Book Excerpt of Sumit’s story: The Fortune teller

Our relationship started in the IIT campus one day, after our early-morning jalebi and chai, my girlfriend and I found a palm reader roaming around the campus. Out of sheer curiosity, we sat down next to him on the sidewalk and talked to him. One thing led to another and he started reading our palms and telling us our future. He predicted that it was almost certain that my girlfriend would go abroad. In my case, he could not find a line that showed that I was going to leave India.

Caption: Published by Westland Publishers

The inevitable separation came after graduation. I pragmatically declared that I did not want to go to the US as I was sixteenth in my department and would not get a scholarship. The palm reader's prediction weighed in my mind. She topped her department and her dream college accepted her with full scholarship. There was no way anything would or should have stopped her from going.

I started working in Pune. She was in California. Her phone bills started piling up despite the friends-and-family discounts and the weekend calling. 'Pack your bags and come to the US or else', she warned me once. She often talked about an older Indian guy and a handsome Pakistani millionaire, and the frequent mention of their names convinced me that I had to act.

Applications, recommendations, essays. It was a nightmare to coordinate all these after leaving IIT. I got admission to a PhD programme. What was I going to do the PhD in? Who cared? All that mattered was that I had a piece of paper called the I-20 that outlined the terms of my admission and financial aid. It meant I could meet her soon.

I rushed to Kolkata. Paperwork in hand, I stood in the line for an F-1 visa at the Kolkata Consulate. I waited for my turn, heart pounding, thinking of the questions they would ask me, about whether I wanted to return to India, or would I stay back to burden Uncle Sam's coffers. As expected, the questions started flying and I rallied on with my answers. Then from nowhere came a question about an evening course in marketing management I was doing at an institution in Pune and the insinuation that the institute was fake. They just needed a reason, any reason those days.

Rejected! The sound of the stamp pad being inked and the inevitable thump on the passport could make the most determined heart miss a beat. I remembered the palm readers. Had he not predicted my destiny? My palm did not have that line. 

Amrita's story: Discovering a new world

It was not just about seeing and admiring art. In reality, when I entered IIT, I had been a simple girl from a small town with big dreams. I was quite one-dimensional when compared to my other high school friends, who went onto to study at St Stephens, Lady Shri Ram or Hindu College. These girls knew about authors, poets, artists and fashion labels and were confident about themselves.

In contrast, I had spent the previous four years studying for my class ten exams and then going through the usual rigmarole of tuitions, home tutorials and endless problem sets. I had no awareness about myself, and no confidence to speak about the world at large.

These Social Studies or Liberal Arts courses at IIT gave me the breadth that I had been lacking and the knowledge to discover my voice. During my business school days and afterwards, amid classmates and colleagues who had a global upbringing and eclectic passions, art and travel stood me in good stead.

It is funny how things turn out. I had always dreamed of writing. When I started writing short stories, trying to discover something unique to say and a distinctive way to express it, I thought of a thriller set in the world of Indian art. It was a fresh idea. Everything that I had learned and absorbed over years was there to be leveraged and repurposed. Combining that with fresh research, I wrote my first novel 'Faking It', an art crime thriller about a forged Amrita Shergill painting.

(See interview: Being more than a five-point someone )