Do you see a person who can show her face back home?
The room is a thick with
buried emotions and brimming rage. Papers, screwed up into angry balls, lie
strewn about on the floor. Shyam’s gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his armchair
creaks as he rocks back and forth.
Shyam closes his eyes. His
mind goes back to the days he lived under the thumb of his father, the army
jawan - Colonel Amarjeet Manohar Jha.
Colonel Jha, for as long as
Shyam remembers him, is a man with hair parting so straight and so white, that
one might imagine he uses a ruler. His eyes are a bright brown, a special kind
of toughness emanates from him. The colonel has thick, beefy and hairy limbs
and a tongue as sharp as a pair of scissors.
The colonel is a strict,
uncompromising man, and it is a source of constant wonder to him how he
possibly could father a child like Shyam Jha.
Shyam looks at his published
titles, carelessly lodged against the wall. He notes the awards on the shelf.
Then he thinks of his father, who threw Shyam out of the house, declaring no
son of his could take up a pansy profession like writing.
Do you see a person who can show their face back home?
No, he couldn’t.
* * *
Akash sidesteps a puddle and
diligently walks towards the adress scribbled carelessly on a scrap of paper. This place is for the dogs Akash thinks,
as the occassional druggie raises his glazed eyes to him. Then he remembers why
he is here.
He would die rather than admit
it, but he was glad he and Khushi Gupta were working on the same side. It
really does pay, to have a person like her on your side.
He sidesteps yet another
puddle, and stops in front of the house. 99B announces the cardboard strip. He
walks to the door, and the door opens.
“I’m Akash, I’m here on behalf of Ms. Gupta, who had-” he announces, in a bored voice to the breathless woman.
“I know, I know” the woman says in a breathless voice. “I’m Anamika”
Akash stares coolly back at
the woman. “No you aren’t”
The woman straightens up with
some difficulty. “Excuse me?”
Akash stares back at the
woman. “Khushi asked me to check all
your records, and a very interesting fact popped up. That your name isn’t
Anamika. Payal, that’s what they call you, isn’t it?”
“You need to-”
“I don’t even care why you hid your name from Ms. Gupta.
All I care about is that I know your name, and you don’t want Khushi to know
your name. The way I see it, you have
a problem”
The shift in the air is
palpalable. She stares at the uncompromising man, with the ghost of a smile.“What do you want?”
“I want you to help me ruin this restaurant”
Akash face twists into a full
blown grin, when the woman stares at him, shocked.
The games hath begun.
* * *
A little crease on the smooth
brow indicates Arnav’s mental state. The secretary trembles at her fate. All of
Arnav’s plans to block the Gupta industries had been ripped to smithergreens,
by none other than Khushi Gupta. But his plans had been discreet, nobody but he
knew of them. Which meant there was a rat in the company.
Who?
“Leave” he orders
brusquely, and the secretary scurries. Arnav’s temper was not to be tested.
Arnav reaches for the phone, and hurriedly dials a number.
“Yes?”
“She’s more dangerous than I percieved. Get her out of
the way”
Problem solved. All he had to
do, was look for a white kurta, for the funeral.
_________________________________
And I’m
back!
A friend
of mine, who sat with me and listened to my rambles as the story was
conceptualized and the plot was formed, has a bit of an advice to give you.
This is totally her words, and honestly, they don’t even make sense to me.
“A
certified way to try and understand where the story is going, is to pay attention
to the people, as opposed to what they are saying.”
*hands
up* Like I said, don’t try to understand.
