His limbs were motionless, just like his father’s right side, the right knee bent in a way that would make you think Alok was boneless. He was still, and if I had to bet my money, I’d have said he was dead.
“If Alok makes it through this, I will write a book about our crazy days. I really will,” I swore. It is the kind of absurd promise you make to yourself when you are seriously messed up in the head and you haven’t slept for fifty hours straight…
The ambulance took us to AIIMS, the biggest hospital in Delhi. The blood and two sleepless nights had made me numb. I don’t know who called the ambulance, or who made the choice of hospital. Maybe it was the security guard. Everyone around me seemed to be acting urgently.
More medical professionals at the AIIMS emergency ward. This was a government hospital, so lots of people but little service. Ryan screamed at a few of them, shaking them into action.
“Nine stories?” one of the stretcher-bearers asked, probably wondering if it was even worth it to carry this heavy weight to the intensive care unit.
The doctor told us to leave the ICU and wait outside. Damn, I was tired of waiting. I sat outside on a wooden stool. Relatives of patients fighting for life inside sat around me; mothers, daughters, sons and fathers. I tried fighting sleep, but it wouldn’t work.
Ryan woke me up at noon. My entire left side had cramped.
“He is going to make it! Doctor said it is pretty bad, but he is going to make it!”
“What? How? I mean really?”
“Yes, he fell on his bottom, right into the fountain by the insti building. Can you believe that? Doctor said his fat bottom and the six inches of water cushioned the impact.”
Thank god Alok was a fatso. And thank god they made that useless fountain by the insti building. Eleven fractures in the legs and two in the arms isn’t so bad. Given how much Fatso eats, he could probably build his bones back in a day.
“I thought he’d die, I really thought he would,” I said and hugged Ryan. And then I started crying. I don’t know why I did an Alok then. It was embarrassing but kind of okay in a hospital.
“Is he awake?”
“Not much. But mostly because he hadn’t slept for two days. Let us go pinch his butt,” Ryan said.
We went inside the ICU and saw Alok asleep.
“Patient needs time to rest,” the nurse said and signalled us to keep quiet. We left the ICU and took a bus back to Kumaon.
On our way back in the bus, Ryan turned to me. “You know Hari, I owe Fatso a lot.”
“Really?” I said.
“If it weren’t for him, I would have never studied to even reach a five-pointer,” Ryan said.
I guess he was right. It was only he who brought us to our books. And now as he lay there, we didn’t have any books to study from.
“You think he will be okay?” Ryan said.
“He will Ryan. He will,” I said and hugged Ryan. For the first time, he felt more heavy than strong. He hugged me back tighter.
“I am sorry Hari,” Ryan said and his voice sounded like he was fighting back tears, “I am sorry.”
“It’s okay, we can get through this,” I said.
All of us needed time to rest. And we had time – four months of it – to take all the rest in the world.
22
—
Ryan Speaks
IBLEW IT. DAMN, FATSO WAS IN THE ICU BATTLING TO breathe. That really was disaster, eh? This whole Operation Pendulum was a mistake – in hindsight of course. It could all have been different you know. If Fatso had just not tried to save a buck and make that phone call, or better yet, if he hadn’t come at all. If nothing else, at least he should have known better than to jump. What is it with Alok, or for that matter, even with Hari? When will they grow up?
Now you will say, I really don’t want to accept that it was my fault. Ryan will blame anyone – his parents, his friends, his college, even god – anyone but himself. He is that boy with the grudge!
I don’t blame you. You are reading Hari’s version. How can he be the bad guy, right? After all, Hari is just a bumbling IITian who can’t get his grades or life in order. He is just kind-hearted and confused – hopelessly in love, physically unappealing, wants to keep his friends together, fumbles in vivas – whatever, whatever, whatever. Can’t help but feel sorry for that guy right?
Did it ever occur to you that at one level Mr Sorryboy has a layer to him that he doesn’t want to unpeel and will not bring up in his, yes that is the key word – HIS, book? Like he will never really bring up his parents. Or if you think he will reveal the big bad story about why his vivas get screwed up – sorry, no luck there. Or why does he always make fun of Alok’s family – I mean it is funny but it isn’t what you could call sensitive.
No, he won’t go into all that. Maybe I can touch on it at least (too much and he’ll edit it right out). But before that, I want to come back to Alok. Man – you don’t jump nine stories because some old bozos do a Disco on you. Or if you can’t pay for the car that will buy your sis a loser for the rest of her life. Why is he so stupid? If he was so mad, he should have pushed me instead.
You know what, despite what you might think, I like Alok. Yes, we fight, we argue and sometimes I hate his mugger-whiner guts. But at the end of the day, the guy lives a selfless life. He doesn’t really want to get that high average in the quiz. Damn, he doesn’t even want to be an IITian (but then, who would). It is something he does for his folks back home, day after day after day. Just as he has been serving his dad since he was twelve, locked in that room full of books, medicines and misery. That is why he never grew up. That is why he thinks its okay to – ugh – cry at twenty.
And that is why he never had fun. But does that mean he doesn’t want to? Why do you think he stuck with us? Or why did he come back? Because at one level, he knew that he wasn’t Venkat. He was just a boy who wanted to be an artist – and couldn’t become one. And he was a boy who never had real friends in his life – but he wanted them. And when I saved him from that hideous ragging, it wasn’t something that happened to him every day. So he stuck with me, and fought with me, and cursed me and hated me – while all he was doing was fighting, cursing and hating himself. I shook his convictions – one didn’t have to care for parents at all costs, one didn’t have to accept the system, one didn’t have to sacrifice fun. I pushed him, he resisted and liked it at the same time. And I pushed some more, and more, until I went too far. God, please let him live.
But Hari? Him I want to ask a few questions. Like what’s with your parents Hari? Is there going to be no chapter covering that? What about your Dad – the colonel in the army? What is the rule in the house – no TV, no music, no laughing loud? It is all for discipline, right?
And your mother – she turns silent for days, right? Oh, wait a minute, I am not supposed to talk about that. What about the belt your father hangs in the closet. Do you still dream of that sometimes, Hari? He told you not to answer back. If you answer your superiors back, you will be punished. Severely. Is it viva-time? Does it still hurt, Hari?
Okay, I think I am pushing it. Hari is okay, he just has some issues he doesn’t want to talk about. And just because one writes a book doesn’t mean one has to bare all. After all, this is a book about IIT – the place where one makes a future. What is the point of digging up the past?
So let me come back to IIT. Hari (with more vodka inside him than he can handle) once told me his view on friendship.
He said, “Ryan, you are stupid to want to sacrifice so much for your friends. In some ways, it is the same madness that Alok has for his family. Both of you have lost touch with what you really want.”
Profound eh? So, I asked him if he was in touch with what he wanted. And he nodded.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To be you.”
“What?” I hadn’t heard right!
“I want Neha,” he said and passed out, the horny bastard.
So what’s the deal her
e – he may not live for others, but he wants to be like others? Confused, I tell you.
23
—
Kaju-burfi
TWO MONTHS INTO OUR SUSPENDED SEMESTER, ALOK finally returned to Kumaon. The casts were still on, and doctors said that even when they came off, he would be left with a slight limp in his left leg. Small price to pay for one’s life I guess, though it meant Alok would never forget that night for the rest of his life.
We visited him daily in the hospital, as we had nothing else to do anyway. We never discussed going home for the semester. Somehow, we knew we had to stay in Kumaon and be near each other. No one really talked to us much. If they did, they only wanted to know the inside story – what we did, what was the Disco like, why did Alok jump etc. It suited us to stick to our rooms and limit our outside trips to the hospital.
Alok swore us into keeping his high jump a secret from his family. His bones healed gradually and after a month he could at least hop-and-walk to the toilet and not embarrass himself with company there. Though docs had warned us not to mention the fall, Ryan couldn’t resist asking once, “Stupid or what?”
But Alok kept silent. A couple of times, Prof Veera visited at the hospital. He kept our spirits high, saying how he would try to get us to take extra course-work in the last semester to complete our credits. He even unsuccessfully tried talking to Cherian on a mercy plea.
Prof Veera even came to Kumaon, to welcome Alok back. “So Tiger, you are back in your den,” he greeted.
Alok was sitting on my bed, his torso propped up on pillows. “Sir, you shouldn’t have bothered to come.”
“No big deal,” Prof Veera dismissed and took out a box from his bag, “Here have some sweets. On Alok’s return home and for something else.”
Alok looked at the box and almost snatched it out of Prof Veera’s hand. When it comes to food, Fatso forgets all formalities. The box contained kaju-burfi, his all-time favourite.
“You shouldn’t have, sir,” he said, the three pieces stuffed in his mouth muffling his voice.
“Just enjoy guys. Thirteen bones broken and home in two months, that is worth celebrating,” Prof Veera said, stroking Alok’s head.
We were happy at Alok’s return too, and now at the box of kaju-burfis. If only Alok would leave the box alone for one second.
“Sir, what was the other reason for the sweets?” Ryan eventually enquired.
“Yes, of course. I have some good news for you guys finally,” Prof Veera said.
“What? Cherian wants to do another Disco?” Ryan said.
“Easy Ryan,” Prof Veera said, “I know it has not been cool for you guys. But this time I arranged it through the Dean.”
“What?” Alok and I said in unison.
“You remember the lube project? Well, Prof Cherian never approved further research, but I went to the Dean and said we would like to revise and re-submit our proposal based on Prof Cherian’s feedback.”
“I am not working on any feedback from that bastard,” Ryan declared.
“Will you relax, Ryan? Sir, why would we re-submit?” I said.
“That is where lies my idea. If they allowed us to re-submit, we will do some more experimentation in the lab to prove that our lube additives do have potential. In some ways, doing some of the research at the proposal stage,” Prof Veera said.
“And?” Ryan squinted his eyes.
“And that means you guys can help do those experiments. I asked the Dean if he would allow you guys to work in the lab to revise the work we had done, since it will be a productive use of your time. And the good news is the Dean agreed. Of course, on a non-credit basis.”
Ryan snatched the box away from Alok’s hands, took two pieces of the sweets, and sat down to light a cigarette. “Will someone explain what will be the point of this? Working our butts off for no reason,” he said.
“There maybe a benefit,” Prof Veera said, pulling the cigarette out of Ryan’s mouth and stubbing it on the floor, “for one, you could later explain the absence in your grade sheet. And I don’t know, if they like the proposal this time, you may be allowed extra credit for this work in the next semester.”
“Really?” Alok said, “You mean we will be able to graduate like normal students, in four years?”
“Wow! Sounds like you gave it a lot of thought Prof Veera,” I said.
“Cherian will never allow it. I am not falling for this,” Ryan said.
“Maybe he won’t. But if the work is good and the Dean likes it, who knows? At least you have something to do in your spare time.”
“We have plenty to do in our spare time,” Ryan said.
“Ryan, will you talk properly to Prof Veera,” I said. Somehow, the Disco had changed my attitude toward Ryan. It had become easier for me to tell him things he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t argue much either.
“It is okay Hari. Ryan is obviously mistrustful of everything about the insti. But guys, this is the only chance you got. And if you do more work on the lube proposal, who knows, we might get an industry sponsor this time?”
“Sir is right, Ryan. And we can’t do this without you. It is your project.”
“You guys really want to do this?” Ryan said.
“Yes,” Alok and I said.
“On one condition then,” Ryan said.
“What?” Prof Veera said.
“I get the rest of the kaju-burfi,” Ryan said.
“Ten o’ clock in my lab then, we start tomorrow,” Prof Veera said even as we burst into laughter.
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 stuff 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.