Revolution 2020: Love, Corruption, Ambition

by Chetan Bhagat

  ‘The whole system is fucked up. One person can’t change it.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘We all have to do our bit. For change we need a revolution. A real revolution can only happen when people ask themselves – what is my sacrifice?’

  ‘Sounds like your newspaper’s tagline,’ I mocked.

  He had no answer. I stood up to leave. He followed me out. I decided not to call my car, but to walk out into the lane and find it.

  ‘What did you come here for?’ Raghav said. ‘I can’t believe you came here to check on me.’

  ‘I had work in the area. My car needed servicing. I thought I will visit you while it gets fixed,’ I said.

  ‘Nice of you to come. You should check on Aarti too sometimes,’ he said.

  I went on red-alert at the mention of her name.

  ‘Yeah. How is she doing?’ I said.

  ‘Haven’t met her in a while, but she seems stressed. I have to make it up to her. You should call her, she will like it,’ he said.

  I nodded and came out of his office.

  37

  I lay down in my comfortable bed at night. However, I could not sleep a wink. There were three missed calls from Aarti. I didn’t call back. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say to her.

  How did it go? she messaged me.

  I realised she’d keep asking until I told her something. I called her.

  ‘Why weren’t you picking up?’ she said.

  ‘Sorry, I had the dean at home. He left just now.’

  ‘You met Raghav?’ she asked impatiently.

  ‘Yeah,’ I sighed.

  ‘So?’

  ‘He had people in his office. I couldn’t bring it up,’ I said.

  ‘Gopal, I hope you realise that until I break up with him, I am cheating on him with you. Should I talk to him?’

  ‘No, no, wait. I will meet him in private.’

  ‘And I need to speak to my parents too,’ she said.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I have three prospective grooms lined up for meetings next week. All from political families.’

  ‘Have your parents gone insane?’ I exploded.

  ‘When it comes to daughters, Indian parents are insane,’ she said. ‘I can stall them, but not for long.’

  ‘Okay, I will fix this,’ I said.

  I pulled two pillows close to me.

  ‘See, this is what happens after sex. Roles reverse. The girl has to chase now.’

  ‘Nothing like that, Aarti. Give me two days.’

  ‘Okay. Else I am speaking to Raghav myself. And in case he asks, nothing ever happened between us.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  ‘I never cheated on him. We decided to get together, but only did so after the break-up. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ I said.

  Sometimes I feel girls like to complicate their lives.

  ‘He will be devastated otherwise,’ she finished.

  I ended the call and lay down on the bed, exhausted.

  My eyes hurt due to the extra white clothes people had worn for the funeral. I looked at people’s faces. I could not recognise any of them.

  ‘Whose funeral is it?’ I asked a man next to me.

  We stood at the ghats. The body, I saw, was small. They took it straight to the water.

  ‘Why are they not cremating it?’ I asked. And then I realised why. It was a child. I went close to the body and removed the shroud. It was a little boy. In sunglasses.

  ‘Who killed him?’ I screamed but the words would not come out …

  I woke up screaming at the white ceiling of my bedroom and the bright lights I had forgotten to switch off. It was 3:00 a.m. Just a nightmare, I told myself.

  I tossed and turned in bed, but could not go back to sleep.

  I thought about Raghav. The guy was finished. His paper would shut down. He would find it tough to get a job, at least in Varanasi. And wherever he was, Shukla’s men could hurt him.

  I thought about Aarti – my Aarti – my reason to live. I could be engaged to her next week, married in three months. In a year, I could be an MLA. My university approvals would come within the space of a heartbeat. I could expand into medicine, MBA, coaching, aviation. Given how much Indians cared about education, the sky would be the limit. Forget Aarti becoming a flight attendant, I could buy her a plane. If I played my cards right, I could also rise up the party ranks. I had lived alone too long. I could start a family, and have lots of beautiful kids with Aarti. They would grow up and take over the family businesses and political empire. This is how people become big in India. I could become really big.

  But what happens to Raghav? The dead-alive Keshav asked me. I don’t care, I told him. If he went down, it is because of his own stupidity. If he were smart, he would have realised that stupid bravado will lead to nothing. There would be no revolution in this country by 2020. There wouldn’t be one by 2120! This is India, nothing changes here. Fuck you, Raghav.

  But Keshav was not done with me. What kind of politician will you be, Gopal?

  ‘I don’t want to answer you. You are scaring me, go away,’ I said out aloud, even though there was nobody in the room. Really, I knew that.

  What about Aarti? A voice whispered within me.

  I love her!

  What about her? Does she love you?

  Yes, Aarti loves me. She made love to me. She wants me to be her husband, I screamed in my head until it hurt.

  But will she love you if she knows who you really are? A corrupt, manipulative bastard?

  ‘I work hard. I am a successful man,’ I said aloud again, my voice startling me.

  But are you a good person?

  The clock showed 5:00 a.m. Day was breaking outside.

  I went for a walk around the campus. My mind calmed a little in the fresh morning air. Little birds chirped on dew-drenched trees. They didn’t care about money, the Mercedes or the bungalow. They sang, for that was what they wanted to do. And it felt beautiful. For the first time, I felt proud of the trees and birds on the campus.

  I realised why Keshav kept coming to me. Once upon a time, I was Keshav – sweet, innocent and unaware of the world. As life slapped me about several times, and thrashed the innocence out of me, I had killed my Keshav, for the world didn’t care about sweetness. Then why didn’t I crush Raghav completely yesterday? Maybe that Keshav hasn’t died, I told myself. Maybe that innocent, good part of us never dies – we just trample upon it for a while.

  I looked at the sky, hoping to get guidance from above – from god, my mother or Baba. Tears streamed down my face. I began to sob uncontrollably. I sat down under a tree and cried for an hour. Just like that.

  Sometimes life isn’t about what you want to do, but what you ought to do.

  Shukla-ji was eating apples in the jail verandah. A constable sat next to him, peeling and slicing.

  ‘Gopal, my son, come, come,’ Shukla-ji said. He wore a crisp white kurta-pyjama that glistened in the morning sun.

  I sat on the floor. ‘Had a small favour to ask you,’ I said.

  ‘Of course,’ he said.

  I looked at the constable. ‘Oh, him. He is Dhiraj, from my native place. Dhiraj, my son and I need to talk.’

  The constable left.

  ‘I’ve told him I’ll get him promoted,’ Shukla-ji said and smiled.

  ‘I have come with a strange request,’ I said.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Shukla-ji, can you help me hire some … call girls? You mentioned them long ago.’

  Shukla-ji laughed so hard, apple juice dripped out of his mouth.

  ‘I am serious,’ I said.

  ‘My boy has become big. So, you want women?’

  ‘It’s not for me.’

  Shukla-ji patted my knee and winked conspiratorially. ‘Of course not. Tell me, how old are you?’

  ‘I will turn twenty-four next week,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, your birthday is
coming?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, on November 11,’ I said.

  ‘That’s great. You are old enough. Don’t be shy,’ he said, ‘we all do it.’

  ‘Sir, it’s for the inspectors. We have a visit next week,’ I said. ‘I want to increase my fee. They control the decision.’

  He frowned. ‘Envelopes won’t do it for them?’

  ‘This one inspector likes women. I have news from other private colleges in Kanpur.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ Shukla-ji said. He took out his cellphone from a secret pocket in his pyjamas. He scrolled through his contacts and gave me a number.

  ‘His name is Vinod. Call him and give my reference. Give him your requirements. He’ll do it. When do you need them?’

  ‘I don’t have the exact date yet,’ I said and began to stand up.

  ‘Wait,’ Shukla-ji said, pulling my hand and making me sit down again. ‘You also enjoy them. It gets harder after marriage. Have your fun before that.’

  I smiled absently.

  ‘How is it going with the DM’s daughter?’

  ‘Good,’ I said. I wanted to say bare minimum on the topic.

  ‘You are going to ask her parents? Or give her the love bullshit?’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ I said. ‘I have to go, Shukla-ji. There’s an accounts meeting today.’

  Shukla-ji realised I didn’t want to chat. He walked me to the jail exit.

  ‘Life may not offer you the same chance twice,’ he said in parting.

  The iron door clanged shut between us.

  38

  The calendar showed tenth November – my last day as a twenty-three-year-old. I spent the morning at my desk. The students’ representatives came to meet me. They wanted to organise a college festival. I told them they could, provided they got sponsors. After the student meeting, I had to deal with a crisis. Two classrooms had water seepage in the walls. I had to scream at the contractor for an hour before he sent people to fix it.

  At noon my lunch-box arrived from home. I ate bhindi, dal and rotis. Alongside, I gave Aarti a call. She didn’t pick up. I had back-to-back meetings right after lunch. I wouldn’t be able to speak to her later. I tried her number again.

  ‘Hello,’ an unfamiliar female voice said.

  ‘Who’s this?’ I said.

  ‘This is Bela, Aarti’s colleague from guest relations. You are Gopal, right? I saw your name flash,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah. Is she there?’

  ‘She went to attend to a guest. Should I ask her to call you?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, and happy birthday in advance,’ she said.

  ‘How did you know?’ I said.

  ‘Well, she’s working hard to make your gift … oops!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you,’ Bela said. ‘I mean, it’s a surprise. She’s making your birthday gift. It’s so cute. She’s also ordered a cake … Listen, she will kill me if she finds out I told you.’

  ‘Relax, I won’t mention it to her. But if you tell me, I can also plan something for her.’

  ‘You guys are so sweet. Childhood friends, no?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, so what’s the plan?’

  ‘Well, she will tell you she can’t meet you on your birthday. You will sulk but she will say she has work. However, after work she will come to your place in the afternoon with a cake and the gift.’

  ‘Good that you told me. I will be at home then and not in meetings,’ I said.

  ‘You work on your birthday?’ she said.

  ‘I work all the time,’ I said. ‘Is she back?’

  ‘Not yet, I will ask her to call you,’ she said. ‘But don’t mention anything. Act like you don’t know anything.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said and ended the call.

  It was time. I called Vinod.

  ‘Vinod?’ I said.

  ‘Who’s this?’ he said.

  ‘I am Gopal. I work with MLA Shukla,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, so tell me?’ he said.

  ‘I want girls,’ I said.

  He cut the call. I called again but he didn’t pick up. I kept my phone aside.

  After ten minutes I received a call from an unknown landline number.

  ‘Vinod here. You wanted girls?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Overnight or hourly basis?’

  ‘Huh?’ I said. ‘Afternoon. One afternoon.’

  ‘We have happy-hour prices for afternoon. How many girls?’

  ‘One?’ I said doubtfully.

  ‘Take two. I’ll give a good price. Half off for the other one.’

  ‘One should be okay.’

  ‘I’ll send two. If you want two, keep both. Else, choose one.’

  ‘Done. How much?’

  ‘What kind of girl do you want?’

  I didn’t know what kinds he had. I had never ‘ordered’ a call girl before. Did he have a menu?

  ‘S … somebody nice?’ I said, like a total amateur.

  ‘English-speaking? Jeans and all?’ he offered.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Indian, Nepali or white?’ he said. Varanasi wasn’t too far from the Nepal border.

  ‘You have white girls?’ I said.

  ‘It’s a tourist town. Some girls stay back to work. Hard to find, but we can do it.’

  ‘Send me Indian girls who look decent. Who won’t attract too much attention in a college campus.’

  ‘College?’ Vinod said, shocked. ‘We normally do hotels.’

  ‘I own the college. It’s okay.’

  Vinod agreed after I told him about GangaTech, and how he had to bring the girls to the director’s bungalow.

  ‘So when do you need them?’

  ‘Two o’clock onwards, all afternoon, till six,’ I said.

  ‘Twenty thousand,’ he said.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ I said.

  ‘For Shukla-ji’s reference. I charge foreigners that much for one.’

  ‘Ten.’

  ‘Fifteen.’

  I heard a knock on my door.

  ‘Done. At two tomorrow. GangaTech on Lucknow Highway,’ I whispered and ended the call.

  ‘The faculty meeting,’ Shrivastava said from the door.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ I said. ‘Please come in, Dean sir.’

  I asked the peon to place more chairs for our twenty faculty members.

  ‘Students tell me it’s your birthday tomorrow, Director Gopal,’ the dean said. The faculty went into orgasms. It’s fun being the boss. Everyone sucks up to you.

  ‘Just another day,’ I said.

  ‘The students want to cut a cake for you,’ the dean said.

  ‘Please don’t. I can’t,’ I said. The very thought of cutting a cake in front of two hundred people embarrassed me.

  ‘Please, sir,’ said Jayant, a young faculty member. ‘Students look up to you. It will mean a lot to them.’

  I wondered if the students would still look up to me if they knew about my specifications to Vinod.

  ‘They have already ordered a ten-kilo cake, sir,’ Shrivastava said.

  ‘Make it quick,’ I said.

  ‘Ten minutes, right after classes end at one,’ the dean said.

  The faculty meeting commenced. Everyone updated me about their course progress.

  ‘Let’s look at placements soon,’ I said, ‘even though our passing out batch is two years away.’

  ‘Jayant is the placement coordinator,’ the dean said.

  ‘Sir, I am already meeting corporates,’ Jayant said.

  ‘What is the response?’ I said.

  ‘We are new, so it is tough. Some HR managers want to know their cut,’ Jayant said.

  ‘Director Gopal, as you may know …’ the dean began but I interrupted him.

  ‘HR managers want a cut if they hire from our colleges, correct?’ I said.

  ‘Right, sir,’ Jayant said.

  Every aspect of running a private college invol
ved bribing someone. Why would placements be an exception? But other members seemed surprised.

  ‘Personal payout?’ gasped Mrs Awasthi, professor of mechanical engineering.

  Jayant nodded.

  ‘But these are managers of reputed companies,’ she said, still in shock.

  ‘Mrs Awasthi, this is not your department. You better update me on applied mechanics, your course,’ I said.

  The maids had prepared a lavish dinner with three subzis, rotis and dal. I didn’t touch it. I lay in bed and checked my phone. Aarti hadn’t returned my calls all day. However, I didn’t call her again.

  I thought again about my plan.

  At midnight, Aarti called me.

  ‘Happy birthday to you,’ Aarti sang on the other line.

  ‘Hey, Aarti,’ I said but she didn’t listen.

  ‘Happy birthday to you,’ she continued to sing, elevating her pitch, ‘happy birthday to you, Gopal. Happy birthday to you.’

  ‘Okay, okay, we are not kids anymore,’ I said.

  She continued her song.

  ‘Happy birthday to you. You were born in the zoo. With monkeys and elephants, who all look just like you,’ she said. She sang like she did to me in primary school.

  Corny as hell but it brought tears of joy to my eyes. I couldn’t believe I had made my plan.

  ‘Somebody is very happy,’ I said.

  ‘Of course, it is your birthday. That’s why I didn’t call or message you all day.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  ‘What “oh”? You didn’t even notice, did you?’ she sounded peeved.

  ‘Of course, I did. Even my staff wondered why my phone hadn’t beeped all day in office.’

  I got off the bed and switched on the lights.

  ‘Anyway, I thought hard about what to give you, who has everything.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I couldn’t figure out.’

  ‘Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want anything.’

  ‘Maybe I will buy you something when we meet,’ she said.

  ‘When are we meeting?’ I said, even though Bela had told me her plans.

  ‘See, tomorrow is difficult, I have a double shift.’

  ‘You won’t meet me on my birthday?’ I said.

  ‘What to do?’ she said. ‘Half the front-office staff is absent. Winter arrives and everyone makes excuses of viral fever.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. I must say, she could act pretty well. I almost believed her.