Five Point Someone Read online

  “Miserable as usual. There was another big drama at home last weekend. There’s yet another suitable match for my sister but we can’t cough up the suitable money. Hence, either we say no or sign IOUs, meaning give it later when I pass out of the insti, get a job and then pay for it.”

  “That’s tough,” Ryan noted, who had just joined us after waking up from his royal siesta.

  “But it is my duty man and I love them. I don’t see it as trouble,” Alok said dully.

  “So what job are you going to take up?” I said.

  “Whichever pays the most, I don’t care,” Alok said.

  “That is crap. Don’t you want to do something you really like?”

  “I like money,” Alok said as he finished his food. Until he had the money, paranthas would do.

  We were mid-way through the semester now, and every now and then I would start thinking about my goal – to do well in Indem. By third year, ever y IITian knows his place. We were now five-pointers frozen in our place; we had modest expectations, and our grades never disappointed us. However, in Indem I wanted an A, something that had never been on my grade sheet. Alok warned me about my lofty ambition. “Cherian will chew you alive man. You hardly sleep these days. You know he gives only two or three As, right?”

  “I do. But I have to give it my best. It is not just a stupid grade, but Neha at stake.”

  “How much have you scored so far in the assignments?”

  “Thirty-three out of forty. Worked like a dog on all of them.”

  “Yes right. You need eighty total to get an A.”

  “I know, out of that the viva is ten, and the major is fifty.”

  “So unless you get almost a full score in the majors, you have to do decently in the vivas.”

  “I know. So this time, I have to pull it through,” I said, abjectly nervous at the thought.

  “Just relax man, a B won’t be that bad.”

  “An A Alok, I want an A.”

  “Fine then. All the best,” Alok said as Sasi delivered more paranthas.

  “How is your girl?” Ryan said.

  “Neha is fine. Just took me to the place where her brother met with the accident. Isn’t that weird?” I said.

  “Maybe because you are special. And the place holds special meaning for her,” Alok shrugged.

  “Fatso is right. She likes you man,” Ryan said. “When did her brother die anyway?”

  “Around three years ago. May 11 to be precise. He had gone jogging when they got a call mid-morning, hit by a ring railway train.”

  “Wow, that is incredible,” Alok said, “and I thought no one used the ring railway.”

  “He wasn’t using it Fatso. He just got hit by it,” Ryan clarified.

  “Yes, pretty gory.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Though who goes jogging on a bloody hot May morning?” Ryan wanted to know.

  “Shut up man. The guy is dead, and you are making fun of him,” I protested.

  “No. That is not what I mean. I mean, hey Fatso, what time does the first ring railway train run?”

  “I don’t know,” Alok said, busy eating his paranthas and somewhat pissed at the frequent reference to him as Fatso.

  “I know, ten I think. Why?” I said.

  “Well, think about it, ten in the morning in May. I think it is close to forty degrees and crap hot. Who goes jogging on a May morning?”

  “Well, he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have died, right?” Alok said, obviously irritated. He never went jogging, so I guess he didn’t know better.

  “I know he died. But my point is…” Ryan said, “anyway, forget it.”

  “What? I want to know,” I said.

  “My point is, was it an accident at all.”

  I woke up with a headache on the day of Cherian’s viva. There were a couple of weeks left until the majors, but today would seal my Indem fate. “Try to sleep, try to sleep,” I had told myself about a million times the night before, all to no use.

  “God, you look a mess,” Ryan greeted in the toilet as we were shaving together.

  “Couldn’t sleep much. Hell, I know I am going to screw this one up,” I said and slapped water on my face.

  Ryan pressed the nozzle of his Gillette shaving gel and prepared his twin-blade sensor razor. His parents had sent him all these contraptions to look even better as if the guy needed to improve his looks. Why couldn’t he get a few pimples now and again like say Alok?

  “Listen Hari,” Ryan said making clean strokes across his cheek, “you have busted your ass for this course already. You mess this up, and there is no hope for you man. You probably know the answers better than anyone else.”

  “Since when has knowing the answers been a problem? And this is Cherian, even normal guys get scared,” I said.

  “See, I am not even going for his viva. But if you are so scared, I have an idea.”

  “You aren’t coming? Ryan, it is ten percent. And Cherian will go ape-shit if a student doesn’t even come to the viva.”

  “I have vowed not to view that bastard’s face as much as I can. And who cares about ten percent, I don’t have to impress the dad.”

  “Up to you. I still think you should come. Anyway, what is your idea?”

  “I don’t know if it will work.”

  “Just tell me man. I am desperate,” I said.

  Ryan wiped his face with a towel. He opened a bottle of some fancy overpriced American aftershave and splashed it liberally on his cheeks.

  “Vodka: the solution to all problems.”

  “What? Vodka? I am talking about a viva Ryan, I am not organizing a party.”

  “I know. But you know how vodka makes one less inhibited and makes you talk more? Who knows, a couple of swigs and it may work for you.”

  “You are crazy. The viva is at eleven in the morning. It is hardly the time to drink...”

  “If you get a zero in his viva, you think Neha will ever introduce you to daddy?”

  The image of a zero and a B or C in Indem flashed across my mind. “How much?”

  “Just a couple of shots. Come, I have some in my closet.”

  I went to Ryan’s room where amidst branded clothes he hid his stash of alcohol. Alongside the bottle were envelopes, all with US stamps.

  Ryan poured vodka in a steel glass, making it a third-full.

  “What are those envelopes?” I said.

  “Nothing. Here, one shot…one, two, three,” Ryan said.

  I couldn’t believe the envelopes were unimportant. I mean, there were like a hundred of them literally.

  “Letters from your parents, aren’t they?” I hazarded a guess.

  “Yeah. Here have another one,” Ryan said.

  “You sure this won’t be too much?” I said.

  “No. In fact have a third one just to be sure. Here, I’ll accompany you.”

  With that, Ryan joined me in my third shot. The vodka went down like a fireball, hitting my empty stomach, spearing my intestines.

  “All right then, off I go to meet the daddy,” I said cheerfully.

  “All the best, Hari. And listen, just don’t tell Alok about the envelopes.”

  “Tell what?” I said. I hardly knew anything about them and I wouldn’t have if Ryan hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Nothing, just don’t mention it. They write ever y week, and send a cheque once a month. I never reply, that is all.”

  “Why don’t you reply?” I asked, basking in the spirit inside of me.

  “’Cause I hate them. Actually, I don’t care about them. I mean, neither do they about me. So why pretend?”

  Ryan said. “Ryan, you know this whole big deal you make about not caring about your parents?” the vodka spoke for me.

  “Yeah, what about that?”

  “I don’t think it is true. I mean, how can it be true?” I said, ignoring his hostile stance. I kind of meant it. With all the Gillette and aftershaves they sent, how could he not love them?

  “It’s true. You are a k