earlier, but I have been getting only good feedback about it. Looks like everyone found it quite worthwhile. Congratulations.’
Lakshman had proven his organizational mettle barely weeks ago by successfully conducting an international conference at the Institute. Though it was planned at short notice, it was a roaring success, attracting scholars from all parts of the world and eliciting excellent reviews from them. Lakshman had picked up the cue from the director and masterminded the entire event from start to finish. So he could jolly well take the credit he deserved for his work and he did that with a safe touch of humility. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said. ‘It wouldn’t have happened without your unflinching guidance and institutional backing.’
‘Well, well, why do you have to be so modest always?’ the director said.
Thecanny political animal that he was, Lakshman knew that the director was only flattering to deceive. The Supreme Being on the Fifth Floor was one of those people who would pat a donkey’s back only as a prelude to weighing it down with a massive payload of dirty laundry and administering a painful prod in the ribs with a whip-handle. So Lakshman pricked up his ears and listened.
The director continued: ‘It’s this rare combination of ability and modesty that brings me to you time and again.’
Lakshman held his beer breath. Oh my God!
‘The Institute is in need of your services once again, Professor Lakshman. We need to organize another important event.’
‘Another conference, sir?’
‘No, not a conference, but a ceremony to award an honorary doctorate.’
‘Can’t we club it with the next convocation in August, sir? It’ll save us so much trouble.’
‘I knew you would suggest that, but no, we can’t afford to wait till then. We need to get it done by January.’
‘So soon, sir?’
‘Yeah. I know the time is short, that’s why I’m calling you so late in the day. If there is anybody capable of making it happen, it is you.’
‘Anyone coming from Germany, sir?’
‘No, not from Germany. From Bombay. Mumbai, I should say.’
‘Bombay?’ Lakshman asked, somewhat puzzled.
‘Yeah.’
‘Who’s coming from Bombay, sir?’
The director sighed. So heavily that it went whooshing into Lakshman’s ears like a cyclone and made him shudder.
‘One Mr Pomonia, Mr Chiman Pomonia.’
‘The . . . the . . . the . . . industrialist?’ Lakshman stammered.
‘If you wish to call him that, yes, the same Mr Pomonia. Our brief is to promote him to Dr Pomonia.’
‘WHAT!’ Lakshman gasped. He did not normally lose his composure with the director, but he was too rattled to observe the usual rules of engagement.
‘Do you mind coming over to my bungalow for a few minutes? I’ll be waiting for you in the garden. It’s better to discuss certain things in person rather than over the phone. Besides, it’ll also give me the opportunity to introduce you to the masala milk our cook makes; it’s the best digestive I have come across in thirty years.’
Lakshman could not believe that the Institute had chosen to bestow an honorary doctorate upon Pomonia of all people. Conferring honorary doctorates was all part of the rough and tumble of academic life at the Institute and Lakshman hardly expected to have any say in who got chosen for the award, but it was always someone he’d found acceptable or at least tolerable. Dignitaries from Germany could usually look forward to red-carpet ceremonies and honorary doctorates at the Institute by the sheer virtue of that nation’s contributions to it, as could be evidenced from street names like Berlin Avenue and Bonn Avenue on the campus. According a similar treatment to Chiman Pomonia rankled Lakshman no end.
Pomonia was, of course, a big fish, a billionaire, many times over. All self-made pelf, every single paisa of it. From a little boy in a village who was forced by his father’s sudden demise to drop out of high school and take up
Lakshman had proven his organizational mettle barely weeks ago by successfully conducting an international conference at the Institute. Though it was planned at short notice, it was a roaring success, attracting scholars from all parts of the world and eliciting excellent reviews from them. Lakshman had picked up the cue from the director and masterminded the entire event from start to finish. So he could jolly well take the credit he deserved for his work and he did that with a safe touch of humility. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said. ‘It wouldn’t have happened without your unflinching guidance and institutional backing.’
‘Well, well, why do you have to be so modest always?’ the director said.
Thecanny political animal that he was, Lakshman knew that the director was only flattering to deceive. The Supreme Being on the Fifth Floor was one of those people who would pat a donkey’s back only as a prelude to weighing it down with a massive payload of dirty laundry and administering a painful prod in the ribs with a whip-handle. So Lakshman pricked up his ears and listened.
The director continued: ‘It’s this rare combination of ability and modesty that brings me to you time and again.’
Lakshman held his beer breath. Oh my God!
‘The Institute is in need of your services once again, Professor Lakshman. We need to organize another important event.’
‘Another conference, sir?’
‘No, not a conference, but a ceremony to award an honorary doctorate.’
‘Can’t we club it with the next convocation in August, sir? It’ll save us so much trouble.’
‘I knew you would suggest that, but no, we can’t afford to wait till then. We need to get it done by January.’
‘So soon, sir?’
‘Yeah. I know the time is short, that’s why I’m calling you so late in the day. If there is anybody capable of making it happen, it is you.’
‘Anyone coming from Germany, sir?’
‘No, not from Germany. From Bombay. Mumbai, I should say.’
‘Bombay?’ Lakshman asked, somewhat puzzled.
‘Yeah.’
‘Who’s coming from Bombay, sir?’
The director sighed. So heavily that it went whooshing into Lakshman’s ears like a cyclone and made him shudder.
‘One Mr Pomonia, Mr Chiman Pomonia.’
‘The . . . the . . . the . . . industrialist?’ Lakshman stammered.
‘If you wish to call him that, yes, the same Mr Pomonia. Our brief is to promote him to Dr Pomonia.’
‘WHAT!’ Lakshman gasped. He did not normally lose his composure with the director, but he was too rattled to observe the usual rules of engagement.
‘Do you mind coming over to my bungalow for a few minutes? I’ll be waiting for you in the garden. It’s better to discuss certain things in person rather than over the phone. Besides, it’ll also give me the opportunity to introduce you to the masala milk our cook makes; it’s the best digestive I have come across in thirty years.’
Lakshman could not believe that the Institute had chosen to bestow an honorary doctorate upon Pomonia of all people. Conferring honorary doctorates was all part of the rough and tumble of academic life at the Institute and Lakshman hardly expected to have any say in who got chosen for the award, but it was always someone he’d found acceptable or at least tolerable. Dignitaries from Germany could usually look forward to red-carpet ceremonies and honorary doctorates at the Institute by the sheer virtue of that nation’s contributions to it, as could be evidenced from street names like Berlin Avenue and Bonn Avenue on the campus. According a similar treatment to Chiman Pomonia rankled Lakshman no end.
Pomonia was, of course, a big fish, a billionaire, many times over. All self-made pelf, every single paisa of it. From a little boy in a village who was forced by his father’s sudden demise to drop out of high school and take up
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