Revolution 2020 (32 page)

‘Baba, will I
also die?’ Keshav said, his voice a mere thread.

'Stupid boy. What
nonsense,’ the farmer said.

I felt bad for the
child, who would not remember his mother when he grew up, just like
me. I gripped the key in my pocket harder, hoping that clutching it
will make me feel better.

Raghav was dusting
his desk and chair. His paper could close down in a week and he had
no money. Yet, he wanted to travel to some far-flung village to help
some random people. They had broken his office, but not his spirit.

I clutched the key
tighter, to justify to myself that
I
am
the
better
person
here.

I realised the boy
was staring at me. His gaze was light, but I felt disturbed, like he
was questioning me and I had no answer.

What
have
you
become,
Gopal
? a voice
rang in my head.

I restlessly took
out the sunglasses from my pocket and twirled them about. I suddenly
noticed that the eyes of the boy, Keshav, were moving with the
sunglasses. I moved them to the right, his eyes followed. I moved
them to the left, his eyes followed. I smiled at him.

‘What?’
I pointed at my fancy shades. ‘You want these?’

Keshav sat up,
feeble but eager. Though his father kept saying no, I felt a certain
relief in handing over the sunglasses.

‘They are big
for me,’ the boy said, trying them on. The oversized glasses
made his face look even more pathetic.

I closed my eyes.
The heat in the room was too much. I felt sick. Raghav was now on the
phone.

My mind continued to
talk.
What
did
you
come
here
for?
You
came
to
show
him
that
you
have
made
it,
and
he
is
ruined
?
Is
that
the
high
point
of
your
life?
You
think
you
are
a
better
person
than
him,
because
of
your
car
and
suit
?

‘Gopal!’
Raghav called out.

‘Huh?’ I
said, opening my eyes. ‘What?’

‘Come on in,’
Raghav said.

I went into his
office. I kept my hand in my pocket, on my keys. According to the
plan, I was to casually place the keys on his table before sitting
down. However, I couldn’t.

‘What’s
in the pocket?’ Raghav said as he noticed that my hand would
not come out.

‘Oh, nothing,’
I said and released the keys. I sat down to face him.

‘What brings
you to
Revolution
20201
Have we upset your
bosses again?’ Raghav chuckled. ‘Oh wait, you said it is
personal.’

‘Yeah,’
I said.

‘What?’
Raghav said.

I didn’t know
what to say. I had my whole speech planned. On how Aarti deserved
better than him, and that better person was I. On how I had made it
in life, and he had failed. On how he was the loser, not me. And yet,
saying all that now would make me feel like a loser.

‘Hows the
paper?’ I said, saying something to end the awkward silence.

He swung his hands
in the air. ‘You can see for yourself.’

‘What will you
do if it closes down?’ I said.

Raghav did not
smile. ‘Haven’t thought about it. End of phase one I
guess’

I kept quiet.

‘Hope I won’t
have to take an engineering job. Maybe I will have to apply ...’
Raghav’s voice trailed into silence.

I could tell Raghav
didn’t know. He hadn’t thought that far.

‘I’m
sorry, Gopal,’ Raghav said, ‘if I have hurt you in the
past. Whatever you may think, it wasn’t personal.’

‘Why do you do
all this, Raghav? You are smart. Why don’t you just make money
like the rest of us?’

‘Someone has
to do it, Gopal. How will things change?’

‘The whole
system is fucked up. One person can’t change it.’

‘I know.’

‘So?’

‘We all have
to do our bit. For change we need a revolution. A real revolution can
only happen when people ask themselves - what is my sacrifice?’

‘Sounds like
your newspaper’s tagline,’ I mocked.

He had no answer. I
stood up to leave. He followed me out. I decided not to call my car,
but to walk out into the lane and find it.

‘What did you
come here for?’ Raghav said. ‘I can’t believe you
came here to check on me.’

‘I had work in
the area. My car needed servicing. I thought I will visit you while
it gets fixed,’ I said.

‘Nice of you
to come. You should check on Aarti too sometimes,’ he

said.

I went on red-alert
at the mention of her name.

‘Yeah. How is
she doing?’ I said.

‘Haven’t
met her in a while, but she seems stressed. I have to make it up to
her. You should call her, she will like it,’ he said.

I nodded and came
out of his office.

I lay down in my
comfortable bed at night. However, I could not sleep a wink. There
were three missed calls from Aarti. I didn’t call back. I
couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say to her.

How did it go? she
messaged me.

I realised she’d
keep asking until I told her something. I called her.

‘Why weren’t
you picking up?’ she said.

‘Sorry, I had
the dean at home. He left just now.’

‘You met
Raghav?’ she asked impatiently.

‘Yeah,’
I sighed.

‘So?’

‘He had people
in his office. I couldn’t bring it up,’ I said.

‘Gopal, I hope
you realise that until I break up with him, I am cheating on him with
you. Should I talk to him?’

‘No, no, wait.
I will meet him in private.’

‘And I need to
speak to my parents too,’ she said.

‘About what?’

‘I have three
prospective grooms lined up for meetings next week. All from
political families.’

‘Have your
parents gone insane?’ I exploded.

‘When it comes
to daughters, Indian parents are insane,’ she said. ‘I
can stall them, but not for long.’

‘Okay, I will
fix this,’ I said.

I pulled two pillows
close to me.

'See, this is what
happens after sex. Roles reverse. The girl has to chase now.’

‘Nothing like
that, Aarti. Give me two days.’

‘Okay. Else I
am speaking to Raghav myself. And in case he asks, nothing ever
happened between us.’

‘What do you
mean?’ I said.

‘I never
cheated on him. We decided to get together, but only did so after the
break-up. Okay?’

‘Okay,’
I said.

Sometimes I feel
girls like to complicate their lives.

‘He will be
devastated otherwise,’ she finished.

I ended the call and
lay down on the bed, exhausted.

My eyes hurt due to
the extra white clothes people had worn for the funeral. I looked at
people’s faces. I could not recognise any of them.

‘Whose funeral
is it?’ I asked a man next to me.

We stood at the
ghats. The body, I saw, was small. They took it straight to the
water.

‘Why are they
not cremating it?’ I asked. And then I realised why. It was a
child. I went close to the body and removed the shroud. It was a
little boy. In sunglasses.

‘Who killed
him?’ I screamed but the words would not come out...

I woke up screaming
at the white ceiling of my bedroom and the bright lights I had
forgotten to switch off. It was 3:00 a.m. Just a nightmare, I told
myself.

I tossed and turned
in bed, but could not go back to sleep.

I thought about
Raghav. The guy was finished. His paper would shut down. He would
find it tough to get a job, at least in Varanasi. And wherever he
was, Shuklas men could hurt him.

I thought about
Aarti - my Aarti - my reason to live. I could be engaged to her next
week, married in three months. In a year, I could be an MLA. My
university approvals would come within the space of a heartbeat. I
could expand into medicine, MBA, coaching, aviation. Given how much
Indians cared about education, the sky would be the limit. Forget
Aarti becoming a flight attendant, I could buy her a plane. If I
played my cards right, I could also rise up the party ranks. I had
lived alone too long. I could start a family, and have lots of
beautiful kids with Aarti. They would grow up and take over the
family businesses and political empire. This is how people become big
in India. I could become really big.

But
what
happens
to
Raghav?
The
dead-alive Keshav asked me.
I
don
’
t
care,
I told him.
If
he
went
down,
it
is
because
of
his
own
stupidity.
If
he
were
smart,
he
would
have
realised
that
stupid
bravado
will
lead
to
nothing.
There
would
be
no
revolution
in
this
country
by
2020.
There
wouldn
’
t
be
one
by
2120!
This
is
India,
nothing
changes
here.
Fuck
you,
Raghav.

But Keshav was not
done with me.
What
kind
of
politician
will
you
be,
Gopal?

‘I don’t
want to answer you. You are scaring me, go away,’ I said out
aloud, even though there was nobody in the room. Really, I knew that.

What
about
Aarti?
A voice whispered within me.

I love her!

What about her?
Does she love you?

Yes,
Aarti
loves
me.
She
made
love
to
me.
She
wants
me
to
be
her
husband,
I screamed in my head until it
hurt.

But will she love
you if she knows who you really are? A corrupt, manipulative bastard?

‘I work hard.
I am a successful man,’ I said aloud again, my voice startling
me.

But are you a
good person?

The clock showed
5:00 a.m. Day was breaking outside.

I went for a walk
around the campus. My mind calmed a little in the fresh morning air.
Little birds chirped on dew-drenched trees. They didn’t care
about money, the Mercedes or the bungalow. They sang, for that was
what they wanted to do. And it felt beautiful. For the first time, I
felt proud of the trees and birds on the campus.

I realised why
Keshav kept coming to me. Once upon a time, I was Keshav - sweet,
innocent and unaware of the world. As life slapped me about several
times, and thrashed the innocence out of me, I had killed my Keshav,
for the world didn’t care about sweetness. Then why didn’t
I crush Raghav completely yesterday? Maybe that Keshav hasn’t
died, I told myself. Maybe that innocent, good part of us never dies
- we just trample upon it for a while.

I looked at the sky,
hoping to get guidance from above - from god, my mother or Baba.
Tears streamed down my face. I began to sob uncontrollably. I sat
down under a tree and cried for an hour. Just like that.

Sometimes life isn’t
about what you want to do, but what you ought to do.

                                                        ♦

Shukla-ji was eating
apples in the jail verandah. A constable sat next to him, peeling and
slicing.

‘Gopal, my
son, come, come,’ Shukla-ji said. He wore a crisp white
kurta-pyjama that glistened in the morning sun.

I sat on the floor.
‘Had a small favour to ask you,’ I said.

‘Of course,’
he said.

I looked at the
constable. ‘Oh, him. He is Dhiraj, from my native place.
Dhiraj, my son and I need to talk.’

The constable left.

‘I’ve
told him I’ll get him promoted,’ Shukla-ji said and
smiled.

‘I have come
with a strange request,’ I said.

‘Everything
okay?’

‘Shukla-ji,
can you help me hire some ... call girls? You mentioned them long
ago.’

Shukla-ji laughed so
hard, apple juice dripped out of his mouth.

‘I am
serious,’ I said.

‘My boy has
become big. So, you want women?’

‘It’s
not for me.’

Shukla-ji patted my
knee and winked conspiratorially. ‘Of course not. Tell me, how
old are you?’

‘I will turn
twenty-four next week,’ I said.

‘Oh, your
birthday is coming?’ he said.

‘Yes, on
November 11,’ I said.

‘That’s
great. You are old enough. Don’t be shy,’ he said, ‘we
all do it.’

‘Sir, it’s
for the inspectors. We have a visit next week,’ I said. ‘I
want to increase my fee. They control the decision.’

He frowned.
‘Envelopes wont do it for them?’

‘This one
inspector likes women. I have news from other private colleges in
Kanpur.’

‘Oh, okay,’
Shukla-ji said. He took out his cellphone from a secret pocket in his
pyjamas. He scrolled through his contacts and gave me a number.

‘His name is
Vinod. Call him and give my reference. Give him your requirements.
He’ll do it. When do you need them?’

‘I don’t
have the exact date yet,’ I said and began to stand up.

‘Wait,’
Shukla-ji said, pulling my hand and making me sit down again. ‘You
also enjoy them. It gets harder after marriage. Have your fun before
that.’