by Durjoy Datta
‘I was thinking about a night-out,’ Avantika said and winked at me.
Chapter 13
‘Now, that was a close shave,’ Shrey said, as he put the form in the envelope. I had just done narrating the incident with Shawar.
‘Yup, nearly had my face boxed in,’ I said, as I darkened the bubbles in the form. Despite being a technophile, he, too, was taking the CAT, the management test that decides the fate of many. Around 2.32 lakh students took the exam every year.
‘How do you rate our chances?’ Shrey asked me.
‘I can’t really say. It all depends on that day.’
‘Yup, that’s true. But you have been studying for it. You will obviously do much better than I will.’ He hadn’t joined a coaching institute while Avantika and I had. We had scored better than him in the mock examinations and he was pissed about it.
‘CAT isn’t about how much you prepare. Maths and data interpretation are purely IQ based and there is nothing much you can do about English if it isn’t above average by now. They can’t teach you how to read, damn it.’
‘Whatever. What happened to Shawar? Any further news?’ Shrey asked to change the topic. We had had numerous arguments on whether coaching institutes helped or not. He had attended mock classes at different centres in Delhi and didn’t feel challenged enough. I am sure he meant: there weren’t enough pretty girls.
‘I heard he was planning to ask his long-time friend Purvi out, the one he puts up a lot of pictures of.’
‘Do you think he has slept with her?’ Viru butted in as he wrapped up the form, too.
‘I think so. I mean it’s highly likely. They get sloshed all the time. It’s possible that they have done it. Anyway, Purvi had had scores of boyfriends, so it’s inevitable. But then again, Shawar is amazingly repulsive. He has red-stained teeth! How can anyone kiss him? But I don’t know, Avantika says she thinks they are sleeping around.’
‘If he’s that ugly then I don’t think he is sleeping around with her. Because if he was, he wouldn’t want to ask her out. Why get into a relationship when you can get everything without getting into one?’ Shrey debated.
‘It’s not as if it would be totally guilt-free sex. Maybe Purvi goes on a guilt trip and gives him a hard time every time they hook up?’
‘Maybe Shawar wants something more than a hook-up. Maybe he wants a real relationship. Not everyone is like you, Shrey. Or you, Deb. People want meaningful relationships, too,’ Viru said in all seriousness.
‘Excuse me? I am in a meaningful relationship!’ I protested.
‘Fuck that! Did you just hear what Viru said? I can’t believe we are taking relationship advice from him!’ Shrey said and all of us doubled up in laughter. The only girls Viru ever talked to were the ones on the metro counters. The only one he had an affair with was in customer care. It had lasted fifteen minutes.
In the world of engineers, where there are no major hetero-groups, we never treated any girl we met as a friend. Everyone was a prospect. Every girl was an opportunity. Vernita had been one, too. Meaningful relationships, being friends with a girl, being best friends with a girl who’s dating someone else—these were things that meant little to engineering students like us. On the evolutionary chart of dating, engineers represented gorillas.
As for Shawar, his male ego had taken a huge blow. Everyone in his circle knew that Avantika had dumped him for another guy. He had to do something to redeem himself. Purvi was his shot at redemption. Everything was okay as long as he kept his hands off me, which he did.
The last two months before the CAT went exactly as I had not planned. Shrey and I had planned to study together but our study sessions, more often than not, ended up as movie/TV series-watching sessions. The lesser time you have, the greater is the urge to splurge time on things that don’t matter. Occasionally, we switched our phones and PCs off, ready to bring the world down to our feet, but that never lasted beyond an hour. Avantika, meanwhile, worked hard and the results showed. She even threatened to match our scores occasionally. A job had already ensured freedom from her parents, but clearing the CAT would mean doing it in a spectacular fashion. Her parents didn’t know she was preparing for the CAT.
‘Hey, Avantika! All set for tomorrow?’
‘All set? I am so nervous I think I will pass out.’
‘Nervous? Chill! Just go out there and try to attempt the easier questions and you will be through. You have worked hard for this.’
‘Easy for you to say that. You have been the one topping all the mock exams. Not me,’ she argued.
‘All that doesn’t matter tomorrow. It’s what you do in those two hours that matters.’ I had been doing really well in the mock examinations and people had started to expect big things from me. Though I showed I was irritated by their constant you-will-get-through thing, I liked it.
‘Anyway, I just hope Sri Guru helps us in the examination.’
‘Helps you. I had better rely on myself.’
‘Whatever. I am going to sleep now. My centre is two hours away and I have to get up early. Bye. Goodnight. Love you,’ she said.
‘Love you, too. Bye. You will do great.’
I disconnected the line and promptly went to sleep. Sri Guru didn’t help me the next day and the exam went horribly. And once I started screwing up the paper, I started picturing all my fellow classmates (a few of them from school, too) laughing at me, as if saying, ‘You couldn’t do this, you are such a fool.’ And laughing the hardest amongst them was Vernita. I screwed the exam big time.
Avantika didn’t answer my calls for the rest of the day. I assumed she had screwed it up, too. Shamefully enough, I was happy about that. I spent the day writing about my CAT debacle on my blog. My fictional make-out escapades were a huge hit among visitors to my blog and people had started expecting frequent updates. It is a perverted world, I tell you. I knew many people would start turning up at the secluded, deserted places I had mentioned in my blogs. I used to exaggerate and blow things out of proportion in my blogs and a lot of people tended to believe everything I wrote.
Writing the blog was better because I didn’t want to call up Shrey and listen to him speculate about the cut-offs and his chances. And he did better than me, so I tried to stay away from him. There was no way I could have got through any of the IIMs.
Bad news travels fast and people didn’t fail to bring it to my notice that Vernita had indeed done well in the exam. So consequently, I started trashing the exam itself and began to harbour dreams of making it to Stanford a few years down the line, after I had the requisite work experience. But all of this was just an escapist route and didn’t keep me from making my mind up to take the CAT the next year.
I spent the entire month of December trying not to bump into my classmates who had calculated their scores and fancied their chances at getting interview calls from at least one of the IIMs. I took a few other exams and screwed them up too. I was getting good at it.
The only worthwhile thing I did during December was going out with Avantika every night. We ate out and partied like never before. My dancing skills now extended beyond stomping cockroaches! It felt good when people started treating me as one of the regulars. With Avantika, we always managed to get huge discounts on our bills and it was something that kept us going.
Somewhere between the partying out and the eating, the eighth semester started. It was the last semester, and I knew attendance and marks would cease to matter. Now, all I needed was a job and I got my first opportunity within the first few weeks of the eighth semester.
‘Hey Deb! I have good news for you,’ Avantika said.
‘What?’
‘Eighth semester, baby! I thought you would be now eligible for some off-campus interviews and I forwarded your résumé to Lehman Brothers. They are a big investment bank and they are holding interviews. You have got a call.’
‘No shit!’ This had been the second most exciting news I had heard. First was that nobody who was close to me got any c
alls from any of the good management institutes. In fact, I had done better than most people around.
‘Yes, shit! Before I forget, they are paying exactly thirty per cent more than the company you were willing to give an arm for—D.E. Shaw. Like that? I told you Sri Guru is great. Isn’t he?’
‘Excuse me. You are great. Not Sri Guru. Anyway, when is the interview?’
‘It’s tomorrow. Don’t you dare screw this one up.’
‘I won’t. Will you be coming? And message me the place.’
‘Will do that. And no, I won’t be coming. Sri Guru is reaching New Delhi tomorrow and I am going for his convention. He won’t be returning to India before March. I know you won’t listen, but you should attend this once. Anyway, I will mail you your CV. I made some changes to suit their needs. Do check.’
It was one of the many times that she had put Sri Guru and Spirit of Living before me in her list of priorities. I hated it when she did that, but then she had made it very clear that it was because of her Guru that she wasn’t a wreck any more. We had had many arguments on this, which I invariably lost, convincingly. Just because no one could win an argument against her.
‘Perfect. I so love you!’
‘I love you too. Check your mail. I have sent you a document which explains all the basics of finance. I don’t think they will delve too much into that, but it doesn’t hurt to prepare. And best of luck. Do well.’
‘I will try.’
‘It would be so great if you get through this. You will be a rich guy and you could fly down to Bangalore any time you want to! What say?’
‘That is so true. By the way, have you tried getting your posting shifted to Delhi?’
‘No, I haven’t, Deb. I see no point in that. There is no tangible growth in the Delhi office. And anyway, we can meet whenever we want to. We have great paymasters, or we will have, won’t we?’
‘Ohh … that means I am not important? Only your growth is?’ I said in a baby voice. I hated to think that she was leaving Delhi in a few months. I hated to be an impediment in her career plans but then, it was hard to let her go. This was the first time I had shown my disapproval of her leaving for Bangalore.
‘Of course you’re important, but then …’ her voice trailed off. I wished I had been a little serious in my displeasure at her going away.
‘It’s okay, Avantika, I understand.’
‘Okay, Deb, I will try. I surely will. I will talk to the HR department tomorrow. First, say you will never let me go, only then will I try.’
‘Of course, I will never let you go. You are my baby, how can I let you go? You’re supposed to be mine and I will see to it that it never changes.’
‘I won’t go. You are so sweet, Deb. I don’t know what I would do without you,’ she said. ‘I will talk to the main office tomorrow. Or after my exams are done. I love you more than you do.’
‘Thank you. Love you. I will call you in a while.’ I was ecstatic and hopeful.
The next day, I dressed up the best I could and went for my interview. As it was an investment bank that paid a ridiculous package, the turnout was huge. Most of the guys seemed excessively smart for me … and knowledgeable. I was still the best dressed one. My fat thighs were skilfully hidden behind the slick suit that Avantika had chosen and had got me at a huge discount.
Somebody once told me that investment bankers are so busy during their seventy-hour work weeks that they often end up sleeping with their colleagues. It was always good for an investment bank if the applicants were people you could fancy in times of distress and frustration. I wished to gain a few points there. Avantika had done a good job on my CV. There were projects on terms I hadn’t heard about before. But she had given me a half an hour class about the projects and had said it was enough.
‘Are you there?’ Avantika asked. It was the twentieth time she had called me that day. The previous ones were to check whether I had gotten up, bathed, brushed etcetera. She really wanted me to clear the interview. I hadn’t bathed though. But my CV was spectacular.
‘It’s been an hour. The list was out just a few moments ago. I am the fourth to be interviewed.’
‘You are the fourth? Just one before Vernita? Cool.’
‘Vernita?’
What?
‘Yes, she is taking the interview, too. Tanmay just told me that she is fifth on the list.’
‘How on earth did she come to know about the interview?’
‘I told Tanmay about the off-campus interview. He had seen your résumé on the computer. He may even have flicked through it,’ she said. For the first time I felt like slapping her somewhere other than her ass. She might have just helped the person I hated the most get a job that I wanted!
‘What the …? Why didn’t you hide it? Are all you girls like this? First there was Smriti, who couldn’t hide a relationship and now it’s you? You are all the same, aren’t you? I didn’t even tell Shrey about the interview and you slipped this to Tanmay? I cannot believe you did this. Couldn’t you just have lied to him about this?’
‘Deb, I didn’t want to lie to him. I did that before and I regret it. I was not going to do that again.’
I have never understood why people make a big deal about lying. It doesn’t even figure in the seven deadly sins!
‘Have you completely lost it? It was a different matter. It was about a goddamn relationship. This is about my life, my career, which you just royally screwed up.’
‘Excuse me, Deb, goddamn relationship? I got you this interview, damn it. Now I am sorry I did.’
‘Hey, hey, hey! You didn’t do me a great favour doing that. Tanmay did that for Vernita, too, didn’t he? Anybody would have. But they wouldn’t have told the world to ruin his or her chances. You did that. Thank you for that.’
‘Deb, I am sorry.’ She broke down. ‘I’m really sorry. But did you ever think why I didn’t apply for it? It was something I always wanted to do. Finance. I never wanted the job at Mckinsey as much as I wanted this. But I thought … I am sorry.’
Click. She disconnected the call. I looked around to see everybody staring at me.
Then on, I spotted Vernita everywhere in the hall, almost like you start to spot a word you just looked up in the dictionary everywhere around you. I couldn’t talk to anybody around me as I had just established myself as a swearing, shouting bastard. In short, a typical Delhi guy.
‘Debashish Roy,’ the HR person called out. ‘You are next.’
History repeated itself. I messed up the interview once again, thanks to the brilliant distraction Avantika had just created. I knew the answers, but just couldn’t mouth them. Or that’s what I would like to think now. I stammered, blabbered and stuttered, and I was kicked out. Vernita cleared the interview. Avantika was to blame.
I spent the rest of the afternoon in a shitty mood. I had planned to curl up in my bed, watch television and cry for the rest of the night when my phone rang. It was Shrey and I first hesitated to take his call, but then I thought I could use the distraction.
‘Deb? Can you come to my place? Right now,’ he said. It had to be one of the two reasons he usually called over for. It was either a new movie he had got hold of or he had come up with some robotic bullshit of his. He usually had to lie for the latter.
‘Shrey, I am not exactly in the mood. I had a long day. That bitch Vernita got through another interview and I screwed up again. I don’t think I will ever be employed.’
‘We have broken up,’ he said, sounding as if he had been asked to stop going to NPL.
I have to go. This is serious. I disconnected the call and headed to his place. His mother told me he was upstairs.
‘What happened?’ I asked and switched on the lights of his room.
His eyes were bloodshot. He had been crying before I reached. I had seen quite a few girls do that and used to think that I would never see a guy do the same. ‘She found someone else at work,’ he said. He announced the news as if she had died.
Va
ndana had been working at an analytic firm known for its vibrant work environment. A vibrant work environment generally means a healthy gender ratio and a great sex life. That’s how we interpret it.
‘Who?’ I asked. I was somewhat bewildered. I had never thought Shrey would go to the extent of crying for her. That’s something girls are best and prolific at. I thought Shrey would take the break-up offered to him on a silver platter and move on.
‘It’s some guy she met in the office. She said they became close during the two months I was away.’
‘But did she give you a reason?’
‘She says she can’t rely on me any more. He apparently has a great career in front of him. She has even met his parents. It’s over between the two of us. I should never have gone to Paris,’ he murmured.
‘Are these guys getting married or something?’ I asked. I had always been a gossipmonger. So was Avantika. And she would kill me if I didn’t give her all the details. I knew he loved Vandana, but I also knew he would get over it and find someone else to run after in a few days.
‘Not right now, but they have plans to get married eventually. That’s why she met his parents,’ he said.
‘How old is this guy?’ I continued with my research. ‘And how the hell does he have a better future than you? You’re like this technology genius!’
‘I don’t know. He has just done English honours or something and claims to earn a lot. He’s just twenty-four,’ he said as he located that guy on a popular social networking site.
‘Damn! He looks thirty. Or probably even more … and is awesomely bad-looking. How can anybody possibly like him?’
I wasn’t trying to soothe him. The guy, Suhel, really looked like a monster. With big fat lips jutting out of a square face. He’d put up some stupid snaps taken in front of the Petronas Towers with some Thai people, flashing his big hideous smile. Such a wannabe. His jeans looked straight out of the eighties and his jumper sweater was in sync with his monstrous face.
The nobody-is-a-stud-except-us formula worked again. We found something wrong with a perfectly normal guy, again. Apart from his previously established grotesque looks. Besides, what was I supposed to tell Shrey? I think he is a perfectly normal guy who deserves Vandana? Of course not.