Five Point Someone What not to do at IIT Novel Chetan Bhagat

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novel
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Re: Five Point Someone What not to do at IIT Novel Chetan Bh

Unread post by novel » 30 Sep 2015 08:55

24

Will we Make It?
NEHA. THE NAME THAT DID NOT ALLOW ME TO SLEEP nights.
True, my engineering degree was in the dumps. True, we probably pointlessly slaved in
Prof Veera’s lab mixing one type of grease with another all day. True, I may get expletives
in my grade sheet that would prevent me from getting a decent job. However, none of these
bothered me enough to cause insomnia. In fact, the four months off were great to catch up on
sleep. But the one person whose voice, smell, image, feelings crept up next to me at night
and made sleep impossible was Neha.
I tried calling her on an eleventh. She hung up in two minutes, telling me she never
expected me to be like this. I guess for someone she called a loafer, she had pretty high
expectations.
I had called right back, trying to explain in vain how the whole idea was not mine, and it
was stupid for me to fall for it.
“You used me Hari. Like all men, you used me,” she said. Like all men? How many men
had she been with anyway, I thought. What has she been reading these days, some
Femina-Cosmo crap?
I was just trying to sneak out a major paper. Okay, it was pretty sick of me to duplicate
the keys – but I did it only because it was convenient. Ryan would have found another way
in any case. I tried telling her that, but she was like ‘you men just don’t get it, do you?’ I
thought she wasn’t getting it either, but I still loved her like mad.
“And you told the Disco I gave you the keys? I Hari? You know Dad still believes that?”
Wow, I was kind of glad Cherian believed it. How would Neha understand? If they knew
we had duplicated the keys, we would have resembled those real criminals. We probably
were real criminals. But that was not the point. Man, why is it so hard to explain stuf to
girls. Can’t she just get on with it? Should I say something dumb that she wants to hear?
“Neha, I know I did all those things. But at one level, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t your Hari,” I
said. Obviously, I made no sense. But that is the thing with girls. Give them confusing crap
and they fall for it.
“Then why Hari? Why?”
“I don’t know. Can I just meet you once?” I said.
“No way. We are through.”
She hung up after that and took her phone off the hook for the rest of the day. It meant I had
to wait another month, or suffer another thirty sleepless nights.
Then the next eleventh came around, and I couldn’t wait to make that call.
Woke up at ten the next morning. The eleventh finally, I told myself and left my room
immediately. I had to make my call fast and think up really good lines this time. I was on my
way downstairs when I noticed an elderly lady come up. Probably someone’s parent, I
thought even as I couldn’t help thinking she looked familiar. Then it struck me – Alok’s
mom.
“Hello Aunty. It is me, Hari,” I said.
“Oh hello Hari beta. Where have you all been? I had to come to the hostel because Alok
hasn’t been home for two months. Is he all right?” she asked, breathing heavily.
“Huh? Alok is fine Aunty. Must have been busy with the project,” I said, thinking of a
way to prevent her from meeting Alok.
“Uncle is downstairs in an auto. Call him quickly, we are all worried for him,” she said.
“Yes Aunty sure,” I said as I ran up. Alok was sitting on his bed, reading a magazine and
eating chips.
Ryan sat next to him, a porno mag in hand, his cigarette filling Alok’s room with smoke.
“Are you guys nuts? Smoking and porn early morning,” I tut-tutted.
“What are you so worked up about? Why not do the best things when one is still fresh,”
Ryan said.
“Alok, your parents are here,” I said.
“What?” Alok said as the chips in his hands fell.
“Yes, your mom is climbing the stairs. She sounds mad and worried you didn’t call.”
“You mean she is coming here?” Alok said, waving his hands to get rid of the cigarette
smoke.
“Yes, and I think she is going to see your broken bones now.”
“Fuck,” Alok said.
“Just stay in bed. We’ll cover your legs with sheets,” Ryan said, stuffing the porno under
Alok’s mattress.
“Can’t. His dad is downstairs waiting to see his only son,” I said and dug into the chips.
It was fun to see these two guys worked up now.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Alok said, trying to arrange his pillows.
“And I think you should keep the curses down,” I said.
Alok’s mom knocked about a minute later. It is amazing how much can get done in a minute.
Ryan threw out the ashtrays, pornos and vodka bottles. He also arranged the course books
and assignments on the study table. All dirty clothes stayed hidden in an overstuffed
cupboard.
“Hello Mom. What a pleasant surprise,” Alok said.
“Alok. I am not talking to you. You have completely forgotten us,” Alok’s mom said as
she put boxes of sweets on the study table. I wondered if it was okay for us to strike at them
now.
“I was busy,” Alok said.
“Shut up. Two months have passed. You haven’t called since that day you called about
Dad and Didi’s proposal. What happened? You don’t want to talk about our problems?”
“No Mom. It is just this assignment for Prof Veera. It keeps us so busy,” Alok said.
“My son works too hard,” Alok’s mom said looking at me and Ryan, “You guys should
take a break now and then. After all, your jobs are just a semester away,” she said.
Ryan and I smiled, continuing to stare at the boxes of food. Please Aunty, of er them
once.
“Alok, you must come home next weekend. Look, even Dad had to come all the way in an
auto,” she said.
“You took an auto! It is seventy rupees,” Alok said.
“So what to do with Dad? And after all, my son will be working soon,” Alok’s mom said,
“and Hari, why don’t you have some laddoos I made.”
Ryan and I jumped on the boxes before she finished her sentence.
“Mom but still,” Alok said.
“Keep quiet. Look Didi also sent this new pair of jeans for you. She saved her pocket
money you know,” she said, passing a brown bag.
“Thanks Mom. I’ll keep it for a special occasion,” Alok said.
“But at least try it now. Come get up,” Alok’s mom said.
“No Mom. I’ll do it later,” Alok said.
“What later? We can change size now if it doesn’t fit. Don’t be lazy get up,” Alok’s mom
said, shaking Alok’s leg. I am sure that hurt.
“No Mom,” Alok said, clenching his teeth.
“Get up,” Alok’s mom insisted, pulling the bed sheet off him. She shouldn’t have. For
Alok still had the signs – plaster casts covered both thighs and legs. The feet still showed
marks where doctors had done the stitches. It was something even we didn’t fancy seeing.
“Oh my god,” Alok’s mom said as her face dropped along with her hands. “Mom please,”
Alok said, pushing her away and wishing she had never come.
Alok’s mom felt nauseous and Ryan had to help support her back to a chair. I gave her a
glass of water.
“What is going on? Will someone please tell me?” she said.
Ryan looked at me. It was time for us to leave the room.
“We’ll go downstairs. We’ll say hello to Uncle and say Alok is in the lab. Okay Aunty?”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Could any male in her family stand up on his own
legs?
“Easy Mom. It was a scooter accident that night…” Alok said as we shut the door behind
them. I was sure she’d know he was lying. A scooter accident with Ryan and me perfectly
fine was somewhat unbelievable. We saw her leave after half an hour, wiping her tears. We
stood by the auto, trying to make conversation with Alok’s dad. He was in a happy mood,
probably enjoying his rare day out.
“Alok busy eh?” he said, pursing his lips.
“Yes. They have an important project,” Alok’s mom said, sitting in the auto.
“Bye Aunty,” Ryan and I waved.
“Back to Rohini madam?” the auto driver said, starting the scooter.
“No. Take me to the Mechanical Engineering department.”
“Aunty?” we chorused.
“There are things which a mother can sense, even though her son may not talk about it. I
want to meet your Prof Veera before I go home,” she said as the auto buzzed off.
“She’ll find out. She’ll find out about the Disco,” I said, shaking Ryan’s shoulder.
“Let her. She deserves it,” Ryan said as he put his arm around me.
We went to Sasi’s for breakfast after Alok’s mom left.
“I have to make my call today,” I said.
“Is she real mad at you?” Ryan said.
“She was a month ago. She’s got to miss me right?” I said.
“I don’t know. What is the whole deal about missing people and not doing anything about
it anyway?” Ryan said, and took out a brown envelope from his jeans pocket.
Sasi served a plate of paranthas. Ryan left the letter on the table and started tearing up the
hot paranthas.
“It is so different when you come and eat here without Alok. There is no frantic urgency
about eating,” Ryan said.
“Is that a letter from home?” I said.
“If you say so. Where are they now – LA or something,” Ryan said.
“How often do your parents write?” I said.
“Used to be every week, then once in two weeks. Now they write once a month,” Ryan
said, smothering each chunk of parantha with yellow butter.
“Do you write back?” I said.
“No. Not unless it is a couriered letter. In that case the delivery guy asks me to write a
few lines right there.”
“So what is the deal here Ryan? I mean, they are just abroad trying to make a buck. What
have you got against them?”
“I have nothing against them. I am just indifferent. I need another parantha.”
“Shut up. How can that be? I mean, how come you save all their letters? I saw them,
hundreds next to your vodka stash.”
Ryan stopped chewing. “It is too complicated. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You won’t talk to me?”
“They are too strange. I kept telling them let us stay together after my boarding school.
But the international business was really taking off then and they had to leave. I guess what I
wanted was never in the picture. So, okay I get the dollar cheque, thank you. But spare me
the we-miss-you shit. If you do, what the hell are you going to do about it?”
“Did you tell them about the Disco?” I said.
“Are you crazy?” Ryan said.
“You know, you could join their business after IIT. I mean, you know what our job scene
will be. But you won’t have to worry.”
“No way in hell,” Ryan said, and clenched his hands. “Never. I will open a parantha
shop, become a coolie, wash cars but I am not going to go to them.”
“They are your parents…”
He gave me a dirty look. “So thank you very much. I am going back to Alok. You have a
good time with your girl.”
“Ryan, could you give up your lube project right when it was about to become
successful?” I said.
“What?”
“Answer me,” I said.
“That is the only good thing I ever did in IIT. It is my passion, my sweat, and my belief.
No, how could I give it up?”
“Maybe this pottery business is your parents’ lube project,” I said as I stood up too.
He picked up his letter again and walked away.
“Reply to it Ryan,” I shouted across the road.
He put the letter back in his pocket.
“Neha, is that you?” I said, even though I was a hundred percent sure it was.
“Hari?” she said, her voice unable to hide the fact that she was expecting this call.
“Before you hang up, can I just say something?” I was suitably humble.
“I am not hanging up. What do you want to say?” she said.
“I miss you. And I love you. God, I was so close to you and then I blew it up. I wanted an
A in your dad’s course. I thought I could impress him. Somehow, in our twisted minds we
planned this Operation Pendulum. And they did a Disco on us, ruined our lives. And now
you also don’t want to talk to me…” My voice dwindled to a whisper.
“Hari?”
“What?”
“I missed you too.” She broke into tears.
I wished I could cry too. But her words made me too happy. I mentally hi-fived myself
and tried to control my elation. Keep serious tone, keep serious tone, I told myself.
“Oh Neha, don’t cry,” I said, probably to make her cr y a bit more. I can’t tell you how
good it feels when a girl cries because she missed you.
“I can’t Hari. I can’t forget you. Why did you do those things?” she said.
Okay, this is progress, I thought. From ‘how could you’ to ‘why did you’ is not bad.
Twisted they may be, but I did have my reasons. And I didn’t have to give them all now.
“I can explain more. Can we meet? Just for ten minutes,” I said.
“Should we? I mean, Dad made me swear I’d never see you,” she said.
Now how does one answer that? I tried to think of some rational premise on which
swears to dad could be broken. Nothing came to mind.
“I miss you, Neha,” I said. When in doubt, be sappy.
“I miss you too. Can you come to the ice-cream parlour at two,” she said.
“Sure. But on one condition,” I said.
“What?”
“Can we not have strawberry this time? I like chocolate more,” I said.
“Shut up, Hari,” she said, unable to hide a laugh. There, I had done it. Tears to titters in
one call. Plus, a tiny date thrown in too. I did a mini jig at the public phone booth, which
made the other customers in the shop think I had won a lottery.
“See you then,” I said and hung up the phone. I heard the coin go in. What a wonderful
way to spend a rupee.
Neha stayed at the ice-cream parlour for two hours, twelve times more than the ten minutes
she had come for. By the end, I’d told her everything. She couldn’t really remain upset for
too long. I guess it could be because I bought strawberry as well as chocolate, but maybe it
was because she was just happy to see me. We fixed the next date for a week later, and soon
we were back in the ‘fix the next date on the previous’ cycle. It helped me pass all the idle
time in the dropped semester. We worked eight hours a day in Prof Veera’s lab, sometimes
ten or twelve. Ryan worked longer, even up to sixteen. He ripped open his scooter for
experimentation, making it a pain to move around in the insti. Alok used crutches for a
month and then got by with a limp. Prof Veera liked the second proposal a lot, and he kept
informing the Dean of the progress we were making. He never brought up the issue of a
clean grade sheet or extra credits, but we knew there was little chance until we finished the
proposal. We gave the final draft to Prof Veera one week before the semester ended. It was
two hundred pages, and from Ryan, Alok and I this time.
“Wow. This is a fat proposal,” Prof Veera said.
“It’s literally the whole study. We have isolated the optimum mix already,” Ryan said.
“I know. This is way beyond a proposal,” Prof Veera said as he flipped through the
pages, “I cannot believe the four months are over.”
“Me neither. I guess it will be time to attend classes again,” I said.
“And loads of them. Maximum credits this time, and I am not skipping any more,” Alok
said.
“Me neither, right Ryan?” I said.
“Yeah. I’ll come along as well,” Ryan said, “So Prof Veera, what do we do with this
tome now?”
“Well,” Prof Veera said, putting the proposal on his desk, “let me take a final read and
unless there are big corrections, I’ll just submit it. Good job and take your week off before
your loaded semester begins.”
“And the credit and grade sheet, sir,” Alok prompted.
“Later guys. It depends on the reception to the proposal. Don’t be too optimistic, but we
shall see,” Prof Veera said.
We left his office, leaving our work of three months. It could get us nowhere, but we had
given it our best shot. The final sem began on Jan 5, just a week from now. And six days
later, on the eleventh, was my big date with Neha, when she would be free for the whole
day. If she would let me come to her home again, I thought.

novel
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Posts: 405
Joined: 16 Aug 2015 14:42

Re: Five Point Someone What not to do at IIT Novel Chetan Bh

Unread post by novel » 30 Sep 2015 08:56

25

A Day of Letters
THE FIRST DAY OF OUR FINAL SEMESTER FELT AS SPECIAL as the first day of
classes in the institute. We got up at six-thirty for the eight o’ clock class. Ryan took a
shower and then proceeded to carefully comb his hair for the next twenty minutes.
Even then we made it before class began. It was Prof Saxena’s ‘Refrigeration and Airconditioning’
or RAC class. He was a senior prof, and touted to be next in line for head of
the department. That is, if Cherian moved on to something else, retired or just died. None of
that was imminent as of now so Prof Saxena was content teaching final year students how to
keep things cool. We were the first students to arrive, and he was already in the class.
“Welcome, welcome,” Prof Saxena said, “now this is a surprise. Who would have
thought fourth year students will reach early for class.”
I guess he was right. In the final semester, people were more interested preparing for job
interviews and MBA admissions. We hadn’t even bothered to see which companies were
recruiting this time, for we didn’t know if we were getting a degree this year.
“Good morning, sir,” Ryan said as we took front row seats. We were sitting in a
classroom after four months. A blackboard never looked so great. I wondered when the
class would begin.
“What are your names?” Prof Saxena asked.
“I have heard those names,” he said after we told him. His forehead developed creases as
he tried to remember.
“We had a Disco last semester, sir. You were part of the committee,” Ryan said.
“Oh yes,” Prof Saxena said, “Yes, the Cherian case. So, this must be your first class in
months.”
We nodded solemnly.
“That explains it. So, what is your situation? Will you be graduating on time?” Prof
Saxena said. I couldn’t say if there was real concern in his voice or if he was just passing
time before class.
“We are five credits short, sir. Even though we have loaded up courses for this semester,”
Alok said.
“How many courses do you have?”
“Six,” I said.
“Wow. Most final semester students do just two. And that too they hardly attend class.
You will be in classes all day,” Prof Saxena said.
“Yes sir. No choice.” I shrugged.
“Have you talked to Cherian about credits?” Prof Saxena said.
“Prof Veera is trying for us,” I said.
“Hmm. Anyway, the system is harsh. Look at you boys, could have got a job even with
your low GPAs. Lots of software companies this time. But this Disco might spoil your entire
degree,” Prof Saxena said.
A few other students trickled in over the next few minutes. I think there were ten of us in
class, while over thirty had signed up for the course. I remembered earlier eight a.m.
classes, how we never attended them even in the second and third years. But right now, I
couldn’t wait to learn.
“Third law of thermodynamics,” Prof Saxena said as he got up to turn to the blackboard.
Ryan, Alok and I took out our pens and jotted down every word the prof spoke for the
next hour.
I met Neha a couple of weeks into the final semester. For the first time, I had to scramble to
make it for a date. I had to finish five assignments on the weekend, not to mention revise
notes for the coming minor tests. I couldn’t afford to fail in any course, and somehow I had
this big urge to learn a lot in my final days at IIT. But a date with Neha was a date with
Neha, so stapling my sheets for the ergonomics assignment, I ran out to the ice-cream
parlour.
“Twenty minutes late! Do you realize you are twenty minutes late?” Neha said.
“Sorry, this assignment…”
“I have to go back early today. Dad’s elder brother and family are coming for dinner. Dad
is going mad preparing for them. And since when were you into assignments so much?” She
hadn’t removed hands from hips.
“I don’t know. Just don’t want to take any chances. Can I buy you an ice-cream?”
“No thanks. I have already had one waiting for you. And with my relatives home tonight,
there will be a big meal. And I am trying to reduce,” she said.
“Reduce what?” I asked.
“My weight,” she said.
“Really? Why? You look great,” I said.
“No way. You should see the girls in my college. Anyway, what have you been up to?”
she said.
“Classes, classes and more classes. Eight to six ever y day. Then another three hours in
the library. Then another two for assignments and revisions. I am going mad. But what to
do? Never had this much course-load before.”
“What about Ryan and Alok?” she said.
“They are equally overworked. And we’ll still fall short of credits,” I said.
“What about your C2D, the whole cooperate to dominate…”
“That was all crap. It doesn’t work that way Neha. I know it doesn’t. I might be busy
now, but at least I am learning something. I am not just cogging assignments and beating the
system. That is not what it is about.”
“Wow, my loafer has become all serious. What is it about then?” Her voice went playful,
always a good sign.
“It is about knowledge. And making the most of the system, even if it has flaws. And it is
about not listening to bloody Ryan all the time,” I said.
“You are getting all wise. I miss my loafer,” she said.
I became quiet and looked into her eyes. Then, in one instant I got up and kissed her on
the lips.
“Hari! Are you crazy? People know me here,” she said.
“Just to let you know the loafer is still there,” I said.
“Yeah right. Anyway, look what I got,” she said and took out a piece of paper from her
bag.
“It’s your brother’s letter,” I said.
“Yes, his last. I want you to keep it,” she said.
“Why?” I said. It was a weird gift, to say the least.
“I don’t know. Dad doesn’t trust me anymore. And he comes and searches my room now
and then. I don’t want him to find this.”
“Really? Is he giving you a lot of trouble?” I said.
“Not much. I just don’t speak to him much. I did hear him talk about you guys the other
day though.”
“What? Where?”
“I’ll tell you. Will you keep my letter then?”
“You know I will. What did he say?”
“Dean Shastri came home the other day. They were talking about this proposal.”
“The lube project,” I said.
“Yes, something like that. Prof Veera had given each of them a copy. Dean Shastri was
quite impressed with the findings.”
“What did your dad say?” I said.
“I don’t think you want to hear it,” she said.
“No tell me,” I fairly shouted. Why do girls take so long to come to the point?
“He said it was an okay-ish effort. But he told Dean Shastri not to trust these students. He
said, ‘who knows? They have cheated once, they could have cheated to make the findings.
They just want their credits,’ and that was it.”
“Complete crap. That is complete crap. You know Neha, how much we worked our asses
off on it.”
“I know. But that is what he said. And Dean Shastri told him to think about it some more.”
I put the letter on the table. I spread it out; Samir’s last words. Someone so sick of his
father’s desire to get him into IIT that he preferred death. I wondered how much a train
passing over you could hurt.
“Two large bricks of strawberry please,” I heard a voice in the background.
“Hello Cherian sahib. What happened, big guests tonight?” the counter boy said.
“Yes, my brother is coming from Canada. He loves ice-cream,” I heard Prof Cherian’s
voice.
I froze at my table, like all the flavors of ice-cream in the fridge. Neha froze too. We
were sitting right opposite him, and couldn’t run out of the parlour. We silently prayed he
wouldn’t see us. But this was Cherian. A reflection on the steel counter frame was enough.
“Neha!” He turned toward us. I think all the ice-cream in the parlour melted at that tone.
Neha didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. I recalled last seeing Cherian when he was head
of the Disco. Will he ruin me again? I hadn’t even ordered my ice-cream.
Cherian came and sat next to me. My heart raced as it attempted to leave my body and
escape the parlour.
“You have guts. You bloody rascal, you do have guts,” Cherian said as he stared at me.
Neha cleared her throat but he signaled her to keep quiet.
“Sir, I just…sir...just had to...sir just ran into her,” I said, talking and thinking at the same
time.
“Are you bluffing me again?” Cherian banged his fist on the table. It landed on the open
letter and almost tore it.
“Dad, be careful,” Neha said as she tried to push his angry fist away.
“What is this?” Cherian said.
Neha opened her palms and covered the letter.
“Nothing. It is nothing, Dad,” she said.
“What is it, you rascal?” Cherian said looking at me, his fist still firmly on the letter,
“love letters you write to trap my daughter. I told you to stay away from her. So one Disco
wasn’t enough?”
“It is Samir’s letter,” I said.
“Hari, shut up,” Neha said, as a reflex.
I don’t know why I said it. But I wasn’t going to repeat it.
“What did he say?” Prof Cherian said.
Neha and I kept silent.
“Remove your hands, Neha,” Cherian said and glared at her. She withdrew her hands,
only to bring them to her face to wipe her tears. Cherian picked the letter up and read it
silently.
He tried hard to retain his composure, but his eyes contracted and his fingers started to
shiver. He read the letter again and again and then again. The two bricks of ice-cream he
had bought were melting and creating a puddle on our table. but, the puddles in Cherian’s
mind were causing us more concern. He removed his glasses, his eyes then did the
unthinkable. Yes, here he was, the head of our department, the tormentor of my life and his
eyes had just become wet. Two fat tears squeezed out of the edges. And there I was, sitting
with the Cherian family as they cried. I could have joined in, but I wasn’t in the mood.
Besides, ice-cream parlours are hardly the place for group cries.
“Dad, are you all right?” Neha said, wiping her tears.
Her father then cried uncontrollably. It was strange to see a grown-up man cry. I mean,
you expect them to make you cry. I wished Ryan were here.
“Let’s go home, Dad,” Neha said as she got up.
Cherian surrendered himself to his daughter. I gave Neha the bag of ice-cream, mostly a
syrupy mass now. Her father kept kissing the letter.
They left the parlour and I hadn’t gotten a chance to fix my next date with Neha. But I felt
damn lucky to survive meeting Cherian again. Neha drove the car with her dad still sobbing
in the front seat.
“Sir, are you going to pay for that ice-cream?” the counter boy asked me.
“You mean Cherian was in tears. Like real crying-crying?” Ryan was disbelieving.
“Howling man, with hands on face and lots of tears right until he left. Damn it, I had to
pay for two bricks of ice-cream.”
“Totally worth it. I would pay for four for a repeat performance. Yes. Even he suffers.
Yes!” Ryan performed a little jig.
“It isn’t funny Ryan. He must have been in shock,” Alok said.
“So? Not my problem. But I missed it. If only I was there,” Ryan said.
“Can we do the assignments for tomorrow then? Do we have RAC?” I said.
“Yes, we do,” Alok said, “So what is going on about the proposal?”
“I don’t know. Neha told me Cherian wasn’t so keen. Let us talk to Prof Veera some time
next week.”
“The companies have arrived you know. I saw the recruitment notice board. Many new
ones in the software sector,” Alok said.
“No point looking at them yet. If the credits don’t work out, we’ll have another year to
think about it,” I said as we opened fresh sheets to do our assignment.
I slept at four that night. Cherian’s face after he’d read the letter swam before me. Sure, it
was somewhat funny as Ryan said. But it was also sad. How could a strong man like
Cherian get like that? What are these tough people really made of? And the way Neha took
her father back, she must love him a lot. And Cherian must have loved his son a lot, even
though he drove him mad enough to kill himself. Do all parents love their kids? What about
Ryan? Did he love his parents? Did they love him?
And then I got up. At four a.m. I had the urge to write a letter. Maybe the havoc a letter
had wreaked that morning influenced me. I left Kumaon and went to the computer centre.
The twenty-four hour center had students working away on their resumes. The job
interviews were coming, yes, but not for us.
Dear Dad and Mom,
This is Ryan. I am sorry for typing this. I just had to write tonight to tell you what has
been going on in my life. And not all of it is good. But if I don’t tell you, who else will I
talk to… I kept writing for like two hours. I don’t think I made much sense at all times, but I
did write about a lot of things. About our GPAs, our Disco, our tainted grade sheets, Prof
Veera, and our stuck lube project. I also wrote about how they had never really loved me
enough to keep me with them. I kind of knew I was doing wrong, posing as Ryan and typing
away his life story, his deepest secrets. Simply said, Ryan would kill me if he found out. But
I kept writing until daybreak. I thought I’d done a good job with the text, better than Ryan for
sure. When I finally took the printout, it was ten pages long. It was easy to fake Ryan’s
signature, and his parents would hardly compare for identity. I had stolen the address from
Ryan’s room. It took thirty rupees of stamps to mail the damn thing.
“Where are you coming from,” Ryan said as he noticed me come to my room at dawn.
“Nothing. Just went for a walk,” I said.
Is lying bad?

novel
Silver Member
Posts: 405
Joined: 16 Aug 2015 14:42

Re: Five Point Someone What not to do at IIT Novel Chetan Bh

Unread post by novel » 30 Sep 2015 08:56

26

Meeting Daddy
PROF SAXENA HAD TO INTERRUPT HIS CLASS THAT DAY. A peon had delivered a
message to him, which he read and then turned to the class.
“Who are Hari, Ryan and Alok?” he asked, fully aware we sat in the front row.
We duly raised our hands.
“Go to Prof Cherian’s room. He wants to see you right now.”
I tried to be calm, but my heart was beating fast like it had a mind of its own. Could it be
the end of the lube project? Will Cherian hold another Disco? Will he hand me over to
the police for buying Neha an ice-cream? Did he realize I paid for his bricks as well?
Irrelevant thoughts darted back and forth until we reached Cherian’s of ice, where I
noticed there was a new lock.
Inside, Prof Shastri and Prof Veera sat next to Prof Cherian. No one asked us to sit down.
“Sorry to bring you boys out of class. But just thought we’ll talk to you while we were
still together,” Dean Shastri said.
Profs together is always trouble, I thought. We maintained a deep and meaningful silence.
“We have gone over your work with Prof Veera and your proposal, and we understand
you worked on it in your suspended semester,” Prof Shastri said.
We looked at Prof Veera.
“Yes sir, they worked for three months in my lab,” Prof Veera said.
“Now Prof Veera has made an appeal that we show your absence in the seventh semester
for research work instead of disciplinary reasons. Is that right?”
We had promised ourselves not to say a word in that room. It was a simple question, but
we didn’t want any more trouble.
“Answer Dean Shastri,” Prof Veera bade us.
“Yes sir,” Alok said.
I never made eye contact with Cherian, but his silence was unnerving. Why wasn’t the
kingpin in all this saying anything?
“Then I guess you will have a clean grade sheet, right?” Dean Shastri said.
Alok, Ryan and I nodded.
“Well, the final decision in these matters is with your head of department. And you well
know your mistakes are quite unpardonable. But this time, Prof Cherian has agreed to show
your seventh semester as a research semester.”
“What?” the three of us said in unison. Sometimes, even good news can be a shock.
“Yes, Prof Cherian has agreed. Congratulations and good work,” Prof Veera said.
I looked at Cherian for the first time. His face remained frozen, as if he was not part of
this room. What is up with him? Has he tripped out on grass, I wondered. Whatever the
reason, I wanted to get the hell out of that room before he changed his mind.
“Thank you sir. Thank you so much,” Alok said.
“Thank you sir. Can we go sir?” I said.
“Sure. We were leaving as well,” Dean Shastri said as he and Prof Veera stood up.
“By the way, how is this semester going?” Dean Shastri said.
“It is okay sir. We are still five credits short,” I replied.
“Short for what?” Dean Shastri said.
“We don’t have enough courses to finish the degree in four years. So we can’t apply for
any jobs or admissions,” I said.
“Well, did you take a full course-load?” Dean Shastri said.
“Of course. We have packed classes,” Ryan said.
“Well, again this is a departmental issue. That is why I tell these boys not to get into
disciplinary trouble,” Dean Shastri said and left the room.
Prof Veera patted my shoulder and left as well.
“Thank you sir,” I said to Cherian. I don’t know why I did it, kind of just felt like a good
exit line.
“Hari, can you stay back for a minute,” Prof Cherian spoke for the first time.
“Sure,” I said as Alok and Ryan gave me curious glances before vacating the room.
“Sit down,” Cherian said and pointing at a chair before him, he got up to lock the door.
Why did he ask me to stay back? Was he going to kill me?
“So five credits short, eh?” Cherian said. So he was listening to what people had said in
his room.
“Yes sir,” I said.
“You know if I sanction you all to work with Prof Veera this semester to follow through
on this project, we could get you laboratory credits.”
Now what was that supposed to mean – ‘if I sanction’? Was Cherian just reminding me of
how much he controlled my fate. Hell, I know that Sir. I am just excited to have a clean
grade sheet for now. Maybe one day after several years I might get a job. Can I go now?
“What are you thinking?” Cherian said.
“Uh, nothing sir,” I said, returning hastily from my thoughts.
“I said I could get you lab credits, that is if you are ready to work on this project this
semester. I know you are already overloaded,” Cherian said.
Had Cherian totally lost his mind? What was he saying? He was offering to rescue my
degree. And if I was ready to do some lab work. Hell, I’d live in the lab for the next four
months for five extra credits. I’d eat lubricants for lunch to get my degree on time.
“I think we can manage some extra lab work, sir,” I said when my Adam’s apple allowed
me.
“Good. Let me speak to Prof Veera and see what he can get you guys to do. If all is fine,
we’ll add five credits to this sem.”
“For all of us sir? I mean, Alok and Ryan too.”
“Yes, of course,” Prof Cherian said.
“Thank you sir,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead. This wasn’t a real moment.
“Thank you, Hari,” Cherian dismissed me.
“For what?” I said.
“Nothing. I think you should go back to Prof Saxena’s class. And start preparing for those
job interviews,” Cherian said.
“Of course, sir,” I said and stood up.
“And don’t behave in the interviews like you did in my viva,” Prof Cherian said and
started laughing. I tried to sense if there was malicious intent in his laughter, but he sounded
genuinely amused. I joined in the laughter.
“Right sir,” I said and left his room grinning like an idiot.
We had promised to drink less since the Disco, but Cherian’s news was huge and worth
intoxication.
“Open the second bottle,” Alok said, “today I am telling you Ryan, open the second
bottle.”
“Take it easy, Fatso. We still have assignments and lab work, not to mention those job
interviews,” I said.
“How? How did you do it Hari?” Ryan said, by now already high.
“I didn’t do anything. I really thought he was going mad. But that is what he said.” I
shrugged.
“You are awesome man,” Ryan said as he came forward and kissed my cheek. I hate it
when he does that.
“Which is the next interview then Alok?” I asked, pushing Ryan away.
“Okay guys, here is the deal,” Alok said, taking out a file full of brochures of companies,
“we are five-pointers, remember? So a lot of these jobs won’t even short-list us.”
“I don’t care man. Tell me any job that will,” Ryan said.
“Software. That is the hot sector this year. They hire in droves and don’t have GPA-based
short-listing criteria,” Alok said.
“I love software,” Ryan vouched.
“When is the interview?” I said.
“Well, a good one is in three weeks. What do you say? All of us apply? Who knows, we
can all be together,” Alok said.
“We will be,” I said and raised my glass.
“Cheers, to five credits,” we all said in unison.
The alarm rang at six a.m. The big interview day had arrived. For the first time that
semester, we skipped the first three classes. The last few weeks had been backbreaking
with Prof Veera’s lab work adding three hours to the already full fourteen hours a day
workload.
But today was the software company’s interview; the best chance for low-GPA students
like us to get employment.
“Wake up, Fatso. We need to dress up for these interviews,” I hollered.
“Will we get it?” Alok said.
“Not if you stay in bed,” Ryan said, pulling his quilt away.
IITians really dress up for interviews. For the first time in four years, I wore a tie. It was
a weird tie, with orange spots on black or the other way round, I forget. But it had worked
for a senior last year and Kumaonites considered it lucky. Ryan had got a new Italian silk tie
from his parents, bastard. For some reason, his gifts had increased the last few weeks. I
wondered if they had received my letter.
Ryan’s scooter was now engineless, so we had to take an auto to the institute. We couldn’t
walk and spoil the creases on our shirts and trousers, as Ryan pointed out.
“Technosoft Software inter views here,” said a sign in the insti building. There were over
fifty of us, all students from my batch dressed like we were attending our wedding.
“Apparently, half the batch has already got jobs. This is the best chance for the underperformers
like us,” Alok sighed.
I tried to think of the day when I had started relating so well to the word under-performer.
Was it the first quiz we messed up? Was it our first GPA? Was it the Disco? I guess there
were enough things we screwed up to earn our place in that club.
Amongst the three of us, Ryan had his interview first, followed by Alok and then me.
Before the interview, we took an aptitude test. It had simple IQ type questions that any
IITian could answer after a bottle of vodka in him.
“It is the interview. That is where they decide,” Alok said.
We submitted our grade sheets. The seventh semester column was blank, with ‘Research
Absence’, emblazoned across it. The rest of the semesters were pretty ordinary, lots of Cs
and Ds.
“Best of luck, Ryan,” Alok said as he hugged Ryan.
“Careful, don’t spoil the crease,” Ryan warned.
He came out after twenty minutes.
“How was it?” Alok said.
“Don’t know. Not too great I guess. They only asked about my low grades, and why I
wanted to do this and all that,” Ryan said.
“So what did you say,” I said.
“Just whatever. Let us just wait and see,” he said.
Alok went for twenty minutes. It was my turn as soon as he came out.
A thirty-year-old man welcomed me into the interview room.
“Hi, I am Kamal Desai. You are Hari, right?” he said.
“Yes sir,” I said.
“Sit down, sit down. And don’t sir me, call me Kamal.”
I sat down quietly. Kamal browsed through my files and then stopped at the grade sheet.
“Hmmm…5.48 overall, what happened?” He looked into my eyes.
It was right at this moment when I should have had my panic attack. But I didn’t this time.
I don’t know why, but ever since I saw Ryan’s plan fail, Alok jump and Cherian cry, the
whole wide world didn’t intimidate me anymore.
“I screwed up my first semester, sir…I mean Kamal. And it is really hard to come back in
IIT if you miss the first time.”
“That is very interesting. What happened in the first sem?” Kamal said
“Don’t know. Felt like enjoying college life a bit. I guess IIT is not that type of college,” I
said.
“Yes, IITs are truly different. Tell me, do you like IIT?” Kamal said.
It was a loaded question. A question no one had asked me before. I had thought I’d be
quick to say how I hated every living moment of it, but couldn’t. I remembered my first day
– the day Ryan saved me from Baku and his coke bottles. Four years, and soon it would be
time to leave this place. Did I like it here?
“I don’t know. There are things I’d rather forget. But I met my best friends here, and
hopefully this place will get me a job,” I said.
Kamal laughed. I could see him as one of the students ten years ago. I wondered what his
GPA had been in his time. That is the thing about IIT, you see people and you wonder what
their GPA was. You kind of need that to judge them. Sad.
Kamal asked me a few more questions about why I wanted to join the software sector.
Hell, I’d kiss any sector that would give me a job. And this was my one chance.
“It was very interesting talking to you. That’s all for now,” Kamal said as he escorted me
out of the room.
“Interesting talking to you” – I repeated the phrase three times in my head. What was that
supposed to mean? Just a polite way of saying I was weird and stood no chance? Or did
my pathetic resume file really charm him?
We waited another hour for the results. And that is when I realized that for once my luck
might have turned for the better.
“Hari, you and I have made it! You got an offer in Bombay and I got Delhi,” Alok said
and tugged at my shirt.
I became numb and couldn’t answer him for the next five minutes. A crowd of students
almost crushed me in their rush to the notice board. I was lost in my thoughts. Just a few
days ago, I was planning to spend an extra year to complete five credits and collect a tainted
grade sheet. Now I had a way out. And I had a job.
“I didn’t get it,” Ryan said.
“What?”
That had to be a mistake. How could Alok and I get a job while Ryan not?
“What happened?” I said.
“I don’t know. Fuck man, fuck-fuck-fuck,” Ryan said as he walked away from us.
“Where is he going?” Alok said.
“I don’t know,” I said.
For a couple of moments I forgot my own job. Ryan had not got a job? He was the
creative, confident, smart one. He was what I always wanted to be. So he had almost the
lowest grade in the insti, but this is Ryan, hello?
“We got a job, Hari. Six grand a month,” Alok said.
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” I said, suspending my concern for Ryan for a while. “So, we’re not just
five-point somethings anymore, we are five point somebodies.”
Alok spoke to his parents on the phone for two hours that night. I think he read out the whole
offer letter to them. His mother noted down the entire package – basic salary, travel
allowance and of course, the much needed medical benefits. Alok was thrilled.
I was still kind of numb. When good things happen to you, you kind of feel there is
something odd. Like this could be a dream. That Kamal Desai of Technosoft will call me
and say it was all a bad joke. And then again, the job was in Bombay.
“What is with you? You don’t seem so excited,” Alok said as he got out of the phone
booth.
“I am. I am. But it is in Bombay. What about Neha?” I said.
“What about her? You’ll still continue after IIT?” Alok asked naively, as if she had been
part of my curriculum here.
“Why not?” I said, placing my fingers in the booth’s grill.
Alok shrugged his shoulders. It was pointless talking to him. He would have rather
discussed the dental benefits that the job gave us.
“Where is Ryan?” I said.
“I think he went to the lab. He said he wanted to talk to Prof Veera,” I said.
“I hope he finds something. I think that is the other reason why I can’t be so fully excited,”
I said.
“It’s hard for him. He is only 5.01, and the last in class. It is difficult for him to get
placed,” Alok said.
“But he is so smart. I mean, the lube project is basically all his,” I said.
“GPAs matter,” Alok said and walked away.
Ryan did not get a job for another month. Our semester sped by really fast, especially since
we were so busy trying to meet our deadlines. Ryan kept applying to companies, but he only
got two more interviews. The last guy in the class always found it hardest to get a job. For
that matter, if Kamal Desai was not into honesty appreciation that day, I might have been in
Ryan’s situation.
“You guys can’t lose heart. Ryan, you must keep trying,” Prof Veera exhorted as we stood
in the lab.
Ryan’s scooter engine was running at full blast. Today’s mixture had an unusually bad
smell, stinking up the whole lab. I kind of wished this was not the optimal mix for our final
lubricant.
“I can’t Prof Veera. It is not going to work,” Ryan said, looking at the exhaust fumes
coming out of the engine.
“Of course, it will. But I do feel you are made for better things than a run-of-the mill
software job,” Prof Veera said.
“What do you mean?” Ryan said.
“I mean you should work in research. What is in a software job? You are contract labour
at cheap prices for foreigners. Ryan, you really think you will be happy there?”
“I would be,” Alok said.
“I am asking Ryan. You guys are friends, but you all could want different things you
know,” Prof Veera said.
“Like what? What else can I do?” Ryan said.
“Would you like to work as my RA?” Prof Veera said. “Research Assistant. I can get you
a two-year contract. Will not pay a lot, say two thousand a month. But you live on campus,
and you can continue research on lubricants.”
I saw Ryan’s face. The Rs 2000-number was writ large on his face; a third of what our
jobs would pay us. Would Ryan be able to accept that?
“It is an idea,” he said eventually.
“It is a great idea. And if we find an investor who is willing to commercialize your
product, who knows how successful you can be,” Prof Veera said.
Ryan looked at me. Somehow, I felt he wanted me to make a decision for him. I thought
about it less than I should have, but gave my answer.
“I think you will be happy doing this, Ryan. And I am sure you will find an investor for it
one day,” I said.
“I project the market for this product at atleast ten crore. You’ll get a royalty of, I don’t
know, say ten percent. Of course, if we find someone who invests in the factory first,” Prof
Veera said.
“I’ll do it,” Ryan smiled, “I am your RA, sir.”
“Yes!” I said and hi-fived him.
“I guess all of us are officially employed,” Alok said, “can we party now?”
“Of course, you should. But go easy on the vodka,” Prof Veera said but he was grinning.

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