“Sir, the journalist is here. Should I let her in?” The receptionist asked on the phone as an anxious Simone waited by the large floral portrait at the wall opposite the reception. The huge lobby scented with the choicest of fragrances and tiled with expensive flooring was the most affluent she had ever seen. ‘If this is how the lobby is, what would the CEOs cabin look like?’ she wondered.
“You can go meet sir now. Take the elevator to the 10th floor; it opens to a walkway which will lead to his office.” Simone carefully registered the receptionists’ directions.
The walkway was elaborate with large window panes overlooking the huge Mumbai skyline in the background while the other side was filled with murals from ancient India depicting the different forms of architectures from different parts of the country. As soon as Simone reached the office door, she primed herself physically; slightly styling her hair, ensuring her shirt and denims look tidy. A knock on the door, and the coarse and bold voice from the other side said “Come in.”
She walked in confidently to a huge office complete with fresh and spotless fancy carpet flooring, the choicest of paintings on one side of the room and large window panes opening up to the magnificent Worli skyline on the other. A monster size portrait of Dev Mehra, the owner of Mehra constructions along with his family hung behind the plush chair and shiny polished wooden table. A gleaming Dev got up to shake hands with Simone.
“Good morning sir, I am Simone from the Property Plus magazine, glad to see you.” She said while making herself comfortable on the chair in front of Dev.
“Good morning. I hate to say this but I have only 30 minutes, can we make it quick?” Dev said while looking at his Rolex.
Simone asked the first few basic questions relating to the general property trends in Mumbai and new projects from Mehra constructions which Dev gladly answered while she noted the main points quickly in her diary. After the first 10 minutes of fluent conversation, Simone gave in the first fumble as she slightly trembled in her next question when she asked, “Sir, there has been no consensus and several conflicts relating to the slum rehabilitation process involving five big builders, including Mehra constructions, from the city and the slum dwellers. What is the latest on that?”
“The latest is what we all know, government has given the go ahead to us for constructing townships while repaying and building affordable houses for slum dwellers elsewhere. I do not have any other development, except that we are still facing resistance at some levels which we are confident of tackling in the near future.” A confident Dev replied.
“Sir, but the scheme is only beneficial for the builders and governments. The development control rules are in favour of builders. They have allowed transfer of tenements and they can get accommodation under the scheme. But they are required to shell out Rs 40,000 to 60,000. How can they afford it? Also, they are forced to relocate to a far flung suburb, which is not practical considering that all are working as house helps in nearby residencies.” A well informed Simone reverted.
“Look, I am not answerable to you in this regard. If you have a question regarding the law, go ask the government, I have not made the law. And when it comes to these slums, quite honestly, they spoil the image of the big city that is Mumbai. It is essential to have them settled in the interiors while giving way to world class residential projects that make Mumbai popular among world cities.” Dev was clearly not amused.
Simone was furious but did not react. ‘Is it only to make Mumbai a world class city, or to make offices like yours world class?’ she said to herself.
“We all have heard about the builder-politician nexus, is it really true? Are such laws made by the government in consultation with builders, or in consideration...”
“I choose not to answer that stupid question.” A dejected Dev cut Simone.
“Sir, in the past few days there has been reports of a few construction biggies from the city suddenly going missing. Do you have any knowledge about that?” Simone asked curiously.
“I was made aware of that couple of days back through my network. Being a big builder in a city like Mumbai has a fair share of risks attached. We constantly receive threats from the underworld. May be they are keeping a low profile to escape the attention from unwanted elements. That is just my guess, I don’t know much.” Dev clarified.
Simone went on to try and dig deep into few more aspects of the ‘deal’ that had happened between the politicians, local authorities and the slum dwellers recently but Dev won’t budge an inch.
“Thank you Sir.” Simone got up to leave, “By the way, my interview is over, but just off the record, I know where the resistance is coming from, I just wanted to hear it from you sir.”
“What do you mean?” Dev got up in anticipation.
“Mr Bharat Mathews – he is your biggest resistance. The local self-made authority of the slums, everyone respects him and supports him in all his endeavours. Over the last few years, many builders tried to convince him, some with force, some with cash, but that old man won’t bend. He stands for the slums, no matter how difficult the force, he even has police protection following several threats to his life. He is the only reason you guys will never be able to build townships on that land.” Simone looked straight into his eyes, her glare getting sterner towards the last few words.
“I know that...”
“What you don’t know though is the only one weakness he has.” Simone cut Dev half way through his words.
“And what is that?” A curious Dev asked.
“Sandy Mathews, his only daughter. I know absolutely everything about her, but Mr Dev nothing comes for free.” Simone let out a sly smile.
“What do you want?” Dev exclaimed.
“Meet me today afternoon at 2.30 PM at the Aarey junction with Rs 10 lakhs cash, alone.” She said while stressing the word alone.
“How do I trust you girl?” Dev seemed cautious.
“Haha, all I can say is, you will trust me if you trust yourself! And besides that, Sir I am just an ordinary journalist while you are one of the biggest builders in the city. Surely you must be more powerful than me.” Simone said that and turned around to leave.
A perplexed and restless Dev sat on his chair, his mind wandering like a free bird in the spring sky. As soon as Simone left he dug his face in the cell phone. Several thoughts running through his mind, he dialled a few numbers but couldn’t get through any. After much pondering, he decided to go meet Simone that afternoon. ‘What is the worst that can happen? I will probably lose 10 lakhs, not a big deal really. But the upside is huge, a mind boggling 50 crore or potentially more, I should go for it.’ He said to himself.
Dev reached the Aarey junction by 3 PM where she saw Simone waiting and let her in his car. Simone instructed him to drive through the Aarey road towards Powai where she said her journalist friend is waiting to hand over details about Sandy.
“Sir, you wait here, do not get out of the car. I will go get the details.” Simone instructed Dev as soon as they reached the spot along Aarey road just a mile before it intersects into the JVLR road near Powai. The road was deserted with vehicles few and far between and no pedestrians around. In about 5 minutes, Simone returned and sat in the car with an envelope in one hand and another hand rigidly tightened behind by her back as if she’s trying to hide something.
“Your reward is in the back seat, pick it up and leave.” Dev told her in a hurry.
“And this is your reward Mr Dev.” Simone handed the envelope to him with her right hand while she hastily moved her left hand forward and with no hesitation cut his throat deep by sliding the knife towards the other side through his veins. Dev, least expecting this, was jolted to an extent that he just couldn’t react. His throat was cut so deep, he screamed with shock but could not be heard. His neck was bleeding profusely as he shuddered for a few minutes under the seat belt until a time when with eyes wide open; hands fallen and head collapsed to one side; his heart stopped beating.
Simone quickly pulled out a scarf from her handbag and covered the knife with it, took the blank envelope back, got out of the car and calmly walked away towards Powai.
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. Looking back at what had conspired in the last few hours, without the slightest of remorse, she smiled slyly, her smile slowly turning into a devious laughter. Carefully she removed a piece of paper from her handbag, unfolded it and while placing it on the table, let out a huge comforting sigh. The sheet of paper, titled ‘Revenge’ had the names of 5 people, 4 of which were stroked off with a red pen.
After much self adulation in her mind, she pulled out a red pen and started striking off Dev Mehra’s name on the paper. Her soul felt relieved.
After the silent revengeful celebrations in her mind, she got up to leave for home. Carefully tucking the knife and paper in her handbag, she wiped her moist red eyes and confidently walked out of the cafe. While waiting outside looking for a vacant cab suddenly an out of control SUV marched into her from the wrong side, knocking her down before it thumped into a huge tree by the sidewalk. All that remained was a motionless body, blood oozing out of her head, and spattered across the driving license that read ‘Sandy Mathews’ peeping out of her handbag. Her relieved soul left her anxious body that very instance. A chaotic silence prevailed. ~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This short story was sent to TOI as part of the TOI Write India campaign. Unfortunately I lost out to some other brilliant writers. Nevertheless, I loved writing this story and wanted to share.
“You can go meet sir now. Take the elevator to the 10th floor; it opens to a walkway which will lead to his office.” Simone carefully registered the receptionists’ directions.
The walkway was elaborate with large window panes overlooking the huge Mumbai skyline in the background while the other side was filled with murals from ancient India depicting the different forms of architectures from different parts of the country. As soon as Simone reached the office door, she primed herself physically; slightly styling her hair, ensuring her shirt and denims look tidy. A knock on the door, and the coarse and bold voice from the other side said “Come in.”
She walked in confidently to a huge office complete with fresh and spotless fancy carpet flooring, the choicest of paintings on one side of the room and large window panes opening up to the magnificent Worli skyline on the other. A monster size portrait of Dev Mehra, the owner of Mehra constructions along with his family hung behind the plush chair and shiny polished wooden table. A gleaming Dev got up to shake hands with Simone.
“Good morning sir, I am Simone from the Property Plus magazine, glad to see you.” She said while making herself comfortable on the chair in front of Dev.
“Good morning. I hate to say this but I have only 30 minutes, can we make it quick?” Dev said while looking at his Rolex.
Simone asked the first few basic questions relating to the general property trends in Mumbai and new projects from Mehra constructions which Dev gladly answered while she noted the main points quickly in her diary. After the first 10 minutes of fluent conversation, Simone gave in the first fumble as she slightly trembled in her next question when she asked, “Sir, there has been no consensus and several conflicts relating to the slum rehabilitation process involving five big builders, including Mehra constructions, from the city and the slum dwellers. What is the latest on that?”
“The latest is what we all know, government has given the go ahead to us for constructing townships while repaying and building affordable houses for slum dwellers elsewhere. I do not have any other development, except that we are still facing resistance at some levels which we are confident of tackling in the near future.” A confident Dev replied.
“Sir, but the scheme is only beneficial for the builders and governments. The development control rules are in favour of builders. They have allowed transfer of tenements and they can get accommodation under the scheme. But they are required to shell out Rs 40,000 to 60,000. How can they afford it? Also, they are forced to relocate to a far flung suburb, which is not practical considering that all are working as house helps in nearby residencies.” A well informed Simone reverted.
“Look, I am not answerable to you in this regard. If you have a question regarding the law, go ask the government, I have not made the law. And when it comes to these slums, quite honestly, they spoil the image of the big city that is Mumbai. It is essential to have them settled in the interiors while giving way to world class residential projects that make Mumbai popular among world cities.” Dev was clearly not amused.
Simone was furious but did not react. ‘Is it only to make Mumbai a world class city, or to make offices like yours world class?’ she said to herself.
“We all have heard about the builder-politician nexus, is it really true? Are such laws made by the government in consultation with builders, or in consideration...”
“I choose not to answer that stupid question.” A dejected Dev cut Simone.
“Sir, in the past few days there has been reports of a few construction biggies from the city suddenly going missing. Do you have any knowledge about that?” Simone asked curiously.
“I was made aware of that couple of days back through my network. Being a big builder in a city like Mumbai has a fair share of risks attached. We constantly receive threats from the underworld. May be they are keeping a low profile to escape the attention from unwanted elements. That is just my guess, I don’t know much.” Dev clarified.
Simone went on to try and dig deep into few more aspects of the ‘deal’ that had happened between the politicians, local authorities and the slum dwellers recently but Dev won’t budge an inch.
“Thank you Sir.” Simone got up to leave, “By the way, my interview is over, but just off the record, I know where the resistance is coming from, I just wanted to hear it from you sir.”
“What do you mean?” Dev got up in anticipation.
“Mr Bharat Mathews – he is your biggest resistance. The local self-made authority of the slums, everyone respects him and supports him in all his endeavours. Over the last few years, many builders tried to convince him, some with force, some with cash, but that old man won’t bend. He stands for the slums, no matter how difficult the force, he even has police protection following several threats to his life. He is the only reason you guys will never be able to build townships on that land.” Simone looked straight into his eyes, her glare getting sterner towards the last few words.
“I know that...”
“What you don’t know though is the only one weakness he has.” Simone cut Dev half way through his words.
“And what is that?” A curious Dev asked.
“Sandy Mathews, his only daughter. I know absolutely everything about her, but Mr Dev nothing comes for free.” Simone let out a sly smile.
“What do you want?” Dev exclaimed.
“Meet me today afternoon at 2.30 PM at the Aarey junction with Rs 10 lakhs cash, alone.” She said while stressing the word alone.
“How do I trust you girl?” Dev seemed cautious.
“Haha, all I can say is, you will trust me if you trust yourself! And besides that, Sir I am just an ordinary journalist while you are one of the biggest builders in the city. Surely you must be more powerful than me.” Simone said that and turned around to leave.
A perplexed and restless Dev sat on his chair, his mind wandering like a free bird in the spring sky. As soon as Simone left he dug his face in the cell phone. Several thoughts running through his mind, he dialled a few numbers but couldn’t get through any. After much pondering, he decided to go meet Simone that afternoon. ‘What is the worst that can happen? I will probably lose 10 lakhs, not a big deal really. But the upside is huge, a mind boggling 50 crore or potentially more, I should go for it.’ He said to himself.
Dev reached the Aarey junction by 3 PM where she saw Simone waiting and let her in his car. Simone instructed him to drive through the Aarey road towards Powai where she said her journalist friend is waiting to hand over details about Sandy.
“Sir, you wait here, do not get out of the car. I will go get the details.” Simone instructed Dev as soon as they reached the spot along Aarey road just a mile before it intersects into the JVLR road near Powai. The road was deserted with vehicles few and far between and no pedestrians around. In about 5 minutes, Simone returned and sat in the car with an envelope in one hand and another hand rigidly tightened behind by her back as if she’s trying to hide something.
“Your reward is in the back seat, pick it up and leave.” Dev told her in a hurry.
“And this is your reward Mr Dev.” Simone handed the envelope to him with her right hand while she hastily moved her left hand forward and with no hesitation cut his throat deep by sliding the knife towards the other side through his veins. Dev, least expecting this, was jolted to an extent that he just couldn’t react. His throat was cut so deep, he screamed with shock but could not be heard. His neck was bleeding profusely as he shuddered for a few minutes under the seat belt until a time when with eyes wide open; hands fallen and head collapsed to one side; his heart stopped beating.
Simone quickly pulled out a scarf from her handbag and covered the knife with it, took the blank envelope back, got out of the car and calmly walked away towards Powai.
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. Looking back at what had conspired in the last few hours, without the slightest of remorse, she smiled slyly, her smile slowly turning into a devious laughter. Carefully she removed a piece of paper from her handbag, unfolded it and while placing it on the table, let out a huge comforting sigh. The sheet of paper, titled ‘Revenge’ had the names of 5 people, 4 of which were stroked off with a red pen.
After much self adulation in her mind, she pulled out a red pen and started striking off Dev Mehra’s name on the paper. Her soul felt relieved.
After the silent revengeful celebrations in her mind, she got up to leave for home. Carefully tucking the knife and paper in her handbag, she wiped her moist red eyes and confidently walked out of the cafe. While waiting outside looking for a vacant cab suddenly an out of control SUV marched into her from the wrong side, knocking her down before it thumped into a huge tree by the sidewalk. All that remained was a motionless body, blood oozing out of her head, and spattered across the driving license that read ‘Sandy Mathews’ peeping out of her handbag. Her relieved soul left her anxious body that very instance. A chaotic silence prevailed. ~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This short story was sent to TOI as part of the TOI Write India campaign. Unfortunately I lost out to some other brilliant writers. Nevertheless, I loved writing this story and wanted to share.
