Revolution 2020 (15 page)

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Authors: chetan bhagat

BOOK: Revolution 2020
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‘It’s
those people, who want to buy the land,’ my uncle said. ‘We
know they are with you.’

‘What are you
talking about?’ I said.

My uncle folded his
hands. ‘Don’t do this to us,’ he said.

‘I am not
doing anything. Some people came to me to buy the land too. But I
told them I cannot sell it,’ I said.

‘Really?’
Ajay said.

‘How can I?
It’s disputed, right?’ I said.

‘But the
people who came to us don’t want to buy. They want us to settle
the bank cases, settle the dispute and give it all to you,’
uncle said.

“That’s
strange. So now the question is do you value the land more or Bittoo?
Correct?’

‘Shut up,’
Ajay said. ‘We know it is you who wants to buy it.’

‘I don’t
have money to buy food. How can I buy land?’ I scratched my
head.

‘Who are these
people?’ my uncle said.

‘I don’t
know. You can go to the police,’ I said, ‘but they sound
like crooks’

‘Avoid the
police,’ my aunt said.

‘They can do
anything. Bittoo is a little, young thing, it won’t be
difficult to hide his body. Anyway, it is Varanasi, dead bodies are
easy to dispose of,’ I said.

Ajay jumped up from
the sofa and grabbed my collar. ‘I know you are involved. Your
father was straight, you are not,’ he said, his eyes wild.

‘Leave my
collar, brother, right now,’ I said in a calm but firm tone.

Ajay’s mother
tugged at her son’s hand. Ajay released me.

‘What are they
offering?’ I said.

‘Eight lakhs,'
my uncle said.

‘That’s
not bad,’ I said.

‘That’s
a fraction of the market price.’

‘But more than
double of what you offered me,’ I said.

‘You
are
involved.’ Ajay glared at me.

‘Go home,
taya-ji, and think it over. We all love Bittoo more than the land.’

‘Why is this
happening to us?’ my aunt exclaimed at the door.

‘It’s
all karma. Taya-ji will explain it to you.’ I smiled as I shut
the door.

                                                           ♦

It took three nights
without Bittoo to make my relatives realise the value of the
eight-lakh offer. I received a call from the MLAs office when Mr
Ghanshyam Mishra and Mr Ajay Mishra signed the papers.

‘Sharma here,
PA to Shukla-ji’ the caller said. ‘MLA sahib has invited
you for dinner tonight.’

‘Cheers’
Shukla-ji said as we clinked our whisky glasses together. Bedi, Sunil
and I sat with him in his huge living room. It had three separate
seating areas with plush velvet sofas, coffee tables and elaborate
lamps and chandeliers. Three waiters served kebabs, nuts and
mini-samosas in napkin-lined china plates. I noticed pictures of
Shukla-ji’s family on the wall.

‘Nikhil and
Akhil, my sons,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘Both are studying in
the US. Will keep them away for a while.’

Some said Shukla-ji
was divorced. Others said he had another family in Lucknow. I didn’t
feel the need to know.

‘Land is a big
step,’ Bedi said grimly. ‘But there’s a long way to
go. We are meeting the VNN people next week. Meanwhile, we should
take care of the trust formalities.’

Bedi explained how
VNN, or the municipality, would give us the crucial
agricultural-to-educational land re-zoning permit and clear plans so
we can commence construction.

‘Get the
re-zoning done soon. I’ve not paid eight lakhs for the land to
grow rice,’ Shukla-ji said.

‘We will,’
Bedi said. ‘They know who is behind this. You are not a small
entity, sir.’

‘That is
true,’ Shukla-ji said in a dismissive tone to Bedi for stating
the obvious. ‘But we have to take care of VNN, no?’

‘Yes, of
course,’ Bedi said. ‘It’s re-zoning. The land value
multiplies five times. Not cheap.’

‘How much?’
Shukla-ji said.

‘Of course,
the rate is different for you. I’d imagine ten lakhs.’

‘What?’
Shukla-ji said, shocked.

Bedi finished his
drink in a large sip. ‘It’s thirty acres, sir. For a
normal person it would be forty.’

‘See, that is
why people like me have to come to education. What is happening in
this country?’ Shukla-ji said.

'DM has to bless it
too. But Pradhan is honest. However, if it is for a college, and VNN
recommends, he will approve it,’ Bedi said.

‘How honest?'
Shukla-ji said.

‘Honest enough
to not take money. But not so honest that he will stop others from
taking it.’

"That’s
good. If you are honest, keep it to yourself’ Sunil said,
speaking for the first time that evening.

‘Sunil,’
Shukla-ji said.

‘What, sir?’

‘You leave
now. I will send something lor you. But we will take care of this
project from now,’ Shukla ji said.

‘Sir, but...’
Sunil said.

‘You have done
your job,’ Shukla ji said and handed him a bottle of Johnnie
Walker Black Label.

Sunil took the cue.
He thanked him for the bottle, bowed as much as the human spine
allowed and left.

‘I know DM
Pradhan, his daughter is a friend,’ I told Shukla-ji.

‘Not much of
an issue there. Still, good to have his blessings,’ Shukla-ji
said.

‘Sure,’
I said.

Shukla-ji went
inside his bedroom. He returned with a heavy plastic bag. He gave it
to me.

‘What’s
this?’ I said.

‘Ten lakhs,’
he said, ‘for VNN.’

‘Ten lakhs?’
I said. My hands trembled as I held the heavy bag. I had never seen,
or lifted that much money.

‘It’s
just a number,’ the MLA said. ‘Bedi-ji, help the boy. And
help yourself too. I don’t like empty glasses.’

‘Sure,
Shukla-ji,’ Bedi said and called for the waiter.

‘Are people in
education happy with money or they want other stuff too?’
Shukla-ji asked Bedi.

‘Like what?’
Bedi asked.

‘Girls, if
they want to have a good time. I have a man, Vinod, who can arrange
that,’ MLA Shukla said.

‘Oh, will let
you know. Money usually does the job though,’ Bedi

said.

‘Good.’
He changed track. ‘Can Gopal work from your office for a while?
Until he has his own?’

‘Of course,
Shukla-ji.’

The waiters ran to
refill our glasses.

‘The trust
papers are ready. We can sign them this week. But one question,
Gopal,’ Bedi said.

‘What?’
I said.

‘What’s
the name of the college?’ Bedi said.

I hadn’t
thought about it.

‘I have no
idea. Maybe something that signifies technology.’

‘And our
city,’ Shukla-ji said. ‘Let me tell people I did this for
them when the time comes.’

‘GangaTech?’
I said.

Shukla-ji patted my
shoulder. ‘Well done. I like you, Gopal. You will go very far.’
Shukla-ji personally filled my glass to the brim with whisky.

I fipped through the
documents Bedi had plonked on my desk. 1 sat in an  extra room
at his education consultancy office.

' Pay to incorporate
a trust?’ I said.

'Yes, to the
Registrar of Companies. Every trust has to he registered there ,'
Bedi said.

' But why pay a
bribe? We are opening a non-profit trust,' [ said.

' We are paying a
bribe because if we don’t the Registrar will stall our
approval.’ He was irritated.

I sighed in
disbelief.

‘Anyway, forty
thousand maximum. Now, can you please sign here?’ Bedi said.

Over the next two
hours I signed on every page of the six copies of the forty-page
GangaTech education Trust incorporation document. I cracked my
knuckles while Bedi hunted up some more stuff for me to sign.

‘What’s
this?’ I said when he handed me a stack of letters. Each letter
had a thick set of files attached to it.

‘Your
application to the University Grants Commission, or the UGC, to open
a college. The files contain details about the proposed college.’

I went through the
files. It had sections such as course descriptions, facilities
offered and faculty hiring plan.

‘It is
standard stuff, taken from earlier applications,’ Bedi said.

I signed the
letters. ‘So, they send an approval or what?’ I said.

‘They will
send a date for inspection of the site. Once they inspect, they will
give you an in-principle approval to start construction.’

‘I imagine we
have to pay somebody to clear the inspection?’ I said.

Bedi laughed. ‘You
learn fast. Of course, we pay. A thick packet to every inspector.
However, right now we pay to obtain an inspection date. First things
first.’

My eyebrows went up.
‘Joking, right?’ I said.

‘No, any
government work, especially in education, requires a fee. Get used to
it.’ He then listed out the palms we had to grease in order to
open a place to teach kids in our country. Apart from the UGC, we had
to apply to AICTE, or the All India Council for Technical Education.
They clear the engineering colleges. Also, every private college
requires a government university affiliation. For that, we had to get
approvals from the vice-chancellor of a state university. Shukla-ji’s
connections and a generous envelope would do the trick.

‘Otherwise the
vice-chancellor can create a lot of hassle,’ Bedi said,
speaking from past experience.

‘So, who are
these UGC and AICTE inspectors, anyway?’ I said. ‘University
lecturers from government colleges are appointed as inspectors. Of
course, since it is such a lucrative job, the lecturers have to bribe
to become one,’ Bedi said.

‘Whom?’

‘Senior
management at UGC, or someone in the education ministry. Anyway, that
is their business. We have to focus on ours. Please inform Shukla-ji
we will need funds for all this.’

I nodded.

‘Don’t
forget the VNN meeting,’ Bedi said. ‘And definitely don’t
forget the bag.’

‘I can’t
wait to get rid of it,’ I said. ‘It is scary to keep so
much cash in the house.’

‘Don’t
worry,’ Bedi said. ‘One VNN visit and it will all be
gone.’

                                                             ♦

We reached the
Varanasi Nagar Nigam office, opposite Shaheed Udyaan, at six in the
evening. The official had told us to come after working hours. If you
are willing to pay, government offices can do more overtime than
MNCs.

‘Welcome,
welcome. I am Sinha,’ a man greeted us in the empty reception
area. He led us upstairs. We climbed up two floors of the dilapidated
building. Sinha, deputy-corporator, had known Shukla-ji for over a
decade and referred to him as his brother.

‘If my big
brother wants it, consider it done,’ Sinha said. He didn’t
mention that big brother would need to give little brother a gift.

I took out the maps,
property documents and our formal application. Sinha pored over them
with a sonorous ‘hmmm.

‘We can only
start when we have the land re-zoned,’ I said.

‘Re-zoning is
tough,’ Sinha said. ‘Higher-ups have to approve.’

‘How long will
it take?’ I said.

‘You look
young,’ Sinha said.

‘Excuse me?’
I said.

‘Impatience,
the first folly of youth. You are opening a college, what is the
hurry?’

‘Its still
going to take years. But I want to get all the approvals done,’
I said.

Bedi signalled me to
be quiet. Sinha laughed.

‘Don’t
you have to get the building plan approval too?’ the
deputy-corporator said.

‘Yes,’
Bedi said. ‘Can your junior officers handle that?’

‘Send the
documents to me, send everything home.
Everything

,
Sinha said, stressing the last word.

I got the drift. I
patted the plastic bag I had kept on the floor.

‘I have
brought something here,’ I said.

'In the office?’
Sinha stood up hurriedly. ‘Are you crazy?’

I had brought the
money to show how serious we were about getting the job done.
Obviously, I didn’t expect him to take cash over the counter.

‘Bedi sir,
teach him how it is done. He will be a disaster,’ Sinha said,
as he led us out of the office.

I hugged the heavy,
red plastic bag closer.

‘How much, by
the way?’ Sinha enquired as we came outside.

‘Ten,’ I
said.

‘Not for
re-zoning and building plan,’ Sinha said.

‘It’s a
college, please be reasonable,’ I said.

‘I am being
reasonable. But ten is too less. Fifteen,’ Sinha said.

‘No concession
for Shukla-ji?’ I said.

‘This is
already half of what I take,’ Sinha said.

‘Eleven?’
I said. I was bargaining with him as if I was buying a T-shirt. Of
course, the thought of the amount involved numbed me.

‘Twelve and a
half. Done! Do not embarrass me before my big brother,’ Sinha
said.

I didn’t argue
further. I had to make arrangements for the remaining cash.

‘You are a
good bargainer,’ Bedi said to me while dropping me off at
Shukla-ji’s residence.


‘You smash
it,’ said Shukla-ji, handing me a coconut at the entrance of
the college site. A crowd of his sycophants surrounded us.

The
bhoomi
pujan
ceremony marked the beginning of construction. I had
run around for three months to obtain the two dozen approvals to make
this day possible. The UGC and AICTE in-principle approvals had
finally arrived. The final inspections would be conducted when the
college was ready to open. For now, we had permission to begin
construction.

The only other thing
we needed were god’s blessings. Fortunately, that didn’t
require a bundle of cash.

I held the coconut
in my hand and looked around. Aarti hadn’t arrived.

‘Do it, son,’
Shukla-ji said.

I couldn’t
wait for her any longer. I guess the day did not mean as much to her
as it did to me.

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