22
I returned to Dumraon after my Patna weekend and resumed duties
at the school. I also coordinated with MLA Ojha’s office for the
whitewash.
Later in the week I sat with a paint contractor in the staffroom. My
phone buzzed.
‘Madhav? Hi, this is Samantha from the Foundation.’
‘How are you, Samantha?’ I said, pronouncing the words just right,
as Verma sir would have liked.
‘I am great. How are the preparations going?’
‘We are working on it,’ I said slowly.
‘Super. Listen, two of my colleagues are in Patna later this week. I
think you should meet them.’
I tried hard to understand Samantha’s words, given their breakneck
speed.
‘Meet whom?’
‘My seniors from the New York office. They have a say in grants.
You should network with them.’
‘Network?’
English is hard enough to decode, but when these Americans speak
it, it is impossible.
‘Get to know them. Can you come?’
‘I am in Patna on weekends anyway.’
‘How about Saturday then? We have field visits later, but you can
meet us for breakfast.’
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘We will be at the Chanakya Hotel. Eight o’clock?’
‘Eight is fine.’
‘See you on Saturday,’ she said and hung up.
The paint contractor looked at me in awe. I had managed an entire
conversation in English.
‘What?’ I said to him.