The Hope Factory Read Online Free PDF Page B

a single bribe to anyone,” Kavika was saying. “All week, I haven’t been able to get a single thing done without somebody asking me for baksheesh! Crazy!” In the glow of the candles, her skin gleamed smooth, flushing occasionally as she laughed. As far as he could tell, she was wearing no makeup.
    “It
is
crazy—and the first step to changing things,” said Amir, climbing onto one of his favorite hobbyhorses, “is for people like us to stop paying bribes completely. Not the fiftyrupees to the lineman to get the electricity line fixed. Not the few hundreds to get a copy of our marriage certificate, let alone for bigger things …”
    “Now
that’s
a novel idea,” said Kavika and dodged the peanut Amir threw at her.
    “Seriously, Amir,” Anand said, “nice in theory. But come on, you know as well as I do that sometimes there is just no other way. Those buggers won’t do anything otherwise.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes in regret. He was going to get Amir’s “be part of the solution, not part of the problem” lecture.
    Sure enough.
    “Tell me,” Anand interrupted, after listening dutifully for a while. “Are you guys going to that music gig next week?”
    “Yes! You? … Excellent!” Amir was diverted.
    Anand’s eye eventually fell to his watch, and he scrambled up. He had already informed his hosts that he would be leaving early; Vidya was to stay behind and get a lift home with Kavika.
    “You don’t mind?” Anand asked. “It’s out of your way….”
    “I don’t mind at all,” Kavika said, cheerfully. He smiled back awkwardly. Vidya, he was aware, was frowning after him as he left the party.
    AT HOME, HE MADE straight for his little office on the ground floor, the room his wife referred to as “the study” and he referred to as “mine.” This was his territory. The one corner of the house he claimed as his own and valiantly defended against all comers, spreading his paperwork just how he liked, easing into his comfort on the long sofa, forbidding maids from dusting even the shelves which Vidya had filled with glossy leather-boundbooks he never looked at. They had not called in an expensive professional for the house interiors; Vidya had bought a couple of books on the subject and wanted to experiment. Her efforts were praised by their friends; she had spoken briefly of pursuing it as a career before losing interest.
    At his desk, Anand flipped open his laptop, clicking on the following day’s presentation. His thoughts were turbulent and ill-timed; he could not concentrate.
    The study door opened. “Aha! I
thought
I heard you come in.” Valmika peeped in.
    “Hi, kutty,” he said, smiling, his preoccupation instantly banished. “Homework done?”
    “Yup.” Valmika slouched over to the sofa. “I hate physics. And it hates me.”
    “Pingu’s asleep?”
    “Yeah.” She noticed the files and laptop open on the desk. “You’re working right now?”
    “Yeah. Some important meetings tomorrow, Valmika,” he said and, seeing her inquiring gaze, “some people are coming over to the factory, and if all goes well, we could actually enter the export market.”
    “Appa! That’s wonderful! Will you know by tomorrow itself?”
    “No, kutty.” He smiled at her glee. “It will take a few months…. And nothing is definite … but one has to prepare …” She yawned hugely. “Tired? You should go to bed. It’s late, no?”
    “Yes. I suppose. If Newton had sat down under a coconut tree instead of an apple tree, we wouldn’t have had his stupid laws to study because he’d have been struck dead. Which would have been a good thing. Are you staying up late?”
    “Probably.”
    “If tomorrow is important, Appa,” she said, parroting what he always said to her on the eve of an exam, “you should sleep early so you will be bright and fresh for it!”
    He laughed. “Good night, laddu.”
    THE FRONT DOOR SLAMMED at