HOSTEL ROOM 131 by R Raj Rao

Author:R Raj Rao
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780143064466
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2010-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

41

The constant taunting of his wife and the reference to the dirty photo made Dr Raikar return to Ravi Humbe’s letter several times to read between the lines. He had found it and safely tucked it away in his almirah, as if it was a letter disclosing the whereabouts of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose! According to Mrs Raikar, Siddharth was nothing but a glib talker, like the bogus sadhus she read about in the Diwali editions of Marathi magazines. What formed this impression was his self-proclaimed interest in the Bhagavad Gita, which was one of the two ways in which they saw him—the other, of course, being his role as an English teacher. But when his wife woke up screaming one night because she’d dreamt that Siddharth had kidnapped her only son and transformed him into a saffron-clad sanyasi, Dr Raikar felt it was time to travel to Pune and investigate.

Mrs Raikar lovingly packed puris and potatoes for him in a steel tiffin box, and she and Sneha saw him off at the door. He boarded the first available bus though it was packed to capacity. As a result, he had to stand in the aisle, precariously clutching the handlebar above his head, for a good two hours before the bus reached Kolhapur where several passengers alighted.

Six hours later, Dr Raikar was in Pune, a city he hadn’t visited since his own college days. It seemed to him almost like a foreign country, with disciplined traffic, tree-lined pavements and, above all, dust-free roads. Hailing an auto-rickshaw, he reached the Engineering College Hostel.

Sudhir never suspected that his father was going to pay him a visit. Dr Raikar had made sure not to inform him in advance for, as Ravi Humbe had advised, he intended this to be a surprise visit—not unlike those made by health inspectors who swoop down on eating houses and revoke their licences for not being hygienic enough. He was away at the mess drinking his evening tea when Dr Raikar made his way to E Block after accosting scores of students to ask for directions.

On seeing his father squatting on the steps waiting for him, Sudhir was shocked. ‘Baba, you? Is everything okay at home?’ he asked in Marathi, trying his best to hide his displeasure. Then he picked up his father’s suitcase and unlocked the door of his room, wondering where he would make his father’s bed. Obviously, he would give his own bed to his father and sleep on the floor. Farouq would have no option but to put up with the nuisance for a day or two.

Taking advantage of the fact that, exhausted after the bus journey, his father lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, Sudhir slipped out of his room to make an STD call to Siddharth, who’d gone to Bombay for the weekend, and apprise him of the developments. ‘Don’t come here, even by mistake, till I call again,’ he yelled into the phone.

As was his wont, Siddharth wanted answers to a host of questions.

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