Chapter 26
This was the start of my firsthand experience in office politics, experiencing meanness and cruelty from colleagues. I was on the verge of shedding a few tears but I had to control myself, considering the number of people who had witnessed a fun show at my expense. I held my head down in shame.
"Are you free, Abhilasha?" He stood next to me and asked while I contemplated on the meaning of his question.
"Busy as a bee."
"Great!" He gave me one of his horrendous looks. "I have some work for you. I need help in assisting me on a shoot while I interview Laxmi Charu Gupta."
"CEO of GRETA Bank."
"I am happy to know you know her."
"Oh, dude obviously," I spoke with enthusiasm. "What are you interviewing on her?"
"We can talk in the car. I am getting late for the interview."
"Sure."
He asked his cameraman to sit in front so that he could brief me on the interview. Agam was so precise and detailed that he gave me a very fair account of the entire situation that we were addressing with this story. It helped me to form my own opinion about the incident without much bias.
Laxmi Charu Gupta- the first lady CEO of GRETA bank was embroiled in a scandal. This had not only tarnished her reputation but created a sense of dejection in the shareholders and bank officials concerning her leadership skills. She had requested Agam to interview her while she presented her part of the story fairly before she was pronounced guilty of charges by the court.
"This is to avoid media trial?" I asked Agam.
"Her character has already been assassinated. There is nothing left of her to be put on trial."
I took a deep breath.
"What do you think, what's her story?" I asked him.
He took a few seconds to speak. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, to me, no to her," I told him with a smile.
"Guilty and yet innocent."
"What kind of an answer is this?"
"Precise and true to the core." His eyes were shining when he looked at me. His lips turned in an upward smile when he caught me staring. I turned away. The next few moments were so tensed that I wished we could fly to our destination and get over this awkwardness as soon as possible.
When we finally arrived at the GRETA Bank headquarters, we were so immersed in the interview at hand that what took precedence was only work and nothing else.
I helped the cameraman carry his equipment. Agam was busy manoeuvring his way around the swarm of people who were visiting an art gallery on the lawn of the building. Agam moved faster, turned back and asked us to see him on the 24th floor.
The cameraman and I were lousy and had a difficult time making our way to the elevator, stopping on multiple occasions to let other people pass before us.
"Sir, what is your name?" I asked him. I have been indicted of being impolite in making a conversation many times and therefore I decided to be the first one to break the ice.
"Sameer...," he hesitated, "Sameer Kocchar." He struggled with the equipment while trying to bring forward his hand for a shake.
"No need, sir." I helped him out of his awkwardness.
"Sure. Too tied up." He said it with so much humour that it made me split up.
When it was our turn to get on the elevator, the man at the elevator was haughty and kept on asking us to be careful, not hurting the other passengers. If I could, I would have hit him, hard, and then made a sorry excuse and gloated at it.
"Moron," I muttered.
Sameer laughed at my exasperation.
"Chill. This is common. You will get used to it. Time and space crunch is always an issue in this city. We just learn to adjust."
"Sure, we do. But it is this frigging nonsense from people that makes me lose my temper."
"Hmm." He nodded in understanding.
"Which city are you from?" He asked.
"Kolkata."
He rolled his eyes in amazement. "I love that city. My girlfriend is a Bengali and I have visited her many times." I was taken aback by his candid confession. Who declares their relationship status in two minutes of meeting a new person? Perhaps a secured and totally in love boyfriend. Or the one who is insecure of his own reaction around the other gender. I simply nodded.
"Where exactly did you stay in Kolkata? Can you speak Bangla?"
I decided to answer his questions the other way round.
"I can speak Bangla but not as fluently as the Bengalis would. But yes I can manage."
"And where do you stay?" He prodded.
"In central Kolkata."
"Oh near the markets and the Maidan."
"Yeah...pretty close to my house."
The elevator dinged indicating our arrival on the fifteenth floor. There was some more addition to the already travelling passengers and we were completely exhausted managing ourselves and the equipment. When the doors opened on the twenty-fourth, it was a total relief. I put down the tripod and the camera I was caring to flex my hands. Sameer went to the reception to enquire about the place of the interview. Agam was nowhere in sight but he seemed to have entered our details in the visitor's register as we weren't pressed to do it.
A visitor card was handed over to us and a peon called to guide us to the conference room. The office was huge, sprawling across the entire floor. The seats were nearly empty with most of the employees retiring for the day. There were still a few engrossed in work and some who were catching up with their friends. Their loud boisterous conversation indicated that they had called it a day.
Dressed in expensive designer wear and ties, these men were oblivious to our arrival and continued their conversation just as before.
We entered the conference room and started setting up the camera and lights. We were ready shortly but Agam was still not in sight. Sameer asked me to call him and ask where he was. But, I didn't have his number.
"I don't have Agam's number, Sameer Sir." The look that he gave me would have turned me into stone, only if he had the magical power. Sameer took out his cellphone and dialled him. Agam did not pick up. We could do nothing but wait. Meanwhile, Sameer asked me to note down his number as well as Agam's and explained to me that it was company protocol to have the cameraman, reporter and driver's number before we left for a shoot.
"You don't seem to know the company guidelines," Sameer commented casually. I wasn't offended.
I moved out of the conference room to walk to the glass window at the work cubicles. It offered the perfect view of the Arabian Sea. I had always imagined a house near the seashore. The music, the ever-moving pattern of the waves reminding every day of the lucky life I lived. My dreams were flowing but opportunities were eluding, dancing to the tunes of success seemed distant and far. I could gaze at it longingly for ages, building multiple plans around it but would I succeed was a question that lurched in my mind.
The group continued to babble and despite their loud voices, I could feel the calmness of the water and the serenity soothing me. Did I hate tranquillity or I had the love for upheavals for the thrill?
I looked up to see a guy in a grey tie smiling at me. He waved his hand. I smiled politely acknowledging his presence. His friends turned to look at me. I was embarrassed and had no idea how to escape. These men were behaving like a bunch of teenagers teasing their friend.
I walked back towards the conference room and found Agam walking with Ms Gupta. He introduced me as a colleague and we shook hands. Ms Gupta had a warm and pleasing personality. She looked perfect in a beige cotton sari and a cropped hair look. Her walk, in those killer black heels, oozed confidence and her comfort under her own skin. The black bindi on her forehead accentuated her face and gave it a feminine touch. I was captivated by her sense of style.
After we exchanged pleasantries, we settled down for an impromptu conversation. Ms Gupta briefed us about what she would not like to be grilled about and that was taken into consideration. Agam held an upper hand in the conversation and commanded her attention. Ms Gupta was composed throughout and answered everything perfectly. She was articulate and explained her points well. At that moment she seemed a victim to me. Her eyes, her body language was befitting an innocent lamb being slaughtered. Agam quickly finished a few questions and excused himself on the pretext of making an urgent call. Before leaving, he asked me to continue asking a few of my own. I was surprised by his request. He instructed Sameer but and before moving out casually he whispered to me, "rattle her."
I was nervous. This was my first gig and the task was daunting. I was supposed to take on this superwoman in the banking world. I kept my eyes down avoiding any display of my edginess. I cleared my voice and continued, "Ms Gupta, as you mentioned earlier, you have been wrongly implicated..." She nodded and that gave me the confidence to continue, "and yet there is the damning evidence against you that has been produced in the court which seems to have put a nail in your coffin."
"There is no nail in the coffin...the evidence produced is something that I have already acknowledged during the interrogation. I had totally cooperated with the investigative officers." Ms Gupta was cool as a cucumber and continued to unnerve me.
"Being a responsible citizen you have cooperated fully but there are reports that the entire set of papers signed between the company and GRETA bank have gone missing?"
"No papers have gone missing. Everything has been handed duly with the complete protocol." I smiled at her encouragingly.
"Sure. Yet the court in its last hearing ordered you to produce the papers of all the shell companies that have been named so far and it must be present with the bank considering the huge transactions involved."
For the first time, Ms Gupta lost her nerves and seemed irritated. This gave me the confidence to prod her further, but Agam walked in and asked me to wrap up. I thanked Ms Gupta for her time and obeyed orders diligently.
Agam set me up but why this charade. These petty mind games I could not decipher. I helped Sameer in moving things while Agam and Ms Gupta left to have a private conversation. I heard Agam apologizing for my juvenile questions.
I was disappointed. Sameer saw the frown on my face and smiled encouragingly.
"You were really good. I loved that you were so confident despite no preparations."
"Did you understand what he just did? Because I didn't." I blabbered honestly and raised my hands in the air. Sameer chuckled at my outburst.
The guy with the grey tie came forward to meet me as we were leaving. His friends watched us like hawks, trying to gauge anything and everything we did.
"Can I have your number, please?" He asked audaciously.
I scrunched my nose offering no answer. Agam was by my side before I could reply.
"Let's move. We are getting late." Agam announced.
"Yes." We moved out quickly towards the waiting elevator. Agam asked Sameer and me to wait for him in the car while he finished some important work with Ms Gupta.
"Did the guy misbehave?" Sameer enquired with concern.
"No. Just came in to say hello and make small talk."
"Uh-huh."
I asked Sameer if we could check out the art gallery if there was time. He agreed wholeheartedly. We kept the equipment in the car and then headed to the gallery. I had no appreciation of art and Sameer had no particular eye too. It didn't matter. We interpreted every picture with our own funny perspective and laughed our guts out disturbing the other visitors.
"Where were you before? I haven't laughed so much in ages. And by the way what is your name."
"Abhilasha Bhayani. Intern at FMN." I gave him a condescending look. "Look who was giving me a lecture on company protocols a few minutes back." I teased.
"Glad to meet you Abhilasha. Sameer Kochhar, Senior Cameraman FBN." He wasn't affected by my smart mouth.
"Hey, I have a question," Sameer said with much amusement.
"Uh-huh."
"You are an intern at FMN and Agam...doesn't quite fit his reputation?
I offered him a blank look and he continued explaining. "He has a reputation for giving interns a tough time. So, he is never assigned one."
"What about Aditya?" I asked curiously.
"He just ran errands for him not worked with him closely."
I was surprised. But he continued filling me in. "You are interning with FMN and you worked on an assignment for FBN. That's a strange first."
"I don't know the answer to your very logical question on this situation but how I turned up here is one of a kind story to narrate."
"Please elaborate," Sameer egged me.
"Mansi and I were supposed to be on an assignment together but she ditched me at the last minute and I think to spite her Agam..."
Sameer interrupted my theory abruptly.
"Impossible."
"Why? Agam is dating Mansi!" I announced it out of the blue.
Sameer choked and I laughed at his theatrics.
"My God Sameer sir, you are totally...'
Agam's cold voice cut mine and both Sameer and I stiffened.
"I have been waiting for ten minutes in the car wondering about both of you. At least have the courtesy to inform."
Sameer was the first to apologize.
"You should have called," Sameer suggested and that remark made me see one of the scariest smirks of my life.
"Really?" His sarcastic one word was enough to make us realize that he did. We walked out without a fuss.
"The car is moving towards the office, do you guys need to be drop-in between?" Agam spoke to us like we were kids.
Sameer asked him to drop him near Dadar. I was clueless about my destination because I was still struggling to know Mumbai. The only thing I had figured out was my way home from the office.
"Sameer Sir, who will submit the camera and sign off at the desk?" I asked more as a remark to Agam than Sameer.
"Agam, are you going back to the office or otherwise I can..."
Agam dismissed Sameer. "I am, I have to pick my car so I can finish off with the formalities."
"Great," I spoke out of turn.
"Sameer Sir, where are you headed to?"
"Dadar Station, from there I will take a train to Sion."
"I think I will tag along with Sameer Sir because I will take a train to Grant Road."
"Fine." And everything was silent for the next few minutes in the car.
Sameer out of nowhere came up with a very pertinent question for me.
"Why do you call me Sameer Sir?" I am sure his question perked Agam's ears. Although he seemed disinterested and ignored to look at us, the expression on his face spoke otherwise.
"Common Sameer Sir, you are a senior so..."
"But then why not Agam Sir. You call him by his name."
Agam answered for me, "Abhilasha and I know each other. Sort of friends."
Friends. That was pretty much a statement of the year. I had nothing to add and turned my attention towards the pretty sight outside the window. We reached Worli Sea Face. The traffic was moving at a crawling pace and despite the cooling of the air-conditioner in the car, I felt the hot sultry evening at the promenade would be a much better experience.
"Shekhawatji can you park the car someplace here, I want to get down," I told the driver.
Sameer questioned me the very instant. "Are you sure? You were headed to Dadar station?"
The spur in moment decision led me into a soup but I felt differently about it then. I wanted to try something new to be very specific.
"Yes, I just figured out that since I am here, I can visit a friend who lives nearby and go back home later."
"Sure. Be safe." Sameer bid me adieu while Agam kept assessing me with his cold eyes.
I murmured an indistinct goodbye to Agam which he did not accept. I ignored him and he did the same.












