’

‘Mr Bedi will
give you the experience. I will give you the money for construction
and everything else.’

I
am
missing
something
here.
Why
had
the
world
suddenly
decided
to
help
me?
What

s
the
catch?

Sunil understood my
dilemma.

‘Shukla-ji
sir, if you could tell him your terms. And of course, whatever you
feel is good for me,’ Sunil said and gave an obsequious grin.

'I don’t want
anything. Open a college, it is good for my city,’ Shukla-ji
said.

Nobody believed him.
Yet, we had to indulge him. ‘Sir, please,’ Sunil said,
‘that won’t be fair.’

‘I’ll
think about my terms. But tell me, boy, are you up to it?’
Shukla-ji looked at me. I think I grew older by ten years under that
gaze.

I hid my hesitation
as much as possible. ‘How about we get the land and just sell
it?’ I said.

‘It is tough
to sell the land with all the past cases,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘It
is one thing to get possession for you, quite another to find a new
buyer.’

‘Exactly. The
cases, how do we fix them?’ I said.

Shukla-ji laughed.
‘We don’t fix cases. We fix the people in the cases’

The MLA had laughed,
but his eyes showed a firm resolve. He seemed like the kind of guy
who could fix people. And more than acquiring the land, I wanted to
teach my relatives a lesson.

‘If you can
fix them, you can take whatever share you want,’ I said.

‘Fifteen acres
for me,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘I will keep it until the area
gets re-zoned to commercial or residential. We will make the college
in the other fifteen.’

‘How much
ownership in the college do you want?’ I said.

‘Whatever you
want. College is a trust, no profit there,’ Shukla-ji said with
no particular expression.

‘Really?’
I said, surprised.

‘It is true,’
Bedi spoke after a long time. ‘Every college must be
incorporated as a non-profit trust. There are no shareholders, only
trustees’

‘Why would a
private player open a non-profit college?’ I said.

Bedi took a deep
breath before he proceeded to explain. ‘Well, you take a
profit. The trustees can take out cash from the trust, showing it as
an expense. Or take some fee in cash, and not account for it. Or ask
a contractor to pay you back a portion of what you pay them. There
are many more ways ..

Bedi continued
speaking till I interrupted him. ‘Wait a minute, aren’t
these illegal methods?'

Everyone fell
silent.

Shukla-ji spoke
after a while. ‘I don’t think this boy can do it. You
have wasted my time.’

Bedi and Sunil hung
their heads in shame. I had let them down with my curiosity about
propriety.

‘I am sorry, I
am only trying to understand,’ I said.

‘What?’
Bedi said, his tone irritated.

‘Are you
telling me that the only way to make money from a college is through
illegal methods? Sorry, I am not being moral, only questioning.’

‘Well,’
Bedi said, ‘you are not actually supposed to make money.’

‘So why would
anybody open one?’ I said.

‘For the
benefit of society, like us politicians,’ Shukla-ji said.

Everyone but me
broke into laughter. I guess the joke was on stupid, naive me.

‘Listen,
Gopal,’ Sunil said, ‘that is how the rules are. They are
stupid. Now you can either figure out a way around them, or remain
clueless. There has to be a trust, you and Shukla-ji sir will be
trustees. Bedi will explain everything.’

Bedi gave me a
reassuring nod. Yes, the man knew the system, and how to bend it.

‘Mr Bedi, also
explain to the boy not to question legality much. Education is not
the business for him then,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘Of course,’
Bedi smiled. ‘Shukla sir, taking money out of the trust is the
least of the problems. What about all the permissions and approvals
required? Every step requires special management.’

‘So that’s
what the boy has to do. I am not visible in this. I am only the
trustee, to benefit society,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘Do what?’
I said.

‘Don’t
worry, I will explain it,’ Bedi said. ‘You need Varanasi
Nagar Nigam’s approval for the building plans, AICTE approval
for the college. There are inspections. Everyone has to be taken care
of. It is standard.’

‘Bribes?’
I said.

‘Shh!’
Shukla-ji reprimanded. ‘Don’t mention all this here. You
do your discussions outside. Leave now.’

We stood up to go.

‘Stay for a
minute, Gopal,’ the MLA said.

‘Yes?’ I
said after Sunil and Bedi had left the room.

‘Will you do
what it takes?’ Shukla-ji said, ‘I don’t want to
waste my time otherwise. Tell me now if you want to quit.’

I paused to think.
‘It’s not easy,’ I admitted.

‘It is never
easy to become a big man in life,’ Shukla-ji said.

I kept quiet.

‘You want to
be a big man, Gopal?’

I continued to look
down. I examined the black and white patterns on the Italian marble
floor.

‘Or you want
to remain an average kid while your friends race ahead of you.’

I swallowed the lump
in my throat. I looked up to make eye contact with him.

‘You have a
girlfriend, Gopal?’

I shook my head.

‘You know why?
Because you are a nobody.’

I nodded. The memory
of Aarti and Raghav kissing each other passionately in the BHU car
park flashed through my mind. If I had made it to BHU and Raghav had
gone to Kota, would her decision have been different? I saw
Shukla-ji. Every inch
of
him felt wrong. But he offered me a
chance, A job, an admission, a fucking chance, that is all one needs
in life sometimes.

'I'll do it. It
isn’t like I am the only guy in India paying bribes,’ I
said. ‘But I want to be big.’

Shukla-ji stood up.
He came around his desk and patted my back. ‘You are already a
big man,’ he said, ‘because you have me behind you. Now
go, and leave your harami uncles details with my secretary outside.’

‘What about
the money I owe your people,’ I said.

‘Two lakhs?
It’s a joke for me, forget it,’ Shukla-ji said. He went
back to his desk and opened a drawer. He took out two bundles of

ten-thousand rupees
and tossed them at me. ‘One for Sunil, the oilier for you,’
he said.

‘Why for me?’
I asked.

‘For running
my college, Director sir.’ He grinned.

I accepted
Shukla-ji’s ten thousand bucks, if only to pay for basic
necessities. I allowed myself one indulgence - I took Aarti out for
dinner to Taj Ganga, the most expensive restaurant in town.

‘Are you
sure?’ Aarti asked again, as we entered the coffee shop at the
Taj. ‘We could always eat chaat at the ghats.’

She wore a new full
length, dark blue dress her relatives had sent from the US. She had
matched it with fake, understated gold jewellery purchased from
Vishwanath Gali.

‘My treat,’
I said.

The waiter pulled
out a chair for Aarti. She thanked him as we sat down. Aarti wanted
to watch her weight but eat chocolate cake too. We decided to have
soup and salad for dinner so we could save calories for dessert.

She stirred the hot
soup with a spoon. ‘Sorry, but how did you get the money for
this? Baba left you a huge will?’

I laughed. ‘No,
he left me loans’

‘Then?’

‘I am starting
a new business.’

‘Smuggling?’
Aarti inclined her head to one side.

‘Shut up. I am
opening a college.’

‘What?’
Aarti said, loud enough for the entire place to hear.

‘Sorry,’
she whispered. ‘Did you say you are opening a college?’

‘Yeah, on my
disputed land.’

‘How? Isn’t
the land stuck? And how will you make the college?’

‘I have
partners. Good partners’

‘Who?’
Aarti said.

‘I’ll
tell you. We are finalising plans’

‘Really?’
Aarti said. ‘Oh, so you are serious?’

‘Yeah, it is
fifteen acres right outside the city. If we settle the dispute and
get re-zoning done, it is ideal for a college,’ I repeated
Bedi’s words. ‘Wow,’ Aarti said and chuckled. ‘You
are hitting the big time, Gopal.’ She meant it as a joke, but
it hurt a little. ‘Why? You didn’t think I could?’

‘No, I didn’t
mean that,’ Aarti said. ‘I am just... surprised.’

‘I have to do
something
in life.’

‘Sure. You
will do more than something. What about your uncle?’ ‘We
are trying to reach an amicable settlement with him,’ I said.
Shukla’s men, who handled the loan-shark business, had
initiated the settlement process with Ghanshyam taya-ji. Amicable is
not the word one could use to describe their methods.

They had visited my
uncles house thrice. The first time they emptied a bottle of goat’s
blood in his front balcony. The second time they stabbed all the
sofas and beds in the house with an assortment of knives. The third
time, when they finally spoke, they brought out guns and proposed to
buy off my uncles share of disputed land for eight lakh rupees.

I did not want to
give Aarti all these extra details.

‘What kind of
college?’ she said.

‘Engineering.’

‘Cool,’
Aarti said.

‘If I want to
be a big man, I have to do big things,’ I said.

‘You were
always a big man to me, Gopal. You know why?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you
have a big heart.’ Aarti lightly stroked my hand on the table.

My heart, big or
small, skipped a beat at her touch. I quickly launched into small
talk. ‘How are things with you? How’s college?’


B-o-r-ing.
But
I
am
joining
an
aviation
academy.

‘What’s
that?’

‘They train
you to become a flight attendant. The classrooms look like the
interiors of a plane.’

‘Really?’
I mused, ‘There is so much happening in education.’

‘Yeah, most of
us only get to be students. Not everyone can open a college,’
she teased.

I smiled. ‘Long
way to go. It’s difficult,’ 1 said.

‘You have
faced more difficult things in life before. You will make it,’
Aarti said confidently.

‘You think
so?’ I said.

She nodded. Her nod
meant the world to me. I wanted to ask her to date me again. Somehow
I thought with my new college plan she might be inclined to say yes.
Of course, only my brain comes up with such flimsy theories.

‘How’s
Raghav?’ I asked, to bring myself back to reality.

‘A bit low,
actually,’ she said.

I felt a warm glow.
‘Really? Why?’ I expressed fake concern.

‘He lost
university elections for general secretary.’

‘Oh,’ I
said. ‘Does it matter?’

‘It did to
him. He lost because he wouldn’t horse-trade with other
hostels. He wanted to fight fair.’

'I’m not
surprised he lost,’ I said, spearing a carrot.

'He believes one has
to be fair and win. Else, what is the point of winning?’ Aarti
said.

'Life doesn’t
work like that, does it?’ I said, chewing slowly.

‘I don’t
know. That is how it should work,’ Aarti said. ‘He’s
going to contest again next year.’

‘Doesn’t
he do too much?’ I said.

‘Oh yeah,
between his BTech course, magazine and elections, he hardly has any
time for me.’

‘And you like
that?’

‘No, but I
have no choice. If it makes him happy, so be it.’

We finished our
dinner. The chocolate cake arrived. Her eyes lit up. She pulled the
plate towards herself. ‘Don’t steal my cake,’ she
said and grinned.

‘Raghav is
such a lucky guy to have you, Aarti,’ I said.

‘Thanks,’
she said and gave a shy smile.

‘Aarti, can I
ask you something?’

‘Yeah?’
She looked at me, her spoon poised above the cake.

‘Nothing,
leave some cake for me if you can,’ I said and signalled for
the bill.

                                                        ♦

The doorbell woke me
at midnight. I rubbed my eyes and reached for the door, still half
asleep. My uncle, aunt and their son, my thirty-year-old cousin Ajay,
stood outside.

‘Ghanshyam
taya-ji?’ I said. ‘What happened? Please come in’

My relatives sat on
the torn sofa in the front room. They didn’t speak for five
minutes.

‘You have not
come so late because you missed me, right?’ I said.

‘Why are you
doing this to us?’ Ajay exploded.

‘Doing what?’
I said. ‘Do you want water? Tea?’

‘No,’ my
uncle said. ‘Gopal, pay attention to your karma. God is
watching. You will have to pay one day. Do not do this to us.’

‘Do what?’
I said. And why had they come at this time of the night?

‘Bittoo hasn’t
come home from nursery school,’ my aunt said and burst into
tears. This time they seemed real, unlike the crocodile ones at
Baba’s funeral.

They had come home
because Bittoo, Ajay’s four-year-old son whom I had seen only
once (in his mother’s lap, at my father’s funeral), was
missing.

‘Oh, that is
terrible,’ I said. ‘And this is about my karma?’

BOOK: Revolution 2020
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