Authors: Chetan Bhagat
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?