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'Get me out of here,' I broke down completely. 'Where are you? Where are you? 1 'Taj Ganga, 405 ... I don't want to be here.' T am coming,'he promised. In an hour I was seated beside the dean in his car and on my way back to campus. 'So, what were ...' he began but fell quiet. He understood, after one look at my face, that I didn't want to talk. 'Dean Shrivastava, I want to work hard. Let's take GangaTech to new heights. I want us to be present in every field of education. Keep me busy. So busy that I don't have time to think.' 'You are already so busy, sir.' He looked troubled. 'More. Why aren't we in coaching classes?' I said. 'There's money there. I want a proposal for engineering and MBA coaching. Okay?' I said, my voice ringing. 'Are you okay, Director Gopal?' the dean said. 'Are you listening to me? I want the proposal,' I said, screaming loud enough to make the driver shift uncomfortably in his seat. 'Yes, Director,'the dean said. He dropped me home. I went straight to the bar near the dining table. 1 opened a new bottle of Black Label whisky we'd bought for the inspectors. I poured it out in a glass to the brim. Neat. The maids filed in. 'Where were you, sahib?' they said. 1 had work,' I said. The whisky tasted bitter, but I swallowed it all. 'Dinner?' I shook my head. The maids left the room. I went to the bookshelf and took out the scrapbook. I poured myself another glass. I drank half of it in one gulp, but when my body rejected it, I had to spit it out. I fell on the floor.
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