Locked in Doubt: Chapter 4
4
March 26, 2023 (35 days back)
Progress University
35 days back…
Sanath shook his head with a smirk. He could count at least 76 students creating a mini-stampede outside the lecture hall. They were all present to catch a rare glimpse of the scenic wonder that was the notice board.
“It’s a crime,” said Sanath to himself. “To rank students based on their projects. And even more so, to award prizes to the top three.”
Sanath’s mind drifted back to his time as an award function volunteer. He was in his second year at that time, in charge of serving starters to the attendees.
The attendees comprised of the three winning students in suits, industry professionals and academics, the staff of the college and the headmaster. Junior students were called to help with the organizing, but many students were known to abscond at the most untimely of moments. Some of the faculty members were thus handed the responsibility of menial tasks. For the past three years, Professor Arora had been in charge of serving cool drinks.
“The whole atmosphere was just so… aristocratic,” thought Sanath, shuddering. “Some old men and women with accents, speaking things which nobody was mature enough to understand…”
Sanath thanked his stars that his project hadn’t been a hit with his professor. “At least I’m not a part of it this time,” he thought. “But oh, poor Jagan! I can’t imagine how bewildered he’s going to be!”
Just then, he heard a wild hoot from someone in the crowd. And within seconds, the atmosphere which had just managed to enter a state of unstable equilibrium lent itself to chaos once again. Students jumped out of the way to allow a burly six-footer to score a touchdown. And Sanath was the goalpost.
“Ow!” he yelped, as Jagan barely missed drilling his knuckles through Sanath’s intestine.
“You filthy liar!” said Jagan in an accusing tone, but with a wide smile.
“What do you mean?” asked Sanath, confused, but still prepared himself to accept the improbable.
“You’re first! You’re rich! You’re… why aren’t you jumping?”
“Wait, is this one of Deep’s… operations?” asked Sanath. And with good reason. Deep Kiran was one of his closest friends, who also happened to be the most compulsive prankster Sanath had ever seen.
“No! Look at the notice board. And Arora’s signature below. If there’s one trick Deep isn’t good at, it’s forgery.”
A sighing Sanath got up and became the seventy-seventh notice board watcher.
*****
Jagan was right. For a moment, Sanath’s disbelief, confusion and his distaste for awards gave way to pride. There was something about seeing his name in writing that made his heart leap. In a couple of days, Sanath would be receiving a trophy, a cash award and possibly a high-paying job offer from a prestigious guest.
Sanath’s gaze shifted to the second name on the list. It read — Kuldeep, a boy from another class whom Sanath knew by face, but not too well. Frowning, he read the third name — Geetha, the third ranker of his class.
“There’s got to be a mistake,” thought Sanath. Taking his phone out, he dialled Deep’s number.
“Well, if it isn’t the bigshot himself!” came a voice from the other end.
“Deep. How’s your roommate going to take this? He looked pretty happy for me, but… I don’t know.”
“Don’t fret, Sanath. Jug was a little upset the other day, the day he showed his project to Arora. He didn’t want to talk about what he had done, as Arora wasn’t too happy with his work. So I let it go, and he recovered.”
“Okay. Maybe the results make a little sense now. But Arora wasn’t happy with me either!”
“Show-off! Well, whatever the case, dinner’s on you tonight,” said Deep.
Sanath laughed. “Okay, Deep, just this once.”
*****
Sanath was greeted with a friendly nod by the doorman as he made his way into ‘Cuisine Mania’. It was a popular hotel situated just outside the college campus. Not one for pomp and show, Sanath appeared in his trademark dark brown collared t-shirt and light brown three-fourths, but with a much heavier wallet than usual. He figured he’d have to wait for at least thirty minutes for his three friends to appear. Jagan, Deep and Manisha weren’t the most punctual of invitees.
So Sanath just sat down on one of the waiting-chairs and gazed into nothingness. But then, he observed activity from the corner of his eye. He turned slightly and saw Jagan waving his arms madly. His friends had showed up earlier than him!
“Ah, the things people do for free food,” said Sanath with a smile. He walked towards Jagan who gave him a warm hug.
“Congrats Sanath!” said Manisha and Deep in unison, rising from their seats.
“Thank you so much, guys!” said Sanath, looking at each of them one by one. While Deep and Jagan had contrasting physiques, they looked strikingly similar — both had thick, unruly hair, unkempt beards and thick-rimmed spectacles. And Manisha…
“You look like Amelia Jane!” exclaimed Sanath, who was given a playful punch on the shoulder by Manisha.
“Yeah, now that he mentions it,” said Jagan.
“Please, guys, I just cut my hair. And it’s just a wee bit curly,” said Manisha.
“That’s not what they meant,” said Deep with a sly grin. “Amelia had red cheeks too.”
“Whoa, that’s enough jibes for a night,” said Sanath, before Manisha could respond. “How about we begin?” he asked, motioning towards the nearby table. He counted the number of forks and spoons on the table and realized that a spoon was missing.
“Um, Deep,” said Sanath.
Deep sighed, producing the missing spoon from his pants’ pocket. “Damn your counting habit,” he said.
Manisha cackled. “Your pranks are getting lamer with every passing day.”
“Challenge accepted, Mani,” said Deep, trying to purse his lips in rebellion, but failing.
“Were you trying to demonstrate the Dining Philosophers Problem?” asked Jagan, with an earnest look on his face. Manisha and Sanath, the ones who understood the question, burst out laughing.
“Sure,” said Manisha. “’Cause that’s the only kind of philosopher he ever will be!”
*****
“So Deep, what did you work on?” said Manisha, taking a bite out of a Mexican cheese sandwich.
“Let’s not spoil this beautiful meal,” said Deep, his face still buried in a bowl of noodles. Manisha refused to let it go.
“Are you telling me — you didn’t do a final year project?”
Deep’s face twisted in discomfort, but Jagan came to his rescue — “Chill, Mani. He’s a super-talented guy!”
“That doesn’t exempt him from getting a degree! Deep, you have two standing arrears already! Grow up, will you?”
Sanath’s head moved to and fro as he observed the heated exchange that ensued between Jagan and Manisha, while Deep tried hard to become invisible. He did not want to cut in, as he had never been adept at finding ‘the right thing to say’. But a few minutes into the argument, and Sanath realized that it was either his job to put an end to it, or the police’s.
He tapped the table. It did not get him tea, but it earned him a golden moment of silence. “Please, Manisha,” he said. “A time and place for everything, remember?”
Manisha sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Sorry, Deep.”
And like magic, the four friends were howling in laughter minutes later. Deep had cracked one of his newer jokes on celebrities. And while Sanath laughed, he marvelled yet again at how Manisha had tuned out so expertly. “That’s something I’ll have to learn from her,” he thought. “To forgive easily, even if I don’t forget.” He felt bad at having told Manisha off. He knew it was her nature to be concerned about her friend’s life. So concerned that she bordered on nagging.
*****
“How about a round of Coke, people?” asked Jagan, once the main course was done. He raised his hand, and Deep and Manisha followed suit. Sanath just shook his head with a shy smile.
Jagan sighed. “Still haven’t gotten over your fears, eh?”
“How is everyone so bold?” asked Sanath in an aggrieved tone. “Don’t they know that in an opaque liquid like Coke, there is every possibility of a lizard lurking in there? Waiting to give you a poisonous kiss once you’re done with half the glass?” Jagan chose to ignore the questions and proceeded to order 3 glasses of Coke.
“The answer, my friend,” began Deep, “is that normal people don’t bother themselves with big words like opacity.” The waiter had arrived by then with three glasses of the opaque liquid.
“He only said ‘opaque’, not ‘opacity’!” said Manisha. “I was right, Deep, you’ve just been playing stupid all along!” as Deep cupped his hands over his mouth in mock horror.
“But seriously, Sanath,” said Manisha, as she sipped her Coke. “You’ve got to consult someone for this issue of yours.”
“Oh, give him a break, Manisha,” said Jagan. “So, he’s a little quirky. But aren’t we all?” Sanath smiled fondly at Jagan. The big guy always stood up for him even during the times Sanath questioned his own sanity. He also knew that he and Jagan shared a particular quirk — an obsession with counting. While Manisha and Deep rolled their eyes whenever the duo counted the tiles on the floor, or the panels on the ceiling, Sanath and Jagan felt a warm sense of brotherhood with this shared habit.
Manisha just scowled at Jagan, and then at Sanath.
“But they’ll give me medicines!” said Sanath.
“And they’d be right to do so!” said Manisha.
“I’ve always wanted to be resilient. Independent. I can’t let pills dictate how I behave!”
“That’s the common viewpoint of most mentally ill — okay, okay — psychiatric subjects. But meds are necessary,” said Manisha, keeping her glass down. “Besides, you still have to be resilient. Medicines don’t work alone, you’ve got to work with them.”
Sanath remained silent, hoping Manisha would stop.
“Just… think about it, okay?” she said, as she rummaged her backpack for something. Sanath simply nodded.
“What’s that?” said Sanath suddenly, as Manisha produced a glass tube from her bag. “Some kind of inhaler?”
“Hey, not too bad a guess, Mr. Innocent-Pants,” said Deep.
“That’s a cren pipe,” explained Jagan.
“What’s cren?”
“Oh, I’m sorry — Crenphetamine,” said Jagan, while Manisha laughed.
“Oh, that chemical-thingy,” said Sanath, now nodding vigorously. And then, his face took on an expression of shock and he looked unblinkingly at Manisha.
“You smoke?” he asked.
“Don’t embarrass her, Sanath,” said Jagan. “Everyone does. There’s nothing illegal about cren. It’s totally safe, and so worth it!”
“And it’s high time you tried it too,” said Manisha, offering Sanath her pipe with her arm outstretched.
“No, I don’t smoke,” said Sanath.
Manisha sighed. “Wrong. You haven’t smoked. Sanath, you’re 18. You’re smart and you’ll soon be rich. High-class. People in your circles will smoke the finest of the finest, and when you tell them you don’t know what cren is, they’re going to look at you as a phony who acts pure. Even if you really are pure. Come on, just a couple of breaths.”
Sanath closed his eyes, thinking hard for a couple of minutes before saying, “Manisha, only because you’ve taught me a lot, I’ll listen to your social advice one more time.” He accepted the pipe and after taking a moment to understand its mechanism, he inhaled.
“Hmm… pretty good,” said Sanath, breathing it in a few more times. A few minutes later, he felt great about himself — confident and spirited, ready to take on any challenge life threw at him.
“Now give me back my pipe, Mr. Cren Addict,” said Manisha. Sanath gave a wide toothy grin and handed back the pipe to her.
*****
“I really didn’t like the food,” said Jagan, as they walked back to reach their respective hostels.
“You’re just fussy, Jug,” said Deep.
“I’d prefer to call myself a reliable quality assurance person.”
Sanath laughed. “And Arora says I use euphemisms,” he said.
“He did?” asked Jagan. “Sanath, you couldn’t market yourself even if you were a hundred rupee note during the 2016 Demonetization.”
“Okay, guys,” cut in Manisha. “My hostel’s that way, so I’ll be turning right. Thanks a lot for the dinner, Sanath!”
“So Mani, are you coming to attend Sanath’s award function the day after tomorrow?” asked Jagan.
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Sanath, with a wave of his hand. “I wouldn’t want you to go through such abject boredom for me.”
“Well, I, for one, am coming for sure,” said Jagan, as Manisha turned right with haste and headed towards her hostel.
“Really?” asked Sanath softly, shooting Deep a confused look.
“Of course, Sanath. You’re my best friend.”
Sanath nodded with a warm smile.
“Thank you, Jug. This means a lot to me.”
And the three boys walked on with a comfortable kind of silence between them. They passed by the closed tuck shops, their department’s building, the sports ground, and a good stretch of deserted land. Their campus sometimes smelled, but that was what made Sanath consider it home.
“I’ll miss this place,” thought Sanath. Life hadn’t been easy for him during his early days in college, with all his social awkwardness and the rumours going around about his brilliance.
But he stuck around, bid his time, and eventually made a few friends. Manisha had been around to illuminate his mind in a way books couldn’t. She introduced him to Deep, the joker of the university. Deep was always willing to start a conversation with anyone, as long as the person wasn’t ‘unbearable’ over a point. And Sanath met this criterion quite easily.
Sanath began frequenting Deep’s hostel room, where the two discussed anything which interested at least one of them. It was often a monologue, as Deep was the one with the fun stories, but Sanath was quite happy to listen. Every now and then, though, he would tentatively glance leftwards towards Deep’s roommate. He was a boy who always had his nose in a book and looked large enough to crush Sanath to pulp if he was ever disturbed.
And one day, when Deep got a little too loud, his roommate slapped his book against his lap and shouted, “Deep, have you ever thought about what you’re doing with your life?” Sanath observed that it wasn’t a dangerous voice by any means, an indignant one rather.
“Don’t need to, Jug,” replied Deep cheerfully. “’Cause I’m hanging out with only the smartest dude on the planet!”
“You mean this dwarf right here?” said Jagan, pointing at Sanath, now sounding friendlier.
“You two should have a little chat,” said Deep as he exited his room. “You’ll be surprised at the amount of combined knowledge you have.”
And hence began a conversation which was enough not just to break the ice, but also the Guinness Record for the most intellectually stimulating talk. Manisha had led Sanath to Deep, who in turn had led him to Jagan. Jagan, on the other hand, led him to a new, confident Sanath — one who realized that being a geek could also be cool.
*****
After several minutes and countless cren-addiction jokes made by Jagan and Deep at the expense of Crenphetamine’s newest customer, they reached Hostel X.
Jagan yawned and said, “This has been one long walk. I’m going to hit the bed immediately,” and lumbered his way into the building, as the security guard shot him a dirty look for returning late.
“See you tomorrow, Jug,” said Sanath, also yawning, hoping that he could teleport himself to his hostel, Hostel Z.
He was tickled by a chill breeze as he carried on, thinking about how he could borrow a tux for the next morning’s ceremony. And as he turned left, his eyes shot wide open when he realized that Deep was still behind him, his feet moving in an uncertain manner.
“Um…Deep?” prodded Sanath, not knowing why he had a premonition of something bad happening. “Don’t you live in Hostel X?”
“I do, Sanath,” said Deep, looking keenly into his eyes, now displaying a sense of urgency. “But I need to speak with you about something.”
“Sure. Shoot!”
Deep closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, here it goes,” he said. “Sanath, as you know, I haven’t done a final year project, partly due to external reasons, and partly because of my own irresponsibility.”
“Yes,” replied Sanath, still perplexed.
“So chances of me getting a degree or a job are next to impossible,” continued Deep. “But I vow, on any star you please, that I will redeem myself if I find a way out of this rut.”
“I believe in you, Deep,” said Sanath in a solemn voice. “Of course you will redeem yourself. Let me know if I can help you out in any way.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” said Deep, his face pale as the moon above. “Will you be okay if I could be labelled as your partner for this project?”
“Which means you will also receive -,”
“Exactly,” finished Deep. “If you could give me at least 75 percent of the prize money you get for the project, I’ll have enough to survive for a few months after college, which will at least give me some time to find an alternate living. And even better, just in case I get lucky… the industry experts at the award function might offer me a job.”
Sanath felt a sudden rush of anger. Deep had always been a bit of a maverick, but Sanath had never known him to be dishonest or overly-dependent on anyone. He wanted to give Deep a brutally honest assessment of the idea he had just heard, but one more glance at his friend’s desperate face calmed him down.
“Deep,” said Sanath softly, placing his arm on his left shoulder. “As much as I am willing to offer any amount of financial support, don’t you feel this plan is a little too… infeasible? Arora has been told that it was me who did the project alone, the entire college knows it too because it was on the notice board, and besides, this idea seems very wrong.”
“I can get Jug to speak to Arora about this,” said Deep, now speaking at a rapid pace. “He can persuade Arora to modify the records with my name.”
“But it’s still wrong!”
“You’re helping a friend! Look, Sanath, you’ve given three reasons as to why you’re apprehensive to do this. But none of these reasons actually involve you being reluctant. They’re all either of the type ‘What will society think’, or the type ‘Will I get into trouble’.”
Sanath scowled. Deep was doing a very good job at playing with words to confuse him even more.
“You’re a genius” continued Deep. “And I’m not. Your entire education has been funded by numerous scholarships. And mine hasn’t. You can’t argue with that.”
Sanath itched to retaliate (“That’s why you should have studied!”) but Deep had already covered the redemption part of his argument.
So for the second time that day, Sanath found himself saying, “Okay, Deep, just this once.”
Click here for Chapter 5
