right there, one on one. And if they do well enough, I ask them to come to my discussion group. Most refuse. Daru didn’t.
ZM : Discussion group?
JS : Yes. On alternate Tuesdays. From noon until two. Lunch included.
ZM : What do you discuss?
JS : Anything. Economics, development, politics, literature. Someone presents a paper and the rest of us tear it apart.
ZM : Sounds fun.
JS : It is. I soon realized Daru had potential, so I encouraged him to pursue a Ph.D. Which he did, for a while.
ZM : How long?
JS : I met him when he began his master’s. So that wouldhave been another … two years. Two years of dissertation work.
ZM : And what was the subject of his dissertation?
JS : Development. Microcredit, specifically. Small loans to low-income groups, guaranteed by the community. The Grameen Bank model and variations. Explaining low default rates, analyzing claims of paternalism, social critiques, that sort of thing.
ZM : What did you think?
JS : Daru? Brilliant. Though a bit of a seat-of-the-pants economist. Could have used more quant training. Liked to assert rather than prove. And not the best at handling criticism. Took methodological challenges very personally. But talented, definitely.
ZM : And his dissertation?
JS : Needed focus. But, to be fair, he was more into implementation than theory. Could have done some good work.
ZM : Why did he stop?
JS : Money, I think. His girlfriend had just left him for a textile baron’s son. He got a job offer from a bank, and he couldn’t resist. He told me it was impossible to make a living in academia or development. I told him he was wrong: students will pay good cash for exam questions, and multi-laterals certainly make some poor people (their employees) well off. He didn’t appreciate the humor. So I said he was too bright to work for a bank, which was true. And I askedhim about his commitment to being someone who acts rather than complains. He said he was acting for himself so he could stop complaining. And he left.
ZM : How did you feel?
JS : I was disappointed, naturally. But more, I was worried for him. I didn’t think he was choosing a path that would make him happy. It’s hard to stop thinking once you’ve started.
ZM : Did you remain in touch afterwards?
JS : No, unfortunately. Which is another bad sign. Most of the students I bring into my discussion group don’t just disappear. I suspect Daru was too dissatisfied with what he was doing to let himself look back. Actually, don’t quote me on that. How would I know? As a professor I have a tendency to slip into omniscient narrative.
ZM : How did you hear he had been arrested?
JS : The same way the rest of the city did, I suppose: everyone is talking about this case.
ZM : Why do you think that is? Why has it received so much attention?
JS : I’ve given quite a bit of thought to that question. It can be analyzed using a three-dimensional matrix. On the X axis, that is, the horizontal axis, is the accused. On the vertical axis, Y, is the crime. And on the Z axis, rising up off the page, is the defense. And this situation is clearly in the … I can see I’m losing you.
ZM : I’m afraid so.
JS : Well … let’s use a box instead of a matrix. The case is a box. In this situation, the accused is bright, well educated, and charismatic. An orphan. Extremely sympathetic. So the box is wide. The crime is violent and despicable: the needless killing of a boy. So the box is long. And the defense invokes a grand conspiracy, corruption, which is particularly resonant these days. So the box is tall.
ZM : Criminal, crime, and conspiracy. That’s why everyone is talking about it?
JS : One more thing: sex, which is purple. This box is covered with it. Painted. Smeared. Naturally, if there is a big purple box lying around, people will stare. That’s why everyone is talking about it.
ZM : And do you think he’s guilty?
JS : That, my dear, ah, Mr Manto, I just don’t know. From my experience,
Carole E. Barrowman, John Barrowman