The Hope Factory A Novel

thirty-one





A CALL TO WAR. THE PLOTTING of a campaign. Already the schemes were unfolding within him, spores planted, the fungus spreading through, feeding on a hot, moist bed of anger. To twist things in his favor, Anand would have to employ not only his father-in-law’s manipulativeness but also a page from Vinayak’s cynical approach to democratic government. If that was what it took, he would. But how to get access to Vijayan?

The following morning Vidya, unwittingly, showed him the way.

She appeared at the breakfast table, freshly showered, wrapped in a shawl, taking refuge behind a cup of tea. Like him, she seemed to focus her energies on interacting with the children. By the end of it she had relaxed a little, the very normalcy of the meal calming her. “Ey, you know, I was supposed to go with Amir and Amrita to that fund-raiser this evening. But I can’t do it. I’m too exhausted. Can’t face anyone. Amir is going to be so disappointed.”

“You shouldn’t go,” he said, with sterilized, routine comfort. “Rest up.”

She said, and he snapped to attention: “Vijayan is going to be there, you know. First time I would be meeting him since Diwali…. But I just don’t feel up to it. I can’t even think of an excuse.”

“You know,” said Anand, “why don’t I go? Instead of you? I’ll speak to Amir.”

“Really? You will? That’s great…. Yes,” said Vidya, her eyes moist. “I really need my rest.”


HE CALLED AMIR IMMEDIATELY from the study. He could not share his various schemes with him, for Amir might not understand; he would urge Anand not to pay any bribes and to stand strong and watch his company fail. “Hey, buddy, listen, Vidya is not feeling very well and I was wondering if I could come to the fund-raiser instead of her? Yeah, should be interesting…. Yeah, I’ll swing by and pick up an invitation. Are you sure Vijayan will be there tonight? Great!”

Amir was in the small office he and Amrita used for their charitable work. It was cluttered with papers. When Anand arrived, Amrita was on her way out. “Hey, you!” she said. “Stranger! Don’t see enough of you…. But thanks again, for the latest check…. Are you coming to the fund-raiser tonight?”

Anand grinned. “Maybe,” he said, and she left in a flurry of busyness.

He checked at the door. Amir wasn’t alone; Kavika was seated there as well.

He didn’t know how to react to her presence; he wanted her gone so he could compose himself; he wanted her there; he wanted to pour his soul out to her and her alone. Instead, he held out his hand to Amir for the invitation. “You’re sure Vijayan will be there?”

Amir laughed at him. “Yes, bugger, but why do you care all of a sudden?”

Kavika walked out with him, heading to her own car. “So how are you doing? Any solutions?”

“I’m working on it,” he said.

“Why do I get the sense that your interest in this fund-raiser has something to do with the problems at your factory?” He said nothing, but she saw something, surely, for she said: “Anand. Good luck. Whatever you have planned. Good luck.”

She leaned forward. He knew she was going to hug him before it happened. He felt her arms lightly about him, her breath on his ear, the fleeting touch of her lips on his cheek. Her skin had an ancient familiarity to him, a coming home. He held himself still, the moment spinning out to all eternity, loss already gathering deep within him.

She smiled and was gone.