“Of course they will. Just means we weren’t there when the rest of the class shook hands with Cherian and parents applauded.”
I wondered if it made sense to brush my teeth or eat at Sasi’s first.
“Sasi’s?” Ryan read my mind.
Man, four years of freaking craziness to get a degree, and when the time came to collect, Ryan and I sat in our pajamas circling our paranthas with dabs of butter. I really don’t deserve this degree!
“Hari, you know Dad said he wants to invest in the lubricant project. He is in touch with Prof Veera,” Ryan said as Sasi looked at us slyly. Even he knew we should have been at the convocation.
“That is great.”
“It’s crap. I told them I don’t want their money,” Ryan said.
“Are you an idiot?”
“And then guess what they said? They said they thought I would be okay because of that letter,” Ryan said.
“What letter?” I said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“This letter,” Ryan said and took out a fat envelope, “and guess what I noticed on the cover?”
Yep, there it was. The thirty bucks of postage that I put on it was stamped all over.
“So you wrote to them?” I said, still appearing as casual as I could.
“Okay Mr Hari, will you give it up. You made all the effort of typing the damn thing, could you at least have been careful while writing the address? This scrawny handwriting of yours is a dead giveaway,” Ryan said.
“What?” I said. Crap, I should have thought of that.
Ryan got up and mock punched me several times over. “You ass, when did you become so senti?” he said as I wriggled my way out of his punches. We burst out laughing. I looked into his eyes. He wasn’t mad, maybe even a bit glad. But that changed fast into a serious expression. Yes, Ryan will never admit to wanting this.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said.
“Oh well, I must have been drunk that day. And I do think your parents are nice. Anyway, it is a good project. Your dad will probably make money out of it.” The big picture, that’s what I should focus on, not spoil things with paltry confidences on letter-writing.
“I am sure he will. Prof Veera accepted his funding.”
“Prof Veera knows what he is doing,” I said wisely. “When the hell will Alok come back? Do you think we missed much?”
“All convos are the same. Cherian gives medals to nine pointers. Five-pointers collect their degrees in the background like extras,” Ryan shrugged.
I saw a silhouette limping towards us from a distance.
“Alok!” I shouted.
“You fuckers! Chomping paranthas while the country got another batch of engineers,” Alok said.
“Whatever Fatso, you want one or not?” Ryan said, making the rare gesture of offering his plate.
“Of course I do. After all that Cherianspeak for an hour,” Alok said, putting out his tongue to indicate extreme exhaustion.
“Where are the parents?” Ryan said.
“Invited to the faculty club for lunch. I came back looking for you,” Alok said.
“Did Cherian talk a lot? You know I was dreaming of him,” I said.
“Really? And I thought you only dreamt of his daughter wearing nothing,” Ryan teased.
“Shut up.” I turned to Alok. “So what did he say?”
“Nothing. Just the same IITians-are-the-best crap. Though he did mention one thing,” Alok said.
“What?” Ryan and I cried in unison.
“That we need to look at the system. Sometimes the pressure is too much. Something about lesser tests and more projects etc. Didn’t really follow it – I was dozing off a bit you know,” Alok said “You suck man,” Ryan said, subsiding back into his seat.
“Yeah right. At least I made it on my last day of IIT,” Alok said virtuously.
Last day, Alok’s words resonated in my mind. Man, how we had waited for this to get over. And finally it had. Maybe not in style, maybe not with standing ovations or medals, but in our pajamas and eating paranthas at a street-side vendor, we had made it. Yes, the three of us were IIT graduates. Not the ones that would make it to the cover of Time magazine, but at least we could be called survivors. “Yes, it was over!” I tried telling myself – but at one level, it felt sad.
“It really is over then, eh?” Ryan echoed my thoughts.
“Yes it is. Time to enter the real world – as they said at the convo,” Alok said, showing off.
I wish I had never met Neha. Separating from her would hurt.
“Have you talked to Neha?” Ryan asked, uncannily reading my mind.
“I will. We are meeting tonight,” I said casually.
“Does Cherian know?” Alok said
“I don’t think so,” I said. He may have relented here and there, but me and Neha together was still a no-no.
“And what about us?” Ryan said.
We looked at each other. Hell, this was going to be hard. Why is it that when the bad things about IIT come to an end, the good things end as well. It sucks to leave the hostel, to not be able to see your friends every day.
“We’ll be friends. For fucking forever and ever,” I vowed filmily and got up to give a group hug.
“Enough guys, this is a decent establishment,” Ryan said and we sat back, laughing an embarrassed laugh.
That was the last time we were together at IIT. After that, our lives changed. But I don’t really want to get into all that. This is an IIT book after all.
And I didn’t know what would happen between Neha and me. I mean I could tell you now what happened, but I don’t really want to go into all that either.
Yes, that night we met and said we loved each other and other sappy stuff. And we talked about practical things like how to stay in touch And we promised to keep meeting forever and ever.
But forever is a long time you know, even longer than the four years at IIT. A lot can happen between now and forever, and it will – it is just not something we have to talk about in this book. The convocation was over. Our bags were packed, and that was the last time the three of us were together in IIT.
Alok started his job in Delhi, and with no Ryan and me to bother him, totally immersed himself in it. As a result, his software company sent him to the US for six months. The US assignment earned him a dollar stipend that in one stroke wiped out his family woes. A spanking new car arrived at the Guptas, and I was tempted to consider marrying his sister. Alok’s father got a full-time nurse, and his mother is considering leaving her job to do private tuitions. I think she needs to keep a job just to keep sane, but who listens to me?
Ryan worked with Prof Veera, and with all that cash from his dad, is investing in a factory about two hours from Delhi. Local villagers from nearby have been hired for construction, including some women. Sick bastard that he is, he often goes there to check them out. I think he fancies someone called Roopkunwar more than the others – and I think there is a disaster waiting to happen.
I went off to Bombay and, like most responsibilities in my life, hated it. I can’t live in cramped cities, and I can’t stay away from Neha. In the first three months, half of my salary went in rent for a pigeonhole in the Siberian end of town. The other half went mostly in phone calls to Neha.
God, I missed her – her hair, her laugh, her eyes, her holding my hand and everything else. Sure, I missed Ryan and Alok as well, but it was not the same. I pined for Neha.
She finished her fashion design course and had an offer to work for a local designer. I think she is trying to find something here in Bombay. It should work out, given this city is so fashion crazy.
Meanwhile, next month I am going to Delhi for Alok’s didi’s wedding. All of us will be there – Alok, Ryan, Neha and me. And that is what is keeping me going for now. You know, it is strange, I might have passed out of IIT, but in some ways, my soul is still there. Maybe in the hostel corridors, or at Sasi’s, or at the insti roof…
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Chetan Bhagat, Five Point Someone
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