Half Girlfriend (18 page)

the whole country would be by now.'

‘Please help me, sir,’ I said.

Verma sir became silent.

‘Why are you quiet?’ I asked, worried his silence meant I was a

hopeless case.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’m wondering how to go about this.’

‘Should I quit?’ I said.

He shrugged. My heart sank.

‘Give it a few weeks. We can decide then. Now stand up and speak

your fears out loud.’

‘Fears?’

"Yes, open up and face them. In English.’

I stood in front of the empty classroom. Verma sir took one of the

student’s seats.

'Hi, I am Madhav Jha, and I have a fear of speaking in English.’

‘Good. And?’

'I have a fear that my school will not manage itself and close

down.’

‘Go on. One more fear.'

'I have a fear that I will never be able to get over someone I loved

deeply.’

22

I returned to Dumraon after my Patna weekend and resumed duties

at the school. I also coordinated with MLA Ojha’s office for the

whitewash.

Later in the week I sat with a paint contractor in the staffroom. My

phone buzzed.

‘Madhav? Hi, this is Samantha from the Foundation.’

‘How are you, Samantha?’ I said, pronouncing the words just right,

as Verma sir would have liked.

‘I am great. How are the preparations going?’

‘We are working on it,’ I said slowly.

‘Super. Listen, two of my colleagues are in Patna later this week. I

think you should meet them.’

I tried hard to understand Samantha’s words, given their breakneck

speed.

‘Meet whom?’

‘My seniors from the New York office. They have a say in grants.

You should network with them.’

‘Network?’

English is hard enough to decode, but when these Americans speak

it, it is impossible.

‘Get to know them. Can you come?’

‘I am in Patna on weekends anyway.’

‘How about Saturday then? We have field visits later, but you can

meet us for breakfast.’

‘Sure,’ I said.

‘We will be at the Chanakya Hotel. Eight o’clock?’

‘Eight is fine.’

‘See you on Saturday,’ she said and hung up.

The paint contractor looked at me in awe. I had managed an entire

conversation in English.

‘What?’ I said to him.

He shook his head and took out the shade card.

*

I entered the Chamkva lobby at 7.47 a.m. I mention the exact time

because it changed my life. A minute earlier or later and things would

have been different. Samantha and her colleagues entered the hotel

lobby at 7.51.

‘This is Chris and that’s Rachel,’ Samantha '.aid. I shook hands

with the neb. who wanted to help the poor.

'Breakfast?’ Samantha said.

We entered the hotel coffee shop at 7.55. The breakfast buffet

consisted of over twenty dishes. I loaded my plate with toast, porridge,

fruit, paranthas, poha and idlis. I ordered a masala dosa at the live

cooking counter.

‘Madhav here runs a village school,’ Samantha said. She nibbled at

her jam and butter toast.

‘You look really young,’ Chris said, opening a bottle of mineral

water.

‘It’s my mother’s school. I help out,’ I said.

I told them about the Dumraon Royal School.

‘Seven hundred children, negligible fee, no state support.

Amazing,’ Chris said.

‘I saw the school. The staff and owners are really dedicated. It’s

sad they don’t have basic facilities or the funds to grow,’ Samantha

said.

My American friends ate little; the buffet was wasted on them.

I refilled my plate thrice. I wanted to eat enough so I didn’t need

food the entire day. We finished breakfast at 8.27 a.m.

‘We better get going. Our project is in Monger. Four hours away,’

Samantha said ‘You mean Munger?’ I said.

‘Hey, sorry, I murder the names of places here,’ Samantha giggled.

I have murdered English all my life
, I wanted to say.

We stood up to leave, Samantha and Rachel collected their

handbags. Chris called the driver.

I looked around. I wondered if I should have eaten some more.

That was when I spotted a tall girl, her back to me, at the other end

of the coffee shop. Her long hair came down to her waist. She wore a

mustard salwar-kameez. If she wasn’t tall, I wouldn’t have noticed her.

If we had started breakfast a few minutes later, I would still be eating

and wouldn’t have noticed her. It had to be just that moment. At 8.29

a.m., when I stood up to leave, was exactly when she had stood up to

leave as well. She picked some files from her table.

‘Lovely meeting you, Madhav.’ Chris said. He extended his hand.

I nodded, my eyes still on the girl, as I shook hands with him.

‘All okay?’ Chris said. He turned his head to see what had

distracted me.

‘Huh? Yeah, I am fine,’ I said, my eyes still on the other end of die

room.

She turned towards the exit. The waiter followed her to get a bill

signed. She stopped and turned towards the waiter. I saw her face for

half a second. Yes, it was her.

‘Riya Somani,’ I said.

‘Who?’ Chris said. Samantha and Rachel turned towards her, too.

Before any of us could react, Riya had left the restaurant.

‘Is she someone famous?’ Rachel said.

‘Excuse me, I need to go,’ I said. My fingers trembled as I shook

Samantha’s hand.

‘Have a good trip to Munger,’ I said.

‘We’ll see you soon in Dumraon,’ Samantha said, her voice

cheerful.

‘Yeah,’ I said absently. I walked towards the door. I wanted to run

towards it but I didn’t want to create a scene. I came to the lobby, but

there was no sign of her.

Did I hallucinate?
I asked myself. No, I had seen her. The walk, the gait, the face—there is only one Riya.

I rushed to the foyer and just about saw her leave in an Innova.

She had sunglasses on.The car windows were rolled up.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ a young hotel staff member at the concierge

desk asked me.

‘The lady who left just now. You saw her? Mustard salwar-

kameez?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where did she go?’

'We don’t know, sir. It’s a private taxi.’

‘Will she be back?’

‘Not sure, sir. Sorry. Is there a problem, sir?’

I shook my head. I walked back into the hotel, wondering what to

do next.

I went to the coffee shop again and found the waiter.

‘You just gave a bill to a lady.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘She might be an old friend of mine. Can I see it?’

The waiter looked at me with suspicion.

‘I was just here with the foreigners. We sat there,’ I said, pointing

to our table. If you are seen hanging out with white guys, people

assume you are not a bad person.

The waiter went to the cash counter. He brought back the bill. I

saw her signature. Yes, I had bumped into Riya Somani, after all.

‘231,’ the waiter said.‘She signed the bill to her room.’

‘She is staying here?’ I said.

‘Of course,’ the waiter said. He looked at me as if I was a certified

idiot.

I heaved a sigh of relief. I came to the reception and enquired

about a guest named Riya in 231.

‘Yes, it is a company booking. She is here for a week.’

‘When will she come back?’

‘Can’t say, sir. If you leave your name and number we can ask her

to contact you.’

I wasn’t sure if Riya would do that. If I had to meet her, I had no

choice but to wait. I decided to skip my English classes. I sat in the

lobby, my eyes fixed on the entrance.

I waited for twelve hours.

I didn’t allow myself to use the bathroom lest I miss her again. I

didn’t eat food or drink water all day either. My eyes scanned every car

arriving at the hotel.

At seven in the evening, Samantha, Chris and Rachel returned

from their trip. Their faces had turned black with Bihar’s dust. They

looked exhausted.

‘Madhav?’ Samantha said, surprised.

‘Oh, hi,’ I said, pretending to be equally astonished. ‘I came for

another meeting.’

‘At Chanakya itself?’ Samantha said.

I nodded. Chris said he needed a shower or he would die. They

left me in the lobby and went up to their rooms.

At 8.30 p.m., an Innova pulled into the front porch. Riya stepped

out of it. My heart started to play hopscotch. A part of me wanted to

run away. It shuddered at the thought of facing her. Another part had

made me sit here without a break for twelve hours.

She didn’t notice me. She went up to the reception.

‘231, please,’ she said. The receptionist turned towards the key

rack.

I walked up to the reception. ‘Excuse me, which way is the coffee

shop?’ I said. I had to make it seem like she saw me first. That’s Riya.

She had to find me. If I found her, she might just run away.

‘Oh my God,’ Riya said. ‘Madhav Jha.’

‘Riya... Riya Somani, right?’ I said.

‘Wow, you have difficulty recollecting my name, Madhav Jha!’

‘Riya Somani,’ I said, giving up ah pretence of indifference. The

receptionist seemed surprised at the happy coincidence right at her

counter.

Riya took her keys and we stepped away from the counter.

‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘Wow, I still can’t get over it.

Madhav Jha.’

‘I am a Bihari. This is Patna. My hometown is not far away. I

should ask you what you are doing here.’

‘Work. My company sent me.’

‘Work?’

‘Yeah, you didn’t think I could work?’ Riya said.

‘No, nothing like that. What kind of work? You moved to London,

right?’

Riya looked around the hotel lobby.

‘Let’s talk properly,’ she said. ‘You had dinner?’

‘No.’

‘Hungry?’

I could have eaten the flowers in the lobby at this point.

‘A little bit,’ I said.

‘Let’s go to the coffee shop.’

‘Okay, but can I use the toilet first?’ I said.

*

We entered the coffee shop. The waiter from the morning was still

on duty. He gave me an all-knowing srnile. I smiled back.

‘You found madam,’ he said. Ass, I thought.

‘What?’ Raya said.

‘Nothing. Yes, for me and madam. Table for two, please. ’

23

We sat at a corner table and had our first meal together in three

years.The effect some people’s mere presence can have on you is

indescribable. Everything on offer in the rather ordinary evening

buffet tasted divine. The salty tomato soup was the best I had ever

had. The matar-paneer tasted like an award-winning chef had made it.

The lights from the traffic jam visible outside the window looked like

fireflies. I kept silent, worried I would say something stupid to upset

her or, worse, make her run away.

‘You’ve become so quiet,’ she said.

‘Nothing like that,’ I said. I looked at her. She looked, if possible,

even more stunning than she had been in college.

‘So. tell me, what have you been up to?' she said.

Over the next ten minutes, I told her about my life since college.

‘You run a school. And Bill Gates is visiting it,’ she said. ‘Wow.’

‘He’s visiting many places.’

‘Come on, don’t be modest.You are doing something so different

from the rest of our batchmates.’

‘I’m a misfit, I guess. Who leaves HSBC to come to Dumraon?’ I

said.

‘Cool people,’ Riya said. Our eyes met. I tried to read her,

considering she had said so little about herself. I couldn’t find

anything too different, apart from a touch of maturity. I wanted to ask

her about her past few years. However, I wouldn’t push it.

‘How’s Rohan?’ I said.

‘You remember his name? So what was that “Riya, Riya Somani,

right?” business in the lobby?’

I smiled. She had caught me red-handed.

‘Rohan should be fine,’ she said.

‘Should be?’

‘I don’t know. He must be.’

‘Rohan is your husband, right?’

She became quiet.

'You want anything sweet? They have kulfi and gulab jamun,' I

said, desperate to change the topic.

‘We got divorced,’ she said in a calm voice, as if she had expressed

her sweet-dish preference.

I didn’t have anything to say. Apart from shock, I felt a warm

tingle at the back of my neck.

Had I just felt happy at what she said? I clenched my teeth. I didn’t

want my smile to leak out.

Oh my God, that is the best news I have heard in years
, a cheerful voice spoke inside my head. Even my soul jumped about in

excitement.

I tried to look as serious as possible.

‘That’s terrible,’ I said at last.

She nodded.

‘Sweet dish?’ I said in a soft voice. Well, the occasion did deserve

something sweet.

She shook her head. She looked upset, on the verge of tears. I

wanted to touch her hand, but I restrained myself.

‘What happened?’ I said, my tone as genuine as possible.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

I nodded.
Typical Riya
, I thought.

‘Can we talk about something else, please?’ she said.

‘Yeah, sure. What?’

‘Anything?’

‘You want kulfi?’ I said.

‘No, Madhav, I don’t want kulfi. Or anything else to eat. Can you

talk about something else, please?’

I thought I had talked about something else.
Doesn’t the topic of

kulfi count as something else? Well, who can argue with girls?