34
Chetan Bhagat’s room,
Chanakya Hotel, Patna
‘You okay?’ I said.
He had paused to wipe his tears. I gave him time. He bit his lip but
it was a losing battle. Soon, he was crying like a two-year-old, his tall
torso slumped on the chair.
‘I don’t know why I’m crying. It was a long time ago,’ Madhav
said in between sobs.
‘How long?’
‘Two years and three months. Three and a half months, actually.’
‘Since she left?’
‘Yes.’
He excused himself and went to the toilet. I made two cups of
green tea. We had finished our first cup of chai a long time ago. He
came out in a few minutes. He had washed his face.
‘Sorry,’ he said.I lost it.’
‘Here, have some more tea.’
I gave a cup to him. He took a sip.
‘What tea is this?’
‘Green tea.’
‘No milk? No sugar?’ he said. He looked at me like I was a
vegetarian vampire.
‘It’s good for you,’ I said.
‘Is it? Anyway, thanks,’ he said.
‘So, Madhav. What happened then? You met the broker. You saw
her empty house. Then? Did you try to find her?’
He nodded.
‘I did. I called her company. They said she had submitted her
resignation and left, letting go of all her benefits in return for a shorter