THE GIRL IN ROOM 105

HARPER LEE: GO SET A WATCHMAN, published by William Heinemann, London.

"... long looks at each other on the post office steps ..." (page 15 on My copy of the novel)

reminds Me of the post office steps of the large Bombay GPO building on which I stood many years ago, regally surveying the scene with secret amusement, exchanging swift reassuring amorous glances with s. "hippy" Ms. Z (Mary?), to give her the silent message that I was having great fun crushing f. Nazis. - G

FAKE Nazi "doctor" "স্বপন" - the same voice as the voice of f. Dr. Wilfred Funk/HITLER.

G

Nazi "Amit" আবার - once again - রূপ পরিবর্তন করেছে নাকি? কত আর পালিয়ে থাকবে? The game is up.

G

THE GIRL IN ROOM 105

Chetan Bhagat: THE GIRL IN ROOM 105, W (Westland); ₹ 199

Excerpts:

She stood on the left podium. Her upright posture made her look taller than her five feet three inches. She wore a white salwar kameez, and a fuchsia [?] dupatta with silver piping [?]. I should have focused on her debating skills rather than her attire. However, even her debate opponent paused for a few seconds to take in Zara's stunning, model-like looks.

Zara Lone was debating against Inder Das, the reigning champion from Hindu College. Both had reached the finals of Clash of the Titans.

The packed hall was waiting for the duo to make their final rebuttals.

Inder, with his loose kurta, curly hair and rimless glasses, looked like he had walked out of a Bengali art film.

Zero decibel silence in the hall.

(Pages 8-9)

[Inspector Rana said] 'Saurabh, you don't have to come anymore. Happy?'

Saurabh's face lit up with joy, like a prisoner released after three decades in jail.

(page 82)

[Odd coincidence:

1971 + 30 = 2001

2019 - 2001 = 18

The name of Naz. "son" [Naz. "baby" was exchanged with another baby in a criminal Naz. nursing home of Guwahati?] of My Naz. "brother-in-law" GAURI SHANKAR Singha "Choudhury" is SAURAV Sinha Choudhury, a "young" class X student. Reborn - reincarnation?

My wife Swarna LAKSHMI (Naz.?) calls him "DHONI". I asked her recently WHY she calls him "DHONI". She gave Me some vague answer which did NOT convince Me. Recent news about "M. S. Dhoni" makes Me suspect that something FISHY is going on.

FAKE "Kargil war" 20 years ago in 1999 (28 years after 1971; 1999 -1971 = 28 years, about 30 years; cf. "three decades in jail") - MASS MURDER of LAKHS of poor Indians and Pakistanis on both sides of the border in fake Kargil war in 1999 - GUNNED DOWN BY ARTILLERY AND BY BOMBS DROPPED FROM THE AIR BY NAZI CRIMINALS of India and Pakistan - Nazi M.S. Dhoni - war criminal - escaped - changed himself into a baby and got "reborn" in about 2003 - now "DHONI" is a "young boy" of age about "16 years" (2019 - 2003 = 16). [All Nazi criminals have clones.] - G

***

Excerpts (continued):

He saw her lying in bed.

'She's sleeping?' he whispered. 'You haven't woken her up yet?'

'She's dead,' I said.

'What?' he screamed.

'Keep it quiet. It's a girls' hostel. Male voices should not be heard here.'

'Screw the male voice, bhai. What the hell are you talking about?'

I grabbed him by the neck and covered his mouth with my hand. He groaned.

***

'Please, keep quiet,' I said. 'You are freaking me out. Quiet, understood?'

I released my grip.

'Are you sure?' Saurabh said. 'Maybe she isn't well.'

'She's gone. Her body feels like ice. She isn't breathing.'

'How did she die?' he whispered.

'How the hell do I know? This is how I found her.'

'But she just messaged to you.'

'Yeah,' I said. I opened my phone again. Yes, this wasn't a dream. I had her messages. She missed me and wanted me to wish her in person. I sat down on Zara's study chair. I examined her face, as calm as a sleeping baby's... the shock of it all meant I couldn't feel any pain.

'What do we do?'

'No clue,' I said, 'but sit down, please. You pacing is making me nervous.'

'I am so scared,' Saurabh said. I felt fear too. But I couldn't have a meltdown like him. Someone had to think.

'I have never seen a dead body before,' Saurabh said, as if I hung out with corpses all the time. 'Bhai, do something.'

'Shut up, Saurabh. I am thinking what to do. Do you have any ideas?'

'No, bhai. We should have never come here. We were happy at the booze party in our apartment. I said before itself that it is a terrible idea ...'

He continued to rant, jamming my thoughts. I wanted to slap him, but couldn't. Yes, he had tried to stop me from coming to her room, so I let him vent for five minutes. After that, more out of exhaustion than anything else, he sat on the wooden easy chair in the room.

'We have to inform someone,' I said. 'We have no choice.'

'How?' Saurabh said. 'What do we say we are doing here? In a girls' room. At this time in the morning. With the occupant dead.'

'So what do we do? Run away?'

'Maybe. It's still dark. Let's leave the same way we came and vanish.'

I considered the idea. We sneak out, go back home, and pretend this never happened. However, something didn't seem right about that option.

'How did she die?' I said.

'What?'

'How did Zara die? She was alive an hour ago. Healthy.'

'I don't care, bhai. Right now, we need to get out. Fast.'

'She wasn't sick.'

'Yeah, so?'

'Someone killed her,' I said.

Saurabh sprang up from his chair.

'What?' he said. 'We are at a murder scene? Let's leave, bhai. Now.' He went to the window.

'We can't leave like this, Golu. Sit down, please. Let's think through this.'

With heavy steps he went back to the easy chair.

'Why stay? So people eventually find us? And assume we did it?' he said.

'If we run away, they will definitely think we did it.'

'How will they even know we came here?' Saurabh said, wiping sweat off his face. 'It's still dark outside. Let's go.'

'You don't understand. This is big. A PhD student murdered in an IIT hostel. Not only the insti, but the entire police and media will be all over this one.'

'So?' Saurabh clasped the armrests of the easy chair tight.

'So they will dig.'

'Anyone could have done it. There are over a thousand students on the campus alone... Bhai, what is going on? Some Crime Patrol shit?' he said and stood up. 'Can't we leave? I really want to leave.'

'We can't, Golu.'

'Our lives will be ruined.'

'No, Golu. If we flee, then we are ruined.'

'So what do we do?'

'We stay and say the truth.'

'That we drank a bottle of whisky, chose to ride drunk, dodged a cop, showed an invalid ID to the institute guard and climbed up into the girls' hostel late at night. Are you insane, bhai?'

'Those are bad things, yes. But that doesn't make us murderers.'

'Murderers?' Saurabh squeaked. 'How can you even say that word? We haven't done anything.'

'I know. That's why we need to stay. Now, who do we call first?'

I took out my phone.

'Are you sure, bhai? You are not exactly having the best ideas today.'

'If you want to leave, Saurabh, you can,' I said. He didn't have to be a part of this mess.

'I didn't say that, bhai.'

'I mean it. Whatever happens, there is going to be some trouble. You don't have to be here.'

'Didn't we decide at our booze party that whatever we do, we do together?' he said. I looked at him. In some ways, having a best friend is way more important than having a lover.

'I love you, man,' I said.

'Me too, bhai. Who are you calling?'

'Her parents, her boyfriend or the police. These are the choices.'

'Should we just walk down? We can find the watchman and tell him everything. Let him make the calls.'

I let out a huge breath. He did make sense.

'Not a bad idea. But,' I paused.

'But what?'

'But if we don't call these people ourselves, they will find out we were here and never stop suspecting us. Let's call them first and then go to the watchman.'

'I have never called the police in my life,' Saurabh said.

'Same here. I'll call the police last.'

'Parents?'

'That will be hard too. Let me call that Raghu first.'

'You have his number?'

'Yeah,' I said.

He had called me a few times before, to tell me to stay away from Zara. I had saved his contact, to have some way of reaching Zara in case she blocked me. I checked the time. It was 3:36. I dialled his number.  The phone rang. Nobody picked up. Eventually, I heard a service message in Telugu, perhaps telling me that the person could not be reached. I tried again. No  response.

'Seems to be sleeping,' I said.

'Call her dad,' Saurabh said.

I dialled Safdar Lone's number. What would I say to him, I wondered. Hi, uncle, sorry to bother you. It's me. Remember you said to stay away from your daughter? Well, I am in her room. Oh, and by the way, she is dead.

'Yes?' Safdar said, his voice sleepy and angry at the same time.

'Uncle, it's me.'

'I know. Have you seen the time?'

'3:38, uncle.'

'What do you want?' he said.

'Uncle, Zara ...'

'You need to forget about Zara. I thought I made this clear years ago. Are you drunk again?'

I was drunk, sort of. Most of my high had vanished, though.

'Uncle, please listen to me, it's important,' I said, trying to collect my thoughts.

'What?'

I couldn't break the news.

'Can you please come to Zara's hostel? Now.'

'What? Why?'

'Please. It's important. Come right now. I am here.'

'Wha ...'

I cut the call. I don't know why, but speaking to her father made everything more real. Zara had died. Gone. No, I couldn't go to pieces. Not right now. I had more calls to make.

'Police,' I said out loud, 'what's their number?'

'100?' Saurabh said.

'That's the general number. Should we call the local police station?'

'You mean the same guys who just chased us?' Saurabh said.

****

'Shut up,' I said. I Googled the Hauz Khas police station number on my phone and called them.

Someone picked up after five rings.

'Hauz Khas police,' a tired voice said on the other side.

'We are calling to report a crime,' I said.

Saurabh looked at me with a worried expression.

'Where are you calling from?'

'IIT Delhi. Himadri hostel. Room 105,' I said.

'Nature of crime?' the voice said in a monotonous tone.

'Murder. Of a student.'

I heard something drop at the other end.

'Who is speaking?' the voice said, now alert.

'This is Keshav Rajpurohit. I will be waiting here for you. At the entrance of Himadri hostel, IIT Delhi.'

'Who's the victim and what's your relationship?'

'Zara Lone. I am her friend and an ex-student. I am her friend and an ex-student.'

'Please stay there. We are sending a team,' the voice said, briskly.

I ended the call. Saurabh and I looked at each other.

'Let's wait downstairs?' Saurabh said. He just wanted to be out of the room, and away from the dead body.

'Yeah,' I said. I stood up and opened the door to the dark and empty corridor outside. Saurabh walked out of the room. I remained inside

'What? Let's go,' Saurabh said.

'Wait. Just one minute,' I said, turning back. I walked up to her bed. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. A teardrop fell on her cold face.

'Happy birthday, Zara. I love you.' [Weird. - G]

Zara remained still.

'Bhai,' Saurabh said and knocked on the door, 'let's go.'

'Coming,' I said. I straightened up, looked at her one more time, and then left the room.

***

A melodramatic quasi romantic murder mystery thriller.

Hero: K

Heroine: Zara Lone, IIT Ph. D. student (K finds her dead in her  hostel room on her birthday)

Cf. I was a UIUC Ph. D. student and stayed in a single room at UIUC dormitory (hostel).

UIUC = University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, USA, a top US university. (I was given a Ph.D. scholarship by UIUC.)

*** Read My entertaining real life short story CYNTHIA which was published many years ago in melange, The Sentinel Sunday English magazine published from Guwahati, which I later typed on My PC and posted online many years ago (minus the very funny caricatures in the magazine which illustrated My amusing short story, perhaps the world's most famous short story - a 100% factual story; there was a factual error in the funny CARTOONS, however - the UIUC architecture girl student Cynthia was shown wearing a sari, obviously an error; I may point out that I never met the mysterious Cynthia, I only read the following messages written successively on the message pad on the door of her hostel room shared by her with another girl student of UIUC (her room was opposite My single room in the UIUC multi-storey dormitory [or hostel] for A.M./M.S./Ph. D. students of UIUC. I discovered from UIUIC telephone directory kept in every room of the UIUC hostel that Cynthia Katherine Hammonds was an A.M. [M.A] student of architecture at UIUC. It seems to Me now that her name was a FAKE name and that she was probably a top Nazi honeytrap the Nazis had engaged to trap Me and spy on Me; her fake name suggests that she could have been the "reincarnation" of the Russian Tsarina Catherine. If she was a Nazi honeytrap and spy/double agent, she failed miserably with Me):

Oops!

After all, I suffered for you [You] today.

Don't forget your keys!

[My consort यानि wife यानि My धर्मपत्नी maintains that she must have written "KISS", not "KEYS". She should have known that I never lie. - G]

I bought the novel in December last year, on December 1, 2018, to be precise.

I gave a sweet young intelligent teenage girl (a daughter of a cousin brother) a voluntary (free) CRASH course in high school class X mathematics and science after her class X selection test because I felt very sorry that although she was an intelligent and hard-working student and was very strong in IT or computer science, she had got poor marks in mathematics and science (she got 48 in mathematics on her pre-test exam and 63 in mathematics on her selection test). I felt very happy that in the State high school final exam [which was held in February-March of this year (2019); the results were declared on May 15, 2019], she got 98% in mathematics and 95% in science (besides 80% or more in all other subjects). She did Me proud. (She got 98% in IT/computer science which she had studied on her own.) I have posted this very inspiring real life story as PROOF that no student is born "weak" in mathematics or any other subject and he/she can get good marks (without copying) if he/she can get A Good Guide and works hard. See the related film DAYALU दयालु (dubbed in Hindi), which is available on YouTube. (There are TWO versions of the film: one was released in September 2018, and the new version with new characters was released in July 2019.)

Kishalay Sinha কিশলয় সিনহা किशलय सिन्हा जी [G] 

420 ব্রাহ্মণের দল - followers of f. Nazi boss f. Satan/Brahma/Peter V. K. Funk/"hippy" Y/BM SURAJ.

G

*** Cynthia means: moon চাঁদ জোন चांद (यानि चन्द्रमा)

"চাঁদেরও কলঙ্ক [यानि कलंक यानि stigma or stain] আছে" - Bengali proverb. ["यानि" जी, "योनि" नहीं - बुरा मत सोचो जी ...]

G

You will find on YouTube brief summaries and book reviews of novelist Chetan Bhagat's novel THE GIRL IN ROOM 209 - an "unlove" story.

Kishalay Sinha কিশলয় সিনহা किशलय सिन्हा जी [G] 

I think God should abandon this mean sordid world and go back to His many sweet heavenly Queens and let sleeping dogs lie and not upset the status quo on and inside this lowly, crass, uncultured planet.

Why interfere with f. dogs and birches?

G