Tanker lit a cigarette and sank back into his chair. Smoke rings appeared out of his nose and mouth. He flicked off ash and looked at me disappointed. Then he spoke:
“You have let me down, brother… after all that I have done for you!”
Elder brother was unhappy that he had been kept in the dark and was not a part of the planning commission. But today, I had to tell him, as I needed his help. I honestly considered him a good friend but hadn’t told him because there was every chance that he might blabber something out while on drinks.
“You really love her, bro!” he said, smiling.
“Leave all that, yaar,” I said, avoiding such remarks as a rule. “But you do… taking so many risks… must say, listening to your tale, I want to love someone too,” he said and we were surprised. The tough Bajrang was talking about love.
“So… what do you want me to do, brother?” he said, tapping at his cigarette again.
I told him the plan. I needed a wedding card, as the documented proof, reading ‘Vineet weds Preeti’ or any other lady, 14th December, which excused me till the 16th, after which I needed to hop to the Inter-IIT sports meet. There was nothing else that could ambush me. And, for that, it readily available as the Haryana State Lottery tickets, and that too at the crunch; unless, of course, you have Tanker as your guardian angel.
“So… it is imperative that I go to Inter-IIT after marriage. Any team for me?” I asked Bajrang.
“Shotput,” he said coolly and there was a funny silence. Then Rishabh started laughing, clutching this tummy and looking at me, the subject of the joke. I weighed a mere sixty kg.
“Shotput?” I asked, unbelieving, “The game in which you have to throw a ball weighing a ton, as far as possible?”
“Yes,” he said coolly again.
“Do you realize that the ball is heavier than me?” I asked wisely. “Don’t you worry about the technical details!”
“Do you realize that the authorities won’t allow you to take a handicapped with you?” I tried to reason.
“Don’t you worry about the authorities!”
“I don’t believe they will allow him for shotput,” interjected Rishabh.
“I don’t say things just like that, you buffoons. When I say, he is in the team, I mean, he is in the team. No one can throw the put better than me. I can safely go alone and they will not complain. They know that all the medals will be ours. But rules say a five member battalion must be sent, and so it’ll be. Thus even if I take, with me, four paralysed chaps, it wouldn’t make a difference. Don’t you worry, it’ll all be done.”
Rishabh and I looked at him, amazed. A man of resource, if ever there was one. A gm of a friend. Other people would have laughed at me, if ever they saw me in the shotput quarters, and mistaken me for the chap who draws the chalk-lines. But here was a man who saw potential in me, a mere duckling. I was not weak but certainly not strong enough for shotput. Once, in school days, I had tried my hand at it, this whole business of shotputting, and I had putted the shot with full force, and expected it to land out of the school, but my expectations were short lived: the put landed right on my foot. Never in my life, did I try juggling with puts again. The pleasant thought was that, of course, that I won’t have to do it this time. It was all just a cover up.
“So happy, now?” inquired Bajrang, “You attend the marriage and then hop off straight to the sports meet. And the tour is killed, nothing of it remains,” and at that he chuckled.
“There is still a problem,” I said prolonging the grimness, “I haven’t yet told you about the main course of plan.”
“What is it now,” both my friends asked in unison. For them the battle had been won, the enemy trampled and the flag unfurled but I knew better. It was alright, this whole combo plan of wedding and sports, brimming with masala and thrill, still it left my enemy with plenty of room. It foiled the enemy’s current strategy, but didn’t eliminate the enemy, and I knew, until that was done, the battle was not won.
“Pappi has to be removed,” I said and a deafening silence ensured. Both my friends looked at each other and then at me stupefied, with bulging eyes, as if a dragonfly had landed on my shoulder, which must be squashed, but with caution. I looked over my shoulder, first right and then left. There was nothing, save my blue shirt.
“Come on, my brother, it isn’t that big a reason too, to start removing professors,” Tanker replied shocked.
“But he has to be removed.”
“He has kids, goddamit!” cried Rishabh.
“Where do the kids come in now,” asked innocently.
“You idiot, who’ll take care of them if he is removed?” And then I followed their train of thought. In the grim aura that had been created, they had started to think like mafia. One couldn’t blame them.
“I meant, removed from the position f Tour Guide,” I replied. “Oh,” said Tanker and “Oh,” said Rishabh.
“How will you do that?” asked both.
“He’ll be forced not to come.”
“How?”
“I’ll make him an offer he does not refuse.”
“What offer?”
“Biobull!” I started and laughed sinisterly. They both looked at me and joined in too. The laughs dissolved in the grim silence. I picked up my guitar and started playing the immortal tune of Godfather. It felt nice to be able to play with the mood. The professors had dared to displease the Godfather, I told myself, and they must not be spared.
I waited at the airport lounge. I leaned against the barriers and craned my neck to see if he was there. All I saw was three beautiful girls; part of the Lufthansa crew, as was written on their badges, but there was no sign of him yet. I tell you, it is most fascinating place, this airport lounge. You get to see some stunningly pretty girls and, besides, it is a nice feeling, waiting keenly for your near and dear ones to emerge out of the crowd.
Don’t imagine too much, I warn you all, if you are suspecting what I should be doing at an airport, and whom I should be waiting for. To disappoint you all, eager beavers, whose minds have been corrupted by an overdose of thrillers; nothing’s fishy here. I was just waiting for Vineet, my brother, who. I promised you all, has no small role in these memories. He is a real chum. I was there to receive him at the airport in absolute secrecy. It was supposed to be a surprise for the whole family, his arrival, and only I was let in on the secret, partly because we two are really close, but mainly because somebody needed to arrange a taxi.
Presently I saw his head appear, his body hidden behind two beautiful girls. I was sure he was following them. Some people never change. Then I saw his neck emerge, then the belly and I could see him wholly now shoving his trolley as the two girls turned left. I could see a tint of disappointment in his face. He had grown a little fat.
“You saw those two girls?” he asked me, his eyes opened wide. No hi, no hello!
“Yaaaaa,” I said.
“Stunners they were, bloody turned left!” he said frustrated, “Anyway, wassup, brother?” and with that hugged me. “I am fine, you say!”
“I am cool as usual, how’s Shreya?”
“Fine too!” I said.
“All well?” he asked.
“We’ll talk about that in the taxi,” I said as I took his trolley and directed it towards the taxi stand. With the luggage shoved in the dicky, and both of us settled snug. I ventured to explain to him the situation.
“My dearest, respected, elder brother,” I began, as was my wont, whenever I wanted anything from him, and he interrupted, as was his wont, understanding that it was indeed something that his younger imp of a brother wanted him to do. And past experiences had taught him to keep a mile from me, when I was in such a mood.
“I have just landed, brother!” he said, giving me one of his looks of suspicion.
“I’d be the first to wish you rest, brother, but, I am afraid, this thing needs to be done quickly, or I’ll be damned,” I tried to explain to him the gravity of the situation.
“You’ll never change, will you? I was so happy… living a life of ease and peace… continents away from you… and a minute with you…” my brother said dreamily.
“Don’t begin, brother it is just a tiny task and you are just the man for it. What a deuce of a situation I would be in, had you not come!”
“I hope I had not!” he said.
“Most disgraceful of you to say that! Now listen, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. It is child’s play, this task, yet, it needs a man and so we need you.”
“Which man?” he asked suspiciously.
“Oh, I’ll come to that.”
“Tell me all,” he finally said, yielding.
He knew, of course, that I was going to meet Shreya but nothing beyond that. Nothing about my tête-á-tête’s with eminent professors, and all the planning done, thereafter. I narrated it all with the required stresses, and saw the effect I wished to see. “Damned unlucky of you, to land yourself in such a soup,” he said commiseratively.
“Don’t call it a petty soup, brother, call it an ocean… an ocean full of alligators,” I corrected him.
“Whatever… but this time I have so admit that it is not your fault. You haven’t hit your foot with an axe and my heart goes out for you!”
”You have heart of gold, brother. Twenty four carat if there is no carat above it. Help me, you are the only one who can’t I looked at him with melancholic eyes and he melted.
“Alright, what is it?”
“We have to remove the professor.”
“Hmm, well thought, but how do you go about it?”
“I don’t go about it, big brother; it is you who go about it!” “Oh!”
“Yes!”
”How?” he asked, nervous like a man about to jump in an ocean of alligators to save a drowning friend.
“The professor is hell bent on going on the tour and there’s just one thing that can prevent him.”
“What?” he asked with an air of a man about to be told the darkest of secrets, not sure if his heart would cope with it. “Biobull,” I said with an air of a man telling that secret. “Biobull?” he asked, not knowing what do with it.
And I hastened to clear the haze. Biobull – the pride of the professor, the bus that will rock the world… Biobull – the bus that runs on a gas made from human wastes and gives an average of... Biobull – the professor’s dream… Biobull – the thing that the professor will do anything for!
I gave my brother all the definitions that the lexicons would supply in the centuries to come.“Biobull,” he said with a sigh, as if it was his lover’s name. “Yes, Biobull,” I asserted again, “Biobull, the future of locomotion!”
“Biobull,” he repeated, not able to get over the repulsive word, “What a frightful name!”
“I know, but that’s what it is, Biobull, and we needn’t worry about it. All we should worry about is… what all can be done with the Biobull!”
“What all?” asked my brother innocently.
“You should ask what cannot be done with the Biobull. We can have an alternate fuel, we can save the humanity, counter global warming, we may never have to worry about saving power; all that’ll be required from us, is what we presently do, shit! And the rest will be done by the Biobull. Imagine serving the world by sitting on the potty. You’d be a millionaire, brother, with your current excreting abilities,” he eyed me; but I resumed, “What can’t the Biobull do, brother! It can bring about a revolution and, more importantly, for us, brother, it can prevent Pappi from embarking on the tour!”
“How?” he asked again, piqued to the extreme after listening to such drivel.
“Ah,” I said, “Your focus impresses me, never the one to stray, here’s how! You just need to go to him, and tell him that you are an NRI entrepreneur, who is interested in putting all his life’s savings, which incidentally run into millions, into this gold mine of a project, the famous Biobull! And that you’d be coming to India again in December, December 13th to be precise, and will be here till the 20th; those are the industrial tour dates; and thus both of you can work together during that period. If he asks you whether you can meet him some other time, give him a flat no for an answer. Convince him to meet you in December. This, for you, Mr. CEO, will be nice experience, considering you intend to do such idiotic things for the rest of your life. Thus he will be prevented from going to Pune! He won’t risk losing out on such support for his dream project! Isn’t it a peach of an idea?”
I must say that I wished to see, in my dearest brother’s eyes, a spark, a relief that the world, after all, wasn’t a boring place, and it still offered us, albeit occasionally, moments worth remembering. I aspired to see the zeal of his younger days, those wonderful days, when we went from place to place, shattering many a windowpane and lampshade. However, I was shattered to see his eyes. In place of glint, there was gloom. His look was of a man who had finally decided that it wasn’t wise to jump in the alligator-ocean. Touched he was, to see his friend drown, but could not risk alligators.
“Sorry, brother,” he said plaintively, “I cannot do that.” “Why?” I asked.
“I won’t advise that, brother, I don’t want you to get into any trouble. I tell you, these professors are merciless. They will ruin you if they find out.”
“How the hell will he find out? It is perfect, my friend, this plan, and you are the man for the job.”
“You always say so, brother!”
“And I am right, am I not?”
“Not always!”
“Always,” I asserted.
“Remember… when in class six your father was summoned, by your moral science teacher, to complain to him that you had hit her with a piece of chalk…”
“I had not hit her with any chalk. She had hit the chalk instead. I had merely thrown it in the air, it was a bloody coincidence that she appeared out of nowhere and collided with the missile. Most unfortunate that was.” I corrected him again.
“Whatever, but chacha was summoned, and you did the same, then, what you intend to do now!”
“Come on, not that brother!”
“Why not? It is exactly the same. You made me appear, before that brute of a lady, as your dad and it was all a dud. She saw through it all and in three seconds…”
“She had to see through it all, brother! How on earth was she to believe you are my father? You are hardly four years older to me, and, I remember, your front two teeth were missing, then. It was an error, brother, and I admit it! Ingenious though the plan was, of replacing my dad, it was also immature. It had a fundamental flaw. I chose the wrong man for the job. But then I had no option, then, brother. Now, I am in third year of college. I have grown up and there is maturity in my plans! You should be proud of me, and look at you, you shudder like a rabbit! Whatever happened to the spirit of Narulas?” I asked, appealing to his self pride. “My only concern, brother, is that it shouldn’t harm your career in any way!”
“It will not, don’t you see the ingenuity of the plan?”
“Brother, I see it, but I see the risk, too; we shouldn’t do it!” “Fine, let your brother drown,” I said.
“It is not that, brother.”
“I know it is not that, it is much more than that. I see my brother of the yonder years, one whose eyes shone at the hint of mischief, is dead,” I began my emotional blackmail.
“Not the case,” he waved it off.
“That’s the case. You are a coward now, with no sense of adventure.”
“That won’t work, brother.”
“Please, brother, please,” I pleaded, “Just once… remember our days of glory. When we walked arm in arm, shattering windows, flowerpots… whatever that came in our way. Just once… let us relive them brother… you come here only once a year! And I miss all our adventures,” I said. I meant that. “I miss all the time we spent together. I miss you, man,” I bellowed. I could see his eyes get dreamy and misty. After all, how could he forget them? “Remember those golden days, brother. The teasing of girls, the shoplifting, the way we used to run away after ringing doorbells, and the five-star incident when we demolished that… what’s his name…”
“Gobardhan!” my brother replied eagerly, clearly transported to the era gone by.
“Remember that lizard you flung on that rat of a girl, ‘Heee is myyy HUSBAND!’ Remember, brother? How can you forget all that? Where’s that spirit?”
He came closer to me and put his arm around me.
“I can’t forget, brother, I can’t. I miss those days too, damn it, I miss those days too. And here, your plan is a good one, and just the one for a soul like me. Reminds me of our favourite Fatty of Enid Blyton, the one who used to disguise, impersonate and what not…”
“And you are fat!”
He gave me one of his looks and then laughed.
“And I am fat. I wanna do it, but are you sure it’s safe? I’d love to help you and Shreya. But it should be safe…”
“Have you lost your famous vision, brother? You should have analysed the situation yourself and declared it as safe as a Swiss bank locker. You let me down. You want me to explain all to you. Spoon-feeding, that’s the phrase. I see all these years out of India have taken a toll on you, and all that astuteness of yours has eroded. But this plan will reactivate it all, brother. It’ll be an elixir for you.”
“Fine, I’ll do it; after all, the professor doesn’t know I am related to you…”
“You are the man for the job. You fit like T into the image one needs. It is like this role was written for you, brother. You don’t’ look like my father, still but you look like a young corporate investor, one of those who make millions before they are thirsty!” I saw him dream again, “I can see you wrapped impeccably, in a tuxedo, and boy, don’t you mean business!’
“Make that a black tux!” he added.
“Perfect, the man in the black tux, stepping out of his black Jaguar, with his black briefcase, going to the professor and telling him, ‘I want to invest a few millions in your bus.’ Isn’t it chic?” “I wish he was building a jet.”
“One cannot have it all, brother, bus it is, for now.” I added with empathy.
“When do I meet my client?” he asked.
“Tomorrow, after we discuss at night what all you have to tell him you are the man, brother. And the best thing is that you have done your courses in entrepreneurship. You know all that crap about venture capital, angel capital…”
“Don’t worry about all that, brother, it’ll be done.”
“I knew you would do it. Thanks.”
“Mention not,” he said, and with that I slipped in his hand, his new visiting card. ‘Prashant Oberoi,’ smooth white,
‘Venture Capitalist,
Bake Billions Inc., Austin, Texas.’ I had ordered ten of those a couple of days back, and it had cost me just hundred rupees. A man in black tux, black Jaguar, with a black briefcase, was definitely not complete without those. My brother looked at it, felt it and flashed a smile of well done!
I waited for him at the Holistic Food Centre along with Pritish and Rishabh. He had taken a long time. I was nervous. What if he couldn’t pull it through! It was a winner, the idea, yet the way Mr. Fate had taken a dislike to me latterly, anything could be expected to happen. Presently he called on my cell; I nervously pressed the button to receive his call, praying silently that all was well.
“Hullo,” Vineet said.
“Hullo, what happened?” said my voice shaking. “Come out of the campus to Barista, now!” “What are you doing there?”
“Will you come?”
“But tell me what happened or my heart will fall.” “It’s a long story.”
“Alright, will be there in five minutes.”
He was acting like a brute. Prolonging the agony and making me miss classes. All along the way I prayed for his victory over Pappi. I could see his colossal figure through the glass. He was dressed in a formal shirt and trousers. He sipped cold coffee and eyed a girl as usual. We entered, took our chairs, and I hoped the introductions would be short and sweet. But my brother has no sense of timing. There I was, under such enormous strain and he talked about girls. It is all very well to talk about girls, pleasure always, but there are times on wishes to talk business. “Isn’t she hot?” he said, rolling his eyes in the direction of a pretty lass.
“Will you tell me, what happened?” I asked, trying to be cool. “She has been looking at me for so long,” he chuckled. “She has to look for so long; it does like take an hour or two look at you fully, from the right end to the left! You fat rascal. Creating unnecessary suspense. Calling us all the way to Barista! Will you tell me, what happened?” I said, this time bringing my fist upon the table.
“You call me rascal? I am not delaying you knucklehead! I called you here because it was not safe to meet inside the campus; your Prof. Pappi walked with me to that food centre where you wanted to meet me. It would have been cataclysmic had he seen us! You are a complete jackass!”
“But, please tell me what happened; I can’t take any more, brother!”
“He isn’t going to the Industrial Tour…”
“You did it, brother?”
“No, you don’t understand, he wasn’t, anyhow, going on the tour…”
“What?”
“You are saved…”
“How do you know?”
“Because he refused outright to meet me in December, and I saw our plan failing…”
“Then? Didn’t you entice him with the two million dollars investment?”
“Didn’t work…”
“A production capacity of hundred buses a day?”
“Didn’t work…”
“Selling the technology to the US and EU?”
“Didn’t work…”
“That it would be India’s biggest achievement since the discovery of zero?”
“A zero effect…”
“That scientists from Germany and Japan were working on the same lines and their patents must be beaten…”
“Nothing worked…”
“What is he doing ion December?”
“Turns out his partner’s daughter is getting married in December. He got to know about the dates only now…”
“His partner?”
“Yes, his partner on the Biobull project…”
“That’s great…”
“Wait…”
“What now?”
“You’ll faint when I tell you where he is headed to…” “Where?” I asked quickly, before my mind could run amok. “Chennai…” he said, and I fainted.
But I wasn’t allowed to enjoy my unconsciousness. My mobile howled. I clumsily took it out of my jeans pocket. It was Bajrang’s call. I wondered why he called… perhaps about the shotput training!
“Hullo, Tejas?”
“Yes, say, brother!”
“Bad news, yaar!”
“What?”
“The wedding card can’t be printed!”
“Why?”
“It is damn expensive.”
“How much?”
“Minimum two thousand rupees!”
“I just want one, yaar, I heard it costs about fifteen a card!” “Yes, but the template of the card costs two thousand! They don’t care if you want one card or a million; they take separate money for the template formation!”
“Okay!” I said dejected.
“Don’t worry, man, we’ll find a way, and then you are on the team. Don’t worry!”
“Yes, thanks, bye!”
“Bye!”
Brace yourself for life, I often say, for nothing is more unpredictable. However, I couldn’t help but droop like a withered flower after the twin shock. News of the wedding card was, no doubt, unfortunate, but one didn’t know what to do with Pappi’s news.
“What happened?” was the natural question that came from all corners.And I told them. Obviously, I couldn’t churn out a princely sum of two thousand rupees for one card. I wished I was one of those spoilt sons of a rich millionaire, who threw money as if dealing cards. Already, I just about managed to make both ends meet with my allowance, and then, there was the forthcoming trip, and itself, where money would be needed for loading and food, and regaling her highness. My brother, as I had foreseen, put his arm around me and said, “I’ll give you two thousand bucks, don’t worry.”
“Shut up!”
“If that smoothens out things, why not? After all, it s hardly fifty dollars!” he said after his brief calculation.
I told him to shut up once again. Money wasn’t the solution. “Hey listen,” Rishabh said, “Now… Pappi personally gave permission to your father… that you may skip the Industrial Tour. He doesn’t think that you are bluffing… so… I don’t think a wedding card is necessary. After that you go to Inter-IIT; which is within rules… I think you can take a chance by skipping the Industrial Tour without any formal, written permission.” Pritish concurred. My brother played with his hairs. I thought. “But there might be a problem, and then, if, by chance, my family is contacted by these professors, I’ll be dead. You see, I can’t always intercept calls,” I said.
“As far as everything is done within the rules, there is no problem,” contradicted my brother, “But there is the chance that professors might cause a problem, if you don’t show the card, and decide to skip the entire tour. I mean… the way you have told me, their dislike for you… And they are mad after being drenched in soda… Most insulting! So you shouldn’t take any more liberties with these professors. Think of something within the rules,” he added wisely.
“And this Industrial Tour is a degree requirement. If they decide to go to the extremes, Pappi and the Dean, they may invalidate your tour, thus extending your degree! And they are pretty hot with you,” commented Pritish.
That hit me hard. Degree extension! It was a thing that should I not be mentioned, just like Voldemort’s name in Potter books, as it has the same horror attached to it. Presently an ugly scene conjured u in my mind. I was wishing my friends, clad smartly in black graduation robes, with a wry somber smile, wearing torn and tattered clothes myself. There was Pritish, smiling and saying, “Don’t worry. You’ll get it too someday!” and Khosla saying, with his head swaying, “I told you to mend your ways.” People turned up their noses at my sight and talked among each other, “He is the one! He brought shame to his family. Disgraceful! Spoilt his parent’s life for a girl! Better not have a son at all!” and this scene took a heavy toll on me! I drank two glasses of water, and then became aware of the conversation going on.
“Why don’t you go on the tour and leave for the Inter-IIT sports meet on 15th, and then be with Shreya?” Rishabh asked. “How many times have I told you, I want at least ten days there! See… she is a girl and may not be able to meet me every day, and if that happens, I would hardly be able to meet her. I am not going to reduce the length of the trip! No way! There must be a way!” I said.
“There is,” said Pritish, who was staring at the ceiling blankly. “Attend the tour with us!”
“How is that a way? I told you I am not wasting any days!” “You won’t!”
“How the hell?”
“Break your legs!”
“Break my leg?”
“Yes, break it. Reach Pune with us, and break it! Then, obviously, you won’t be in a position to accompany us on our Industrial visits… The doctor would have strongly advised fifteen days strict bed rest! If you get up you may risk losing your legs forever. Thus you must rest and not move around,” he said.
“Genius!” I remarked,” And the best part is that Pappi will not be with us. I wish he was not even in Chennai, but I don’t think there’s