Authors: chetan bhagat
Twenty-four hours
later I lit my father’s firewood-covered body at Manikarnika
Ghat. Even though he had died, I felt the fire must hurt him. I
remembered how he would dress me up for school when I was a child,
comb my hair ... Smoke rose from the pyre and tears finally welled up
in my eyes. I began to sob. Aarti and Raghav had come to the funeral.
They stood with me, condoling in silence.
Half an hour later
most of the relatives had left. I watched as the flames ate up the
wood.
I felt a tap on my
shoulder. I turned around. Two muscular men with paan-stained lips
stood behind me. One of them had a thick moustache curved upwards.
‘Yes?’ I
said.
The moustached man
pointed his finger at the pyre. ‘Are you his son?’
‘I am.’
‘Come aside,’
he said.
‘Why
?
’
I said.
‘He owed us
two lakhs.’
♦
‘Ghanshyam
taya-ji wants to offer three lakhs?’ I said to Dubey uncle,
shocked.
He flipped through
the document he had prepared for me. ‘You sign here, you get
three lakhs. Loan sharks are after you. They are dangerous. I am
trying to help you.’
I examined the
document. I didn’t really understand it. ‘Three lakhs is
too low. They offered ten lakhs ages ago,’ I said.
‘That’s
right, ages ago. When your father didn’t take it. Now they know
you cant do anything. And you need the money.’
I kept quiet. Dubey
uncle stood up. I wondered whose side my lawyer represented anyway.
‘I realise it
isn’t an easy time for you. Think about it,’ he said.
♦
I attended the
career fair held in a giant tent put up in the Dr Sampooranand Sports
Stadium.
Vineet had urged me
to go. ‘Meet my friend Sunil there. He is the event manager of
the fair and knows all the participants’
I entered the main
tent. Hundreds of stalls made it resemble a trade expo. Private
colleges around the country were trying to woo the
students of
Varanasi. Members of managing bodies of colleges stood with smiling
faces. Banners inside the stalls displayed campus pictures like real
estate projects. In cases where parts of the college building were
under construction, the pictures were an artists rendition.
‘Once
complete, this will be the best campus in Uttar Pradesh,’ I
heard one stall-owner tell a set of anxious parents. He skipped the
part about how during construction students would have to study in
makeshift classrooms surrounded by concrete mixers.
Loud posters
proclaimed college names along with emblems. Names varied, but were
often inspired by gods or grandfathers of rich promoters.
Select faculty and
students from each college greeted us with glossy brochures of their
institute in these stalls. Everyone wore suits and grinned like a
well-trained flight crew. Hundreds of loser students like me moved
restlessly from one stall to the next. Seventy per cent of the stalls
comprised of engineering colleges. Medical, hotel management,
aviation academies and a few other courses like BBA made up the rest.
I reached the Sri
Ganesh Vinayak College, or SGVC, stall at noon -the designated place
and time to meet Sunil.
I picked up the SGVC
brochure, with its smiling students on the cover. The boys seemed
happier and the girls prettier than the JEE toppers in the Kota
brochures. The back cover of the brochure carried praise for the
facilities and faculty of the institute, enough to make an IIT
director blush. Inside the booklet I found a list of the programmes
offered. From computer science to metallurgy, SGVC offered every
engineering course.
I read through the
entire brochure. I read the vision and mission statements of the
founders. I read the college’s philosophy on education, and how
they were
different.
Other
career
fair veterans grinned
as they walked past me. I seemed to be the only person actually
reading the document.
Sunil found me at
the stall for the Sri Ganesh Vinayak College, deep in study.
‘Gopal?’
he said tentatively.
‘Huh?’ I
turned around. ‘Sunil?’
Sunil gave me a firm
handshake. Stubble and sunglasses covered most of his face. He wore a
purple shirt and tight black jeans with a giant silver buckle. ‘What
the hell are you doing?’ he asked straight off.
‘Reading the
brochure,’ I said.
‘Are you
stupid? Go to the fees and placements page. See the average salary,
check the fee. If two years’ income pays the cost, shortlist
it, else move on.’
‘What about
teaching methods? Learning ...’
‘f'uck
learning,’ Sunil said and snatched the brochure from my hand. 1
found his mannerisms and language rather rough. He borrowed a
calculator from one of the students at the stall. ‘See, tuition
fifty thousand, hostel thirty thousand, let’s say twenty
thousand more for the useless things they will make you buy. So you
pay a lakh a year for four years. Average placement is one and a half
lakhs. Fuck it. Let’s go.’
‘But...’
I was still doing the calculations.
‘Move on.
There are a hundred stalls here.’
We went to the next
stall. The red and white banner said ‘Shri Chintumal Group of
Institutes, NH2, Allahabad’. A small map showed the college
location, thirty kilometres from Allahabad city.
‘I cant go to
a college called Chintumal,’ I said.
‘Shut up. You
never have to say your college’s
name,
anyway.
’
Sunil picked up a brochure. Within seconds he found the relevant
page. ‘Okay, this is seventy thousand a year. Final placement
one lakh forty thousand. See, this makes more sense.’
A fat man in his
forties came to us.
‘Our placement
will be even better this year,’ he said. ‘I am Jyoti
Verma, dean of students’
I had never expected
a dean to sell the college to me. He extended his hand. Sunil shook
it purposefully.
‘Yes, your
fees are also lower than theirs,’ I said and pointed to the Sri
Ganesh stall.
‘Their
placement numbers are fake. Ours are real, ask any of our students,’
Jyoti said.
He pointed to his
students, three boys and two girls, who had worn suits for the first
time in their life. They smiled timidly. I browsed through the campus
pictures in the Chintumal stall.
A man from the Sri
Ganesh stall came to me. He tapped my shoulder.
‘Yes,’ I
said.
‘Mahesh Verma
from Sri Ganesh. Did Chintumal say anything negative about us?’
I looked at him.
Mahesh, in his forties and fat, looked a lot like Jyoti Verma.
‘Did they?’
Mahesh said again.
I shook my head.
‘You are
considering Chintumal?’ he said.
I nodded.
‘Why not Sri
Ganesh?’
‘It’s
expensive,’ I said.
‘What’s
your budget? Maybe we can help you,’ he said.
‘What?’
I said. I couldn’t believe one could bargain down college
fees.
‘Tell me your
budget. I will give you a ten per cent discount if you sign up right
now.’
I turned to Sunil,
unsure of what to say or do next. Sunil took charge of the situation.
‘We want
thirty per cent off. Chintumal is that much cheaper,’ Sunil
said.
‘They don’t
even have a building,’ Mahesh said.
‘How do you
know?’ I said.
‘He’s my
brother. He broke off and started his own college. But it has got bad
reports,’ Mahesh said.
Jyoti kept an eye on
us from a distance. Yes, the brothers did resemble each other.
‘We don’t
care. Tell us your maximum discount,’ Sunil said.
‘Come to my
stall,’ Mahesh signalled us to follow him.
‘Stop,’
Jyoti barred our way.
‘What?’
I said.
‘Why are you
going to Sri Ganesh?’
‘He is giving
me a discount,’ I said.
‘Did you ask
me tor a discount? Did I say no?’ Jyoti said, his expression
serious. I had never seen a businessman-cum-dean before. ‘Mahesh
bhai, please leave my stall,’ Jyoti said in a threatening tone.
‘He’s my
student. We have spoken,’ Mahesh bhai said and held my wrist.
‘Come, son, what’s your name?’
‘Gopal,’
I said as Jyoti grabbed my other wrist. ‘But please stop
pulling
me.’
The brothers ignored
my reqest.
‘I will give
you the best discount. Don’t go to Sri Ganesh and ruin your
life. They don’t even have labs. Those pictures in the brochure
are of another college,’ Jyoti said.
‘Sir, I don’t
even know ...’ I said and looked at Sunil. He seemed as baffled
as me.
‘Shut up,
Jyoti!’ a hitherto soft-spoken Mahesh screamed.
‘Don’t
shout at me in my own stall. Get out,’ Jyoti said.
Mahesh gave all of
us a dirty look. In one swift move he ripped off the Chintumal
banner.
Jyoti’s face
went as red as his college emblem. He went to the Sri Ganesh stall
and threw the box of brochures down.
I tried to run out
of the stall. Jyoti held me by my collar.
‘Wait, I will
give you a seat for fifty thousand a year.’
‘Let... me ...
go,’ I panted.
Mahesh returned with
three people who resembled Bollywood thugs. Apparently, they were
faculty. They started to rip out all the hoardings of the Chintumal
stall. Jyoti ordered his own security men to fight them.
As I tried to
escape, one of Sri Ganesh’s goons pushed me. I fell facedown
and landed on a wooden table covered in a white sheet. It had a
protruding nail that cut my cheek. Blood covered one side of my face.
Sweat drops appeared on my forehead. I had finally given my blood and
sweat to studies.
He pointed to his
students, three boys and two girls, who had worn suits for the first
time in their life. They smiled timidly. I browsed through the campus
pictures in the Chintumal stall.
A man from the Sri
Ganesh stall came to me. He tapped my shoulder.
‘Yes,’ I
said.
‘Mahesh Verma
from Sri Ganesh. Did Chintumal say anything negative about us?’
I looked at him.
Mahesh, in his forties and fat, looked a lot like Jyoti Verma.
‘Did they?’
Mahesh said again.
I shook my head.
‘You are
considering Chintumal?’ he said.
I nodded.
‘Why not Sri
Ganesh?’
‘It’s
expensive,’ I said.
‘What’s
your budget? Maybe we can help you,’ he said.
‘What?’
I said. I couldn’t believe one could bargain down college
fees.
‘Tell me your
budget. I will give you a ten per cent discount if you sign up right
now.’
I turned to Sunil,
unsure of what to say or do next. Sunil took charge of the situation.
‘We want
thirty per cent off. Chintumal is that much cheaper,’ Sunil
said.
‘They don’t
even have a building,’ Mahesh said.
‘How do you
know?’ I said.
‘He’s my
brother. He broke off and started his own college. But it has got bad
reports,’ Mahesh said.
Jyoti kept an eye on
us from a distance. Yes, the brothers did resemble each other.
‘We don’t
care. Tell us your maximum discount,’ Sunil said.
‘Come to my
stall,’ Mahesh signalled us to follow him.
‘Stop,’
Jyoti barred our way.
‘What?’
I said.
‘Why are you
goiii}.’ l<> Sri Ganesh?’
‘He is giving
me a discount,’ I said.
‘Did you ask
me tor a discount? Did I say no?’ Jyoti said, his expression
serious. I had never seen a businessman-cum-dean before. ‘Mahesh
bhai, please leave my stall,’ Jyoti said in a threatening tone.
‘He’s my
student. We have spoken,’ Mahesh bhai said and held my wrist.
‘Come, son, what’s your name?’
‘Gopal,’
I said as Jyoti grabbed my other wrist. ‘But please stop
pulling
me.’
The brothers ignored
my reqest.
‘I will give
you the best discount. Don’t go to Sri Ganesh and ruin your
life. They don’t even have labs. Ihose pictures in the brochure
are of another college,’ Jyoti said.
‘Sir, I don’t
even know ...’ I said and looked at Sunil. He seemed as baffled
as me.
‘Shut up,
Jyoti!’ a hitherto soft-spoken Mahesh screamed.
‘Don’t
shout at me in my own stall. Get out,’ Jyoti said.
Mahesh gave all of
us a dirty look. In one swift move he ripped off the Chintumal
banner.
Jyoti’s face
went as red as his college emblem. He went to the Sri Ganesh stall
and threw the box of brochures down.
I tried to run out
of the stall. Jyoti held me by my collar.
‘Wait, I will
give you a seat for fifty thousand a year.’
‘Let... me ...
go,’ I panted.
Mahesh returned with
three people who resembled Bollywood thugs. Apparently, they were
faculty. They started to rip out all the hoardings of the Chintumal
stall. Jyoti ordered his own security men to fight them.
As I tried to
escape, one of Sri Ganesh’s goons pushed me. I fell facedown
and landed on a wooden table covered in a white sheet. It had a
protruding nail that cut my cheek. Blood covered one side of my face.
Sweat drops appeared on my forehead. I had finally given my blood and
sweat to studies.
Sunil helped me up.
I saw the blood on the white sheet and felt nauseous. A crowd had
gathered around us. I did not say anything and ran out. I left the
stadium and continued to sprint down the main road for two hundred
metres.
I stopped to catch
my breath and heard footsteps as Sunil jogged towards me.
Both of us held our
sides and panted.
‘Fuck,’
Sunil said. ‘Lucky escape.’
We went to a
chemist’s where I applied some dressing on my cheek.