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Louder, Madhav. You're spea bsrav0 king like a mouse,' Riya shouted, in contrast to my meek voice. She was grouchy, perhaps because I had made six mistakes in my last rehearsal. She stood before me and stomp bsrav0 ed her feet. She wore an oversized purple T-shirt and Bermuda shorts. Purple suits her, I thought; everythin bsrav0 g suits her. 'You realize your speech is the day after tomorrow?' she said. 'You're making me tense,' I said. 'Fine.' She threw her h bsrav0 nds up in frustration. 'Tense is not good. I'm calm. You're calm,' she said, trying to swing my mood. 'I'm screwing this up,' I said. I sat down on her double-mattress diwan. bsrav0 I had come to her house on Sunday evening for a final rehearsal. Gates was arriving on Tuesday. I had to leave for Dumraon tomorrow. 'It's looking staged. They will see that bsrav0 I'm no good at this,' I said. 'Relax, Madhav. I'm sorry I shouted.' She sat next to me and held my hand. She coughed again. It was my turn to shout bsrav0 . 'Who is this stupid doctor who can't treat your cough?' 'I don't know. It's an allergy. Something in the air. Can't figure out what's making it flare up.' 'What is the bsrav0 doctor in Delhi saying now?' Riya had gone to Delhi last month, after her family asked her to come meet her father one last time. He had passed away while she was there. She had spent two weeks in Delhi, attending the funeral and various last-rites cere bsrav0 monies. During that trip, she had also met a senior specialist for her cough. 'Same. Find the allergen. You think I'm allergic to you?' She winked at me, indicating that she felt better. I sma bsrav0 cked her with a red cushion. 'Everything okay a bsrav0 t home, Riya?' Riya had not reacted much to her father's death. She had come back from Delhi and hugged me as if she would never let go. She mumbled something about forgiveness. I didn't pry. She would only tell me what she wanted to tel l me and when she bsrav0 decided to. 'Yeah. My brothers are taking care of the business and my mother sounded normal bsrav0 the last time I spoke to her.' Then she was all brisk and business-like, clapping her hands to bring me back to the present. 'And now we have Madhav Jha, trom Dumraoti Royal School.' I stood in the centre of her living room. 'Respected Mr Gates, Ms Myers, other members of the Gates foundation delegation, MLA Ojha, eminent people from Dumraon, students and staff of the bsrav0 Dumraon Royal School...' 'You know what?' Riya interrupted me. 'What?'

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