Authors: Chetan Bhagat
brought back a tray of snacks comprising laddoos, kaju kadi, bhujia
and almonds.
'Please don't be formal,’ my mother said.
Ojha sat on the sofa across us, a fixed grin on his face.‘Rajkumar ji
came to me for assistance. I’m sorry but I explained my helplessness,’
he said.
'We understand,' my mother said.
‘Well, I have a proposal. You can help me. In return, maybe
something can be done for the school.'
‘Is it legal?’ my mother said.
Ojha laughed hard. His plate shook in his hands,
‘Nothing like that at all. In fact, a chance to make Dumraon and
your school proud.’
Mother and i waited. Ojha put his plate down.'Frankly, it’s a big
headache for me. I need your help as I’m stuck,’
‘What’s the matter?’ my mother said.
‘Have you heard of Bill Gates?’
'Bilgate? No. Is it a place?’ my mother said.
‘No, a person. Some videshi who makes computers or something.’
‘Mr Bill Gates, chairman of Microsoft. They make computer
software,’ I said.
My mother and Ojha looked at me as if I were a genius, ‘You know
this person?’ my mother said.
‘The richest guy on earth,’ I said.
‘Yes, that’s what I have heard, He has lots of money,’ Ojha said,
‘Sixty billion dollars,’ I said, 'How much?’ Ojha said.
‘Two lakh forty thousand crore rupees,’ I said.
Ojha’s eyebrows went up an inch.
‘What?’ my mother said. ‘So much? And how do you know all
this?’
‘Read it in a magazine. It’s common knowledge, Ma,' I said.
‘Hmm... Mr Ojha.You were saying?' my mother said,
‘Well, this Gates is coming to India, To Bihar, in fact.'
‘Has he gone mad? He makes so much money so he can come visit
Bihar?' she said.
Ojha laughed. 'I don’t know much, Rani Sahiba. He has some
NGO.They are bringing him here,'
‘Why?’
‘Maybe he will see the interiors of Bihar and feel richer.’
My mother and Ojha laughed. Ojha left the room and came back
with a letter. He handed it to me. The letter had come from the state
ministry of rural welfare:
To all MLAs/District Collectors/DCPs,
The
state ministry of rural welfare is pleased to inform that eminent
entrepreneur and philanthropist Mr Bill Gates will be visiting Bihar
along with delegates from the Gates Foundation from 15 April to 22
April 2009. The state government would like to extend its support to
his team. In that regard, request your good offices to provide all
cooperation as needed. Suggestions for places Mr Gates could visit
or any events he could grace as chief guest on his week-long trip to
Bihar are welcome and encouraged.
Please contact the relevant officials in the rural welfare ministry
with any queries or suggestions.
Signed,
Bhanwar Lai
Minister for Rural Welfare State Government of Bihar
The other side of the page carried the Hindi translation of the same
letter.
‘So how can we help you?’ my mother said, after reading it herself.
‘Rani Sahiba, if Bill Gates comes here, my constituency will be in the
news. Will be good for Dumraon.’
‘You will get press coverage. The minister will give you a pat on
the back. Say that, Ojha ji,’ my mother said.
He couldn’t suppress a smile,
‘Well, that too,’ he said.‘But ultimately it is good for our town.’
My mother knew the political game. Ojha wanted a Lok Sabha
ticket in the next election. He had to do things to get noticed.
'What exactly would you like us to do?’ I said,
’Organise a school function. Invite him as the chief guest. Through
me, of course. I’ll ask the ministry to put the school visit on his
agenda.’
‘No. no, no...’ Ma threw up her hands in the air.
‘What, Rani Sahiba?’ Ojha said.
‘I can barely run the school. I don’t have the resources to organize
a function. Who will pay for the arrangements?’
‘We will,’ Ojha said promptly. ‘I will pay for the function.’
‘I thought you didn’t have any funds,’ I said.
The MLA looked at me.
‘See, son, I am trying to help you. But there has to be something in
it for me.’
‘So you pay for the function. People come, attend and leave. What
do we get in return?’ I said.
‘Your school's name will be in every paper,’ he said.
‘We don’t need publicity, we need toilets,’ I said.
‘We will arrange some makeshift toilets for the day.’
‘Exactly. You are only interested in that day. What about us after
that?’
My mother stood up to leave.
‘We will whitewash the school for you,’ Ojha said.
I looked at my mother. Perhaps there was something here.
‘Toilets?’ I said.
‘Over there,’ Ojha said pointed to a door in the right corner.
‘No, I don’t want to use the toilet. I meant, what about the school
toilets?’
‘That’s a big project. The school doesn’t have plumbing.
Everything needs to be done from scratch. Too expensive and too little
time to do that.’
‘That is what we need. Toilets, electricity and a new roof,’ my
mother said.
‘For just one function I can’t justify so much. I will whitewash the
school, make all the arrangements for the function.’
‘Sorry, MLA ji,’ my mother said.
We walked out of the house.The MLA called me aside.
‘Think about it,’ he whispered in my ear.‘Rani Sahiba never trusts
me. But you know how important this Gates is. A lot of important
people will come.’
I walked up to my mother.
'Let's do it,' I said.
'Who'll do all the work?' she said.
'I will. Don't you want a whitewash?'
She looked at me.
'Please, Ma.'
She gaev a brief nod.
'Okay?' I said.
'This is the first time I've seen a sparkle in your eye since you came
back. So yes, okay.'
I gave Ojha a thumbs up.
19
I prepared a proposal for Ojha as per his directions. We proposed
Bill Gates make a visit to a self-run, not-for-profit school. We would
celebrate the annual day of the Dumraon Royal School with Mr Gates
as chief guest. The MLA forwarded the proposal to the rural ministry.
‘They have ninety requests,’ Ojha said, ‘and he can only visit ten
places during his trip. So they will shortlist and let us know.’
'I didn’t realize there would be so much competition,’ I said,
surprised.
‘I’m going to Patna tomorrow. Come with me and I’ll introduce
you to the ministry people.You can persuade them.’
I accompanied the MLA in his lal-batti car on the three-hour ride to
Patna. We reached the state government offices. I met Mr Shyam
Kaushal, a middle-aged official in the rural welfare ministry, in his
dusty office. He wore a grey safari suit that I think all government
employees get free with their offer letters.
‘Headache.This whole Gates trip is a headache,’ he said and held
his head.
He showed me the file of requests. Alongside, another fat file
contained press requests for interviews, communication with the
foundation and papers on various official government functions being
planned.
‘Why do we go crazy over these white guys visiting India?’ Mr
Kaushal said.
‘Because of this white guy, my school will get a whitewash,’ I said.
‘Do you speak good English?’ he said. ‘Because they will call you
many times.’
‘I manage,’ I said.
‘Manage means what? When he comes, who will talk to him?’
‘I will.’
‘What will he see in your annual day? It’s a Hindi-medium school.
The entire programme will be in Hindi, right?’
I kept quiet.
‘See.’ He opened the file. ‘There is this school in Patna that really
wants him. They will do a skit in English for him. About the invention
of computers and the role of Microsoft.’
I saw the request. It had come from the Delhi Public School in
Patna.
‘This is an English-medium school. He can find this anywhere.
What’s so Bihari about it?’ I said.
‘Well, it is convenient. We can take him to DPS straight from Patna
airport.’
‘Mr Kaushal, I think Mr Gates wants to see the real Bihar. The posh
English school you will take him to means nothing.’
‘So what to do?’
‘Bring him to Dumraon Royal. Don’t worry, we will do a dance or
something without words.’
Mr Shyam Kaushal remained hesitant. Government employees are
the lowest risk-takers on earth.
Finally, he shook his head. ‘Something needs to be there in
English. His team has told us.They want Mr Gates to engage with the
event.’
‘Okay, we’ll do something in English.’
‘What?’
‘I'll figure it out,’ I said.
A knock on the door startled us. MLA Ojha came in. Mr Kaushal
stood up automatically. Government employees have a servile switch
in their brains. It makes them grovel in the presence of netas.
‘Listen to us poor Dumraon people at least once, Kaushal ji,’ Ojha
said.
Mr Kaushal folded his hands. ‘Trying, Ojha sahib. Goras want to
see the real Bihar but in English. I'm going crazy.’
Ojha slapped my back.
‘Rajkumar ji went to the best English college in India. He will
handle them well.’
I smiled. I did go to the best English college, but my English still,
well, sucked.
*
My cell phone rang in the middle of a maths class. The call came
from an unknown number. The class III students looked at me. I held
a chalk in one hand and the phone in the other. I cut the call and
continued to teach.
'Twenty-three multiplied by twelve,’ l wrote on the squeaky
blackboard.
The phone rang again.
‘Do this sum, I’ll be right back,’ I said and stepped out of class.
‘Is this Mr Madhav Jha?’ asked a female voice in an unfamiliar
accent when I picked up the call.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘This is Samantha Myers from the Bill Gates Foundation, calling
from New Delhi.’
‘What?’ I said. I tried to figure out her words despite the strange
accent. ‘Hello. Myself Madhav. What can I do for you?’
I kicked myself for saying ‘myself Madhav’.
‘I am part of Mr Gates’s advance party. We would like to inspect
your school before we decide our itinerary.’
She spoke so fast I couldn’t understand most of what she said.
‘Yes, Mr Bill Gates. Is he coming?’
I had not had any update since my visit to Patna a week ago.
‘Well, I need to visit you first.’
*
‘Your school is...’ Samantha paused as she hunted for the right
word.
‘Not in great condition?’ I said.
I had taken her on a school tour.
The plaster was coming off the walls. The noise of kids repeating
mathematical tables drowned out our conversation. Students peeped
out of classroom windows. They stared at the alien creature with
golden hair and white skin.
‘No. I wanted to say quaint.’
‘Quaint?’ I said. I didn’t understand the word.
‘Different. Different in a charming sort of way.’
I failed to understand the charm of a school with leaky roofs and
furniture that was falling apart. White people think differently, I guess.
We came to the staffroom. She greeted my mother and the other
teachers. Tarachand ji brought us two cups of tea. Samantha noticed
the damp walls.
‘We will whitewash everything.The local government has assured
us,’ I said.
‘Yeah, that is fine. Can we sit outside? I’d love to get some sun,’
Samantha said.
We walked out, carrying a classroom chair each. We sat in the
fields facing the school entrance. The February sun felt warm. It made
Samantha’s golden hair shine even more. She was pretty. Why had she
left the comforts of her own country to roam dusty villages in India?
‘This is gorgeous,’ she said, looking at the rice crops sway in the
air.
‘Mr Gates will like it? We can arrange the annual-day function in
the fields.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he will.’
‘We’re a little short on funds. But we will do our best to put up a
good show.’
‘Sure. Are there enough toilets for the dignitaries?’
‘Well,’ I said, wondering what to say. In some ways, the entire field
was available as a toilet.
‘Western-style toilets, I meant.’ Samantha laughed. ‘Most of the
delegation is from the US.’
‘We will have temporary ones put up,’ I said.
‘You don’t have them at the school?’
I looked at her. She seemed more curious than judgemental. I
decided to be honest.
‘We are a poor school. We don’t have the money to do many
things. We are doing this to get noticed so some government officials
might help us.’
Samantha frowned.
‘We will, however,’ I said,‘do a good show. The local MLA is with
us.’
‘I believe you will. Since you mentioned lack of funds, would you
like to be considered for our grants programme?’ Samantha said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Our foundation gives grants, or a sum of money, to deserving
social projects.We had you as a tourist stop for Mr Gates, but you are
doing social service, too.'
‘Well, it is service for us. My mother has given her entire life to this