When a Lawyer Falls in Love
© Amrita Suresh, 2011
First published 2011
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior permission of the author and the publisher.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any living or dead person or events or places will be entirely co-incidental.
ISBN 978-81-8328-307-6
Published by
Offshoots,
An Imprint of Wisdom Tree,
4779/23, Ansari Road,
Darya Ganj, New Delhi-2
Ph.: 23247966/67/68
[email protected]
Printed in India at Print Perfect
For Ma.
For being my conscience and my punching bag.
On numerous occasions.
For Archu.
For her drive…courtesy which she drives
me up the wall!
and
For A.R. Rahman, in whose music the Divine resides.
No disputes allowed.
Preface
I wrote this book as a bespectacled twenty-two-year-old whose idea of recreation at that time was staring out of a balcony while preparing for some competitive exams soon after graduation. In between some heavy duty studying, I would snatch some time to do some light-hearted writing.
Having studied in an all-girls environment right through school and college (not to mention growing up with two sisters), the potential of my interaction with the opposite gender was as much as meeting someone from Pluto. Ok, make that Mars. After class twelve, a close friend of mine joined a reputed law school. Her narrations of life on campus coupled with my interest in the subject of law saw me through the novel.
This novel hopes to capture on paper those loony moments spent in college and any attempts to find a definite geographical location or time setting can drive you in a tizzy. After all, like any college student will tell you, memories of life on campus last forever and are indeed timeless. Much like the fictional characters in this book.
One
‘Idiot, hurry up, I’m getting scared!’ said a chubby male figure, standing with a torch in the middle of a graveyard. Dressed in shocking white pyjamas and a grey sweater, with thick glasses perched on his nose, Ankur Palekar hardly looked like an apparition that one might encounter in a graveyard. If not for the fact that he was a third year law student, the rather diminutive, baby-faced young man could pass off for a school boy—the kind who might sit in the first row and readily lend the teacher his pencil and erasers.
The only other person in the graveyard was six-footer Vyas Rao, a rather good-looking law student with a pleasant smile and long hands that hung quite awkwardly about him. He crouched, looking for something with all the seriousness of an archaeologist on an expedition.
‘I can’t believe your creepy girlfriend leaves you notes here,’ said Ankur, with a mixture of annoyance and amazement as the light from his torch moved from one grave to another, ‘I mean, are you sure she doesn’t suffer from a mental disorder?’
‘I guess she does…she’s been going out with me for the past two years,’ said Vyas, straightening up and flashing a nervous smile at his friend. Ankur was hardly amused. In fact he now had serious doubts about his friend’s sanity and quite frankly, his own.
‘See the thing is, she was going out of town, but wanted to leave me a birthday gift here,’ Vyas explained.
‘Wow! How romantic! What did she gift you, a plot in this graveyard?’ butted in Ankur, shivering in thin cotton pyjamas that were hardly any protection against the chill.
‘Found it!’ said Vyas suddenly. He was holding a slender box, which he shook excitedly, ‘I think it’s a pen!’
Ankur smiled weakly. He didn’t quite fancy receiving gifts lying around in graveyards. The pen could well belong to a writer who was presently an occupant of one of the coffins and who harboured hopes of getting published in his afterlife.
‘Okay, hurry up! Applying for the post of a night watchman here isn’t my immediate career goal,’ said Ankur, as he led the way out of the graveyard.
The night sky with its scattered stars shone down at the two would-be lawyers as they made their way briskly out of the cemetery. Ankur, who at the moment had an expression appropriate for a graveyard, was actually a jovial, cherubic kind of person with a mouth set in a permanent grin. Even his female juniors at college wanted to mother him. And those cheeks! Regardless of age or gender, people felt compelled to spontaneously reach out and pinch them.
