Revolution Twenty20 Read online

  I reached the STD booth close to midnight. I picked up the phone at 11:58 p.m. and dialled her number. I got a busy signal. I tried again but couldn’t get through. I made five attempts but the line was still engaged.

  ‘Let other customers call,’ the shopkeeper said.

  Fortunately, only one other person stood in line – a student waiting to call his mother in Guwahati to wish her a happy birthday. I waited patiently as he ended his call at 12:05 a.m.

  I rushed into the booth and called Aarti again. The line came busy. After several attempts the shopkeeper gave me looks of sympathy. He told me he had to shut his shop by 12:30 a.m. I tried calling many more times, at two-minute intervals, but to no avail.

  I don’t know why, but I decided to call Raghav’s house. It being a Friday night I knew Raghav would be home for the weekend. I hesitated for a second before I dialled his number. Of course, if the phone rang so late the whole house would be startled. However, my suspicions were right. The line was busy.

  I tried Raghav’s and Aarti’s numbers in quick succession. I could not get through to either.

  My good wishes for Aarti vanished as my excitement gave way to anger.

  Why did Raghav have to wish her at midnight? And do birthday wishes take so long?

  The shopkeeper tapped my booth window. ‘The police will harass me if I stay open any longer.’

  ‘Do you know where I can find an STD booth open?’ I said.

  ‘Railway station,’ the shopkeeper said. He switched off the lit sign.

  No auto-rickshaw agreed to go to the railway station at a reasonable price at that hour. If I ran I could cover the five-kilometre distance in half an hour.

  I reached platform 1 of Kota station at 1:00 a.m., panting after my five-kilometre jog. Even at this hour the station was bustling. A train arrived and the general-quota passengers ran for seats.

  I found an STD booth and called Aarti. This time the phone rang. I took a deep breath. My temper was not something I was proud of. I wanted to keep it under check as the birthday girl picked up the phone.

  ‘Hello?’ DM Pradhan spoke instead.

  ‘Hello, uncle? Uncle, Gopal,’ I blurted out, even though I should have probably hung up. After so many attempts I had to talk to her.

  ‘Oh, yes. Hold on,’ he said and screamed for Aarti.

  Aarti came close to the phone. I could hear her conversation with her father.

  ‘How much will you talk on the phone? Your friends keep calling,’ her father grumbled.

  ‘It’s my birthday, dad,’ Aarti said and picked up the phone.

  ‘Happy birthday, Aarti,’ I said, trying to sound excited.

  ‘Hey, Gopal! Thanks. That’s so sweet of you. You stayed up so late to wish me?’ she said.

  I also ran five kilometres and will walk back five more, I wanted to say but didn’t. ‘I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour.’

  ‘Really?’ Aarti said.

  ‘Yeah, the line was busy. Who were you talking to? I wanted to be the first,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, my cousins, you know in the US? I have my aunt there, no?’

  Her voice sounded overtly casual. Aarti forgot I had known her for eight years. I could sense it when she lied.

  ‘They spoke long-distance for an hour?’

  ‘What one hour? I spoke to them for two minutes. Maybe I didn’t place the phone back properly. Leave it, no. How are you? Wish you were here.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yeah. Of course! I miss you,’ Aarti said, her tone so genuine that it was hard to believe she had lied to me ten seconds ago.

  ‘If you had placed the phone incorrectly, who placed it back correctly now?’

  ‘Gopal! Stop interrogating me. I hate this. It is my birthday.’

  ‘And you lie on your birthday?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Swear on our friendship that Raghav didn’t call?’ I said.

  ‘What?’ Aarti said, her voice loud. ‘Swear? How old are we, ten?’

  ‘He called, no? You were speaking to him. What’s going on between you guys?’

  ‘It’s my birthday. Can you not make it so stressful?’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘It’s late. Dad is hovering around. Chat tomorrow on the net? After my college?’

  ‘I have classes,’ I said.

  ‘Sunday. Let’s chat on Sunday, around noon, okay?’

  ‘Aarti, just be honest with me. I value honesty a lot,’ I said.

  ‘Of course. Okay, bye now. Dad’s giving me dirty looks. Honestly!’

  ‘Bye,’ I said.

  I walked back, trying not to cry.

  Wait till Sunday, I consoled myself.

  She never came online on Sunday. I spent two hours at the cyber café. Noon became one, and one became two. There’s only so much porn one can watch. I downloaded enough x-rated clips to open a video library. I couldn’t bear it anymore.

  How hard was it to deliver on a simple promise? I had done nothing but wait for Sunday to talk things out with her. She had suggested the time, not I. I wanted to vent my anger, but had no outlet.

  I kicked the CPU of the computer in frustration. The power went off.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The owner of the cyber café came running.

  ‘Sorry, I have a temper problem. I am working on it,’ I said and rushed out.

  I went to the STD booth. I called her home. Her mother picked up.

  ‘Good afternoon, aunty. Gopal here.’

  ‘Hello, Gopal,’ Aarti’s mother said curtly. Her husband might be the DM, but she had more attitude than him.

  ‘Aunty, is Aarti around?’

  ‘She left early morning with Raghav for Kanpur.’

  ‘Kanpur?’ I said, shocked. She had gone three hundred kilometres away from Varanasi with Raghav.

  ‘Yes, some festival at IIT Kanpur. Raghav is in the debating team. She’s also participating. Singing, I think.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, wondering what question to ask next to get more information.

  ‘Anything important?’ Aarti’s mother said.

  Hell, it is important, aunty. I want to know if your daughter is having a scene.

  ‘Nothing urgent. They’ll come back tonight, right? The roads are not safe,’ I said.

  ‘Of course. She’s gone in the government car. With a security guard.’

  I wanted to post my own security guards next to Aarti.

  ‘Thanks, Aunty,’ I said.

  ‘Okay. You study. Then you can also be in a proper college and have fun like Raghav.’

  ‘Yes, Aunty,’ I said, reaffirming my commitment to join a proper college before I hung up.

  I checked my wallet. I had only hundred bucks left of my self-assigned monthly allowance of a thousand bucks. The month of November still had ten days left. I scolded myself for spending too much on calls.

  One moment I told myself not to chase her. Let her call or mail back. However, the next moment I could think of nothing but her. I had crazy mental conversations with myself.

  She couldn’t be dating him. She said she is not ready for a relationship. If she is, she will go out with me, Mr Optimist Gopal said.

  However, Mr Pessimist Gopal did not buy it.

  Okay, so Raghav has better looks. But Aarti is not so shallow. I have known her for a decade, Mr Optimist-me argued.

  Raghav also has better future prospects, Mr Pessimist-me said.

  But would she choose a guy just on the basis of his JEE rank? She is a girl, not a damn institute, said Mr Optimist-me.

  She finds him funny, Mr Pessimist said.

  She will even find jokers in the circus funny, Mr Optimist said.

  My head hurt as the two morons inside would not stop arguing. Girls have no idea what effect their wavering has on boys. I had to talk to Aarti. I wanted to shake her and make her talk.

  My temper flared again. I wanted to run to the Kota station and travel unreserved to Varanasi. I couldn’t thi