‘We could chat all night,’ she said as we tucked under the quilt together.
‘About what? And why? We are with each other all the time. Why sacrifice sleep?’
‘Still, we could talk. Future plans and stuff.’
The word ‘future’ and females is a dangerous combination. Still, in business school future could merely mean placement. ‘We’ve good grades. You’ll easily get HLL. It is the best marketing job, right? And I’ll go for WPM.’
‘WPM?’
‘Whoever pays more, so I can save as much money as fast as possible,’ I grinned.
‘You still serious about becoming a writer, right?’ She ran her fingers through my hair.
‘Yes but I’m still wondering what I’d write about,’ I yawned.
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‘About anything. Like that girlfriend of yours.’
‘Ananya, we had a pact. We will not talk about my ex-girlfriend again.’
‘Sorry, sorry. You said you had a deal with the Prof for grades, so I thought maybe it will make an interesting story.’
‘Good night, my strategist.’ I kissed her and lay down.
‘I love you,’ she said.
‘Mean it?’
‘Yes.’
‘How come you said it now?’
‘I think about it a lot. I only articulated it now. Good night,’ she said.
One-and –a-half years later
‘Tell me your thoughts. Don’t you like to talk after making love?’
Actually, I prefer to look at the fan above. Or drift into a nap. Why do women want to talk all the time? We were in my room. We were snugly wrapped up on a cloudy, winder afternoon.
‘I love to talk,’ I said carefully. ‘Do you have something in mind?’
‘It’s one week to placement and I’m nervous,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, every company has short-listed you. You will hit t he jackpot.’
‘I’m not nervous about receiving a job offer. What after that?’
‘After that? Finally, we will have money in the bank. No more scrimping while ordering in restaurants, no more front row seats in theatres, no more second-class train travel. College is fun, but sorry, I’ve had my share of slumming it.
Imagine, you can shop every month!’
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‘I don’t like shopping.’
‘Fine, you can save the money. Or travel to exotic places.’
Her face turned more thoughtful.
‘You OK?’ I asked.
‘Do you realize we leave campus in four weeks?’
‘Good riddance. No more mugging and grades, hopefully for life,’ I said.
Her voice dropped an octave. ‘What about us?’
‘About us what?’ I asked with an idiotic, confused expression exclusive to men when they have to get all meaningful with women.
She sat up and wore her top. She stepped off the bed to wear the rest of her clothes. Despite the serious mood, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderful women looked when they change. ‘I’m going to my room. Enjoy your nap,’ she said.
‘Hey,’ I extended my arm and stopped her. ‘What’s up? I am talking, no?’
‘But like a dork. We could be in different cities in four weeks. It will never be like this again.’
‘What do you mean never?’ I said, my mouth open.
‘Wear your clothes first. I want to have a serious discussion.’
She kept quiet until I finished dressing. We sat across, cross-legged on the bed.
‘Here is the deal,’ I said, collecting my thoughts. ‘You are the career focused one, I am doing it for the money. So, I will try to get a job in the same city as you.
But the issue is, we don’t know which city you will be in. So how can I do anything about it now?’
‘And what will you do next week? We are all going to get placed around the same time. You can’t wait for me to get a job.’
‘So let fate play out,’ I said.
‘And what about our future? Or sorry, I should ask, is there a future?’
‘I can’t really talk about that now,’ I said.
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‘Oh really, can you give me a time in the future when we can talk about the future?’
I kept quiet.
‘Forget it, I’m leaving,’ she said and made for the door.
‘I need time to think,’ I said.
‘Two years are not enough?’
I kept quiet.
‘You know it baffles me,’ Ananya said, ‘how you men need so much time to think about commitment, but how you need no time at all to decide when you have to sleep with the girl.’
‘Ananya,’ I began only to hear the door slam shut.
‘You’ll be fine,’ she told me for the fifth time. We took a four-kilometre walk outside campus to reach Navrangpura. I wanted to be as far from the madness as possible. Day Zero, or the first day of placement, had ended and I hadn’t got a job.
‘I thought with my grades I will crack Day Zero,’ I said.
‘Who cares? There’re six more days left for placements,’ she said.
We stopped at a roadside vendor for pao-bhaji. She ordered two plates with less butter. ‘You will be fine. See, marketing companies don’t even start until tomorrow. I have my big HLL interview. I’m not stressed.’
‘You’ll get in. I can’t think of a single company who can say no to you,’ I said.
She looked at me and smiled. ‘You do realize that not everyone is in love with me.’
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‘You have good grades and a passion for marketing. You are so HLL, I can see it on your face.’
‘You have two more banks tomorrow.’
‘I want Citibank,’ I said. ‘I should have better answers than “I like the money”. I need to lie better in interviews.’
The waiter served us. She broke a piece of the pao and fed me. ‘But that’s the only reason why anyone would work in a bank, right?’
‘Yes, but the interviewers like to believe they are doing something meaningful.
Like they work for the Mother Teresa Foundation or something.’
‘Well you should say this – I want Citibank as I want Indians to have access to world-class financial services. And use words like “enormous growths” and
“strategic potential”,’ she said.
‘I have to say all that without throwing up?’
‘And remember, the Citi never sleeps. So say you will work hard,’ she said.
‘I can’t lie that much,’ I said.
She laughed as she wiped a bit of bhaji off the corner of my mouth. I thought how lucky I was to have her. She could be running HLL in a few years, but today her priority was to wipe bhaji off my stupid face. Guilt knotted within me. She deserved an answer about the future. Do it, loser, I told myself. Do it now. Even if it is a makeshift pao bhaji stall in Navrangpura. I gathered the courage to sopeak.
‘What? You want to say something?’
‘Do you want more pao?’ I said.
‘You are third,’ a first-year student volunteer who assisted in placements told me.
I sat on a stool with seven other candidates outside the interview room. We resembled patients at a dentist’s clinic, only more stressed.
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The HLL interviews were on in the room across me. Ananya had moved up all the rounds and now waited to be called one last time. I reflected on what had gone wrong on Day Zero. OK, I only wanted a job for the money, but I had hidden that when they spoke to me. Then why did I screw up with five banks yesterday?
What if Citi also screws me? I thought. Sweat beads popped on my forehead. Was it destiny leading me to doom after all these degrees and grades? Is God not on my side ?
I
wondered if I had given any reason to God not to be on my side. I saw the HLL
room from a distance. Ananya stood outside, looking beautiful in a peacock blue sari. Maybe God will not let me decide my future unless I give her clarity on her future.
‘Krish Malhotra,’ the student volunteer called my name.
I offered mental prayers and stood up. I checked my tie knot and shirt collars.
Remember you need this job, I told myself. Banks pay double, I could quit a corporate career twice as fast to do whatever I wanted to. I breathed in deeply and exhaled.
‘Welcome, take you seat,’ a man in an impeccable black suit spoke from his chair. He was rich enough to wear a Rolex watch and obnoxious enough not to look at me while he addressed me. He rifled through a pile of resumes to find mine.
‘Good afternoon.’ I extended my hand. I flexed my forearm muscles as people say a tight handshake is a sign of confidence and world domination.
‘Rahul Ahuja, managing director, corporate finance,’ he said and shook hands with me. He pointed to his colleague on the right. ‘And this is Devesh Sharma, vice-president in HR.’
I looked at Devesh, a thirty-year-old executive with the timidity of a three-year-old. He came across as someone who could be kicked around despite being called vice-president. Anyway, I’d heard Citibank had four hundred vice-presidents to accommodate careers and egos of hundreds of new MBAs that joined every year. Of course, it took away the relevance of the title but at least it gave you a good introduction. Rahul signaled Devesh to start.
‘So Krish, I notice you have poor grades in your undergrad,’ Devesh spoke in a voice so effeminate, he’d be the obvious choice for female leads in college plays.
‘You are pretty observant,’ I said.
‘Excuse me?’ Devesh said, surprised.
Cut the wisecracks, I told myself. ‘Nothing,’ I cleared my throat.
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‘So, what happened?’
A girlfriend, fun-loving friends, alcohol, grass and crap profs happened, I wanted to say. But Ananya had told me the right answer. ‘Actually, Mr. Sharma,’ I said, emphasizing his name so he felt good, ‘when I entered IIT, I didn’t realize the rigours demanded by the system. And once you have a bad start, due to relative grading, it is quite hard to come back. I did get good grades in the last semester and my IIMA grades are good. So, as you can see, I’ve made up.’
There were twenty minutes of stupid questions like ‘will credit cards grow in India?’ or ‘can India improve its banking services?’ where you easily answer what they want to hear (yes, they will grow and, yes, India can improve heaps). Finally, they asked the big question, ‘Why Citibank?’
I want Citibank because none of the other five banks worked ou tI. sucked in my breath along with my stupid thoughts. BS time, buddy, I thought, the ten seconds that will determine your career start now.
‘Mr Ahuja, the question is not why Citi. The real question is why would any ambitious young person want to go anywhere else? It is the biggest private bank in the world, it has a great reputation, it is committed to India, and there are opportunities in almost every area of the bank. It is not a bank, it is a growth machine.’
I paused to see if I had gone over the top. But Rahul listened with rapt attention and Devesh nodded. Yes, they were falling for it.
‘And, ultimately the biggest reason is, Rahul,’ I said, switching to the first name to show my closeness to him, ‘I really want to work with people I look up to.
When I see you, I want to be you. And Citi gives me a shot at it.’
Rahul flushed with pride. ‘How…I mean, how do you know you want to be me?’
No matter how accomplished people get, they don’t stop fishing for compliments. ‘I saw you at the pre-placement talk. I’ve attended dozens of talks, but the way you presented showed more thought clarity than anyone else. I think it is a Citibank thing. You people have a different confidence. Right, Devesh?’
Devesh looked at me, perplexed. ‘Actually, we at human resources pick the best talent,’ he parroted, probably from a manual.
‘HR does nothing. I personally pick everyone for the job,’ Rahul said as the two jostled for my attention.
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‘It shows,’ I said.
Rahul pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Listen Krish, I like you. So between us, let me be honest. We are mostly done with the recruitment and have only one place left. But we have internal criteria; we need seven-point grade in undergrad to take new recruits.’
Fuck. My past sins would not let go of me. Maybe that is why the five banks had rejected me.
“and this missed semester….’ He tapped my undergrad grade sheete.
‘Research semester, sir’ I corrected.
‘I don’t know about that. Devesh?’
Devesh, like anyone who works in HR, had never taken a real decision in his life. ‘It’s a business call, sir,’ he said.
‘I head my business,’ Rahul said.
‘Yes, but you may want to talk to the country manager,’ Devesh said, scared to make a suggestion.
‘I’m senior to him. I came from New York. He’s just connected so he became country manager. You know that, right?’
‘Sir, but grade-wise….’ Devesh paused and both of them looked at me.
‘Can you give us five minutes?’ Rahul asked.
‘Sure, I’ll wait outside,’ I obliged with an ingratiating grin.
‘Thanks, we’ll call you in again. So, don’t send the next candidate.’
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8
I stepped out of the Citi interview room. I scanned the list of remaining companies on the notice board. Everyone else paid half of Citibank. I found an empty stool to sit on and closed my eyes to pray. God appeared in front of me.
‘Hello God,’ I said, ‘I’ve not said one true thing in that interview today. But I want the job, please.’
‘They don’t want to hear the truth. So, that’s OK,’ God said. ‘But that’s not what you should be worried about.’
‘Then what?’
‘You have lived with a girl for two years.’
‘I love her, God,’ I said.
‘Love is not enough. You know what you have to do.’
‘I will, I just need time.’
‘You are well past your time. In four minutes, I could let your last bank job slip away,’ God said.
‘No God, I want Citibank.’
‘I want you to do the right thing first.’
‘How?’ I opened my eyes. I looked at the HLL room. Ananya had gone inside the room. I closed my eyes again. ‘How?’ I repeated. ‘She is in an interview. I promise to do it after I get my Citibank job.’
‘I don’t trust you. Anyway, upto you. You don’t listen to me, I don’t listen to you,’ God said.
I opened my eyes. I had three minutes. Ananya would kill me if I went inside the room. But a voice inside told me that if I didn’t go to her, the Citi country manager or Rahul or Devesh could decide against me. Of course, my rational mind knew I was being completely moronic. Both the events were not connected.
But there is only so much our rational mind knows. Maybe, events and karma are connected. I ran to the HLL room.
‘Excuse me,’ the volunteer on the door said, blocking me.
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‘I need to go inside,’ I said, ‘urgent.’
‘There’s an inter….’
I forced my way inside. HLL was conducting its final interviews in one of the classrooms. The company staff sat in the front row of the class while the candidate sat in the prof’s chair.
Ananya faced a panel of five elderly people in the room. She was moving her hands in an animated manner as she spoke. ‘The rural market doesn’t need different products. They need affordability….’ She stopped mid-sentence upon noticing me. Her eyebrows elevated in shock and stayed there.
‘Yes?’ a sixtyish-year-old gentleman turned to me.
Ananya’s face turned pink, then red. The colour coordination came from embarrassment and anger, respectively.
‘I need to talk to her,’ I said slowly, scanning everyone in the room.
‘Can’t it wait?’ the old gentleman asked. ‘She is having her final interview. All our senior management is here.’
‘Actually, it can’t,’ I said.
‘Everything OK?’ another panelist said.
‘Yes, I only need a minute,’ I said and signalled to Ananya to come out.
‘What? Just tell me here,’ she said, throwing me a dirty look.
I saw the panel’s confused expression. I went up to Ananya.
‘What?’ she whispered,’ Are you mad?’
I knelt down next to her, my mouth close to her ear. ‘Sorry, how is it going?’ I whispered.
‘Krish Malhotra, this better be important. What’s up?’ she whispered, loud enough for the panel to hear.
‘Ananya Swaminathan, I, Krish Malhotra, am deeply in love with you and want to be with you always. Apart from where we go to office, of course. Will you marry me?’
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Ananya’s mouth fell open. She alternated her glance between the panel and me. “Krish,’ she said. She tried hard but a tear slipped out of her carefully eye-lined eyes.
‘Everything OK?’ one panel member asked as he noticed Ananya’s restlessness. ‘It’s not bad news, I hope.’
Ananya shook her head as she took a sip from the glass of water in front of her. ‘No, it’s not bad news at all. It’s good.’
‘Ananya,’ I whispered again. My knees hurt as they rubbed against the rough classroom floor.
‘What now?’
‘Is that a yes? Will you be with me, always?’ I asked.
She tightened her lips to hide a laugh. ‘Yes, you idiot. I will be with you. Just not right now. So, go!’
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9
‘Wow, this feels special,’ Ananya said.
She opened her HLL offer letter for the third time at Rambhai’s. I had collected mine from Citibank the day before and, after confirming the salary, had dumped it in my cupboard.
‘It’s an invitation to be a slave, don’t get so excited,’ I said as I ordered a samosa sandwich.
‘Aw, don’t be morbid. They are thrilled about hiring me. HLL has a serious South India strategy.’
Rambhai’s minions served us tea. During placement time, tips peaked for them.
‘Do you go to school?’ Ananya asked the thirteen-year-old boy who served us.
‘Yes, Rambhai sends me,’ the boy said.
‘Good, because if he doesn’t, report him to the police,’ Ananya said and gave the boy a fifty rupee note.
‘They will post you in South India,’ is aid, ‘in one of those unpronounceable places without an STD code.’
‘No, they won’t. And if they do, my husband will come and rescue me.’ She winked.
‘Ananya, you d