SECOND CHANCE

03
The Letter

IT WAS THURSDAY. Shekhar was talking on the phone in his office, not sitting on the chair but on the desk. He felt excited; the construction of the new plant was going well. He put the receiver back and walked around in the office.

After half an hour, Shekhar had his nose dug in a file. He had been planning to expand his business for years, and finally he’d taken the brave step. It would give his business new heights and no one, not only in India but in the whole of Asia, would be his competitor. You were wrong, Dad. I am successful and running the business better than you, Shekhar thought. He couldn’t tolerate failure; it reminded him of his father’s angry words ‘You’d do nothing in your life. You’d be a failure.’ Shekhar had proved him wrong. Now Aerowalk’s growth rate was much better as compared to the growth rate when his father was the chairman.

Shekhar put the file on the desk and looked for another one in the pile of files. While rummaging the files, he found something unusual—an envelope. The envelope was pearly white. He licked his lower lip, pulled out the envelope sandwiched between files and saw two green words on the white envelope--Second Warning. He thought, is it a prank? But then he remembered that the First Warning didn’t look like a prank. He flipped the envelope; there was nothing except the words Second Warning.

Shekhar opened the envelope and pulled out a soft silk-like paper, and as he did it, he felt the air in his office turn into a melancholic energy. He felt something above him, he looked up and what he saw astonished him. He was caught unaware, his eyes bulged and his mouth was half-open. There were dark clouds inside his office, just a few feet above his head. How is this possible? Shekhar thought. He looked at the silk-paper. There was something written on the paper in the green shimmering ink. It read:

Mr. Shekhar Balraj Kapoor,
You are being informed that you are not stopping your wrongdoings despite getting the first warning. Stop it or it will land you in trouble. This is your second message; we hope you will not give us a reason to send you the third and final message.
Thank you
City of Justice

Eyes bulging, Shekhar kept staring at the letter. The vivid images of the phone call and swirling clouds flashed in his mind. The excitement he was feeling till a few seconds ago evaporated and now he felt like everything was shrouded in a fog of unknown fear. He looked up and the clouds above his head started to spin. Shekhar gasped.

Am I going mad? How is this possible? He thought.

The confusion in Shekhar’s head turned into anger, anger for something he could not understand.

He looked at the word Second Warning on the envelope, and as he looked deeper, the word warning did a devil dance. He forcibly blinked and looked at the word again; it was lifeless, completely still.

How can a word dance? Am I a fool for thinking so?

Shekhar felt anger coupled with fear. He eyed the letter, looked at the green words, and tore the letter into four pieces and threw them on his desk. The torn pieces of paper caught fire out of nothing and burned in a blue-green flame like flash paper. Shekhar gaped. The clouds above his head spun and dissolved in the flames of the burning letter. A few seconds later, there was nothing unusual, no cloud, no fumes and no ashes in his office; nothing except the white envelope.

Shekhar inhaled; there was no smell in the office. He threw the envelope in the drawer. He had a throbbing headache and he grabbed his head. Shekhar thought his head was going to explode. He took out a Saridon and swallowed it with a glass of water.

After five minutes, Shekhar called the peon and asked, ‘Any letter for me?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Today, yesterday, day before yesterday... anytime?’

‘Sir, I haven’t seen a letter in a long time,’ retorted the peon.

‘Okay,’ Shekhar said.

After ten minutes, Shekhar forced the file shut, stood up and began walking in his office. He could not concentrate on anything. He was reluctantly brooding over the letter and the phone call.

In the evening, Shekhar, holding a file in his right hand, came out of his office and entered the Planning Department. His employees stood up and greeted him. Shekhar’s chest heaved in pride. He had called the representatives of all the departments. He went to the podium and glanced at everyone.

‘May I have your attention, please?’ Shekhar said. Fifty pairs of eyes were on him.

‘Today, I’m glad to announce that we’re the manufacturer of the highest selling footwear in India. Last year we were second. It could’ve been five consecutive years for us at the top position if Feetland hadn’t gotten ahead of us last year.’

Shekhar’s eyes fell on a curvy woman, probably in her thirties, perhaps she was Anushka. Doggy Style, he thought. He again looked at the file in his hand, he said ‘Unlike last year, we’re leading the market and this year, Aerowalk would be in Business World magazine. Just like every year, our most selling shoe is Comphee.’
Everyone clapped; Unnati did it clumsily while Kailash seemed much energetic.

‘Soon, our new factory would be functional and there would be no one competing with us,’ Shekhar said. ‘Our trimester report shows wonderful growth. Congratulations to all of you.’

As soon as Shekhar said that, he saw a huge ‘W’ over his employees’ head who were listening to him. His mouth fell open and, as soon as he realised his reaction, he controlled it and the ‘W’ dissolved in the air.

W for warning…? Shekhar thought.

- -

Friday morning, Shekhar drove the Cadillac towards Aerowalk; he turned right and saw five kids doing something near a pit. He slowed down. The kids were throwing a rope in a pit. Curious, Shekhar halted the sedan, got out and went towards the kids and saw that they were trying to save a white puppy, which had accidentally fallen in a five-foot deep garbage pit. Shekhar felt something rare; he didn’t know whether it was pity or love for the little puppy. He took off his coat, rolled his sleeves and, without thinking further, slowly jumped into the pit. The pup got scared and hid itself behind a heap of garbage. Shekhar fondled the puppy and heaved it up in his arms. ‘Relax, you’re safe, buddy’, muttered Shekhar, as he kissed the air and handed over the puppy to a kid. The kids ran away taking the puppy and named it Jarvis. Shekhar smiled, put his right foot on a rock embedded in the side of the pit and heaved himself up. However, his shoe slipped on the stone and he almost fell and, while trying to protect himself from falling, he got abrasion on his left palm. He placed his foot again on another rock, with the sole of his shoe torn and dangling. ‘Holy shit’ muttered Shekhar and heaved himself out of the pit. I’m already late for the video conference with the clients.

Shekhar hurried to the sedan, wore his coat, and drove towards Aerowalk. Ten minutes later, he saw a cobbler repairing shoes under the shade of an umbrella and halted the Cadillac. It won’t be a good idea to go to Aerowalk in a torn shoe. After all, I’m the owner of a shoe company.

Shekhar parked the sedan on the side of the road and got out of the Cadillac and went to the cobbler, who looked poverty-stricken. He was a skinny man with a long, shabby beard and mangled hair.

‘Can you repair this?’ Shekhar asked the cobbler, lifting his foot up.

The cobbler kept looking at him unblinkingly and gave no answer.

‘Hey! Can you repair this?’ Shekhar asked, this time louder and ruder.

The cobbler blinked and looked at Shekhar and nodded and held out his hand to take the shoe. Shekhar removed the right shoe and slid it towards the cobbler. The skinny cobbler picked up the shoe and examined it for one minute and said, ‘Is this Italian leather?’

Shekhar looked at him and nodded.

‘It will take half an hour,’ the cobbler said, his voice soft.

‘No, I’m in a hurry,’ Shekhar said. ‘It must take five minutes, max.’

‘Sir, this is Italian leather and I need at least thirty minutes to stitch it properly.’

Shekhar looked at other shoes, some of them were there for repair and some of them were new; the cobbler had stitched them to sell.

‘Okay, I don’t have that much time,’ Shekhar said. ‘Umm, give me that new one.’ He pointed towards a pair of brown leather shoes.

The skinny man looked at Shekhar’s feet and gave him shoes of his size in the same pattern Shekhar had wanted. Shekhar slipped them on and it was a perfect fit for him.

‘Repair them; I’ll take them in the evening.’ Shekhar said.

The cobbler nodded, ‘Okay, sir.’

‘How much?’

‘700/-.’

Shekhar gave him seven hundred rupees and got in the sedan and left. He felt that the shoes were quite comfortable. These types of shoes that Aerowalk manufactured were sold in the range of 2500/- to 5500/- rupees. He was impressed with both the fitting and comfort, which was rare.

He drove towards Aerowalk. The Cadillac passed by a sprawling piece of land worth rupees two hundred crore. This enormous piece of land belongs to me, Shekhar lifted his head high in pride. He had bought the piece of land two years ago and, since then, he had showed it to everyone who did business with him. Just next to the piece of land was a ruined building. Shekhar hated this dilapidated structure that had diminished the value and beauty of his property. The structure had a display board on the roof that read ‘Helping Hands’. He had often seen some people in this ruin.

Such useless people, they have nothing to do, hence they do this charity to pass their time. Shekhar smiled condescendingly. According to him, people who gave money or anything else to beggars made them idle and lazy. He knew many such people who did business with him; the fools spent their time and hard-earned money on idle people and helped them cultivate the habit of eating without working. He never told any of his business partners but every time he saw them, he laughed at them.  

- -

The video conference with his client went well and the demand was already rising.
In his office, after looking in his mother’s deep set eyes in the garlanded framed photograph and feeling a knot in his throat, Shekhar sat on his bucket chair and began reading the Times of India.

US President visits India next month.  Our Prime Minister says this meeting would improve relationships along with business between both the countries.
It was a suicide… Meera Upadhyay, wife of Ashutosh Upadhyay was found dead, hanging in her bedroom, nine months ago. Doctors had sent viscera for chemical analysis and no toxic chemical was found in her body. The doctor told our reporter that it was a suicidal hanging. Investigating officer closed the case after getting the report.

The mysterious phone call and the burning pieces of letter flashed in his mind. Shekhar threw the newspaper on the desk and shifted his position in the chair.
Shekhar eyed his shoes, thought for a moment and rang the bell. The peon came at threshold. ‘Bring in the first aid box,’ Shekhar said and removed his shoes. ‘Give these shoes to Mr. Malhotra and tell him to give me its report, and get a new pair of shoes for me.’

The peon picked up the pair of shoes and went back. After fifteen minutes, the peon came back with a pair of new shoes and the first aid box. ‘Sir, anything else?’

Shekhar shook his head. ‘You can go.’ The peon retired.

Shekhar cleaned the abrasion on his left palm with Savlon and then applied a Band-Aid.

After half an hour, he, wearing his new shoes, was doing work in his office but he found himself unable to concentrate. Could it be a prank? Shekhar thought. He was unable to work because of these thoughts. Whenever he had felt depressed or bored, he did something unusual. Even the thought of doing that made him smile. He stood and walked towards the door and peeked out; there was no one there except the peon, who was looking in the other direction. Shekhar slowly closed the door, locked it and drew all the curtains of his office. He went to his desk, unlocked the lower drawer, took out a DVD, headed towards the DVD player and inserted the disc. He went back to sit and, instead of sitting on the chair or the sofa, he sat on his desk, legs hanging. The flat screen television started playing credits.

He was holding the remote in his hand; in case anyone knocked, he could switch to football, boxing or a news channel. His eyes were fixed on the TV screen, which now showed large pink words with music--Pink Panther. Shekhar Kapoor, the chairman of Aerowalk, was secretly watching a cartoon in his confined office with a pleasant expression on his face.

Even at this age, he laughed like a child with a strange glow on his face while watching the cartoon and it was the only time when he laughed. If any of his employees saw him at this moment, they would not recognize him.

Absorbed in the cartoon, he tried to keep his laugh low. With a grin on his face, he was watching the cartoon when, suddenly, there was a knock on his door which startled him and he accidentally dropped the TV remote on the floor. Leaping from the desk, he picked up the remote and, like a child who had broken a jar of sweets just as his mother came, he switched to a news channel and went to open the door, gasping. What would people think if they got to know that the chairman of Aerowalk secretly watches cartoons? Besides being frightened, he was angry as well as he was interrupted while watching his favourite thing.

The certain someone still kept knocking at the door hard, as if they were trying to break it. Shekhar wondered who in Aerowalk had the guts to bang his door so hard. Unlocking the door, he twisted the knob and opened the door; before him a very stunning girl in pink salwar kameez was standing. She was enraged and, perhaps, it was for this reason that she was looking even more attractive. She was fair with bright shiny black eyes, a pointed nose, a cute chin, soft and naturally rosy cheeks, and a lean, attractive body with alluring curves.

Standing surprised like a statue, Shekhar kept staring at her with amazement. He was not expecting her as she never came to his office until she was called for. She was Unnati Sharma. Shekhar forgot all about his anger and the interruption in his cartoon watching.

- -

Unnati came in. ‘You promoted Hrishita?’  She said, sounding enraged.

Unnati looked at Shekhar, who was standing like a statue. She cleared her throat. He blinked. She repeated, ‘You promoted Hrishita?’ 

‘Yes,’ Shekhar nodded.

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m the boss.’

‘I’ve been here for four years and she hasn’t even completed her first week,’ she said.

He returned to his chair and said, ‘She is a talented girl.’

‘Talented?!!’ Unnati said. ‘She even doesn’t know how many departments there are in the company, she doesn’t know our turnover, she doesn’t know our peak season, and she doesn’t even know how old the company is. And you called her talented?’

‘What do you want?’

‘I want my promotion.’

‘Okay, take it,’ Shekhar said. ‘I am offering you double salary.’

She smiled, after four years of hard work, she was about to get her promotion. She never thought her boss would promote her so easily. She never liked Shekhar Kapoor but she didn’t really know why. Perhaps she could see his inflated ego, perhaps he seemed rude, or perhaps she didn’t like what she saw in his eyes—a hunger.

‘You are promoted,’ Shekhar said, ‘to the position of my Personal Secretary.’
Her smile faded. Personal Secretary?

‘You’ll get your promotion letter in half an hour.’

‘No, I don’t want to be your secretary. I want my promotion!’

'Why not? You’ll get double the salary.’

‘No, not secretary, I want my promotion.’

‘I have only one place,’ Shekhar said. ‘And it’s only my PS. Now you can decide whether you want it or not.’

She felt her breathing escalate and said, ‘Then how come Hrishita got promoted?’

‘I’m the boss,’ Shekhar said. ‘I put the right person at the right place, so she got the promotion. Your right place is vacant but you don’t want to work at that position.’

Somewhere, she had known what was going to happen. ‘I want my promotion…’ she muttered. She was simmering with anger but was controlling herself.

Shekhar shrugged. ‘In that case, I can’t help you.’

Fuck off, she thought, and left the office hastily and banged the door as she exited.
Unnati was only earning member among her three family members. She had understood her responsibilities in her childhood itself. Her father, who was a raging alcoholic, beat her and her mother for money, just to savour gambling and drown himself in alcohol. Once when she had tried to save her mother from her father’s brutality, she had fractured her arm.

Unnati reached her desk, threw her wallet on the desk and sank into the chair.

‘You look like a wounded tigress,’ her friend Chhaya said.

‘That son of the bitch offered me the post of his personal secretary.’

‘Offer doesn’t look bad,’ Chhaya said. ‘Salary?’

‘Double.’

‘That’s good. What’s the problem then?’

‘I’m no piece of art to be put on display,’ Unnati said. ‘I can’t bear his hungry eyes on
me.’

‘Why didn’t he offer me that?’ Chhaya smiled.

‘You know,’ Unnati said. ‘That bitch Hrishita got promoted.’

Chhaya looked at Hrishita working in the last cubicle. ‘How?’ Chhaya asked.
‘You are intelligent enough,’ Unnati said. ‘You can understand exactly how.’

- -

Kailash entered Mr. Kapoor’s office with a firm intention as Manish exited, flashing a fake smile at him. Kailash couldn’t smile back. He was preoccupied with the talk he had planned in his head.

The black phone kept on Shekhar’s desk rang. He picked up the receiver.

Shekhar glared at Kailash and spoke in phone, ‘Who’re they?’

‘Helping Hands? Throw them out.’ Shekhar said, looking at Kailash. Shekhar threw the receiver on the cradle and glared at Kailash, who had entered without permission.

‘Sir, I want to talk to you,’ Kailash said, his heart racing.

Shekhar leaned back on his chair and folded his arms.

‘S…sir, I…’ he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

Shekhar looked at him and said in rigid tone, ‘Do you want to quit?’     

‘No… no, sir.’

‘Then?’

‘Sir,’ Kailash stood hesitant, his firm intention weakening. ‘Sir, m…my daughter’s wedding…’

‘Congratulations,’ Shekhar said, staring at him.

‘S….sir,’ stammered Kailash. ‘I need money.’

‘Didn’t you get your salary this month?’ Shekhar asked, spinning the paperweight on the table.

‘I got it,’ Kailash said, ‘but, sir, I need more money for my daughter’s wedding.’

‘I pay you for your work, not for the weddings in your family.’

‘Sir, my demotion reduced my salary ten times.’ Kailash said. ‘I have no money left for my daughter’s wedding. I am in debt. I need money, sir, I desperately need it.’

Shekhar stopped the whirling paperweight and sneered at him. ‘Are you blaming me for your demotion?’

‘No, sir…’

‘So you think I should give everyone extra money for their sisters’ and daughters’ marriages.’

‘But, sir, I haven’t gotten a bonus in a long time.’

‘You received no bonus, you were demoted, but you were not terminated. Old men like you are worthless. I’m still paying you for no reason and you’re not even grateful. My father was an idiot who promoted you to the post of the General Manager. Tell me, what exactly do I pay you for?’

‘Sir, I can do everything, but…’ Kailash said.

‘But…?’ Shekhar asked. ‘What?’

‘You don’t allow me to work.’

‘Oh, so now it’s my fault?’

‘No… no, sir, I didn’t mean that,’ Kailash wiped the sweat on his palm with his trousers. ‘Sir, I can do everything.’

‘So?’

‘Sir, I… I mean to say that I can undertake many other responsibilities rather than just transferring files from table to table.’

Shekhar looked at him, smiled cruelly and said, ‘Okay, then go and make one cup coffee for me.’

‘But, sir?’

‘Yes?’

‘I didn’t mean this kind of work.’

‘Then, Mr. Kailash Chandra, what do you mean by other responsibilities?’ Shekhar
leaned forward in his chair.

‘Sir, I’ve been working here for thirty years and…’

‘I didn’t ask for your bio-data’ Shekhar yelled.

‘Sir, you can give me any other work.’ strained Kailash to speak audibly.

‘Means you don’t want to make coffee?’ Shekhar asked.

‘N…no, sir.’

‘May I please ask you,’ Shekhar said, ‘what special work you want me to assign to you?’

‘Sir, I’m good in R&D, I can do that.’

‘When people get old, they become weak,’ Shekhar said. ‘How would you manage to do this?’

‘Sir, I will be able to manage.’ Kailash said, feeling a hope of getting desired work.

Shekhar scratched his beard. ‘I believe a person who can’t make coffee can’t do anything.’

‘Sir, but I can make coffee.’

‘But you don’t want to?’

‘No, sir, I will make coffee.’

‘Okay, go and make it then.’

Kailash, feeling full of energy, quickly left the office and, after few minutes, returned with a cup of coffee. He served coffee to Shekhar and stood before him, excited.

Shekhar sipped the coffee twice and said, ‘Nice coffee. It’s a nice cup of coffee. From now on, your work is to serve me three cups of coffee a day.’

‘S…sir, but R&D?’ asked Kailash.

‘I said,’ shouted Shekhar ‘your work is to serve me coffee.’

‘But, sir?’

‘What happened?’ Shekhar cried. ‘Have you gotten another job?’

Kailash stood, unable to say a word.

‘Leave.’ Shekhar said.

Already in debt due to his wife’s bypass surgery, Kailash desperately needed money and this was his last hope. He had fixed his daughter’s wedding with the expectation that he would arrange the money somehow, but the scheduled date was approaching and he had no money. Every week, loan sharks came to his house to threaten him to repay the debt or vacate the house he was living in.

Kailash left the office wordlessly, his wrinkled face was sad; his old hopeless eyes housed in them a dying fire. Feeling a pang of fear of uncertainty about the wedding, his knees trembled. Losing all hope, his heart sank. He did not like to work like a servant in a company where he had once been the General Manager. Even though he now was reduced to making coffee for others, he could do this all his life if he got the money for his beloved daughter’s wedding. Perhaps, somewhere in his head, Kailash had already known Shekhar’s answer, but for his daughter’s sake, he had tried.

He plodded to his desk and sank in his chair.

                       *** 
                         5
Page     1     2     3     4     5     6     7  
If you want to read the book on your Android phone, first download "Amazon kindle app" from google play and purchase the e-book from amazon. It will appear in your kindle app, open the book in the app and enjoy it with a cup of coffee.
Proudly powered by Weebly