Baba seemed even more anxious than me. One night when I went to give him his medicines, he asked, ‘When are the results?’ 'Next week,’ I said. ‘IIT?’ ‘A week after that,’ I said. ‘If IIT happens it will be amazing, no?’ Baba said, his eyes bright. I covered him with a blanket. ‘Baba, did the doctor say you need an operation?’ ‘Doctors want more business these days, what else?’ he said. ‘Should we ask Ghanshyam taya-ji to give us whatever he wants for the land?’ I said. ‘No use. He won’t listen. Anyway, what will I do with an operation at this age? ‘You never listen, Baba.’ I shook my head and switched off the light. ‘It isn’t the end of the world, Gopal. It isn’t.’ She reached out for my hand. ‘Say something.’ Aarti had invited me home on the day of the AIEEE results. She had an Internet connection and, despite my insisting otherwise, didn’t want me to see the results all on my own. I remember everything about that moment. The red and black embroidered tablecloth on the computer table, the noisy fan above, the various government trophies that belonged to her father, the black colour of the laptop, and the screen that showed my rank.
