One Night at the Call Center Read online

  Priyanka was busy on the phone, scaring Americans out of their wits. I think she can put on that voice of authority whenever she wants, and it's impossible not to believe her. It comes from her mother, I think. After she had ended a call, Vroom spoke to her.

  “Hey, Priyanka, quick question. My cousin also did a Masters in computers in the U.S. Which college did Ganesh go to?”

  “Huh? Wisconsin, I think,” she said.

  “Really. Let me e-mail my cousin and ask him if it's the same one. What's Ganesh's full name by the way?”

  “Gupta. Ganesh Gupta,” Priyanka said as she prepared to make another call.

  “Oooh. Mrs. Priyanka Gupta,” Esha said, putting on a smart voice and laughing. Priyanka poked her with her elbow. Priyanka's new name sent ripples of pain down my rib cage.

  “Cool. Keep calling,” Vroom said and went back to his seat.

  As Vroom's monitor was broken, he took control of my computer. He searched for the following terms on google.com:

  ganesh gupta drunk Wisconsin

  ganesh gupta fines Wisconsin

  ganesh gupta girlfriend

  Several links popped out, but there was nothing we could make much sense or use of. We hit upon Ganesh's list of classmates, and found out that he was on the Dean's list in Boston.

  “Damn, what a boring guy. Let me try again,” Vroom said.

  ganesh gupta fail

  ganesh gupta party

  ganesh gupta drugs

  Nothing interesting emerged.

  “Forget it, man. He was probably the head boy at school,” I said.

  “You bet, one of those teacher's pet types,” Vroom said, letting out a frustrated breath. “I give up. I'm sure if I type something like ‘ganesh gupta microsoft award’ plenty of things will pop out, achiever that he is.”

  More links popped out. We clicked through a few, and then we hit on one with his picture. It was Ganesh's online album.

  “Damn, it is him, with his mates,” Vroom whispered and clicked on the link. “Let's check out how ugly his friends are.”

  The link opened to a webpage titled “Microsoft Award party photos.” The party was at Ganesh's house. Ganesh had won some developer award at Microsoft and a couple of his friends had come to his house to celebrate.

  “Look at the slideshow,” I said as Vroom selected the option. We looked up once to confirm the girls were still busy with their calls.

  As the picture flicked onto the screen we saw a garden party full of Indian people. On the tables there was enough food to feed a small town. I saw Ganesh's house and the famous personal pool, which was no more than an oversized bathtub, if you ask me, even though Ganesh had made it sound like Olympic champions trained in it.

  “Hey, I think we've found something. Check out our man,” Vroom said. He pointed to one of the photos in which Ganesh held a beer glass.

  “What's the big deal?” I said. It was hardly scandalous to hold a glass of beer. Priyanka herself could knock back ten if they were free.

  “Check out Ganesh's head,” Vroom said.

  “What?” I said. I looked closer and then I saw it.

  “Oh no,” I said and covered my mouth to keep my voice down.

  Ganesh had a bald spot in the middle of his head. It was the size of a Happy Meal burger and had caught the camera's flashlight.

  “Unbelie—” I said.

  “Shhh!” Vroom said. “Did you see that? He has perfect hair in the Statue of Liberty picture.”

  “Are all his photos in this album like this?” I said.

  “Yes, sir,” Vroom said and flicked through the slideshow One boring picture after another followed, mainly of people with mouths and plates stuffed with food. Every picture had one thing in common, though: Wherever Ganesh was, so was the shiny spot.

  Vroom pushed his computer mouse away and reclined on his chair with a proud expression, “As I said, sir, no one is perfect. Apart from Google, of course.”

  I looked at the screen and back at Vroom.

  “So, now what?” I said.

  “Now we invite the ladies for a viewing,” Vroom said and grinned.

  “No, that's not right…” I said, but it was too late.

  “Esha, Radhika, Priyanka. Do you want to see some more Ganesh pictures? Come here quickly,” Vroom said.

  The girls dropped their phone calls and looked over at us. Esha and Radhika stood up.

  “Where, where? Show us,” Esha said.

  “What are you talking about?” Priyanka said and came over to our side.

  “The power of the Internet. We found an online album. Come and see what your new house is like,” Vroom said. He kept quiet about the shiny spot so that the girls could see it for themselves. I saw the mixture of excitement and curiosity in Priyanka's face.

  “Nice pad,” Esha said as she noticed the barbecue behind the pool, “but where's Ganesh. Let me guess,” she said and touched the monitor with her finger. “Here, this one, no. But wait, he's a baldie. Is he the elder brother?”

  Priyanka and Radhika looked closer.

  “No, that's Ganesh,” Priyanka said, her open mouth as round as the bald spot. I could sense that the wind had been knocked out of her sails.

  “But I didn't notice the bald spot in the photo you showed us, Priyanka,” Esha said. Radhika squeezed

  Esha's arm. Esha stopped talking and raised her eyebrows.

  Priyanka came up closer to the screen and began flipping through the images. She didn't notice, but her hair was falling on my shoulders as she bent over. It felt nice.

  But Priyanka wasn't feeling nice. She brought out the Statue of Liberty picture and we looked at it again. Ganesh had perfect hair.

  “Maybe the guy in the online album is Ganesh's elder brother,” Radhika said.

  “No. Ganesh doesn't have a brother. He only has one sister,” Priyanka said, her face distraught at the fact that he had deceived her like that. Such a tiny lie could lead to bigger lies.

  There was silence for a few seconds.

  “Well, it doesn't really matter much, eh? What's a bit of smooth skin between the true love of two souls?” Vroom said. I clamped my jaws shut to prevent a laugh escaping. “Let's go back, people, enough fun. Don't forget to keep calling,” Vroom said.

  Priyanka retraced her steps in slow motion. She went back to her seat and took out her mobile phone. She dialed a long number, probably long distance. This call was going to be fun—I only wished I could tap into it.

  “Hello, Ganesh,” Priyanka said in a direct voice. “Listen, I can't talk for long. I just want to check on something … yes, just one question … actually I was just surfing the Internet…” Priyanka said and got up from her seat. She moved to the corner of the room where I could no longer hear her.

  I made a few calls and terrorized some more Americans. Priyanka returned after ten minutes and tossed her cellphone on the desk.

  Esha jiggled her eyebrows up and down, as if to ask, “What's up?”

  “It is him in the online pictures,” Priyanka said. “He didn't have much to say. He said his mother asked him to touch up his hair slightly in the Statue of Liberty snap as it would help in the arranged marriage market.”

  “Oh no,” Esha wailed.

  “He apologized several times, saying he'd been against tampering with the picture, but had to agree when his mother insisted.”

  “Can't he think for himself?” Esha said. “That's not a good sign.”

  “Oh god, what am I going to do?” Priyanka said.

  “Did the apologies seem genuine?” Radhika said.

  “Yes, I think so. He said he understood how I must feel and that he was ready to apologize in front of my family as well.”

  “Well, then it's OK. What difference does it make? You don't really care about him being bald, do you?” Radhika said.

  “Yeah, besides practically all men become bald in a few years anyway. It's not like you can do anything about it then,” Esha said.

  “That's tr