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

newspaper. Please stick to basic things. Consider this as a valid complaint. What do you think is the reason about dull mid pages?”

“I beg to differ. I do not think the complaint is valid. Editorial business is like digging up a well daily to quench your thirst. The content quality cannot be expected to be standardized for all thirty days of the month. We have threadbare team strength in the editorial after we were forced to cut down on them. Someday, more people are either on off or leave, it affects quality. It is easy for anyone to say that rival newspaper has more fizz in their content but things should be compared in totality. The general manager will be better aware that they have better fizz also in payment structure and team strength. The salt and pepper make the food better and a gift of diamond ring to wife makes the bed hotter...!”

“Oh ho...Editor Saheb, cannot you say anything without having to refer to either wife or the bed? Pandey Ji, can you make out why he is so obsessed by the two things?”

“Sir, Marco Polo had once said something related to both these in 13th century itself...he had very sound opinion about them...”

“Yes…yes! I want to listen to that...historical prudence is evergreen solution.”

“Marco Polo was a veritable genius. He had learnt four languages and traveled over 24,000 kilometers in 24 years of his travel all over Asia. He was a stupendous merchant having astute business sense. You can well understand how great he was as he could do profitable business even with Chinese people and made a huge fortune...”

“Pandey Ji, please come to the point straightaway...we know he was genius otherwise you would not have been his fan; that is for sure...”

“Okay. I am told, he had once confided to one of his friends that all his travels and business could make him learn a reality which is applicable to all humans across nations and society. Most economic activities in this world originate from two sources- the bed and the bed partner. History of mankind would not be same if these two were not in the reckoning. The bed and the wife are the source of all struggles in life. Men would go to war if they do not get comfortable bed and comforting bed partners. I say it metaphorically; Editor Saheb understands it well. And, remember, the famous silk route Marco Polo traveled. Silk makes the best bed sheets. I have been telling Editor Saheb that newspaper is also reached to readers when they are in bed. Also, wife’s today decide which newspaper the family will read but he does not give enough content for wives. Let alone a diamond ring, he has never ever bought bangles for his wife.”

“Pandey Ji, it is then better that we close the newspaper and start making silk bed sheets”, the editor said.

“Sorry, I am not going to close the newspaper. But, we are going to continue our efforts for qualitative changes in the newspaper so that overall work efficiency is improved. I suggest, you all call a general meeting of your respective departments shortly and discuss an action plan aimed at achieving the goal. You all should come up with your presentations and I will take the meeting next week.”

The general manager was about to say something when the mobile phone of the owner rang up. The Boss did not say anything and ended the call in a jiffy.

“The meeting is over, please follow my instruction and give me a date by tomorrow for the next week meeting. And Editor Saheb, I want you here tomorrow 8 am sharp. We have an appointment with the chief minister at 8.30 and I cannot afford to be late. I hope you understand the importance of tomorrow meeting?”

The editor nodded in utter confusion. The Boss smiled at the bewilderment of the editor. The editor had more in store as he would see Mayank with Boss the next day. He would be shocked to see the chief minister being convinced and the Boss tell a big lie about the rival newspaper editor with aplomb.

**

CHAPTER 8

Utkarsh Singh had better compatibility with Mayank, though the two along with Ashish formed the gang. He worked with a public sector bank and his life was slower and relaxed. He was back in town and Mayank could not wait for an evening with him. Utkarsh was recently married and his wife had immediately struck a chord with Mayank. Like all good and intelligent women, she could feel the vibes in a man. She found Mayank a mother at heart and in very few encounters; she looked up to him as her brother and a father-figure. He too would love to pamper her as she had one big quality about her – she understood very well the preciousness of the innocence of emotions and had beautiful ways of saying thanks, not with words but with her very expressive body language.

The best part of it was her large eyes which flickered almost sixty times a minute. Even an idiot could see the smile or pain in her eyes which were white as moon. Mayank had issued a warning to Utkarsh that if any day, he would see even a single red strand in the immaculate white of her eyes, he would get her divorced and marry her off to a man he would pick up for her. Utkarsh had smiled at his threat and said he was confident that Mayank would not ever get his right man for her and would finally return her to him.

She would be overwhelmed by the attention the two men in her life would shower on her. As the two would fight friendly battles over her small joys, she would rush to the kitchen, pick up five red chilies, waive them over the heads of her two men and burn them to ward off any evil which might cast its bad eye on them. She would walk in joy and pride and it would look as if she was dancing. Dance is a process of blossoming of love after the soul is fully soaked of it. She would be in a perpetual state of dance and like a ballerina, would walk in air. The two men knew, there was a force of love in their lives that would make life difficult for God, if it had anything planned against the two.

What Mayank appreciated most was her gracious poise which crowned her feminine charm. Despite being in a very demanding and high-paid job, she clearly understood, money is not served on the dining table and bread and cheese are not kept in the jewelry box. She had the poise to ascertain the rightful place to her priorities. Reactionary practicality didn’t fix her priorities. Womanhood is like a rose; the beauty is spontaneous and ubiquitous. She was feminism naturally unstructured.

Ashish was awaited. Mayank had come to Utkarsh’s place even before he came back from office and was helping her in the kitchen. Utkarsh knew Ashish would come late as he would go home first, take his daily quota of whisky and then come to his place as he too, like Mayank did not drink and did not allow any at his place.

“Guddi, I think we should not wait for Ashu and have our coffee. Anyway, he would not be interested...you know that”, Utkarsh said to his wife, who was still in the kitchen as he and Mayank relaxed in the living room.

Guddi came out of the kitchen, looked up to Mayank for his approval and as he nodded, she went in to ready the coffee.

Ashish entered the same time the coffee came. He avoided eye contact with Guddi and sat on the sofa farthest from the kitchen. He had brought a huge can of pineapple juice for Guddi as it was her favorite but pushed it in Mayank’s hands to give it to her. Mayank dropped it on the center table.

“Oye Guddi...look, Ashu has brought something for you...come here”, he said in an apparent attempt to put him in tight spot. He knew she would understand why he wanted her to come out of the kitchen.

“Bhaiya (brother) ... a cop does not always have to take help of a sniffer dog to get the wind of a crime”, she said from the kitchen. “It only confirms that Ashu does not love me, or why would he do something he knows I hate and then add to the guilt by avoiding me.”

“Guddi, you know it is not true. I am sorry my little angel. I understand you get hurt. You are pained because you have known me only recently. What I can do, I am an idiot ever since my school days. A donkey is a donkey, even when age makes him a bit intelligent.”

She emerged out of the kitchen and sniffed twice standing close to Ashish.

“How much..? Did you eat something before or are you empty stomach...?”

“Only small bit Guddi...less than the coffee in the cup...I swear.”

She blinked her eyes a hundred times in protest, brought snacks from the kitchen and sat with Mayank on the same sofa.

“Had his dad scolded Ashu like you, he too would have been a great soul”, Utkarsh teased her.

“Yes, you are right, I would have been even better than Monku”, Ashu joined him.

“Nobody can be like my brother”, she said in a clear bid to end it as she did not like comparison of Mayank with anyone.

“And do you know what your dear brother has done?”

“Yes. I knew it from the day first that this job is no good for a person like him.”

“Guddi, this resignation is just the tip of the iceberg. Your brother has declared a war against his editor and more than that, against the owner of the newspaper. He thinks he can change the world. The reality is, nothing will change but he will certainly be declared mad, already is”.

Mayank smiled at Ashish’s comments and pressed the hands of Guddi hinting her not to react. Utkarsh was only happy that Ashu had put the talk on the right track. He too wished to know what Monk had in his mind about his resignation and life ahead.

He knew Mayank never said anything in reaction and that’s why he had to do something to give him a start.

“Somewhere, in a book by a very famous writer, I had read some lines”, Utkarsh said. “I do not remember it in the right sequence but what it meant to say is, every race, every art has its hypocrisy. Every community, every nation has its own lie, which it calls its idealism. Every creature therein breathes this lie from birth to death; lies are adapted to the mind of each race and art. There are only a few men of genius who can break free from it through heroic moments of crisis… It was also said that genius cannot be defined without touching the ridiculous….”

“Great! But I am not doing or trying to do anything with any foolishly self-important purpose of changing anyone, let alone the whole world. Change is not person-induced proposition; it is intrinsically environment-induced. Yes, a person at times can be a big influence on environment and that too will be decided by a particular environment. I am anyway a common man.”

“But Monku, we have had strong individuals in the history, who proved to be so powerful people leaders that they could actually change the course of history. We are so fortunate that we were born in the same century Gandhi Ji lived”, Utkarsh prompted him.

“There is no denial that personality and character of strength of individual are great factors in history but when it comes to becoming a powerful source of effecting change, the layer which has to accept change becomes far more important. When Gandhi Ji came back to India from South Africa, Indian people had already accepted him as their leader. He was