Free Slumdog Millionaire: A Novel by Vikas Swarup Page A

work and his crashing out in bed. This interval is, for us, the zone of fear.
    We think this is a passing phase and that Shantaram will eventually recover. But it actually gets worse. Shantaram begins drinking even more and then he starts throwing things. He begins with plastic cups and books, which he throws at the wall in disgust. Then he starts breaking pots and pans. The ruckus he creates makes living next door very difficult. But we know complaining to Mr Ramakrishna is out of the question. The voices of a thirteen-year-old and an eleven-year old habitual rent offender do not carry much weight. So we simply duck in bed whenever an object thuds on to our common wall and cringe in fear whenever we hear the sound of a plate crashing or china breaking.
    Even this phase does not last long. Pretty soon, Shantaram starts throwing objects at people.
    Mainly his family members. He reserves maximum ire for his wife. 'You bloody bitch! You are the one who has brought me down in life. I could be writing research papers on black holes, and instead I am showing blouse pieces and saris to wretched housewives. I hate you! Why don't you die?' he would holler, and throw a peppershaker, a glass, a plate. At his wife, his daughter, her cat.
    One night he exceeds all limits and throws a piping-hot cup of tea at his wife. Gudiya tries to shield her mother and the burning liquid falls on her instead, scalding her face. She shrieks in agony. Shantaram is so drunk he doesn't even realize what he has done. I rush out to get a taxi for Mrs Shantaram to take her daughter to hospital. Two days later, she comes to me and asks whether I will go with her to visit Gudiya. 'She gets very lonely. Perhaps you can talk to her.'
    So I accompany Mrs Shantaram on my first-ever visit to a hospital.

    * * *
The first thing that assails your senses when you enter a hospital is the smell. I feel nauseated by the cloying, antiseptic smell of disinfectant, which permeates every corner of the dirty wards.
    The second thing that strikes you is that you don't see any happy people. The patients lying on their green beds are moaning and groaning and even the nurses and doctors seem grim. But the worst thing is the indifference. No one is really bothered about you. I had imagined there would be doctors and nurses swarming all over Gudiya, but I find her lying all alone on a bed inside the Burns Unit with not a single nurse on duty. Her face is completely bandaged; only her black eyes can be seen.
    'Gudiya, look who has come to see you,' Mrs Shantaram says, beaming at me.
    I feel diffident approaching the girl. She is obviously much older than me. I am just a voyeur who has heard some snippets from her life; I hardly know her. I don't see her lips, but I can see from her eyes that she is smiling at me and that breaks the ice between us.
    I sit with her for three hours, talking about this and that. Gudiya asks me, 'How did you get such an unusual name – Ram Mohammad Thomas?'
    'It is a very long story. I will tell you when you are well.'
    She tells me about herself. I learn that she is about to finish her Intermediate and start University.
    Her ambition is to become a doctor. She asks me about myself. I don't tell her anything about Father Timothy or what happened to me later, but I recount my experiences in the chawl. I tell her about life as a foundry worker. She listens to me with rapt attention and makes me feel very important and wanted.
    A doctor comes and tells Mrs Shantaram that her daughter is lucky. She has received only first-degree burns and will not have any permanent scars. She will be discharged within a week.
    The three hours that I spend with Gudiya enable me to learn a lot about her father. Mrs
    Shantaram tells me, 'My husband is a famous space scientist. Rather, he was a scientist. He used to work in the Aryabhatta Space Research Institute, where he investigated stars with the help of huge telescopes. We used to live in a big bungalow on the Institute's