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  She laughed. ‘How are you? When will your college actually have students?’

  ‘When we manage to please every Indian government official on this earth,’ I said. ‘Actually, I had called for some work.’

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘I wanted to meet your dad.’

  ‘Really? How come?’

  ‘We need some help in getting through to the state university.’

  ‘You want to speak to him now?’

  ‘No, I’d prefer to meet him face to face,’ I said.

  ‘Would you like to meet me face to face?’ she said. ‘Or am I still on the blacklist? To be called only in work emergencies.’

  ‘Nothing like that. We can catch up after I meet your dad.’

  ‘Of course, work first,’ she said in a sarcastic tone.

  ‘My admissions are stuck, Aarti. It’s urgent,’ I said.

  ‘Okay, okay, fine. Hold on a second, let me check with him,’ she said.

  She spoke to her father and picked up the phone again. ‘Tomorrow morning at eight?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I will see you then.’

  ‘You never come home now. Not friends with Aarti anymore?’ DM Pradhan said.

  We sat in his study. A lifesize portrait of Aarti’s grandfather, ex-CM Brij Pradhan, stared at me from the wall. DM Pradhan – broad faced with chiselled features, fit and proud – sipped coffee with me.

  ‘Nothing like that, Uncle. Work keeps me busy,’ I said.

  ‘I have heard about your college. Shukla-ji’s involed in it, right?’ DM Pradhan said.

  ‘Yes, and now we are one step away from admissions,’ I said and explained the problem with VC Tiwari.

  He heard me out and then said, ‘Let me see.’ He took out his cellphone and called the VC.

  ‘Tiwari sir? Hello, Pratap Pradhan here … Yes, long time. How are you?’

  Aarti’s father fixed a meeting between us and Tiwari in the afternoon.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I said, preparing to leave.

  ‘You are welcome. Listen, have you paid Tiwari?’

  I felt awkward discussing such issues with Aarti’s dad, so I kept quiet.

  ‘I know how the education business works. Tiwari talks intellectual, but he wants his share. I hope you guys won’t get me involved with that.’

  ‘Not at all, sir,’ I said. ‘Even I don’t deal with that stuff. I only look after the college.’

  ‘So all such work is done by Shukla-ji’s men?’ Aarti’s father asked.

  ‘Yes,’ I said as I gazed at the floor.

  ‘Good, you are like me then,’ he said. ‘Practical enough to leave the people who do the funny stuff alone.’

  I nodded and bowed to him before I left his room.

  ‘One chocolate milk shake with ice cream, please,’ Aarti said. We had come to the same CCD in Sigra where Sunil had brought me after the career fair debacle.

  ‘Black tea,’ I said.

  She wore a mauve chikan salwar-kameez. Her father had bought it for her from Lucknow. She removed her white dupatta and kept it aside.

  The waiter placed her milk shake on the table. She put her lips to the straw, without touching the overflowing glass with her hands. ‘I often spill this. I better be careful,’ she said.

  Wisps of her hair brushed the table as she sipped her drink. The entire café checked her out.

  ‘We should totally do this more often,’ she said, ‘coffee meetings. Even though neither of us is having coffee.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said.

  ‘Why? You don’t like meeting me?’ she said. ‘So much for being my best friend for over ten years!’

  ‘Raghav won’t appreciate it,’ I said.

  ‘What is wrong in meeting for coffee? Besides, Raghav is too busy to be bothered by such things.’

  ‘Of course, big reporter now. I met him,’ I said as I lifted my cup.

  ‘You did,’ she said, still sipping her milk shake as her eyebrows shot up.

  ‘He interviewed me, for his paper.’

  ‘What for?’ she said.

  ‘Local boy starts college.’

  ‘It’s true. Quite an achievement.’

  ‘Yeah, for a loser like me.’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she said. ‘Hey, you’d like something to eat?’

  Before I could answer she ordered two chocolate chip muffins. If Aarti had a choice, there would be nothing but chocolate to eat in the world.

  ‘How’s your job-hunt going?’ I said.

  ‘I have an offer. I am not sure I want to take it.’

  ‘Really? What is the offer?’

  ‘Guest relations trainee, Ramada Hotel. They are opening up in Cantonment.’

  ‘Five-star, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, they came to meet dad for some work. Dad found out about the vacancy, I applied and now they want me to start next month.’

  ‘Go for it. I know you, you can’t sit at home,’ I said.

  ‘You know me better than most people, Gopal,’ she said, ‘but …’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  The muffins arrived but she didn’t touch them. I noticed her eyes. They had turned moist. A tear trickled down her cheek.

  ‘Aarti, are you okay?’ I passed her a tissue.

  She wiped her eyes and returned the eyeliner-stained tissue to me. ‘Once I join, my parents will say – this is a good job, close to home, stay here. If I sulk at home, maybe they will let me try for some airline.’

  I scoffed at her. ‘What is the need to cry for this? You’ve got a good job. You have done a course in hospitality …’

  ‘Aviation, not hospitality.’

  ‘Fine, but a flight attendant also serves guests, like hotel staff. And a guest relations trainee has better scope for growth. Trainee today, officer tomorrow, maybe GM of the hotel some day. You are smart. You will rise.’

  She sniffed a few times to control herself.

  ‘You think so?’ she said, her eyes even more beautiful when glistening with tears.

  I couldn’t respond, so lost was I in the details of her face.

  ‘What? Did the eyeliner spread?’ she laughed. ‘I am so stupid, crying away like a baby.’

  ‘No, you are not. You wouldn’t have got the job otherwise,’ I said.

  ‘Should I take it?’

  ‘Why not? Quit if you don’t like it. What does Raghav say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I haven’t met him since the offer. I called him, but he said I should do whatever I want. He is in some village this week for a story.’

  ‘It’s good for both of you if you stay here,’ I said.

  ‘Well, he didn’t say that at all.’

  ‘I am sure he realises it.’

  ‘I don’t think he cares so much about my issues, unless I am involved in a corruption scandal,’ she said.

  I smiled like she had intended me to. I asked for the bill.

  ‘So, coffee friends?’

  ‘We are friends,’ I said.

  ‘Cool. It’s not officially open, but I will show you the hotel sometime. It’s pretty grand.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  ‘When can I see GangaTech?’ she said.

  ‘Two more weeks,’ I said, ‘I promise. It’s almost done.’

  We walked to her car.

  ‘I laughed, I cried. It is so nice to meet you,’ Aarti said.

  ‘Same here, I didn’t cry though,’ I said.

  She laughed again. She hugged me and held me slightly longer than usual.

  ‘Old friends are old friends, Gopal. Boyfriends and all are fine, but they never understand you like old friends can.’

  I hated the word ‘friends’ but didn’t say anything, just waved goodbye.

  My phone rang. Bedi.

  ‘The VC has called us for a meeting. The phone call from the DM worked. They know each other from childhood,’ he said.

  ‘Old friends are old friends,’ I sai