Delhi 3

summer's day. I loved Piyush Yadav in that instant.

'Yes, sir. Dumraon.'

'I know.Three hours from Patna, right?' he said.

'You know Dumraon?'I said. I could have kissed his feet. The

three English-speaking monsters continued to stare.

'I'm from Patna. Anyway, tell them about your achievements in

basketball,

' Piyush said.

I nodded. He sensed my nervousness and spoke again.'Take your

time. I am Hindi-medium, too. I know the feeling.'

The three professors looked at Piyush as if wondering how he had

ever managed to get a job at the college.

I composed myself and spoke my rehearsed lines.

'Sir, I have played state-level basketball for six years. Last year, I

was in the waiting list for the BFI national team.'

'BFI?'said Prof. Gupta.

'Basketball Federation of India,

' Piyush answered for me, even

though I knew the answer.

'And you want to do sociology. Why?' Prof. Fernandez said.

'It's an easy course, No need to study. Is that it?' Prof. Gupta

remarked.

I didn't, know whether Gupta had something against me, was

generally grumpy or suffered from constipation.

'I am from rural area.'

'I am from a rural area,

' Gupta said, emphasizing the 'a' as if

omitting it was a criminal offence.

'Hindi, sir? Can I explain in Hindi?'

Nobody answered. I had little choice. I took my chances and

responded in my language. 'My mother runs a school and works with

the villagers. I wanted to learn more about our society. Why are our

villages so backward? Why do we have so many differences based on

caste and religion? I thought I could find some answers in this course.'

Prof. Gupta understood me perfectly well. However, he was what

English-speaking people would call an 'uptight prick'. He asked