Revolution 2020: Love Corruption Ambition Read online

  Mrs Shrivastava cleared the table. We moved to the drawing room.

  ‘What’s your admission strategy?’ Shrivastava said.

  ‘We are advertising in all newspapers. Participating in career fairs, also approaching schools and coaching classes,’ I said.

  ‘Approaching schools for what?’ he asked.

  ‘We’ll go to schools and make a presentation on our college,’ I said.

  ‘Who cares about the presentation? Did you fix the principals?’ Shrivastava said.

  ‘We will, don’t worry,’ Bedi said.

  ‘We will what?’ I said. I hated it when Bedi didn’t tell me things beforehand.

  ‘I will explain to you. Let’s go, we have other meetings,’ Bedi said and stood up. ‘Thanks, sir, will see you on Friday.’

  Shrivastava came to see us off at the door. ‘When do I get my first salary?’ he said.

  ‘I will send the cash home,’ I said.

  We had five more faculty prospects to meet. Shukla-ji had given us an Innova car for exclusive use of the college. We proceeded to Mughal Sarai to meet a retired chemical engineering professor.

  ‘I am so relieved the dean is done,’ Bedi said as the car reached the highway.

  ‘He seemed more Mr Deal than Mr Dean to me,’ I quipped.

  ‘He has worked in private colleges before. He knows he is in demand. Don’t take his tantrums personally,’ Bedi said.

  ‘What did he mean by “fix” the school principals?’ I said.

  ‘The schools have a big influence on where the child goes next. Many try for an IIT and NIT, most don’t make it. Where do they go?’

  ‘Where?’ I said.

  ‘That’s where we come in. Private colleges can fulfil your dream of becoming an engineer, even if you didn’t clear the entrance exam. The problem is, there are so many private colleges now. How does the student choose?’

  I asked the driver to decrease the temperature of the air-conditioner, to beat the forty degrees outside. ‘How?’ I said.

  ‘They go with the school teachers’ and principals’ advice. Who else can they trust?’

  ‘True,’ I said. ‘So, we ask the principal to recommend our college?’

  ‘Exactly! You are smart,’ Bedi said, probably in sarcasm.

  ‘Do we bribe them too?’ I said.

  ‘Yes. But never say that word, especially to school principals. Anyway, it is a straightforward calculation. We give them ten per cent of the fee we take for every admission.’

  A defined sum doesn’t sound like a bribe.

  ‘We give ten per cent to anyone – coaching classes, career fair organisers or whoever helps us fill up the college.’

  ‘Ten per cent it is,’ I said.

  ‘You are working on the media plan, right?’ he said.

  My thoughts went to our media strategy, then to Raghav, and from there to Aarti. It is amazing how the brain will connect one thought to another until it gets to where it wants to be.

  Bedi continued to talk about how we will fill two hundred students for the first batch. I tuned out, looking at the fields outside and remembering Aarti’s flowing hair as she took a sip from my drink in Raghav’s balcony. Life is a bitch when the only woman you can think of belongs to someone else.

  20

  I saw Raghav enter the campus from the window of my office. I had screamed at the carpenters to get my office desk and chairs finished in time. Apart from the missing visitors’ sofa, my office had become functional. The air-conditioner worked. I increased the cooling to maximum to ensure Raghav noticed it. I surrounded myself with files. He came and knocked on the half-open door.

  ‘Yes?’ I said and looked up.

  ‘We did say two o’ clock, right?’ Raghav said. He wore a white shirt and blue jeans.

  ‘Hi, Raghav. Sorry, I keep so busy, I lose track of time sometimes,’ I said.

  He sat across me. I sat on the director’s chair. I wondered if he noticed how I had a far more plush chair than his.

  He took out his notepad, pen and a few printouts. ‘I did some research, whatever I could find on the college.’

  ‘You won’t find much. We are new,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, but I found a lot on one of the trustees, Shukla.’

  ‘Of course, he is a popular politician. But he isn’t really involved in the functioning of the college.’

  ‘He’s involved in many other things though.’ Raghav smoothed out the printout with the questions.

  ‘Tea?’ I said.

  He nodded. I rang the bell. I had asked the peon to bring tea in the bone china cups we kept for special guests. Not that Raghav counted as special. However, I wanted him to know we had tea in fancy cups.

  He looked around the huge twenty-by-eighteen-feet office. I wanted to ask him if anyone in his newspaper had such a big office, but controlled myself.

  He noticed an architect’s model of the campus behind me. ‘Can I take a look?’ he said.

  ‘Sure,’ I said and jumped up. ‘Let me show you all the facilities.’

  I explained the campus layout to him. ‘The hostels are here. We will keep adding more rooms with successive batches. The classrooms and faculty offices are here, in the main building we are in right now. The labs are in a separate building. All imported equipment.’

  ‘What will be the faculty ratio?’ Raghav said, taking frantic notes.

  ‘We are targeting no more than one teacher per fifteen students,’ I said, ‘which is better than the AICTE norms. One day we want to be better than BHU.’

  He looked at me.

  ‘Just as a goal. Who else is there to compare with?’ I said.

  He shrugged his shoulders in support.

  The tea arrived. I had instructed the peon to serve at least five snacks. He brought nuts, biscuits, samosas, potato chips and cut fruits.

  ‘That’s not tea. That’s a meal,’ Raghav said.

  ‘Please have. We can continue the interview later,’ I said as the peon served us.

  We ate in silence. I didn’t want to discuss anything other than the college with him. He picked up his notepad as he ate.

  ‘What kind of investment went into this college?’ he said.

  ‘Lots. Engineering colleges aren’t cheap,’ I said and laughed, avoiding any real figures.

  ‘How much exactly?’ he said.

  ‘Hard to say. I had the land, but if you had to buy it, you can imagine the prices,’ I said.

  ‘Isn’t this agricultural land?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, you know that, Raghav. Remember Baba’s court case?’

  ‘You managed to get it from your relatives?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, but that’s not going into the interview, right?’ I said.

  ‘No. But tell me, how did this agricultural land get re-zoned?’

  ‘We applied, the VNN approved,’ I said.

  He continued to take notes.

  ‘Everything is approved,’ I repeated, perhaps too defensively.

  ‘Because of Shukla?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ I said, somewhat irritated. ‘Because we followed procedures.’

  ‘Fine. How much did the college cost apart from the land?’ he said.

  ‘I am not sure if I can reveal that. It is, after all, competitive information. But anyone who visits our campus can see it is state of the art,’ I said.

  ‘More than five crores?’ he persisted. I shouldn’t have entered his guessing game.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘More than ten?’ he said.

  ‘How is the actual number relevant?’ I said.

  ‘Where did the money come from?’ he said.

  ‘From the trustees and their associates.’

  ‘Whose associates? Yours or Shukla’s?’ he said.

  ‘I gave the land. Shukla-ji arranged for the funds, for the benefit of this town. We are a non-profit trust,’ I said.

  ‘Do you know where the MLA arranged the funds from?’ Raghav asked, without looking up from his diary.