“Any calls while I was having my bath?” asked Krishna, putting on fresh clothes kept for him by his wife, Radhika. He strapped on his all gold Rolex. He felt clean after the bath. Some one had told him, at the work-out place one evening that a bath was most relaxing. He found this very strange. He for one kept thinking about his business deals all the time, even in the bath. The question of relaxing did not arise. Radhika was bothering him again about her pet subject of having children but where was the time?


Calculations took up most of his time these days. Again he went into one of his calculating sprees. 7.35 to the MLA (the scoundrel was becoming more greedy by the day), 6 plots in the new site, may be 100 flats there? No make it 125. Can squeeze more with lower ceiling heights. Even @ 20 per flat (lakhs of course) that would be 300 million. He was excited about an old bungalow he was after. It was great in terms of location but the neighbourhood was rather seedy. So what, he thought, haven’t they minted money from run down mills in Mumbai? Here he was in Tirupati to pray to the Lord for a few big deals in the offing. He thought he knew what Radhika was praying for.


“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” asked Lakshmi, rather timidly after ascertaining her husband’s mood. Ramesh was back from the office and hot idlis and steaming hot filter coffee had mellowed his mood. “ Appa and Amma were so attached to this old house” she began nervously. “ What would they think of our selling it so soon after they are no more”. At any other time he would have snarled at her but the idlis and coffee merely made him say with a smirk” But they are not here now, are they? I am not selling this with them living here”


“How much longer can I work like this?’ wondered Ramesh. The cost of living in Bangalore was increasing by the day. Being a lower level Governement official is no fun. Every one seems to have made pots of money. Either from the IT industry or from real estate. Some of his colleagues seldom came to work. They were busy making money elsewhere. “Deals” was the name of the game.


Only the other day, his son Ritesh had asked him for money to take his friends to the mall. And how much did he want? Only 5000 he said. And he was only18. Lakshmi could understand how he felt. 5000 was a lot of money. She , for example, could make it stretch a long while not blow it up one evening. Lakshmi was beginning to feel the strain of the new world. Her son’s friends wanted to work in call centres. “To make money, Aunty” they said. She sometimes felt jealous of their new found wealth. Her husband’s new boss was proving to be a terror. No, it wasn’t that he frowned upon making some money on the side. He wasn’t righteous or anything of that sort. It was just that he was hogging the largest part of the cake leaving the crumbs to the likes of Ramesh.


“The only way out of this” said Ramesh” is to sell this old house. “Can you get 1-2 flats for us from the builder” asked his wife. “I daresay the building itself is worthless but the land can get us a good amount. I will negotiate so well with the buyer that we’ll definitely get a premium for this” he said. “But what about the others” asked Lakshmi” your younger brother Shyam and poor Manjula your widowed elder sister?


“Leave that to me” said Ramesh. “The first step is to get the papers adjusted. Appa was well meaning but lazy. He did not bother about the documentation. I know one fellow who will make the records in our name for a small percentage. It’s well worth it at today’s prices”.


“What about Shyam” asked Lakshmi again. “What about Manjula?”

“What about them?” asked Ramesh. “Shyam’s children are in the US and are doing very well. They went on world tour last year. Besides didn’t I get them admission in engineering colleges? How can they forget that? As far as Manjula is concerned, Appa got her married into a rich family by our standards. He almost went broke after that marriage. Is it my fault that she is a widow now? She lived like a queen for many years. Now it’s our turn to be happy”


“I am expecting a call from a fellow called Ramesh” Krishna told Radhika. She knew a lot about his business…well not everything but quite a lot. “Is he that smart IT man?” she asked. “the one who wants to buy the penthouse. I liked his wife’s clothes. So stylish”.


“No, no” said Krishna” This Ramesh is different. He is a Government type. Wants to sell his ancestral bungalow. I have told him it is worthless, the prices are crashing, real estate is not what it used to be etc etc. “Actually it’s worth a fortune, isn’t it” asked Radhika who was quick on the up take.” I can make out from the glint in your eyes”.

“You know me too well” said her husband” I hope Ramesh can’t make out that much so soon”


Radhika worried some times. She was human after all. What if there was a raid by the Income Tax fellows? They had no other work, it appears but to raid and harass people. What if some idiot of a buyer filed a case against them? What if one of those wretched buildings built in the new “ instant” style collapsed? She was happy yet unhappy. Happy with the new Skoda Octavia ( scarlet, of course, to be noticed); the trips abroad, the almost unlimited shopping….yet there was the old yearning for a child of her own. She some times felt the old days were better. They were just starting their business, they had a second hand Maruti 800, holidays to Ooty and Kodaikanal, an attentive and engaging husband. They didn’t have too much but they had a good life with…no fears.


Krishna was changing by the day. He was tense and irritable all the time. A workaholic becoming an alcoholic. He had diabetes and high BP which he tried to hide from her. They now had plenty of money as their business grew but he wanted more and more. A building there, a project here, a contract elsewhere, an “adjustment” here, a “deal” there and life went on. Time was money. He did not seem to miss the absence of children as much as she did. She some times wondered whether he had transformed into a mobile calculating machine.


Finally the call came. “Good news” said Ramesh.” All’s settled. The papers are ready. Today is the 18th. Based on out recent discussions, let’s sign the deal on the 21st. I have a trip to make and anyway 21 st is an auspicious day”.


“I’ll try my best” said Krishna (excited within but playing it cool).” I have many meetings and besides I am not in Bangalore right now. For your sake, let me try my best to reach there on the 20th.” Putting away his cell phone, the “Calculator” began a new set of calculations based on a new set of figures.


Ramesh went out and booked a minicab for the very next day. He told Lakshmi and Ritesh with great excitement about their trip and the great future ahead after that.


The newspapers reported that the accident must have taken place some time after midnight on the 19th. The Skoda hurtling towards Bangalore at 150 kmph hit the Maruti minicab proceeding to Tirupati head on. The collision was dreadful. It smashed the minivan. Subsequent enquiries revealed that the occupants – all sadly no more- were Narayanappa, driver, aged 25; Ramesh, aged 48, A Government official, his wife Lakshmi aged 39 and their son Ritesh aged 18.


The fate of the Skoda’s occupants was no better. They were identified (by his trademark triple gold bracelet) as Krishna, 35, a well known builder from Bangalore, and his wife, Radhika aged 29.


Did the driver of the Skoda take a call from a MLA seconds before the crash? Did he see a SMS about stocks for the next day? No one had seen what actually happened. No one could say who was at fault.


Yet, the whole thing was seen by Him. He sees everything.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 04.10.2009

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