Back To Bliss: A Journey To Zero, Santosh Jha [mystery books to read .TXT] 📗

stretch the horizons of possibilities and reach their not alone but together, hands in hand...as one soul.

The decision made, he called her the next morning of his resignation, didn’t tell about it and simply asked her to come home in the evening. She jocularly asked him had he quit his job as she knew his office hours started when her ended and that’s why they could meet only on Saturdays. He smiled and told her that he had taken leave and would be at home. She asked him to pick her up and as usual asked him to cook a nice and innovative dinner for her.

**

CHAPTER 6

“Boss is in your town, will see you in his hotel suite, sharp at 8.30 am”.

It was already 8.15 in the morning when Mayank saw the SMS of the personal secretary of the owner on his mobile along with his three missed calls. No time to rehearse his lines that he intended to say but did not expect it so soon. He picked up a piece of paper and a pen, jotted down something, read them and threw it in the dustbin in a clear sign of disapproval. Stood for a while in front of the mirror, reviewed some gestures and smiled. Picked the keys of his car and stepped out of his house.

As he locked his door, his neighbor commented, “Looks like it will rain today”. Mayank asked him did he like rains. “Does my liking or disliking matter to the rain God? You can’t choose your destiny, you can however choose your courage”, the neighbor shot back. As Mayank entered the lift, he just added for fun, “You can simply choose the size of your umbrella”. He could hear his neighbor saying it almost shouting, “...what umbrella..! The one your newspaper gave me for six-month subscription? It can’t even shield a dog’s piss, let alone rain”.

The Boss, the owner of the newspaper had a fixed suite in the seven star hotel. Mayank had been to his suite once before and knew it quite well where he would comfortably sit to face the boss. The suite attendant asked, as he ushered him in to the large hall like sitting room, if he liked the idea of having tea or coffee in the meantime as saheb was in the bathroom and might take a few minutes. He declined it and instead asked for a bottle of mineral water. He knew the Boss liked to sit on the large couch at the farthest end of the room, so he chose a seat opposite the Boss but slightly across to ensure he avoided direct eye contact.

He had occasions in the past to talk with the owner but it was first time that he was facing him one to one. The previous encounters were very formal, usually in group meetings where he would just respond to some queries he made or simply listened to what he said. There never was the need to know more about the Boss as he had no business with him. Anyway, the Boss would be guarded and made largely inaccessible by the editor and general manager whenever he would visit the office, once a month or so.

As is usual with all big people, there were rumors about the nature, lifestyle and habits of the owner which could interest a page three journalist but he never heeded to them. He firmly believed, gossiping is more about disproportionate smoke of the actual fire and he had no business with either of the two. Moreover, he believed, a person had multiple personalities and what one aspect of his personality did should ideally not be a benchmark for judging the actions by the other. He was associated with the owner in a professional capacity and what the Boss did in his personal capacity was neither his concern nor the yardstick of his judgment about him. As he had left home, he had made a firm resolve to receive him with an unburdened mind. He basically knew too little about the Boss, his ideas and mannerisms to create any presumption and premonition about him.

The owner, in his late forties, had seen the rise of the media empire he owned from its struggling days. He was known for his generosity with heart but miserly with his words. Mayank had known more about him through the manner in which he was talked about among top people of his newspaper. He could gather that the Boss was probably bit more amicable and approachable; at times even weak and supple than it would be befitting and professionally appropriate for him as an owner. Loose talk about bosses and owners are favorite pastime of people all over the globe but at times, he would be puzzled whether the owner was actually as submissive and pliant as he was taken as in the talks of the editor and general manager. He was very unsure, how he would put up with him. He had however decided, before leaving his house that he would be honest to his nature without caring what perception his owner would carry about him and whatever end the talks might achieve.

The Boss looked relaxed. He entered the room in shorts and tee-shirt which did not look very expensive. He held the pack of cigarette and a lighter in his hand. Mayank greeted him but he did not respond. He knew about this habit of the Boss and did not take it badly. He would hold it as a sign of the low self-esteem of the man who would not respond to the greetings or at best a one-up-manship ploy and would usually consider a waste of time and energy talking with such a person. He however did not mind it as he had made up his mind to give the occasion a full chance.

The Boss gestured him to sit on the sofa vertically in front of his usual couch. He moved in and was settling on the sofa when the question came.

“Have you joined anywhere?”

“No.”

“Have plans to...any offer..?”

“No...no thoughts yet.”

The Boss pressed the remote bell and the attendant appeared.

“Would you like sandwiches or something else...?”

“Tea or coffee would be better.”

The Boss nodded and asked the attendant to pass on the ashtray before he left. He lighted a cigarette and stretched relaxingly on the couch.

“What exactly is your problem?”

“Nothing...the issue is not me, not about me...no personal complaints...”

“...you are a good hand...if you think your career gets better shape with some other people; I will say all the best. But, I would want to have people like you in my team so, I should know what is there in my place which makes good people leave us...”, the Boss said haltingly focusing all the while on the cigarette which he rolled between his fingers.

Mayank held his reply...weighed his words...checked with his resolve; asked himself, ‘do I really want to do it, will it be of any use’, realized it quick that he had nothing to lose. He understood, all good things take time to come through and that should not deter people in taking the very difficult first step. He resolved he would take a chance with destiny.

“Sir, I am completely unemployed now, not even a wife or kid waiting for me at home so, I have lots of time but I understand; you are extremely busy person. What I have to say, and given a chance I would like to say, will take a long elaboration”, he said with a grin on the face to make the environment relaxed and agreeable.

“Nobody has invited me for lunch either...”, the owner returned the grin.

Mayank got positive, shifted position on the chair to take off his plan. The Boss also moved slightly forward on the couch in an apparent bid to lend ears to him.

“A few centuries back, there was a monk who was famous for his magical powers of cure. People would come to him with terminal diseases and he would cure them by the touch of his hand. There however was another strange thing about him. He would always be weeping. His eyes would shed tears incessantly, even when he would be in deep sleep. Often, he would raise both his hands towards open sky and would cry and howl like a baby. People around him and even his own disciples had never seen him speak a single word since last 20 years. One day, his childhood friend visited him and first time people saw him smiling. His friend was very concerned and asked him about his continuous tears and wails. He wondered; when his magic could cure pains of thousands of humans, what pains made him weep and moan. The monk replied, ‘I am not in pain, I have no problems. I weep and cry to draw the attention of the God Almighty. There is so much pain and problems with millions of humans in the world and God alone has to take care of all of them. People speak to God in languages which they themselves have created, so their appeals do not reach him. Almighty receives only pure emotions as a language and there are only two words in his language – the weep and wail and the second is smile and laughter. You do not weep in French or Chinese languages, similarly smile and laughter is common in all human languages. I weep and wail so that God could pay attention to me and lift me in his lap.’ The monk told his friend that he did not have any magical powers of cure. What he did was to take the pains of others and pass it on to the Almighty through his tears and wails and it reaches him. He is then moved and cures them. Normal humans could not get God’s solutions as they could not speak to him in the language of pure emotions which God understands. The monk said he just worked as a translator.”

The boss did not react...played with his lighter for a few second, probably taking his time for the story to sink into his mind. Was about to say something when the coffee arrived and he checked his words. He asked the attendant to put the coffee tray on the table in front of his couch and waived him off. He asked Mayank for sugar and made coffee himself for both.

“Forgive me if I am wrong because I am a business person, not versed with the intricacies of emotionalism of literature. What I make out of your story is first, I do not understand the language of my people and their problems and secondly, there are too many problems in the place I own.”

“You have approached the reality from the wrong end.”

“But the fact anyway is that I am ignorant about the problems, isn’t it?”

“True it is; but not your fault. It is not ignorance but a communication bottleneck.”

“So, what I have to take out of that, where do I figure in the problem and what is expected of me. Do I have ready solutions?”

“That exactly is the purpose of my story. You are the almighty of this small universe where life has put you, me and a few others. You have all the solutions. You can never be a problem and do not figure in any of the problems because you have created this for all of us. You actually figure in all the solutions, you have the power to mitigate all pains of all those in your universe. The problem is that problems do not reach you, not because you are ignorant. It is because you are busy, very busy and problems are not being reached to you as you do not have a monk in your top and middle management ranks. The meek workers of your universe have double trouble. They neither have a magical monk who could work for them as the translator, like the one in my story, nor do