face red. ‘I don’t need
college. I’d be dead soon anyway,’ I said.
‘You okay?’
Sunil said. ‘Let me get some more coffee.’
I’d have
preferred he gave the extra money to me instead of more coffee, but
kept silent. Over my second cup, I gave Sunil a summary of the story
so far - my childhood, Kota, my failure, Baba’s death.
Sunil placed his
empty cup on the table with a clink. ‘So now you have loans.
And no source to pay them?’ he summarised.
‘My home,
maybe. But it is not worth much. And I won’t have a place to
live in after that.’
‘And the
property dispute?’
I had mentioned the
property dispute to Sunil in brief. I had not given him specific
details. ‘That’s an old dispute,’ I said, surprised
Sunil caught on to it.
‘What property
is this?’
‘Agricultural
land,’ I said dully.
‘Where?’
he said.
‘Ten
kilometres outside the city.’
Sunil’s eyes
opened wide. ‘That’s quite close. How big is the land?’
‘Thirty acres.
Our share is fifteen acres’
‘And what does
your uncle say?’
‘Nothing. He
wants the full thing. It is a mess. Many papers are forged. The case
has been going on for twelve years’ I finished my beverage. ‘So
yes, I’m fucked. Maybe they can sell my house and recover the
money. Thanks for the coffee.’
I stood up to leave.
‘What will you
do?’ Sunil said, still in his seat and pensive.
‘I will join a
shady part-time college and take whatever job I can get.' ‘Wait,
sit down,’ Sunil said.
‘What?’
I sat down.
‘I’ll
suggest something to you. And I will help you with it as well. But I
need a cut. A big cut.’
‘Cut?’ I
said. Cut of what, my fucked-up life?
‘So, ten per
cent. Done?’ Sunil said.
‘Of what?’
‘Of whatever
you make. Ten per cent equity in your venture.’
‘What
venture?’ I said, exasperated.
‘You will open
a college.’
‘What?!’
‘Relax,’
Sunil said.
‘Do you take
bhang like the sadhus on the ghat?’ I said. How else could I
account for his hallucinations?
‘See, you have
the land. That’s the most important part. Land close to the
city,’ he said.
‘I don’t have it. The case has been dragging with no end in sight.’
‘We can fix
that.’
‘We? Who? And
it is agricultural land. You can only grow crops there. It’s
the law,’ I said.
‘There are
people in our country who are above the law,’ Sunil said.
‘Who?’ I said.
‘MLA
Shukla-ji,’ he said.
‘Shukla who?’
‘Our MLA,
Raman Lal Shukla. You’ve never heard of him?’ Sunil
said.
‘You mentioned
him earlier on the phone’ I said.
‘Yes. I have
done twenty events with his blessings. How else could I get city
authority approvals? I personally take his cut to him. I will take
you too. For my own cut,’ he said and winked at me.
‘Cut?’
‘Yes, cut. Ten
per cent. Forgot already?’
‘What exactly
are you saying?’
‘Let us meet
Shukla-ji. Bring whatever property papers you have.’ ‘You
serious?’
‘Do I look
like someone who is not serious?’ Sunil said.
I saw his gelled
hair and the flashy sunglasses perched on his head. I reserved my
opinion.
‘You want me
to open a college? I haven’t even been to college,’ I
said.
‘Most people
who own colleges in India haven’t. Stupid people go to college.
Smart people own them,’ said Sunil. ‘I’ll set it up
for next week. And remember.’
‘What?’
He snapped his
fingers. ‘My ten per cent.’
Aarti and I went for
a long boat ride. Her green dupatta flew backward in the early
morning breeze. ‘Decided what to do next?’ she asked.
‘I am
exploring private engineering colleges.’
‘And?’
‘Too expensive
and too shady,’ I said.
I paused to rest.
The boat stood still in the middle of the river. I wondered if Aarti
would come and sit next to me to massage my palms. She didn’t.
‘So? What
next?’ Aarti said.
‘A
correspondence degree and a job.’
‘What about
the
college. I’d be dead soon anyway,’ I said.
‘You okay?’
Sunil said. ‘Let me get some more coffee.’
I’d have
preferred he gave the extra money to me instead of more coffee, but
kept silent. Over my second cup, I gave Sunil a summary of the story
so far - my childhood, Kota, my failure, Baba’s death.
Sunil placed his
empty cup on the table with a clink. ‘So now you have loans.
And no source to pay them?’ he summarised.
‘My home,
maybe. But it is not worth much. And I won’t have a place to
live in after that.’
‘And the
property dispute?’
I had mentioned the
property dispute to Sunil in brief. I had not given him specific
details. ‘That’s an old dispute,’ I said, surprised
Sunil caught on to it.
‘What property
is this?’
‘Agricultural
land,’ I said dully.
‘Where?’
he said.
‘Ten
kilometres outside the city.’
Sunil’s eyes
opened wide. ‘That’s quite close. How big is the land?’
‘Thirty acres.
Our share is fifteen acres’
‘And what does
your uncle say?’
‘Nothing. He
wants the full thing. It is a mess. Many papers are forged. The case
has been going on for twelve years’ I finished my beverage. ‘So
yes, I’m fucked. Maybe they can sell my house and recover the
money. Thanks for the coffee.’
I stood up to leave.
‘What will you
do?’ Sunil said, still in his seat and pensive.
‘I will join a
shady part-time college and take whatever job I can get.' ‘Wait,
sit down,’ Sunil said.
‘What?’
I sat down.
‘I’ll
suggest something to you. And I will help you with it as well. But I
need a cut. A big cut.’
‘Cut?’ I
said. Cut of what, my fucked-up life?
‘So, ten per
cent. Done?’ Sunil said.
‘Of what?’
‘Of whatever
you make. Ten per cent equity in your venture.’
‘What
venture?’ I said, exasperated.
‘You will open
a college.’
‘What?!’
‘Relax,’
Sunil said.
‘Do you take
bhang like the sadhus on the ghat?’ I said. How else could I
account for his hallucinations?
‘See, you have
the land. That’s the most important part. Land close to the
city,’ he said.
‘I don’t have it. The case has been dragging with no end in sight.’
‘We can fix
that.’
‘We? Who? And
it is agricultural land. You can only grow crops there. It’s
the law,’ I said.
‘There are
people in our country who are above the law,’ Sunil said.
‘Who?’ I said.
‘MLA
Shukla-ji,’ he said.
‘Shukla who?’
‘Our MLA,
Raman Lal Shukla. You’ve never heard of him?’ Sunil
said.
‘You mentioned
him earlier on the phone’ I said.
‘Yes. I have
done twenty events with his blessings. How else could I get city
authority approvals? I personally take his cut to him. I will take
you too. For my own cut,’ he said and winked at me.
‘Cut?’
‘Yes, cut. Ten
per cent. Forgot already?’
‘What exactly
are you saying?’
‘Let us meet
Shukla-ji. Bring whatever property papers you have.’ ‘You
serious?’
‘Do I look
like someone who is not serious?’ Sunil said.
I saw his gelled
hair and the flashy sunglasses perched on his head. I reserved my
opinion.
‘You want me
to open a college? I haven’t even been to college,’ I
said.
‘Most people
who own colleges in India haven’t. Stupid people go to college.
Smart people own them,’ said Sunil. ‘I’ll set it up
for next week. And remember.’
‘What?’
He snapped his
fingers. ‘My ten per cent.’
Aarti and I went for
a long boat ride. Her green dupatta flew backward in the early
morning breeze. ‘Decided what to do next?’ she asked.
‘I am
exploring private engineering colleges.’
‘And?’
‘Too expensive
and too shady,’ I said.
I paused to rest.
The boat stood still in the middle of the river. I wondered if Aarti
would come and sit next to me to massage my palms. She didn’t.
‘So? What
next?’ Aarti said.
‘A
correspondence degree and a job.’
‘What about
the