A Suitable Boy(692)
I am not writing any more news because I am in haste and also have given you the joyous news of Lata and Haresh in the previous letter to which I have yet had no answer or congratulations, but you must be busy, I know, with your father’s hip operation. I hope he is now fully recovered. It must be hard for him, he is so impatient with illness, and now he is himself experiencing it. And you. must also take care of yourself. Health is truly the most precious possession.
With fondest love to you both,
Yours,
Ma
(Mrs. Rupa Mehra)
P.S. Please send me a telegram after the interview is over, otherwise I will not be able to sleep.
*
Varun looked nervously around at his fellow passengers as the cold, dry, flat countryside around Delhi hurtled past the windows of the train. No one appeared to realize how momentous this journey was for him. Having read the Delhi edition of the Times of India from the first page to the last and back again – for who knew what the predatory interviewers might decide to ask him about current affairs? – he stealthily glanced at an advertisement that seemed to leap out at him:
Dr Dugle. Highly honoured and patronised for his social services (Inland and Overseas) by many eminent persons, Rajas, Maharajas, and chiefs. Dr Dugle. India’s leading specialist with international fame in chronic diseases such as nervous debility, premature old age, run down conditions, lack of vigour and vitality, and similar acute diseases. Consultations in complete confidence.
Varun fell gloomily to pondering his innumerable social, intellectual and other inadequacies. Then another ad attracted his attention.
Dress your hair with the creamed oils of Brylcreem.
Why creamed oils? Brylcreem is a creamed mixture of tonic oils. It is easier to apply, cleaner to use and its creaminess gives the right amount of all Brylcreem ingredients each time. Brylcreem gives that smooth soft lustre to the hair which so many women admire.
Buy Brylcreem today.
Varun felt suddenly miserable. He doubted that even Brylcreem would help women to admire him. He knew he was going to make a fool of himself in the interview, just as in everything else.
*
‘The servants will be coming in half an hour,’ whispered Kalpana Gaur tenderly, pushing Varun gently out of her bed.
‘Oh.’
‘And you’d better sleep in your own bed for half an hour, so that they don’t wonder.’
Varun looked at her, amazed. She smiled at him in a motherly sort of way, the pale green quilt up around her neck.
‘And then you’d better get ready for breakfast and the interview. Today’s your big day.’
‘Ah.’ Varun seemed speechless.
‘Now, Varun, don’t be tongue-tied, it won’t do – at least not today. You have to impress them and charm them. I promised your mother I’d make sure you were well taken care of and that I’d boost your confidence. Do you feel boosted?’
Varun blushed, then smiled weakly. ‘Heh, heh,’ he laughed anxiously, wondering how he was going to get out of bed without embarrassment. And it was so cold in Delhi compared to Calcutta. The mornings were freezing.
‘It’s so cold,’ he mumbled.
‘Do you know,’ said Kalpana Gaur, ‘I often feel hot spots on my feet which trouble me throughout the night, but last night I didn’t feel any at all. You were marvellous, Varun. Now remember, if at any time during the interview you begin to feel anxious, think of last night, and tell yourself: “I am the Iron Frame of India.” ’
Varun still looked dazed, though not unhappy.
‘Use my dressing-gown,’ suggested Kalpana Gaur.
Varun gave her a grateful and puzzled glance.
A couple of hours later, after breakfast, she examined his appearance critically, patted his pockets, adjusted his striped tie, wiped off the excessive Brylcreem in his hair, and combed it again.
‘But –’ protested Varun.
‘Now I’ll make sure you get to the right place at the right time.’
‘That’s not necessary,’ said Varun, not wanting to cause trouble.
‘It’s on my way to the hospital.’
‘Er, give my best to your father when you get there.’
‘Of course.’
‘Kalpana?’
‘Yes, Varun?’
‘What happened to that mysterious illness of yours that Ma kept telling us about? It was more than just hot spots, according to her.’
‘Oh, that?’ Kalpana looked thoughtful. ‘It sorted itself out the moment my father had to go to hospital. It made no sense for both of us to be ill.’
The union Public Service Commission was holding its interviews in a temporary structure in Connaught Place, one which had been set up during the War and had not yet been dismantled. Kalpana Gaur squeezed Varun’s hand in the taxi. ‘Don’t look so dazed,’ she said. ‘And remember, never say, “I don’t know”; always say, “I’m afraid I haven’t any idea.” You look very presentable, Varun. Much more handsome than your brother.’