sonu kumar
Posted On: 09-04-2019
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Half Girlfriend

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Thirty One

At 10.15 on Tuesday morning, my phone rang.
‘We are entering Dumraon. Ten more minutes,’ Samantha said.
I rushed to the school entrance. Twenty kids assigned to be the
welcome party formed two lines facing each other. Each held a plate
with rose petals to be showered on the guests. A girl from class V
would apply the tika.
Parents had already arrived. Over a thousand guests sat on red
plastic chairs under the tent set up for the occasion. Dignitaries and
special invitees sat in the front VIP rows.
The fleet of eight cars became visible. The kids in the welcome
team squealed in excitement. They started to throw flower petals at
each other.
‘Stop it,’ I said to them.
Mr Gates stepped out of his car. Media persons surrounded him,
taking pictures non-stop. A team of ten Americans, including
Samantha, and five Indians from the Foundation, stood behind Mr
Gates.
‘Hi,’ Riya’s voice startled me. I turned to face her. She wore a
baby-pink saree with little silver dots all over. She resembled the rose
petals on the kids’ plates.
‘Saree?’ I said.
She spread her arms. Just seeing her lean body, subtle curves and
the pink chiffon fabric draped around her, made me feel richer than
the richest man in the world who waited for me.
‘How do I look?’ she said.
‘Like Miss India,’ I said. She laughed.
‘Now attend to your guests. I’ll find a place inside.’
‘But Riya...’
‘Shh... Focus on them. All the best.’
She gave me a quick hug and hurried inside.
‘Mr Gates, this is Madhav, one of the founders of the school, fromthe royal family,’ Samantha said. ‘Madhav, Mr Gates.’
I shook hands with the richest man in the world. They say Mr
Gates is so rich, he would not pick up a hundred dollars lying on the
road. He makes more money than that in the time it takes to pick up
the hundred-dollar bill. He shook hands with me for about five
seconds. I wondered how many thousands of dollars he could have
earned in that time.
‘Good to see you, Madhav,’ Mr Gates said. He spoke like an old
friend. Students threw petals on him. Samantha made urgent motions
that we start the function soon.
A mini-stampede occurred on stage. The welcome-song kids
bumped into the dance kids, both sets unprepared for the merger of
their programmes. The welcome song, a Saraswati Vandana, had not
even ended when Bollywood music took over.The mash-up sounded
odd but the audience clapped energetically.
I sat next to my mother on a sofa in the front row. My eyes hunted
for Riya;she sat ten seats away on my left. I gestured for her to come
sit next to me. She smiled and declined from a distance.
The dance ended with kids dancing to Salman Khan’s hit number
‘O, O Jaane Jaana’. My mother went up on stage and the music faded.
She spoke in Hindi.‘Thank you, children. Can we have a big round of
applause for the children, please?’
The crowd dapped hard.
‘Let’s also welcome Mr Gates and his team, who have come all the
way from America,’ she said. The crowd responded with loud cheers
and more applause. Mr Gates turned around in his seat and waved.
‘And now, I understand we have little time. So can I invite Prince
Madhav Jha to give the welcome speech?’
The crowd cheered. My heart started to beat fast. I stood up and
walked to the stage, passing Riya, who gave me a thumbs-up. I
sprinted up to the stage.
*
I scanned the crowd of over a thousand people from left to right,right to left. The crowd had stopped clapping and were now waiting
for me to speak.
I took the mic in my hand. It slipped a little in my palm, which was
sweaty with nervousness.
Not a word came out of me. Nothing. I saw the sea of people. Even
though I had practised the speech a million times, I couldn’t say a
thing.
People were beginning to look a little puzzled. Was it a mic
problem? they wondered,
I saw Riya in her pink saree in a corner of the front row, her eyes
on me. Slowly, she stood up. I felt anxious. What would the crowd
think? However, she simply changed her place to come sit right in
front of me, I lip-read her.
‘One line at a time, go slow,’ she mouthed. Her presence kick-
started something within me. I blurted out:
‘Distinguished guests of the Bill Gates Foundation, respected
dignitaries, my dear students and parents, welcome to the Dumraon
Royal School,’
The crowd cheered. Most did not understand English, but the
mention of Dumraon was enough to set them off. The Foundation
delegates looked at me with attention.
Okay, I can do this, I told myself, Just like at the rehearsals with
Riya. Just imagine only she is here.
I gazed at Riya. She gave me a nod and smiled. Encouraged, I
continued:
‘Mr Bill Gates is here with us today. He is the richest man in the
world. I am sure he is sick of being told that all the time.’
From a distance, I noticed Bill Gates smile. He is listening to me, I
thought.
‘Sir, you know that rich in terms of money is not enough to have
the richest life. That is why you are here. In my Bihar, which, even
though we love it, is one of the most backward places on the planet.’
Riya was nodding after every line.‘And in this backward Bihar is this extraordinary school. This
school with seven hundred kids, three teachers, negligible fees, no
proper classrooms, no toilets, no real government support and yet, a
lot of riches.’
Riya gave me two thumbs-ups. Okay, no mistakes so far.
‘The real riches here are the kids. I am supposed to teach them.
However, they have taught me so much. We grown-ups complain
about what is lacking in this school, But these kids, they never
complain. Come to our school at any time and you will hear only one
thing from them—laughter.’
The front row, the people who understood me, broke into
applause.The subsequent rows followed a minute later, if only to show
that they understood as well.
‘If you ask these kids, they will say this is the best school in the
world, They love their friends. They love whatever they get to learn
here. However, I know this school can give them more. I know kids
deserving more only.’
Riya frowned. Damn, I’ve made a mistake. It should be 'I know
the kids deserve more’.
I was panic-stricken. Riya gestured for me to breathe. I inhaled
deeply and exhaled slowly. Composed, I continued, ‘I know the kids
deserve more. Because I have seen the value a good education can
add. It is not just to get you a job. It is not just about knowledge and
the new things you learn either. A good education gives you self-
confidence.’
I paused to consult my notes. I looked up and spoke again.
‘Today, I speak to you in English. I didn’t know this language well.
I was scared and ashamed. People made fun of me. I spent my whole
college life with a complex. I don’t want that to happen to these kids. I
don’t want anyone to tell them they are not good enough.’
People clapped. I don’t know if they understood me, or if they had
just connected with the emotion in my voice.
‘For that I need resources. I need good teachers. However, goodteachers won’t come to a school without basic facilities. Students can’t
be taught without proper classrooms. You can’t have a real school
without toilets.’
Riya’s eyes stayed on me. They kept me going.
‘I don’t want to beg from our government. I don’t want to beg
from anyone, actually. Money is not my thing. I left a job at a
multinational bank to be here. But sadly, you need some money to do
even good things in life.’
Riya signalled for me to sign off; the speech ended around here.
However, I continued to speak, unrehearsed and impromptu.
‘Mr Gates, people must tell you that you are a lucky man to have so
much money. It might irritate you also, since what you have achieved
is not just because of luck. It is because of your creativity, vision and
hard work. You deserve it. However, let me tell you one place where
luck helped you.’
Riya looked at me, shocked. When had I come up with all this, she
seemed to be wondering.
I continued, ‘Where you are truly lucky is that you were born in
America. To be born in a country where everyone gets a chance. One
of my kids may have it in him to open a global company like yours,
but he won’t get a chance. Mr Gates, you were lucky to get that
chance. Today, we don’t run the school in the hope of aid or
recognition. All we are trying to do here is ensure that every kid in our
school gets that chance. Thank you.’
Thunderous applause. Some in the crowd, including Riya and Mr
Gates, stood up. Soon, the rest of the crowd followed. I received a
standing ovation. I couldn’t believe I had delivered the speech I had
obsessed over for months. I couldn’t believe I had conquered one of
my biggest demons—English. I folded my hands and left the stage.
I walked back to my seat. My mother turned to me.
‘You learnt so much English?’ she whispered.
‘She taught me.’ I pointed to Riya.
My mother and Riya smiled politely at each other.Students took over the stage again. They did a dance-drama about
Lord Krishna, the naughty boy who stole butter. The shortest student
in class II, a little girl called Karuna, played Krishna. She wore a
headband with a peacock feather stuck in it. After it was over, my
mother went up on stage and thanked the participating students.
Samantha from the Gates Foundation came up to me.
‘Bill needs to leave. Otherwise we will be late,’ she whispered in
my ear, her voice rushed.
‘Won’t he give a speech?’ I said.
‘He never does.’
My heart sank. I wanted to ask her how the speech went but
Samantha seemed too stressed out to notice or care.
‘I would like to call Mr Bill Gates on the stage to say a few words,’
my mother said. Mr Gates smiled and folded his hands, however,
asking to be excused.
I ran back up on stage. My mother seemed surprised. I took the
mic from her.‘Mr Gates needs to leave. If it’s okay, I would like to call
Inin on stage to accept a small gift from us,’ I said.
Mr Gates obliged. He came on stage, along with two members of
his Foundation. A class V girl arrived with the gift. It was a small
hand-painted clay pot. Several students had drawn flowers on it. In the
potwas a flowering plant.
‘It’s beautiful,' Mr Gates said as he accepted the gift.
I smiled at him.
‘Nice speech,’ he said.
‘Thank you, sir,’ I said. I shook hands with the other two delegates
tin stage. One was Phil and the other was Roger, a young assistant to
Mr Gates.
‘Phil, do you want to?’ Mr Gates said.
‘Yeah, sure,’ Phil said.
Want to what? I wondered.

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