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 office, 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 under-performers 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.