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'May I have the mic?’ Phil said.
I passed the mic to him.
‘Namaste,’ Phil addressed the audience. That one word in Hindi
made the audience swoon in ecstasy. This is how we Indians are. If
white guys speak even a tiny bit of Hindi, we love them.
‘Kaise hain?’ Phil said. The crowd roared in excitement.
‘We loved the show. Congratulations to all students, mubarak,’ he
said. Applause rent the air.
‘We found the students here extremely talented. We feel they
deserve to have more opportunities to learn. We have decided to give
the school a dozen computers, with all our software preloaded.’
The crowd clapped. I did too, wondering what we would do with
computers without electricity. Maybe they will come with computer
tables, I thought. We could use the tables. Phil continued, ‘Of course,
computers alone will not be enough in a school that needs
infrastructure. Thus, the Gates Foundation would like to give the
school a one-time grant of fifty thousand dollars and, subject to
inspection, a grant of ten thousand dollars a year for the next five
years.’
My head felt light. I saw the activity around me in a haze. Riya
jumped. Really, she stood up and jumped. Everything else was a blur.
The media sprang into action. Reporters barged ahead of the front row
to take pictures. My mother couldn’t contain her excitement. She came
on the podium and translated the announcement in Hindi, and
converted the amounts to rupees.
‘Twenty lakh rupees now, and four lakhs a year for the next five
years. We will now make this one of the best schools in Bihar,’ my
mother said. The crowd stood up and continued to clap. MLA Ojha
inserted his face in front of as many cameras as possible.
My mother gave me a hug. Samantha came up to me and
whispered in my ear, ‘Congratulations, Madhav, you did it. We will