Revolution 2020: Love Corruption Ambition Read online

  ‘Happy birthday again, bye!’ she said.

  A number of birthday messages popped into my inbox. They came from various contractors, inspectors and government officials I had pleased in the past. The only other personal message was from Shukla-ji, who called me up.

  ‘May you live a thousand years,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks, you remembered?’ I replied.

  ‘You are like my son,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Shukla-ji, and good night,’ I said.

  I switched off the lights. I tried to sleep before the big day tomorrow.

  39

  ‘Enough, enough,’ I said as the tenth student fed me cake.

  We had assembled in the foyer of the main campus building. The staff and students had come to wish me. The faculty gave me a tea-set as a gift. The students sang a prayer song for my long life.

  ‘Sir, we hope for your next birthday there will be a Mrs Director on campus,’ Suresh, a cheeky first-year student, announced in front of everyone, leading to huge applause. I smiled and checked the time. It was two o’ clock. I thanked everyone with folded hands.

  I left the main building to walk home.

  Happy birthday!: Aarti messaged me.

  Where are you?: I asked.

  Double shift just started. ☹, she sent her response.

  Vinod called me at 2:15. My heart raced.

  ‘Hi,’ I said nervously.

  ‘The girls are in a white Tata Indica. They are on the highway, will reach campus in five minutes.’

  ‘I’ll inform the gate,’ I said.

  ‘You will pay cash?’

  ‘Yes. Why, you take credit cards?’ I said.

  ‘We do, for foreigners. But cash is best,’ Vinod said.

  I asked my maids to go to their quarters and not disturb me for the next four hours. I called the guard-post and instructed them to let the white Indica in. I also told them to inform me if anyone else came to meet me.

  The bell rang all too soon. I opened the front door to find a creepy man. Two girls stood behind him. One wore a cheap nylon leopard-print top and jeans. The other wore a purple lace cardigan and brown pants. I could tell these girls didn’t find western clothes comfortable. Perhaps it helped them fetch a better price.

  The creepy man wore a shiny blue shirt and white trousers.

  ‘These are fine?’ he asked me, man to man.

  I looked at the girls’ faces. They had too much make-up on for early afternoon. However, I had little choice.

  ‘They are okay,’ I said.

  ‘Payment?’

  I had kept the money ready in my pocket. I handed a bundle of notes to him.

  ‘I’ll wait in the car,’ he said.

  ‘Outside the campus, please,’ I said. The creepy man left. I nodded at the girls to follow me. Inside, we sat on the sofas.

  ‘I’m Roshni. You are the client?’ the girl in the leopard print said. She seemed more confident of the two.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘For both of us?’ Roshni said.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said.

  Roshni squeezed my shoulder.

  ‘Strong man,’ she said.

  ‘What’s her name?’ I said.

  ‘Pooja,’ the girl in the hideous purple lace said.

  ‘Not your real names, right?’ I said.

  Roshni and Pooja, or the girls who called themselves that, giggled.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said.

  Roshni looked around. ‘Where do we do it?’

  ‘Upstairs, in the bedroom,’ I said.

  ‘Let’s go then,’ Roshni said, very focused on work.

  ‘What’s the hurry?’ I said.

  Pooja was the quieter of the two but wore a fixed smile as she waited for further instructions.

  ‘Why wait?’ Roshni said.

  ‘I have paid for the entire afternoon. We’ll go upstairs when it is time,’ I said.

  ‘What do we do until then?’ Roshni said, a tad too aggressive.

  ‘Sit,’ I said.

  ‘Can we watch TV?’ Pooja asked meekly. She pointed to the screen. I gave them the remote. They put on a local cable channel that was playing Salman Khan’s Maine Pyaar Kiya. We sat and watched the movie in silence. The heroine told the hero that in friendship there is ‘no sorry, no thank you,’ whatever that meant. After a while, the heroine burst into song, asking a pigeon to take a letter to the hero. Roshni started to hum along.

  ‘No singing, please,’ I said.

  Roshni seemed offended. I didn’t care. I hadn’t hired her for her singing skills.

  ‘Do we keep sitting here?’ Roshni said at three-thirty.

  ‘It’s okay, didi,’ Pooja said, who obviously loved Salman too much. I was surprised Pooja called her co-worker sister, considering what they could be doing in a while.

  The movie ended at 4 p.m.

  ‘Now what?’ Roshni said.

  ‘Switch the channel,’ I suggested.

  The landline rang at four-thirty. I ran to pick up the phone.

  ‘Sir, Raju from security gate. A madam is here to see you,’ he said.

  ‘What’s her name?’ I said.

  ‘She is not saying, sir. She has some packets in her hand.’

  ‘Send her in two minutes,’ I said. I calculated she would be here in five minutes.

  ‘Okay, sir,’ he said.

  I rushed out and left the main gate and the front door wide open. I turned to the girls.

  ‘Let’s go up,’ I said.

  ‘What? You in the mood now?’ Roshni giggled.

  ‘Now!’ I snapped my fingers. ‘You too, Pooja, or whoever you are.’

  The girls jumped to their feet, shocked by my tone. The three of us went up the stairs. We came to the bedroom, the bed.

  ‘So, how does this work?’ I said.

  ‘What?’ Roshni said. ‘Is it your first time?’

  ‘Talk less and do more,’ I said. ‘What do you do first?’

  Roshni and Pooja shared a look, mentally laughing at me.

  ‘Remove your clothes,’ Roshni said.

  I took off my shirt.

  ‘You too,’ I said to both of them. They hesitated for a second, as I had left the door slightly ajar.

  ‘Nobody’s home,’ I said.

  The girls took off their clothes. I felt too tense to notice any details. Roshni clearly had the heavier, bustier frame. Pooja’s petite frame made her appear malnourished.

  ‘Get into bed,’ I ordered.

  The two, surprised by my less than amorous tone, crept into bed like scared kittens.

  ‘You want us to do it?’ Roshni asked, trying to grasp the situation. ‘Lesbian scene?’

  ‘Wait,’ I said. I ran to the bedroom window. I saw a white Ambassador car with a red light park outside. Aarti stepped out, and rang the bell once. When nobody answered, she came on to the lawn. She had a large scrapbook in her hand, along with a box from the Ramada bakery. I lost sight of her as she came into the house.

  40

  ‘You are a strange customer,’ Roshni commented.

  ‘Shh!’ I said and slid between the two naked women.

  Roshni quickly began to kiss my neck as Pooja bent to take off my belt.

  I started to count my breaths. On my fiftieth exhale I heard footsteps. By now the girls had taken off my belt most expertly and were trying to undo my jeans. On my sixtieth inhale came the knock on the door. On my sixty-fifth breath I heard three women scream at the same time.

  ‘Happy birt … Oh my God!’ Aarti’s voice filled the room.

  Roshni and Pooja gasped in fear and covered their faces with the bed-sheet. I sat on the bed, looking suitably surprised. Aarti froze. The hired girls, more prepared for such a situation, ran into the bathroom.

  ‘Gopal!’ Aarti said on a high note of disbelief.

  ‘Aarti,’ I said and stepped out of bed. As I re-buttoned my jeans and wore my shirt, Aarti ran out of the room.

  I followed her down the stairs. She ran down fast,