[Continued from here.]
“One special whiskey mix for the lady in-charge,” Shahnawaz
Kamil ordered the waiter, winking.
The underground banquet hall of The Taj Hotel in downtown
New Delhi had been decked up for the grand luncheon. Chandeliers hanging from
the high ceiling bathed the windowless room in pale yellow light which
illuminated all its corners. The formally dressed urban gentry of New Delhi
occupied the immaculate dining tables, their voices hushed and soft as
etiquette commanded.
The entire Board of Directors of Sambhav Solutions was
seated along a long rectangular table, of which Ira was also a part. Vertically
opposite her sat Shahnawaz Kamil, the Chairman of the Board. The middle aged
lobbyist had much bespoken connections with the rich and mighty, a fact that
was as fiercely guarded as it was common knowledge.
The three-course meal had been wiped off every plate and the
accompanying small talk had been concluded with all propriety. As glasses were
refilled for one last time, the conversation had turned to business at last.
"So, Ms Parmar…we are curious to know where you stand on the
issue of going public.” He said, addressing her.
“But you already do, Mr. Kamil,” she replied curtly. He
smiled broadly, his grey beard not quite thick enough to hide his heavily wrinkled
cheeks.
“I – like everyone here – am eager to hear it straight from
the horse’s mouth!” His smug grin remained.
Slimy bastard.
She leaned forward and entwined her fingers, resting her jaw
in their cross-section.
“I’m not one to repeat myself. However, seeing as everyone
hear is not a very retentive lot, I will make an exception.” She looked around
the table with a faux smile at the deadpan faces of the men and women seated to
her sides, gauging their offence. To her immediate right sat Jo, whose
diffident gaze she ignored on purpose. He seemed to be at a certain unease and
his eyes kept darting restlessly between her and Kamil.
“You see, sir,” she continued, “to me, my values are
paramount. Earlier, when I was new to the industry and the world of online
security, I did not know the pressing need of personal privacy in our invasive
age. After having read up a considerable amount and getting my own hands dirty,
my views changed – for the better.”
She paused, looking from face to face, expecting rebuttal. No one
spoke, yet remained inveterately stoic in their empty expressions. Kamil, the
only exception to the group, never let his smirk get off his face. He was
constantly fiddling with his giant red ruby ring that gleamed resplendently in
the indoor light.
“Special house whiskey mix, ma’am,” the waiter announced and
served a tall glass of golden liquid to her.
Apple fucking juice
would’ve been just as good.
She thanked the waiter and took a swig out of the drink. It
tasted warm and exquisite, yet unlike the best whiskey she’d ever drunk.
“You appear amused about something, Mr. Kamil,” she said,
looking up, “Care to share?”
He beamed even more broadly.
“Thing is, I knew exactly what you were going to say.”
“Oh, is that so?” she leaned back, smiling back and seething
inwardly in anger.
“Indeed.” He continued to grin.
What the hell does he
think of himself?
“Okay, whatever this is about, I don’t want nor care to
know. All I know is that I’m done deciding. The Board may be obligated by
whatever authority to come to whatever consensus, but I will see to it that my
will is the way.”
Another sip and a warm feeling trickled down her chest.
There was a few moments’ pause when everyone simply looked
up from their glasses and into each other’s eyes. Within seconds, however,
their surprised looks assumed an unexpected repose; they all laughed. Raucous
laughter filled the room as curious occupants from adjacent tables looked in
for the source of the outburst. Ira was harshly taken aback. Her head wheeled
around towards Jo, who looked back at her with incredulity.
“Did I crack a joke?”
Another furious sip. Things were
going from bad to worse: their laughter did not die out and she felt
light-headed with each passing moment. She looked at the Board members, her
eyes swimming across the room and her neck loosening at the pivots.
Kamil gazed at her as she had
another go at the drink. With a sudden flick of his index finger and thumb, he
swung his big ruby ring around the middle finger of his left hand. She blinked
and saw him magically standing five seats closer to her on her right. In the
moment she had blinked, Kamil appeared to have travelled from his seat to a
spot at least 10 feet away.
What did they put in the drink?!
She blinked a couple of more
times, just to make sure she was seeing correctly.
Dancing shapes, laughing men,
smiling Kamil coming closer…her head was throbbing now.
“What…what’d you spike my drink
with, you morons?” she said, furiously.
“You won’t believe me,” he spoke with his impish grin, “but
we didn’t.”
She saw him gracefully walk up to Jo’s seat on her right,
his grin constant but attaining a newfound genuineness. His eyes were now
brimming with what she perceived as excitement, akin to an eager student’s when
asked a question whose answer he knows. He tapped Jo’s shoulder gently, who
shuddered at his touch. There was something definitely amiss between them, some
sort of show of overbearing authority and tamed acceptance of subservience. The
men exchanged a cursory glance of understanding as Jo vacated his seat for
Kamil to occupy. He sat down with an authoritative sweep.
“The drink is fine, your mind is only spinning at my display
of…time flexibility.”
She tried to get a hold of herself and steadied her neck,
looking away. She blinked a couple of times and ran her fingertips over her
eyelids, gently massaging them. She could hear the sounds around her normalize:
the loud conversations spilling over from adjoining tables, the tinkling of
plates against knives and glasses against glasses, the brushing and shuffling
of feet against the carpet and the pleasantries offered by waiters at incoming
guest.
“What do you mean?” she enquired in a more controlled tone,
looking up at Kamil.
“There’s an awful lot, Ms. Parmar, that you have not been
privy to.” His enigmatic smile remained, resilient and undaunted.
Ira was annoyed and out of patience, yet unnerved by Kamil’s
optical illusion. He had appeared to jump half the length of the room in one
go, within a fraction of a second. Was it some sort of two-bit trickery to fool
her into submission of the Board?
“Do I really look like I’d care? I’ve talked enough, it’s
over.” She announced with finality and got up. “Thank you for everything, Mr.
Kamil. Hope you and the Board are in concurrence with my decisions.” She shot a
contemptuous glance around the room and wheeled around.
She turned around to see
Kamil standing right in front of her, having inexplicably appeared out of thin
air, his lips twirled up in a smug smile.
“What the fuck…how did you…?”
she looked at him with confusion, her balance suddenly wavering. She stepped back
in amazement and supported herself on the table.
“Allow me to explain,” Kamil stepped forward,
offering her her seat. She flopped back into it and dug her head into her
outstretched palms.
Pull yourself together.
“I’m afraid I’ve not been
entirely clear about the nature of our abilities,” Kamil spoke, walking around
the table to take his original spot.
“If you will look at me, I
will give you a preface into what I’m going to talk about right now. I
apologise if my…attempts at commanding your attention have been a tad
theatrical.”
She looked at Kamil through
bleary, unfocussed eyes and waited.
“Thank you,” he beamed at
her. He took his seat and adjusted his suit, his manner suddenly sprightly and
excited.
“Let me begin with – yes,
The War. I will appreciate it if you let me finish without interruption.”
Quite a night.
--
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