Locked in Doubt: Chapter 5
5
March 28, 2023 (33 days back)
Progress University
33 days back…
“Are you sure we’ll be okay?” asked Sanath, fidgeting with his hands as the two passed the security check to proceed towards the Diamond Hall, a 1000-capacity hall in their college where most of the important functions took place.
“Definitely,” said Deep, sounding much calmer than he had the night before. He wore a bright blue suit, and for a change, had combed his hair back. “All you have to do is smile and take me up with you when your name is called. Without tattling on me.”
Sanath laughed in spite of himself. “Of course I’m not going to tattle. When there are so many things that could go wrong, do I really need to add to that list?”
“That’s the spirit, my boy!”
“Excuse me, things are still getting ready,” said a short, curly haired boy outside the entrance to the hall. Sanath presumed he was a first-year student. “So kindly wait outside.”
“Hey, this is our function!” said Deep, trying to add an air of snobbishness to himself, but giggling instead.
“Be nice, Deep,” said Sanath, shaking his head.
“No, no, it’s all right,” interjected the junior earnestly. “I was just programmed to say this to everyone else. You can enter.”
Sanath gave a low whistle as they were granted access. “Now there’s someone who’s had a good lesson on hospitality.”
“See Sanath, it’s all about confidence,” said Deep. “Wipe away your sweat, flash your winning smile and we’ll pull this off. And let me tell you, -,”
Sanath and Deep stopped dead in their tracks when they absorbed the sight before them.
“It’s…it’s beautiful,” said Deep.
The Diamond Hall looked cleaner than it ever had. Bright yellow lights which looked like orbs hung from every panel on the ceiling. The walls were adorned with glittering posters bearing the college’s name and balloons were tied to virtually any semi-stable structure.
Sanath noted the arrangement of chairs. Unlike the award functions of the yester-years, the chairs were grouped into sets of round tables. Rich maroon-coloured tablecloths covered the first eight rows of tables, each of these rows having 5 round tables. The ninth row, the one farthest from the stage had just one table, and it was decorated with a golden velvet cloth, with the letters ‘CHAMPIONS’ inscribed on it.
“This is definitely a big step-up for the organizers,” said Sanath, still looking starry-eyed. “There was hardly anything worth noticing when I was a volunteer.”
“That’s evolution for you!” said Deep. “Now let’s go sit at the table for champions, shall we?”
Deep held Sanath’s hand and tried to walk with grace. But Sanath’s resistance spoilt his second attempt at looking cool that morning.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked, turning back to look at his friend, who was now gazing at the stage. Deep followed Sanath’s gaze and realized that there was a projector which was displaying the names and photographs of the winners. And at the top of the screen, he saw his own face as well as Sanath’s.
“So Jug managed to convince Arora?” asked Sanath, feeling a little more at peace now.
Deep scratched his head, rendering his combing useless. “That’s funny,” he said. “He told me this morning that he didn’t want to get involved in anything fishy. So I decided I would just improvise my way through this entire affair. Maybe his conscience got the better of him and he spoke to Arora later.”
“That doesn’t sound like Jug,” said Sanath, frowning. “He always sticks to his word.”
“Well, maybe it’s divine intervention then! Either way, there’s nothing to worry about now. Come on Sanath, my legs are aching! Let’s sit with the champions,” said Deep, as people began to pour in.
“Fine. But I can’t believe that you were actually going to improvise!”
Deep chose to remain silent.
*****
“Today marks a truly momentous occasion in the history of this institution,” said Dr. G. R. Pillai, the chief guest for the function. He was a network security specialist and the founder of GRP Networking Solutions, a ten-year-old company which had turned out to be a highly profitable venture.
“We have witnessed three individuals, or rather, four, bringing out innovations which every single person in this country can be proud of,” he continued. This line was greeted with loud claps from everyone who was fully awake at that moment. Sanath did not fall under this category. Deep had his eyes open, but that was just about all the evidence an observer had to conclude that he was alive.
“Dude,” whispered Deep, nudging Sanath to wake him up. “What’s Arora doing in that room near the stage?”
Sanath arose just on the verge of drooling on Kuldeep’s (the runner-up’s) elbow. He looked at the place Deep was pointing at, and he could spot his professor near the room’s opening holding a tray and barking instructions to a first-year student.
“Oh,” said Sanath, shaking his head in nonchalance, while Kuldeep and Geetha shot the duo dirty looks. “Looks like he’s in charge of serving drinks again. That’s the room where the drinks are made.”
“Great!” said Deep, giving him a thumbs up, as Arora and four junior students emerged from the room with trays, each containing 33 cups. “I’m famished. Mr. Counter, could you please count how many people are in front of us? So I can estimate when we’ll receive our drinks?”
“One hundred and sixty,” replied Sanath immediately with a smile, as the people seated in the first row received their drinks. “And if they follow the same ‘clockwise’ pattern of distribution, we will get the last two cups from that boy’s tray,” he continued, pointing at a tall boy wearing a grey sweatshirt.
Kuldeep sighed, the first sound he had made thus far. “Why are we seated in the back row? Isn’t this function supposed to be for us?”
“Hunger and thirst, uniting people forever,” thought an amused Sanath.
Sanath replied, “Wait till his speech is done. He’ll call out our names and everyone will turn towards us. Believe me, it’s the most annoying experience. You’ll want to scream ‘HAS NOBODY SEEN HUMANS BEFORE?’ but then you’ll remember that you have to smile.”
Kuldeep smirked. “Spoken like a true bigshot.”
Geetha spoke too, “And Sanath, looks like your calculations might go wrong. There’s some big guy in the front who’s trying to get another cup,” as Deep groaned at the sound of these words.
“Just who the heck is that,” said Sanath, craning his short neck to look at the offender. He began to laugh.
“Oh, that’s my friend Jagan,” he said, as Jagan exchanged his drink after arguing with the boy in the sweatshirt. “He’s a quality assurance person. Arora had probably forgotten to add a spoonful of sugar to that cup.”
“Oh, I see,” said Geetha. “But he’s a good type otherwise?”
“Oh, he’s fabulous. He deserves to be at this table. He actually does projects for all the reasons Dr. G. R. Pillai is stating right now — national pride and all that. But you know Arora — he’s fussier than Jagan at times.”
Geetha scowled. “Professor Arora’s my favourite professor,” she said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” mocked Sanath. “I forgot how simple the life of a non-prodigy is — Work hard, teacher likes you, you like him back.”
Deep patted Sanath’s lap. “Forgive us, Geetha,” he said. “He’s just a little miffed at something Arora said to him. He’s not always like this.”
“Well, you seem to be highly temperamental,” said Geetha, still scowling at Sanath. “Just don’t embarrass us on stage, okay?”
“Fine,” said Sanath, folding his arms. “And I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re still wondering who put my name there, and you’re worried about being doubted for your integrity,” whispered Deep. “That’s why you’re beginning to babble and squabble a bit. But the first law I follow in pulling off a successful trick is: Talking does make you look normal, but needless speech could mean curtains for our plan.”
“Fine,” whispered back Sanath, feeling a little ashamed. He hadn’t been politically correct when he’d used the phrase ‘national pride and all that’, and Geetha and Kuldeep were now looking at him as if he was a kind of germ. “You’re right. Besides, Jug’s here. We can ask him whether we spoke to Arora. If we can get through this function alive.”
“Which we will,” said Deep, smiling.
“Oh,” he spoke again, aloud this time. “Drinks are here.”
“Hey, and guess what,” said Sanath. “We’re still being served by the same boy,” as the boy in the grey sweatshirt looked up from his tray in confusion. “All that swapping in between hasn’t affected our position.”
“Good work, Sherlock,” said Deep taking a sip of his drink.
“Is he always this weird, if not obnoxious?” enquired Geetha, giving Sanath a smug, challenging look. Sanath avoided meeting her eyes and lifted his cup towards his mouth. And just as he was about to have his first sip, he gasped and recoiled. “It’s opaque!” he said.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Geetha.
“See, Sanath?” said Deep. “This is what you’ll get from people if you don’t try to change. Just give it a shot! It’s grape juice, after all.”
“I’ll try,” said Sanath, sounding weak.
“He’s not weird, just sleep-deprived,” explained Deep to Geetha, as Sanath brought the cup to his lips again. “And no, he’s not obnoxious either.”
“Not bad at all, this grape juice,” said Sanath suddenly, as he finished his juice in two large gulps.
Deep hooted and patted Sanath on the back. “Manisha would be proud! Well done, my boy! That’s lesson number one dusted.”
“Our next lesson would be to shut up,” hissed Kuldeep. “People are beginning to stare at us.”
“This is just the beginning, my friend,” said Sanath, still overjoyed at his first successful experiment with will power.
*****
Sanath figured that the chief guest’s speech was over, as he heard the heartiest round of applause that morning. “Brace yourselves,” he told his group of ‘ninth row’ students.
“Now,” said a beaming Dr. Pillai. “It is my pleasure to call upon the real stars of this show, the ones who have ensured that the baton for technical excellence has been passed on smoothly by our generation.
“I would request each of the winners to come forward and collect his cheque and trophy when his name is called. Or her,” he added with a laugh, when he saw Geetha in the last row.
And heads began turning as the audience got into a frenzy. “Go Sanath go!” came Jagan’s loud, deep voice.
“So, in order,” continued Dr. Pillai. “Sanath Raman and Deep Kiran! For what they would like to call — a multipurpose iris camera!”
Sanath and Deep rose from their chairs as Kuldeep and Geetha offered polite applause, and proceeded towards the stage. Some of the people they passed on the way shook their hands. Sanath was quite used to walking towards the stage through rows of admiring spectators, having received many academic awards during his days of schooling. But Deep was completely new to this. He had a hard time synchronizing his handshakes with his forward movement, and as a result, he had still not crossed the fifth row when Sanath reached the stage.
“I’m afraid there’s only one cheque and one trophy for the two of you,” said Dr. Pillai, looking at Sanath with a twinkle in his eye. “So you’ll have to wait for your friend to arrive.” The audience laughed, as Sanath just stood in waiting, his left hand resting against his hip.
“Ah! Here he is,” said Dr. Pillai, as Deep rushed through the last few rows and got on top of the stage with one neat jump. He never bothered himself with climbing steps.
“Let’s pose for the cameras, shall we?” asked Dr. Pillai, still smiling, but his brow seemed to furrow in impatience every five seconds now.
“Yes, Sir,” said Deep.
And as the three of them posed with the trophy between them, Deep clutched Sanath’s hand and whispered, loudly enough for Dr. Pillai to hear, “We did it, Sanath!”
Sanath again felt a similar rush of anger, as the one he had felt the last night towards Deep. He didn’t understand why, but there was something about Deep’s behaviour that seemed to aggravate him at that moment.
“Now,” said the chief guest. “I have a little surprise for you. My company has one job vacancy this year.”
Deep clutched Sanath’s hand tighter. Sanath gave him a murderous stare in return.
“It is a multimedia-based profile,” said Dr. Pillai. “And I’ve been told by some of your professors, Sanath, that you have substantial experience in multimedia.”
Sanath looked back absent-mindedly at Dr. Pillai when he heard his name being called.
“Excuse me, Sir,” said Deep hurriedly, discreetly nudging his friend on the stage. “Sanath is currently on the lookout for… another type of job, so I was thinking, well, I have reasonable grounding in multimedia too -,”
“You do?” asked Sanath suddenly, his voice cold and heavy.
“Yes, Sanath, you funny guy,” said Deep, handing him the trophy he had been holding, as he stamped Sanath’s left foot gently. And he turned towards Dr. Pillai and began speaking about his non-existent multimedia projects.
And as Sanath looked sideways towards Deep as he spoke to the chief guest, he spotted evilness in his eyes. He tried to replay all the events that had unfolded that day, but couldn’t quite place his finger on most of them. But he was sure that Deep had dragged him into complications, making them both look highly unprofessional. He gritted his teeth when he saw how Deep was now trying to lie about himself and Sanath. Deep hadn’t told him how his name was added to the winners’ list, and he seemed to be hiding something he knew. At that moment, Sanath had an epiphany. “Deep is bad for me,” he thought. It was the first distinct thought he could register ever since he had come on the stage.
And hence, without wasting any more time, Sanath raised the trophy with his right hand, the pointed end facing outwards, and landed a blow on the face of his chattering friend.
End of flashback
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