Revolution 2020 (21 page)

‘You guys know
each other?’ Ashok said, one eyebrow raised.

‘He
interviewed me,’ I said.

Raghav seemed
surprised by my terse statement. He realised I didn’t want to
establish any prior connection.

‘What’s
the matter?’ Raghav said, as he noticed the serious mood in the
room.

Sailesh recounted
our earlier discussion.

‘Apologise?’
Raghav said. ‘Gopal, you want me to apologise to you?’

‘Do you guys
know each other from before?’ Ashok said, catching on to the
undercurrents.

‘We went to
the same school,’ I said.

‘And sat at
the same desk. Close friends,’ Raghav said. ‘Why don’t
you tell them that?’

Why
don
’
t
I
tell
them
you
took
my
girl,
you
asshole,
I wanted to say.
Or
that
you
are
so
jealous
of
my
success
that
you
planted
a
stinker
article?

‘These
corruption allegations are unfounded. And there is no need to mention
them in a college profile,’ I said.

‘I had to be
balanced,’ Raghav said. ‘Shukla is a known crook.’

‘Nonsense,’
I said, my voice loud.

‘Mr Gopal,
let’s not raise our voice. Raghav, you don’t have to be
an activist in every story,’ Ashok said.

‘Sir, I hardly
wrote anything. I didn’t probe the building violations in the
college.’

‘There are no
violations. All our plans are approved,’ I said.

‘And how did
Shukla get these approvals? Anyway, I didn’t mention any of
that.’

‘Even the
Ganga Action Plan is old news, Raghav,’ Ashok said. ‘Unless
you have new, solid evidence, no point repeating it. We can’t
keep spoiling someone’s name.’

Raghav ran his
fingers through his hair distractedly. ‘Fine, I won’t do
it until I find something solid. May I leave now?’

‘You haven’t
apologised to Gopal sir,’ Sailesh said. ‘GangaTech’s
our client.’

‘Editorial
only apologises for genuine errors,’ Raghav said.

‘Or if your
chief editor tells you to,’ Sailesh said, his voice firm.

Raghav looked at
Ashok. Ashok kept quiet.

‘Sir, how can
you ...’ Raghav began.

‘Raghav, let’s
get it over with. I have to sign off the next edition in one hour,’
Ashok said, turning back to his computer screen.

Silence for ten
seconds or so.

‘I’m
sorry,’ Raghav said on a sigh.

‘It’s
okay,’ I said, but Raghav had already stomped out of the room.

You and Raghav had
an argument?’ Aarti said. She had called me late at night, her
preferred time.

‘He told you?’
I said.

‘I suggested
that the three of us meet up and he almost bit my head off,’
she said.

‘No way! I
like your head,’ I said.

‘The hotel
opens next week. I thought I would take permission and show you guys
the place beforehand. It is so beautiful,’ she said.

‘You can show
him separately’ I said.

‘What
happened?’ Aarti said. ‘You met him, right? Why doesn’t
anybody tell me anything?’

‘It was
work-related, don’t worry. All settled now.’

‘If you say
so. Can you come around tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good night,
Director saheb!'

                                                            ♦

I waited for Aarti
at the Ramada Hotel entrance. The security wouldn’t let me in.
Aarti arrived and flashed her staff card and I followed her in. She
wore a maroon Banarasi sari, her uniform. ‘Aarti Pratap Pradhan
- Guest Relations Trainee,’ her badge said.

‘Wow, you look
so different,’ I said.

‘Different?
Formal? Is that all you say?’ she mocked.

‘No ... You
look great. But I didn’t expect to see you in a sari,’ I
said.

‘Didn’t
expect what? That your stupid classmate from school could get a real
job?’ she wiggled her eyebrows, hands on hips.

‘At the staff
canteen’ she said.

We took
stainless-steel elevators to the third floor. She had a master key
card to every room.

‘I am not
supposed to bring anyone to the hotel, by the way,’ she
confided.

‘So?’ I
said, wondering if it meant we should leave.

‘I am telling
you how important you are. I am risking my job for

you.’

‘If they fire
you, I will hire you.’

Our eyes met. We
burst into laughter. We had not shared such a moment in years. We
used to laugh like this in school - in sync and for the silliest of
things - a burping kid in class, her mimicking the teachers, me
pretending to sleep during History period.

She opened room
number 3103. I had never seen anything so luxurious in my whole life.
‘Cool,’ I said.

‘Isn’t
it?’ She sat on the large bed with its six cushions of bright
red silk. ‘This bed is heaven! Sit and see.’

‘Are you
sure?’ I said.

‘Sit, no,’
she said.

We sat next to each
other, me on the edge of the bed.

‘It’s
nice,’ I said, as if I was a mattress inspector by profession.

‘It’s
more comfortable lying down,’ she said.

I looked at her,
aghast. She saw my expression and started to laugh, holding her
stomach.

‘I am not
saying let’s,’ she said. ‘Since when did you become
so serious?’

We spent the next
twenty minutes playing around with light switches and bathroom taps.
I had never been with her in a solitary place like this. It was going
to my head. And I sensed a slight tension in the air. Maybe the
tension was only on my side.

‘Let’s
go.’ I checked my watch. I had to be back in the campus soon.
‘Okay,’ she said and shut the washbasin tap.

We stepped out of
the room. A man in a crisp new suit saw us come

out.

‘Aarti?’
he said, surprised.

The colour vanished
from Aarti’s face.

‘Sir,’
she said. I read the tag on the man’s suit. Binayak Shastri,
Banquet Manager.

‘What are you
doing here?’ he said.

‘Sir,’
she said, ‘this is Mr Gopal Mishra. He is a client.’

‘We haven’t
opened yet,’ he said, still suspicious.

‘Hi,’ I
said, offering him my hand. ‘I am the director of the GangaTech
group of colleges’

He shook my hand.

‘We are
thinking of doing a college event here’ I said.

We walked towards
the elevator. I was hoping he would ask no further questions when he
said, ‘What kind of event?’

‘A dinner for
the top companies that we call for placement,’ I said.

Aarti avoided eye
contact with everyone.

‘Sure, we will
be happy to assist you,’ Binayak said, as he handed me his
card.

I guessed that our
staff-canteen lunch plan had to be dropped.

‘I am running
late, but my team will get in touch with you,’ I said as we
came to the lobby.

Aarti gave me a
professional smile and disappeared behind the reception desk. Binayak
chose to wait with me till my car arrived.

‘How come you
wanted to see the rooms?’ Binayak asked.

‘We will have
guest faculty. Maybe from abroad,’ I said. At that moment,
thankfully, my driver drove into the porch.

‘Yeah. You
are
quite stupid,’ I pretended to agree, which made her punch my
arm playfully.

We entered the hotel
lobby. Construction workers were using noisy polishing machines on
the already shiny Italian marble. Smell of paint pervaded the air.
She took me to a restaurant with plush velvet chairs.

‘This will be
our bar - Toxic.’

The hotel would
ensure that even as people visited the city to wash their sins,
they’d commit new ones. We walked around the hotel to see the
rest of the facilities.

‘So, why won’t
people tell me anything?’ she said.

‘What?’
I said.

‘What happened
between Raghav and you?’

‘The college
didn’t like a story the newspaper did. He apologised. End of
story.’

I gave her a
two-minute summary of what had happened, making her swear that she
would never tell Raghav I told her. She told me she hadn’t even
told Raghav she was meeting me, so there was no question of telling
him anything. That’s what human relationships are about -
selective sharing and hiding of information to the point of crazy
confusion.

We found ourselves
in an ethnic-theme restaurant. ‘Aangan, for Indian cuisine,’
she explained. She took me to the gym next. I saw the treadmills with
TVs attached to them.

‘Imported?’
I said.

She nodded.
‘Sometimes I feel so guilty,’ she said. Girls can handle
simultaneous multi-topic conversations with ease.

‘Why?’

‘I spoilt your
friendship with Raghav,’ she said.

‘That’s
not true,’ I said.

She sat down on a
bench-press. I took a balancing ball and used it as a stool.

‘All three of
us used to
befriends
in our childhood. What happened?’
she said, her eyes filling up.

‘Life,’
I said. ‘Life happened.’

‘Without me,
things wouldn’t be so bad between the two of you,’ she
said.

‘No, that’s
not true. I didn’t deserve you. Raghav had nothing to do with
it,’ I said.

‘Never say
that,’ Aarti said, her voice echoing in the empty gym. ‘It’s
not that you don’t deserve me. You are a great guy, Gopal. And
we click so well.’

‘But you don’t
feel that way about me, I know, I know. I am hungry. Where are we
having lunch?’

‘It’s
not that,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Its not like
that with girls. It’s sometimes about timing, and sometimes
about how much you push.’

‘I didn’t
push enough for a relationship?’ I said.

‘You pushed
too much,’ she said and wiped her eye.

I didn’t know
if I should console her. One, she belonged to someone else. Two, we
sat at her workplace.

I picked up a
20-pound dumbbell instead. I found it heavy. However, I pretended to
lift it easily in front of Aarti. Raghav could probably lift twice as
much, I thought.
Why
did
I
always
compete
with
Raghav
on
every
damn
thing?

‘I am sorry,’
I said. I’m sorry if I put too much pressure.’

‘You came at a
time when I didn’t feel ready for anything. You wanted it too
much. You wanted to lean on me. I didn’t think I could be a
strong enough support.’

‘What is this?
My performance evaluation day?’ I said. I did a set of five
with the dumbbell before keeping it down.

‘I am just
saying ... I don’t know why. I guess I really need to talk.’

‘Or need to be
heard,’ I said.

We looked at each
other.

‘Yes, exactly
that. How well you know me, Gopal’

‘Too well,’
I said and smiled.

‘You want to
see the rooms before we have lunch?’ she said.

‘Sure. Where
are we eating?’ I said.

‘At the staff
canteen’ she said.

We took
stainless-steel elevators to the third floor. She had a master key
card to every room.

‘I am not
supposed to bring anyone to the hotel, by the way,’ she
confided.

‘So?’ I
said, wondering if it meant we should leave.

‘I am telling
you how important you are. I am risking my job for

you.’

‘If they fire
you, I will hire you.’

Our eyes met. We
burst into laughter. We had not shared such a moment in years. We
used to laugh like this in school - in sync and for the silliest of
things - a burping kid in class, her mimicking the teachers, me
pretending to sleep during History period.

She opened room
number 3103. I had never seen anything so luxurious in my whole life.
‘Cool,’ I said.

‘Isn’t
it?’ She sat on the large bed with its six cushions of bright
red silk. ‘This bed is heaven! Sit and see.’

‘Are you
sure?’ I said.

‘Sit, no,’
she said.

We sat next to each
other, me on the edge of the bed.

‘It’s
nice,’ I said, as if I was a mattress inspector by profession.

‘It’s
more comfortable lying down,’ she said.

I looked at her,
aghast. She saw my expression and started to laugh, holding her
stomach.

‘I am not
saying let’s,’ she said. ‘Since when did you become
so serious?’

We spent the next
twenty minutes playing around with light switches and bathroom taps.
I had never been with her in a solitary place like this. It was going
to my head. And I sensed a slight tension in the air. Maybe the
tension was only on my side.

‘Let’s
go.’ I checked my watch. I had to be back in the campus soon.
‘Okay,’ she said and shut the washbasin tap.

We stepped out of
the room. A man in a crisp new suit saw us come

out.

‘Aarti?’
he said, surprised.

The colour vanished
from Aarti’s face.

‘Sir,’
she said. I read the tag on the man’s suit. Binayak Shastri,
Banquet Manager.

‘What are you
doing here?’ he said.

‘Sir,’
she said, ‘this is Mr Gopal Mishra. He is a client.’

‘We haven’t
opened yet,’ he said, still suspicious.

‘Hi,’ I
said, offering him my hand. ‘I am the director of the GangaTech
group of colleges’

He shook my hand.

‘We are
thinking of doing a college event here’ I said.

We walked towards
the elevator. I was hoping he would ask no further questions when he
said, ‘What kind of event?’

‘A dinner for
the top companies that we call for placement,’ I said.

Aarti avoided eye
contact with everyone.

‘Sure, we will
be happy to assist you,’ Binayak said, as he handed me his
card.