“I think there is a lot we can do to improve the quality and quantity of research output from the institute. Our publications in top journals are really dismal compared to the number of people we have,” Rupali said at the yearly all-faculty meeting.

“US-returned syndrome,” Sameer Malhotra murmured under his breath, but he was sitting close enough for Rupali to hear this.

“Dr. Banerjee,” the director addressed her, “No doubt that we have to keep an eye on our research output, but the number of publications in the journals you are referring to may not be a good measure.”

“Why not?”

“Well, when you say top journals, most of them are American or European publications. And the peer review process is clearly biased against India and other developing countries.”

“I am afraid that we put too much blame on the biases and take too little responsibility ourselves. Something as simple as improving the language and coherence of the papers can overcome a lot of what we call biases.”

“What do you propose?”

“Apart from the more serious task of looking at the quality of research we are doing, we should start with a simpler task of making sure it is presented right when we submit the papers. A lot of editing for American and European academic publishers happens in India these days. There are qualified editors available who can give inputs on the quality of writing and even comment on the loopholes in the research presented. I think we should take help of such editors.”

“So, now, Dr. Banerjee wants us all to take English classes from some editors,” said one of the senior professors flippantly, “I am sure you did not do that to get your papers published in those journals when you were at NYU. Or did your advisor make sure that those issues were ignored for you because you were representing the great New York University?”

“My advisor made me sweat it out until I wrote things properly,” Rupali was not provoked and replied calmly, but firmly.

“Do you really think that writing the stuff the right way, whatever it is, will increase our acceptance rate?” the director was also annoyed, but he maintained his calm.

“That is one of simpler things to do. Of course, we have to look at the quality of research too. Isn’t it funny that the most active Indology research happens not at our institute, but at Cambridge or Oxford? I think we need to do more collaborative research. I can give examples for History. The latest genetics research can tell us a lot about the movement of humans in the prehistoric era. A lot of genetic data can be studied with the help of statistics. Why shouldn’t we join hands with genetics and statistics researchers and revisit theories like Aryan invasion or Aryan-Dravidian divides? There are a lot of questions that need answers and can be answered by inter-disciplinary research and use of modern technology.”

“Where will the funds come from?”

“Like it comes to all these universities in the world.”

“Easier said than done, Dr. Banerjee, in this country,” Sameer Malhotra spoke up, “All your genius research happened at the New York University. It is better if you speak on this after a year or so, when you have seen how things work here and how difficult it is for us.”

At least he addressed her as Dr. Banerjee, instead of Ms. Rupali, she thought inwardly.

“I agree, Dr. Malhotra!” someone else said and suddenly Rupali felt very angry. Paritosh was not in the meeting due to some other engagement.  But she remembered that he wanted her to stand up for herself.

“All right,” her voice was controlled, but her fury was impossible to miss, “One year is what I need. If there are even two people in my department, who think they can do more than blame the entire world for their miseries and they are willing to collaborate with me, I promise then we’d have at least four papers in the top ten history journals. Let’s talk at next year’s faculty meeting.” With that she got up and stormed out of the meeting room, leaving some people thoughtful, some baffled and some others angry at her impertinence in leaving the meeting without seeking the director’s permission.

—

Paritosh had called her in his office. He had not done so himself. He had asked Meher to inform her. It was unusual. He looked worried when she reached there.

“What happened? Is something wrong?” she asked apprehensively.

“What did you do in the faculty meeting today?” he replied with a question.

“What did I do? And who told you?” she was taken by surprise.

“The director called me. What had happened?”

“Nothing important, I think.”

“Tell me, Rupali. Everyone thinks you were very impertinent in the meeting.”

“I am sorry,” Rupali genuinely appeared so, “I… I didn’t realize it would become your problem.”

“Don’t test my patience. Speak now,” Paritosh sounded so stern that it transported her right back to her student days. ‘No. The class has already started and you may not disturb the rest of the class.’

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she got her bearings together and replied, “I was just giving my suggestion on how to improve the research output and publication numbers from the institute.”

“And you insulted senior faculty members?”

“I didn’t insult anybody. I was the one who was insulted.”

“Tell me what happened?” Paritosh said impatiently.

Rupali narrated the incident exactly as it had happened. By the end of it Paritosh had an amused smile on his face.

“What is so funny?” she felt irritated and could not hide it. A few minutes back he was behaving as if the sky had fallen, and now he was smiling.

“Nothing. But what were you thinking? Four papers in one year in the top ten journals.”

“One is down!”

“Excuse me?”

“I just got an acceptance e-mail from the Journal of Modern History.”

“Congratulations, Dr. Banerjee,” Paritosh was genuinely happy, all traces of anger, worry and even amusement had vanished from his countenance, “I am very proud of you.”

“Thank you. But–”

“Yeah. But– You can speak for yourself. But you do understand that even if you managed to get ten of your papers published, it isn’t going to get you much credibility with people here. They will still think it is the result of your NYU connections.”

“I know.“

“You need to apologize to the director.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong. I am not going to apologize for saying the right things.”

“You left the meeting without asking for director’s permission.”

“That is their problem?” Rupali looked incredulous.

“Yes. Listen to me, now. I am not asking you to apologize for anything else. I, personally, don’t think leaving the meeting was a big deal. But people here do give importance to such things. Pick you battles wisely. There is no point in fighting over petty things. So, send an e-mail to the director apologizing for leaving the meeting. You can inform him of your paper getting accepted in the same e-mail. And if that is not enough, you can also say that you still stand by what you had said about the research output. Will that keep you happy?”

“I will skip the last part. Let the results do the talking,” Rupali pouted while saying this, but she had seen Paritosh’ point.

“Good,” he smiled.

“And Rupali,” he interrupted just as she was about to leave.

“Yes Sir?”

“It is a good idea to stand up for yourself. You did well.”

She couldn’t contain her grin at that, “Thank you!”

“Now figure out how you are going to live up to the challenge.”

“Yes Sir,” she was suddenly feeling so happy and confident that even sky was not a limit for her.

—

To be continued