Revolution 2020 (35 page)

‘Are we done?’
I said.

That cut his smile
short. In an instant, he stood up and left.

My cellphone beeped.
I had an SMS from Sailesh, marketing head of
Dainih.

Raghav accepted
the offer. He joins tomorrow.

Great, thank you
very much, I replied.

Hope
our
association
becomes
even
stronger.
Thank
you
for
booking
Sunday,
texted Sailesh.

The arrival of a
black Mercedes in the
Dainik
office caused a minor flutter
among the guards. A big car ensures attention. I stepped out and put
on my new sunglasses. I went to the receptionist in the lobby.

‘I am here to
meet Raghav Kashyap,’ I said, and gave her my business card.

Tlie receptionist
couldn’t locate him. Sailesh saw me from the floor above, and
came running down the steps.

‘Gopal bhai?
You should have informed me. What are you waiting here for?’

‘I want to
meet Raghav,’ I said.

‘Oh, sure,’
he said, please come with me.’

We walked up to
Raghav’s cubicle. An IT guy crouched under his desk, setting up
his computer. Raghav had bent down as well to check the connections.

‘You re-joined
here?’ I said.

Raghav turned
around. ‘Gopal?’ he said and stood up.

‘I had come to
the marketing department and saw you.’ I turned to Sailesh.
‘Thank you, Sailesh.’

‘Okay,’
Sailesh said. ‘See you, Gopal bhai.’

After he left,
Raghav said, ‘It’s strange. The editor called me himself.
I had no money anyway. Thought I will rejoin until I have enough to
relaunch
Revolution
20201

‘Can we go for
a cup of tea?’ I said.

‘Sure,’
he said.

We walked up to the
staff canteen on the second floor. Framed copies of old newspaper
issues adorned the walls. Dozens of journalists sat with

their dictaphones
and notebooks, enjoying evening snacks. I could tell Raghav felt out
of place.

‘I’m
used to a small office now,
Dainik
is huge,’ he said. He
bought two plates of samosas and tea. I offered to pay but he
declined.

‘Cog-in-the-wheel
feeling, eh?’ I said.

‘Not only
that. The stuff we did at
Revolution
2020
,1 can
never do that here,’ he said.

The stuff you did at
your paper, I wanted to tell him, led to premature bankruptcy.
However, I hadn’t come here to put him down.

‘It’s
nice to have a job. Plus, you like journalism,’ I said.

‘That’s
why I took it. A six-month trial for now.’

‘Only six
months?’

‘They want me
to edit other people’s stories. It is supposed to be more
senior in title, but I like being a reporter. Let’s see.’

‘A job pays
the bills. Of course, it helps to be employed if you want to get
married,’ I said.

Raghav laughed. We
hadn’t talked about personal stuff for years. However, he
didn’t doubt my goodwill. That’s the thing with Raghav.
He could unearth the biggest scams, but at another level, he trusted
people so easily.

‘Who’s
getting married?’ Raghav said, still laughing.

‘You and
Aarti. Aren’t you?’ I said. I reminded myself I had to
smile through this.

Raghav looked at me.
I had never discussed Aarti with him. In fact, I hadn’t
discussed anything with him in years.

‘I hope I can
talk to you as a friend? We were once, right?’ I said. I took a
bite of the samosa and found it spicy as hell.

Raghav nodded on a
sigh. ‘Things aren’t going so well between me and Aarti.’

‘Really?’
I faked surprise.

‘I haven’t
spoken to her in weeks’

‘What
happened?’ I said.

Raghav squirted
tomato sauce over his samosa.

‘Its my fault.
When the paper started, I didn’t give her enough time. Soon, we
drifted apart. The last couple of months she seemed so disconnected,’
Raghav said.

‘Did you guys
talk about it?’ I said.

‘No, we
planned to, but didn’t,’ he said.

‘She loves you
a lot,’ I said.

‘I don’t
know,’ Raghav said. He twirled his samosa in the sauce without
eating it.

‘She does. I
know her from childhood, Raghav. You mean everything to her.’

Raghav seemed
surprised. ‘Do I?’

‘She wanted to
marry you, isn’t it?’

‘At the wrong
time. Look at me, I am nowhere with respect to my career,’
Raghav said.

‘Your career
is different from others. You can't measure it in money. In terms of
helping people, you are doing quite well.’

‘I blew that
too,’ Raghav said.

‘You are fine.
You are a sub-editor at a big paper. And if you marry Aarti, you can
go far.’

‘What do you
mean?’

‘You know
there’s pressure on Aarti’s family to enter politics?’
I said.

Raghav kept quiet.

‘You do,
right?’

‘I heard,’
he muttered.

‘So, Aarti’s
father can’t and Aarti won’t. Son-in-law, maybe?’

Raghav looked up,
intrigued. ‘How you think, man!’

I rolled my eyes.
‘I’m not smart. So, I have to make up for it in other
ways’

‘You are
not
smart?’ he said.

‘You do love
her?’ I asked.

‘Things aren’t
okay between us,’ he admitted.

‘You can fix
them I am sure. After all, your charm worked on her the first time,’
I said.

Raghav gave a shy
smile.

‘Don’t
call her. Go meet her at the hotel. Take an entire day off for her.
That’s all she wants, your time and attention. She’ll
return your love ten , times over,’ I said, looking sideways.

Raghav kept quiet.

‘Promise me
you will go,’ I, said and extended my hand.

He shook my hand and
nodded. I stood up to leave. I repeated Shukla-ji s line.

‘Life may not
offer you the same chance twice.’

Raghav walked me to
my car. He barely noticed the car though.

‘Why are you
doing this for me?’ he asked.

I got into the car.
I rolled down the window. ‘Aarti is a childhood friend. Besides
...’

‘Besides
what?’ Raghav said.

‘Everyone has
to do their bit,’ I said as the driver whisked me away.

                                                           ♦

I didn’t keep
in touch with Raghav after that. He called me many times. I either
didn’t pick up or pretended to be busy. One of the times I did
pick up, Raghav told me he and Aarti had started talking again. I
told him I had inspectors in my office and hung up.

I had sworn on
Baba’s soul that I would never call Aarti. She didn’t
either, apart from a single missed call at 2 a.m. one morning. I
called her back, since technically, I had not initiated the call. She
did not pick it.

The missed call and
call-back drama between men and women almost deserves its own user
manual. I gathered she had made the call in a weak moment, and left
her alone.

I invited the boring
consultants back for the BMS programme talks. The plan made a lot of
sense. We started the process to expand into business studies. We had
a new set of government people who had to approve our plans, and thus
a new set of palms to be greased. We knew the business would be
profitable. Millions of kids would be tested, rejected and spat out
of the education system every year. We had to keep our net handy to
catch them.

I spent more time
with the college faculty, and often invited them home in the
evenings. They worked for me, so they laughed at my jokes and praised
me every ten minutes. I couldn’t call them friends, but at
least they filled the empty space in the house.

Three months passed.
We launched the BMS programme and, with the right marketing, filled
up the seats in a matter of weeks. I rarely left the campus, and did
so only to meet officials. Meanwhile, the case against Shukla-ji
became more complex. He told me the trial could take years. He tried
for bail, but the courts rejected it. Shukla-ji felt the CM had
betrayed him, even as the party sent feelers that he could be
released from jail provided he quit politics. I went to meet him
every month, with a copy of the GangaTech Trust accounts.

One day, Raghav
called me when I was at home. I didn’t pick up. Raghav
continued to call. I turned the phone silent and kept it aside.

He sent me a
message: 'Where r u Gopal, trying 2 reach u.'

I didn’t reply
at first. I wondered if his repeated attempts meant trouble, like he
had discovered another scam or something.

I texted: In
meetings. Wassup?

His reply hit me
like a speeding train.

Aarti n I getting
engaged. Wanted to invite u 2 party nxt Saturday.

I couldn’t
stop looking at this message. I had wanted this to happen. Yet, it
hurt like hell.

Unfortunately, I'm
not in town. But congratulations!!!: I sent my response, wondering if
I had put one exclamation mark too many.

Raghav called me
again. I avoided his call. He tried two more times, when I finally
picked up.

‘How can you
miss our engagement?’ he said.

‘Hey, am in a
faculty meeting,’ I said.

‘Oh, sorry.
Listen, you have to come,’ Raghav said.

‘I can’t.
I am leaving for Singapore to explore a joint venture,’ I said.

‘What, Gopal?
And why don’t you ever call back? Even Aarti says you are too
busy whenever I ask about you.’

‘I am really
sorry. I am busy. We are doubling our student intake in the next two
years,’ I said.

‘You will miss
your best friends engagement? Won’t she be upset?’
‘Apologise to her on my behalf,’ I said.

Raghav let out a
sigh. ‘Okay, I will. But our wedding is in two months. On the
first of March. Please be in town then.’

‘Of course, I
will,’ I said and circled the date on the calendar.

‘I’ll
let you attend to your staff. Take care, buddy,’ Raghav said.
Instinctively, I composed a congrats!’ message to Aarti and
sent it. She did not reply.

I looked around my
big house as empty as my soul.

On 1 March, I booked
a room at the Taj Ganga. The fourth-floor room had a little balcony,
with a view of the hotel pool and lawns. I had tossed the SIM card
out of my phone two days ago. I had told my staff I had to go out of
town. I stayed in my room the entire day. I came to the balcony at
eight in the evening. In the faint light of dusk, I read the card
again.

Mrs and Mr Anil
Kashyap Invite the pleasure of your company For the wedding of their
beloved son

Raghav

with

Aarti

(D/O Mrs and Mr
Pratap Brij Pradhan, DM)

At 8 p.m.

On 1March 2010.

Poolside Lawns,

Taj Ganga,
Varanasi

I could see the
wedding venue downstairs. The entire garden area was littered with
flowers and lights. Guests had started to arrive. In one corner the
DJ was setting up the dance floor and testing music tracks. Along one
side of the lawn were the food counters. Kids were jumping about on
the two ornate chairs meant for the bride and groom on the small
stage. The actual wedding pandal, where the ceremony would be held,
was covered with marigold flowers.

I stood there in
silence, listening to the shehnai, faintly audible on the fourth
floor.

The
baraat
arrived at 9 p.m. Raghav sat on a horse. The DJ increased the volume
of the music. I watched from above as Raghav’s relatives danced
in front of the horse. Raghav wore a cream-coloured
bandhgala
suit. Even though I hate to admit it, he looked handsome even
from this distance. I would have worn something more expensive, but
still not looked so regal. I scolded myself for making comparisons
again.

Aarti arrived at the
venue at nine-thirty. She walked slowly to the stage. A gasp of
wonder shot across the crowd as they saw the most beautiful bride
they had ever seen in their life.

She looked like an
angel, in an onion-colored lehnga with silver sequins. And even
though I didn’t have binoculars, I could tell she looked
perfect. During the ceremony, cousins gathered around Raghav and
Aarti. They lifted the couple, making it difficult for them to
garland each other.

I couldn’t
bear it after the
jai-mala
ceremony. I had wanted to see Aarti
as a bride, but I did not have to watch the whole wedding live.

I came back into the
room, shut the door and drew the curtains. I switched on the TV at
full volume to drown out the sounds coming from outside.

I replaced the SIM
in my phone. Messages popped in one after another as the phone took
its first breath in days.

I had forty messages
from the faculty, ten of them from the dean himself. Most of them
talked about various issues in the college. Raghav had sent me five
messages, asking me if I had received the card. I couldn’t tell
how many missed calls he might have made. One message startled me the
most. It came from Aarti. It said:

Come. But only if
you want to.

I thought about
replying, but remembered that she wont exactly be checking her phone
on stage.

I called the dean.

‘Where are
you, Director Gopal?’ the dean said in a high-pitched voice.
‘We are so worried.’

‘Dean
Srivastava ... Dean Srivastava ...’

'Gopal he said,
sensing the tension in. my voice.

'Get me out of
here,’ I broke down completely.

‘Where are
you? Where are you?’

"Taj Ganga, 405
... I don’t want to be here.’

‘I am coming,’
he promised.

In an hour I was
seated beside the dean in his car and on my way back to campus.

‘So, what were
...’ he began but fell quiet. He understood, after one look at
my face, that I didn’t want to talk.