LOVES POWER part 3 page 3 - Page 2

Part-2

You OK?' I said going up to my just friend. She remained in her seat as her

tears re-emerged. The last lecture had ended and the classroom was empty.

I hadn't spoken much to Geet after our lunch last week. Pretty girls behave

best when you ignore them. (Of course, they have to know you are ignoring them,

for otherwise they may not even know you exist.)

But today I had to talk to her. She had cried in the class. We had auditoriumstyle

classrooms with semi-circular rows, so everyone could see everyone.

Students sat in alphabetical order. Geet, sat in the 7 row on the left side. She sat between Ankur and Aditya, both IITians who had already proposed to her without

considering the embarrassment of being rejected and then sitting next to the

rejection for the whole year.

I sat in the third row, between Kanyashree, who took notes like a diligent court

transcripter, and five Mohits, who had come from different parts of India. But

neither Ankur, nor Kanyashree, nor the five Mohits had noticed Geet's tears.

Only I had caught her wiping her eye with a yellow dupatta that had little bells at

its ends that tinkled whenever she moved.

In the past week, I had limited my communication with Geet to cursory

greetings every morning and a casual wave at the end of the day. During classes

we had to pay attention to the teachers we had marks for class participation saying something that sounds intelligent. Most IITians never spoke while people

from non-science backgrounds spoke non-stop.

Twenty-three minutes into the microeconomics class, the professor drew an L shaped utility curve on the blackboard. He admired his curve for ten seconds and

then turned to the class.

How many economics graduates here?' asked Prof Chatterjee, a two-decade

IIMA veteran.

Fifteen students out of the seventy students in section A raised their hands,

Geet included.

Chatterjee turned to her. You recognise the curve, Ms Swaminathan?' He read

her name from the nameplate in front.

The basic marginal utility curve, sir,' Geet said.

So, Ms Swaminathan, how would you represent that curve mathematically?'

Geet stood up, her eyes explaining clearly that she had no clue. The

remaining fourteen economics graduates lowered their hands.

Yes, Ms Swaminathan?' Chatterjee said.

Geet clutched the trinkets on her dupatta so they didn't make a noise as

she spoke. Sir, that curve shows different bundles of goods between which a

consumer is indifferent. That is, at each point on the curve, the consumer has equal preference for one bundle over another.'

That's not my question. What is the mathematical formula?'

I don't know that. In any case, this is only a concept.'

But do you know it?'

No. but I can't think of any real life situation where a mathematical formula like

this would work,' Geet said.

Prof raised his hand to interrupt her. Shsh...' He gave a sinister smile.

Notice, class, notice. This is the state of economics education in our country.

Top graduates don't know the basics. And then they ask - why is India

economically backward?'

Prof emphatically dropped the chalk on his table to conclude his point. He hadsolved what had dumbfounded policymakers for decades. Geet Swaminathan

was the reason for India's backwardness.

Geet hung her head in shame. A few IITians brightened up. Microeconomics

was an elective course in IIT and those who had done it knew the formula. They

were itching to show off.

Anyone knows?' Prof asked and Ankur raised his hand.

Yes, tell us. Ms Swaminathan, you should talk to your neighbours more. And

next time, don't raise your hand if I ask for microeconomics graduates.' Prof said.

He went to the board to write lots of Greek symbols and calculus equations.

The course started with cute little things like how many people choose between

tea and biscuits. It had moved on to scary equations that would dominate exams.

The class took mad notes. Kanyashree wrote so hard I could feel the seismic

vibrations from her pen's nib.

I stole a glance at Geet. As a smug Ankur saw his words inscribed on the

board, Geet's left hand's fingers scrunched up her yellow dupatta. She moved

her left hand to her face even as she continued to write with her right. In subtle

movements, she dabbed at her tears. Maybe Ms Best Girl had a heart, I thought.

And maybe I should cut out my studied ignorance strategy and talk to her after

class.

You OK?' I said again.

She nodded while continuing to wipe her tears. She fixed her gaze down.

I miss Topaz,' I said to change the topic.

I've never been so humiliated,' she said.

Nobody cares. All professors are assholes. That's the universal truth,' I offered. At least where I come from.'

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,' Geet

advised.

awesome part
my bio chem teacher is also like this arghhh always behind us

grhh.. this update remained me of my zoology teacher how much i hate her ... she was like that only... i was the happiest person when she left on leave for year... ok my personal life apart... this update was mindblowing...
i loved it...
i would die to have a teacher like maan *wink*
i would love to see love blossoming between tham
awesome update...
well written
do update soon

part 1
nice...
they are so different...

part 2
nice...
my God Geet is so different in this...

awesome prologue dear, love to read more and 2 states is my favorite novel. Wishing to see maneet in this. Hope you continue soon. (Jyothi GCian from FB)

Part 3

I 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,Geet'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. Geet nodded.

Geet'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 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,' Geet 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,' Geet 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.

Seri, seri, seri Amma...Seri!' she said, each seri increasing in pitch, volume and

frustration. She had called home. Many students had lined up to make cheap calls

at the STD booth, a five-minute walk from campus. Most carried their

microeconomics notes. I helped Geet with small change after her call.

Is he dating her?' I overheard a student whisper to another.

I don't think so, she treats him like a brother,' his friend guffawed.

I ignored the comment and went into the booth.

Every girl wants an IIT brother, big help in quant subjects,' the first student

said as several people around them laughed.

I controlled my urge to snap back at them and dialed home.

Hello?' my father's voice came after four rings.

I kept silent. The meter started to click.

Hello? Hello?' my father continued to speak.

I kept the phone down. The printer churned out the bill.

Missed connection, you have to pay,' the shopkeeper said.

I nodded and dialed again. This time my mother picked up.

Mom,' I screamed. I told you to be near the phone after ten.'

I'm sorry. I was in the kitchen. He wanted to talk to you, so he picked up. Say

hello to him first and then ask him for me.'

I'm not interested.'

OK, leave that. How are you doing? How is the place?'

It's fine. But they make you cram even more than in the previous college.'

How is the food?'

Terrible. I am in a hostel. What do you expect?'

I'm going to send some pickle.'

The city has good restaurants.'

They have chicken?' she asked, her voice worried as if she had asked about

basic amenities like power and water.

In a few places.'

FMS was good enough. I don't know why you had to leave Delhi.'

Mom, I am not going to make my career choices based on the availability of

chicken,' I said and looked at the meter. I had spent eighteen bucks. "I'll hang up

now.'

Tell me something more no. did you make any friends?'

Not really, sort of...' I looked at Geet's face outside the booth. She looked

at me and smiled.

Who? What's their name?'

g ' ganesh

Punjabi?'

Mom!'

I'm sorry. I just thought you could have a friend who likes the same food. Its

OK. We are very modern. Don't you know?'

Yeah right. I'll catch you later. I have a test tomorrow.'

Oh, really? Pray before the exam, OK?'

Sure, let me finish studying first.'

I hung up and paid twenty-five bucks.

Why did you hang up the first time? Your dad picked, right?' Geet asked as

we walked back.

I stopped in my tracks. How do you know?'

I guessed. I do it with mom when I'm angry with her. We don't hang up; we

just stay on the line and keep silent.'

And pay?'

Yes. Pretty expensive way to let each other know we are upset. Only

sometimes though.'

I never speak to my father,' I said.

Why?' Geet looked at me.

Long story. Not for tonight. Or any night. I'd like to keep it to myself.'

Sure,' she said.

We walked for a moment in silence before she spoke again. So your parents

have big expectations from you? Which job are you going to take? Finance?

Marketing? IT?'

Neither of those,' I said. Though i will take up a job for the money first.'

So what do you want to be? Like really?' She looked right into my eyes.

I couldn't lie. I want to be a writer?' I said.

I expected her to flip out and laugh. But she didn't. She nodded and continued

to walk. What kind of writer?' she said.

Someone who tells stories that are fun but bring about change too. The pen's

mightier than the sword, one of the first proverbs we learnt, isn't it?'

She nodded.

Sounds ridiculous?'

No, not really,' she said.

How about you? What do you want to be?'

She laughed. Well, I don't know. My mother already feels I'm too ambitious

and independent. So I am trying not to think too far. As of now, I just want to do

OK in my quiz and make my mother happy. Both are incredibly difficult though,'

she said.

We reached her room and practiced numerical for the next two hours.

I am so glad you are here. I'd never be able to crack these,' she said after I

solved a tricky one for her.

You are not using me, are you?'

Excuse me?'

Like you are friends with me because I am from IIT? So I can help you with the

quant subjects.'

Are you kidding me?' she looked shocked.

I don't want to be the IIT brother,' I said.

What? Whatever that is, you are not. We are friends, right?'

She extended her hand. I looked into her eyes. No, those eyes couldn't use

anyone.

Good night,' I said and shook her hand.

Hey, Maan' she said as I turned to leave.

What?'

The stuff you said, about being a writer who brings about change. It is really

cool. I mean it,' she said.

I smiled.

Good night,' she said and shut her door. A few sleepless girls wandered in the

dorm with their notes. They gave me suspicious looks.

I only came to study,' I said and walked out of the dorm fast. I don't know why I

felt the need to give an explanation

awesome update... glad u have continued it...
geet my god what a character is she..? and maan writer seriously?
i m looking forward for this story do continue soon...

part 3
nice...
Maan is so stubborn...
why is doesnt talk with his dad?
cont soon...