The Hope Factory A Novel - By Lavanya Sankaran Page 0,36

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Anand felt himself flush. “I had some meetings with the bank,” he said.

“Anand’s work is going very well,” announced Ruby Chinappa in some haste, and Anand felt the chill of polite attention settle upon him.

“Oh, yes!” said Colonel Krishnaiah. “Vidya was telling me the other day. Factory full of orders, is it? How nice. Well done.”

“Vidya seems so proud of your successes,” he heard someone else say.

“Yes, yes,” said Ruby Chinappa. “We all are.”

“Ruby! The chip bowls appear empty,” said Harry Chinappa. “I have to keep reminding you. Really,” he announced, “if one wants anything done well in this household, one is almost forced to do it oneself…. Now, if you will all excuse me for a few minutes.” He waited until a flushed Ruby Chinappa hurried in with freshly topped chip bowls before sweeping Anand before him into a little side alcove lined with books, a desk, and uncomfortable wooden chairs that could never be criticized because they were older than all the humans in the house.

Anand settled himself into a chair, feeling the knots of wood press into his back. If the object of highest veneration in the Chinappa household was the piano, the books in this alcove came a close second. Anand had not closely encountered the first before his marriage and had never displayed any affinity for his father-in-law’s library of books by dead English writers with names like P. G. Wodehouse and H. H. Munro; all this apparently served to put him even further beyond the pale of Harry Chinappa’s approval.

Harish “Harry” Chinappa was a proud man—who had made one incalculable mistake in his life—selling most of his vast Coorg coffee plantation when land prices, and coffee prices, were at their lowest. He sold and, having sold, was destined to spend the remainder of his existence watching land prices rise and recalculating his putative net worth had-he-but-not-sold. His son-in-law’s small successes might be a source of comfort to his wife; he himself appeared to reserve judgment.

Harry Chinappa sat down at the table. “The meeting tomorrow,” he said, “is with Mr. Sankleshwar.” In the brief silence that followed, he seemed to sense Anand’s surprise and hesitation and said: “Are you having any success in sourcing the land?”

“Yes,” said Anand. “That is to say, I have spoken to a landbroker of Vinayak’s. My friend, Vinayak Agarwal? But nothing has yet come through. They said these things take time.”

“Vinayak Agarwal?” said Harry Chinappa. “That young fellow? He has no concept of these things…. Why should it take time? What utter nonsense. No, don’t bother with him. My boy, when someone says something will ‘take time,’ it either means that they don’t have the resources to do the job or that there is some other unknown complication.” Harry Chinappa seemed to gain confidence as he assessed the effects of his words on Anand. “Now, about Sankleshwar. It is a big opportunity. I think I do not need to spell that out for you. Really, you are very lucky to be invited to his office. I know people who wait weeks and months just to see him, in fact, just the other day, who was saying? … I forget who, someone was saying that they have waited now to meet him for two and a half months…. You are very lucky. Very lucky indeed. But, as you know, I begrudge no effort if it will benefit you youngsters.”

“Okay,” said Anand.

Harry Chinappa waited for him to say more and then sighed. “It might be best,” he said, “if you were to allow me to handle it. At least initially. It would not do to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I’m sure I needn’t remind you to be anything less than respectful to Mr. Sankleshwar. Such an important man. Really, you are quite lucky. But follow my lead in tomorrow’s meeting and we should be okay. Let me see, we need about twenty acres for the factory …”

“Ten,” said Anand. “Ten acres.”

“Yes. That is what I thought. Ten would be about right. Or perhaps twenty … Very good! … And of course I will absolutely ask for no special favors from Mr. Sankleshwar. In fact, I will insist that we pay a fair and reasonable price for the land. Not only must one be fair in one’s business dealings, one must also appear to be fair. At least, I like to think so.” Harry Chinappa moved a few objects absentmindedly about his desk; his gaze encountered Anand; he continued