the 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,