Last Man in Tower - Aravind Adiga [51]
“In my experience, some older people oppose a redevelopment project because they are frightened of any kind of change. Some just want more money. And then there is one kind of person, the most dangerous, who says no because he is full of negative will power: because he does not enjoy life and does not want others to enjoy life. When these people speak, you must speak louder and clearer than they do. I will not forget it; I repay kindness with kindness of my own.”
The waiters, having removed the food, were now taking away the totemic bottle of Johnnie Walker.
“My father used to say,” Kothari cleared his voice, “my father … the one who was in Africa, he used to say, a man who lives for himself is no better than an animal. All my life I did nothing for anyone but myself. I even married late because I preferred to live alone. My wife is a good woman. She made me become the Secretary of Vishram: so I would do something for others. I am grateful for any … extra kindness you show me. But I cannot accept until I ask you this: what about everyone else in Vishram Society? Will you keep your word to them and pay each one his rightful share?”
Shah said nothing for a beat, then reached out and took the Secretary’s hand.
“I am honoured, Mr. Kothari, to be doing business with a man like you. Honoured. I understand why you are worried about me. Perfectly understand. In the old days, a builder in this city thought he could get rich only if he cheated his customers. He would cheat them as a matter of routine—on cement, on steel rods, on finishing. Every monsoon one of his buildings collapsed. Most of those you saw here today were old builders.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “They would strip you in a second if they were doing this redevelopment. But now there is a new builder in the city. We want to win, yes, but believe me, Mr. Kothari: we also want our customers to win. The more winning there is, the better; because we think Mumbai will again be one of the world’s great cities. Ask at any of my projects about Mr. Shah’s reputation. Find a single customer of mine who has a complaint. I am not one of the old builders of Mumbai.”
The Secretary sucked his lips and nodded. Satisfied.
Shah was still holding his hand; he felt the pressure grow.
“But I tell you one thing, Mr. Kothari. Old builder or new, the basic nature of my business has not changed. Do you know what a builder is?”
“A man who builds houses,” Kothari said, hoping his hand would be released.
“No. Architects build houses. Engineers build roads.”
Kothari turned around for help. Shanmugham was looking at the night sky; the birthday boy was jerking his right arm back and forth behind his head for some reason.
Shah held up a gold-ringed index finger.
“The builder is the one man in Bombay who never loses a fight.”
With this he let go of Kothari’s hand.
“Why were you gone so long?” Mrs. Kothari asked, as her husband joined her in bed. “People kept asking for you, but I didn’t tell anyone you were at the builder’s house.”
Saying the name of Lord Krishna three times, the Secretary switched off the bed lamp.
“Did his car drop you off? What is his home like? Gold fittings in the bathroom? Is there a jacuzzi?”
Her husband covered his face in the blanket and said nothing.
In the darkness he saw a flock of pink birds flying around him. He felt his father’s fingers pressing on his—and then all the wasted decades in between fell away, and they were together once again at the lake in Kenya.
Ashvin Kothari fell asleep with tears on his cheeks.
18 MAY
Like an army that had been coming closer for months and was now storming a citadel, they went into the Fountainhead and the Excelsior with bricks on their heads.
It was the final surge of work before the monsoons. Those day-labourers who had wilted in the heat and fled to their villages were replaced by those offloaded from buses at ever-rising cost: the day rate for men was now 370 rupees. Heat or no heat, humidity or no humidity, all the civil work—walls, floors, columns—must be done before the rains.
Once