My marriage in two states

3

‘You want to see my economics degree? I’ll show you my grades.’

‘No,’ I said.

‘I came third in the entire Delhi University. These wannabe engineer profs have

turned economics from perfectly fine liberal arts subject to this Greek symbol

junkyard,’ she said as she pointed to the formulae on the board.

I kept silent.

‘You are from IIT. You probably love these equations,’ she said and looked up

at me. Despite her tears, she still looked pretty.

I looked at the blackboard. Yes, I did have a fondness for algebra. It’s nothing

to be ashamed of. Yet, this wasn’t the time. ‘No, I am not a big fan. Greek symbols

do take the fun out of any subject.’

‘Exactly, but these profs don’t think so. They will have these equations in the

test next week. I am going to flunk. And he is going to turn me into this specimen

of the educated but clueless Indian student. I bet I am the staff-room discussion

right now.’

‘They are all frustrated,’ I said. ‘we are half their age but will earn twice as them

in two years. Wouldn’t you hate an eleven-year-old if he earned double?’

She smiled.

‘You need to hang that dupatta out to dry,’ I said. She smiled some more.

We walked out of the class. We decided to skip lunch and have tea and

omelette at the roadside Rambhai outside campus.

‘He is going to screw me in microeconomics. He’s probably circled my name and

put a D in front of it already,’ she said, nestling the hot glass of tea in her dupatta

folds for insulation.

‘Don’t freak out. Listen, you can study with me. I don’t like these equations,

but I am good at them. That’s all we did at IIT for four years.’

She looked at me for a few seconds.

‘Hey, I have no interest in being number eleven. This is purely for study

reasons.’

She laughed. ‘Actually, the score is thirteen now.’

‘IITians?’

‘No, this time form NIT. They are catching up.’

‘I know, we are losing our edge. Whatever, I don’t want to be number fourteen.

I thought I could teach you…..

She interrupted me, ‘I can’t learn economics from you. I am a university topper

in economics. You are an engineer.’

‘Then good luck,’ I said and stood up to pay.

‘I didn’t say that. I said you can’t teach me. But we can study together.’

I looked at her. She looked nice, and I couldn’t blame the thirteen guys for

trying.

‘My room at eight? Ever been to the girl’s dorm?’

‘There is a first time for everything,’ I said.

‘Cool, carry lots of books to make it clear what you are there for,’ Ananya

advised.

reached the girl’s dorm at 8 p.m. I carried the week’s case materials, the size of

six telephone directories. I knocked at her door.

‘One second, I am changing,’ her muffled scream came from inside.

After three hundred seconds, she opened the door. She wore a red and white

tracksuit. ‘Sorry,’ she said as she tied up her hair in a bun. ‘Come in. We’d better

start, there is so much to do.’

She gave me her study chair and sat on her bed. The rust-coloured bed-sheet

matched the exposed brick walls. She had made a notice board out of chart paper

and stuck family pictures all over.

‘See, that’s my family. That’s my dad. He is so cute,’ she said.

I looked carefully. A middle-aged man with neatly combed hair rationed his

grin. He wore a half-sleeve shirt with a dhoti in most of the pictures. He looked

like the neighbor who stops you from playing loud music. No, nothing cute about

him. I scanned the remaining pictures taken on festivals, weddings and birthdays.

In one, Ananya’s whole family stood to attention at the beach. You could almost

hear the national anthem.

‘That’s Marina Beach in Chennai. Do you know it is the second largest city

beach in the world?’

I saw her brother, around fourteen years of age. The oiled hair, geeky face and

spectacles made him look like an IITian embryo. His lack of interest in the world

expression told me he would make it.

‘And that’s mom?’ I quizzed. Ananya nodded.

Ananya’s brother and father still seemed mild compared to her mother. Even in

pictures she had a glum expression that made you wonder what did you do

wrong. She reminded me of the strictest teachers I ever had in school. I

immediately l felt guilty about being in her daughter’s room. My hands tingled as I

almost expected her to jump out of the picture and slap me with a ruler.

‘Mom and I,’ Ananya said as she kneeled on the bed and sighed.

‘What?’ I looked at a wedding picture of her relatives. Given the dusky

complexion, everyone’s teeth shone extra white. All old women wore as much

gold as their bodies could carry and silk saris shiny as road reflectors.

‘Nothing, I wish I got along better with her,’ Ananya said. ‘Hey, you have

pictures of your family?’

I shook my head. My family was too disorganized to ever pause and pose at

the right moment. I don’t think we even had a camera.

‘Who is there in your family?’ She sifted through the case materials to take out

the economics notes.

‘Mom, dad and me. That’s it,’ I said.

‘Tell me more. What do they do? Who are you close to?’

‘We met to study,’ I pointed out and pated the microeconomics booklet.

“Of course, we will. I only asked to make conversation. Don’t tell me if you

don’t want to,’ she said and batted her eyelids. How can such scary looking parents

create something so cute?

‘OK, I’ll answer. But after that, we study. No gossip for an hour,’ I warned.

‘Sure, I already have my book open,’ she said and sat on the bed cross-legged.

‘OK, my mother is a housewife. I am close to her, but not hugely close. That

reminds me, I have to call her. I’ll go to the STD booth later.’

‘And dad? I am super close to mine.’

‘Let’s study,’ I said and opened the books.

‘You aren’t close to your father?’

‘You want to flunk?’

‘Shsh,’ she agreed and covered her lips with a finger. We studied for the next

two hours in silence. She would look up sometimes and do pointless things like

changing her pillow cover or re-adjusting her study lamp. I ignored all that. I had

wasted enough of my initial years at IIT. Most likely due to a CAT computation

error, I had another chance at IIMA. I wanted to make it count.

‘Wow, you can really concentrate,’ she said after an hour. ‘it’s ten. STD calls

are cheap now.’

Oh yes, I better go,’ I said.

‘I’ll come with you. I’ll call home too,’ she said and skipped off the bed to wear

her slippers.