Cockroach 7 : The Interview

“Never wrestle with a pig. You get dirty and the pig enjoys it.” — George Bernard Shaw

Human greed, money and humour seem to have an interminable connection. Humour mends the brokenness of a dispirited world. It inspires the best in writers. I have never written humour before. I can never imagine how a man’s failings can be a source of merriment for others? I have been exposed to crass loud humour, buffoonery, slap stick comedies and Charlie Chaplainesque type of action. People think humour lacks the element of subtlety. They are wrong. Humour can match any emotion lock stock and barrel. The creative genius of a slapstick comedian deserves an applause as much as the musings of a tragedy writer.

A NEW IDEA

I met Veronica, for the first time in spring. There was good cheer everywhere. She was in a flutter. We enjoyed our walks and drives. The distinctive song of the Koel kept our spirits up. We participated in nature’ s celebration. The following summer months were long and arduous. The continuous periods of lockdown due to the spread of the Corona Virus made matters worse. The stress was all consuming. There was so much restlessness and anxiety that if they were harnessed for energy they would provide enough electricity for the entire planet. Humans display resilience and ingenuity, when threatened. We managed to sneak out every now and then armed with masks, gloves and hand sanitiser. The other day she told me,“We had so much fun during the Corona Virus when most of Delhi was quarantined at home.” I agreed. We drove to Noida, Gurgaon and CP many times posing as doctors with a stethoscope around our necks. There was an element of mischief in whatever we did. We were like two rebellious inquisitive teen-agers out to explore the beauty of the unknown. Our conversations had the incompleteness of an old ballad. We hoped no one would find us. We had unknowingly created something ethereally beautiful between us. We did not let our relationship degenerate into an emotionally exploitative, offensive, evil and mindlessly provocative mess. We enjoyed the present moment. We rarely talked about our past or worried about the future. I continued writing and managed to allure the world with my make-believe stories about Veronica. When I told, her she was the inspiration behind them, she showed no interest. I know, I was brutal and rude while writing about her. She did not want to read my stories (which were honestly truthful) and find out what I thought about her. I imagined she wanted to explore and discover the real me. She had left her life open to a writer’s imagination and interpretation. Whenever I was not sure of the interpretation, I called up my school friend in Singapore. He was Krishna and I was Arjun. He egged me on. He told me nothing can go wrong. It was worth pursuing and taking a risk if need be. I had my doubts.

The monsoons have arrived. I get up in the morning and stand on the balcony. A beautiful sight awaits me. The park in front of my house is a carpet of green. The Peepal tree’s loaded branches are swaying in the wind. I find a female Horn Bill sitting on the overhead electric wires in front of my house. I wonder if the Horn Bill is looking for its male partner who got injured in front of Veronica’s house the other day. I click a picture of the bird and send it to her. It is seven in the morning. She is fast asleep. She will not see her WhatsApp messages before nine-thirty. I wait for a response. She replies,“Yes, it is probably the same bird.”

Next day, we take a stroll in another park. I tell her, “You are looking fresh and nice. Looks like the change in weather has uplifted your spirits. What are you planning to do ?”. I know there is something on her mind. She tells me, “Do you remember our common childhood friend? He recently got married to a close friend of mine. I attended their marriage.” I am surprised. I am close to this common friend of ours and he did not invite me for his marriage. Maybe it is because of the Corona Virus. I reply, “Good to hear that. He has finally settled down.” I recall that he had divorced his second wife two years ago. She had walked away with all his hard earned money. Since then he had become thrifty as hell. I am lost in my thoughts. She continues, “Listen na. After the marriage, I suggested we all go to the coffee shop at Shangri-La for a treat. Instead, he took us all to Gole Market to have chole bhature.” She burst out laughing. “What a cheapskate? He has become such a miser that he makes his new wife beg for five hundred rupees.” I felt sad. I knew my friend had a lot of money. She adds, “He does that because she is dependant on him. She doesn’t have a job.” It is raining outside but I can hear the thunder clouds inside me. I know it is a build-up to something drastic. A new idea is forming in her mind. I keep quiet. She tells me. “Bholenath came in my dreams yesterday.” She moves her eye balls in the white sclera of her eyes. I look disinterested. “He told me that I must do something purposeful in life. I have decided to take up a job and earn money. I want to get married. If after marriage, my husband takes all my money, I will still have a job to depend on. I want to get that gratification, of ‘Wow, I did something.’ I do not want to be like my friend who is totally dependant on her husband,” I agree with her. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day. I can hardly imagine how Archie, her ex husband, would feel about it. I am sure he has no intentions of marrying her again. “Does it sound like a good idea?” She asks innocently. I think she is delusional. I realise arguing with her is a waste of time. I force myself to believe that she is serious about pursuing a career. I am mistaken.

I am on the receiving end of her new idea. Over the next few days, she hounds to me to help her find a job. I tell her. “Buddy. I understand your concern. We are living in tough times. No one is hiring these days. Due to the Corona Virus pandemic people have lost their jobs. There is no point in trying right now. You should wait for six months.” She is unconvinced. She wants a job right now. She is a strong minded person and no amount of persuasion will make her budge from her resolve. I call up a school friend of mine. He runs a software company. Years ago, I had helped him with a major software deal. He owes me a favour. He listens to me patiently. He is helpless. I tell him. “At least call her for an interview. She will be satisfied.” He reluctantly agrees. I tell her about the call with my friend. I ask her, “How much do you want to earn. You have no experience.” She replies, “I am not greedy. Forty to fifty-thousand a month should be enough.” I am doubtful whether she will get a job or her salary expectation will be met? A week later, I forward her resume to my school friend. She calls him up. He suggests they meet in his office in Gurugram for an interview. She politely tells him that the Taj at Mansingh near Khan market has re-opened. She will be glad to drop in after doing her groceries. A time of twelve p.m. is fixed. His company is in a cost cutting mode. He knows the company will not foot the bill for lunch at the Taj. He hesitantly agrees for a luncheon meeting. They agree to meet at the House of Ming , a speciality Cantonese and Schezuan restaurant at the Taj hotel.

THE INTERVIEW

My friend reaches the place on time. He notices the place is small and totally empty. He is impressed by the Chinese ceramics: earthenware, stoneware, porcelain, adorning the walls and the full-bodied coiled funerary storage jars kept in the corners. Emperor chairs with red velvet tapestry, white table cloth and the green carpet with parallel and perpendicular bars give the entire place a tawdry look. He wishes the food is better and cheaper. She remembers she has an interview. She looks at her watch. She is late. She makes a harum- scarum dash to the hotel. The rain Gods are smiling that day. She reaches the Taj floating in a flood of rain water and sea of humanity with the limbs of a venerable water Goddess. It is almost one p.m. She is confident she will crack the interview.

“Hi, I am Veronica. How are you doing? Sorry I am late. I got delayed because of the rains.” He smiles at her and asks her to sit down. She has put highlights in her hair, rouge on her cheeks and mascara in her eyes. She is out to make an impression. Her beauty shimmers like a mirage under the Taj’s legendary lantern chandeliers. She looks imposing and attractive. She has kept her long hair open. He asks her,“What shall we order? We can talk over lunch.” She responds, “ I will only have Evian mineral water.” The waiter gets her mineral water and presents the menu in a padded green leather jacket. He opens the menu. He is in shock when he looks at the prices on the menu. Taj has increased prices by thirty-percent to recover the losses due to the pandemic. The cheapest main dish on the menu after taxes is close to two thousand rupees. He says, “Let’s go in for a set meal.” He thinks it will be cheaper. She replies reassuringly, “I am not hungry. I am a light eater. I generally skip lunch. But if you insist we can order something a la carte.” He says, “Of course. That is a fantastic idea.” He wants to get over with the interview quickly, grab a bite and leave. The business conditions are not conducive to having leisurely lunches and conducting job interviews. He thinks he will utilise his time better making money. “Did you get a hard copy of your resume?” he asks casually. She is combing her hair and looks at the menu. Her concentration is broken. “I think my friend sent it to you on WhatsApp. Did he not ?” She asks cooly. He remembers he had got her resume on WhatsApp but could not download it. He says,“Never mind. You can run me through your experience and achievements.” He looks at her inquiringly. She lights up like a house on fire.

She keeps her grocery bag on the side and says,“I never eat much for lunch. I like to maintain my figure.” She smiles and sips Evian mineral water. “If you insist I will have some soup. And you?.” She orders Udon noodle seafood soup. He says,“I will skip the soup.” He wants to save some money and get back to the interview. She reads his mind. She is a sharp person. “I have more than thirty-years experience in Public administration. I have been managing the affairs of the colony.” She says confidently. “Should we order some starters? It is quite boring to have a soup like Udon with bread sticks and buns that they serve with it.” She continues ,“Actually I do not have non-veg on Tuesday and Thursdays. Fortunately today is a Friday.” She calls the waiter and orders fried scallop in crispy wonton cups with lettuce. He thinks she has ordered the main course instead of a starter. He looks at the price of the dish on the menu and for a moment forgets about the purpose of the meeting. She is enjoying herself and politely says, “Scallops go well with a nice martini. So if you don’t mind?”. She orders a Calypso. She explains, “ It is a martini bianco made with dry and sweet vermouth with homemade rosemary bitters and stirred to perfection.” This time he avoids looking at the price of the drink. He fidgets with his car keys. He sits there eating the free sugar cubes on the table.

He asks her,“Can you tell me more about your experience?”. He is getting impatient. She takes a breather, stops eating, looks up and says seriously, “Yes. Of course. I lost my parents early in life. I got divorced from my husband soon after that. Since then I have been running the whole house very efficiently. I manage two maids, a mali, a driver and the security guard. People in the colony depend on me for any kind of help they want with their servants. I am invariably part of all servant salary negotiations in the colony. Life has taught me so much. I am quite an expert at human handling.” She says proudly and calls the waiter. “Can you get some nachos with tomato salsa and cheese-garlic-parmesan popcorns.” The waiter replies, “Mam, we don’t have these in the House of Ming.” She says promptly, “Oh! You can get them from the Ricks bar. They are available there.” She has finished her drink by now. She adds, “While you are there just ask them if they have Bruichladdich, forty years old whiskey. It is my favourite. Get me two large pegs so that you don’t have to go again.” He is relieved, she does not order the whole bottle. He realises she is a lost cause. He carries on with the pretence and asks her, “Can you tell me about a situation that you handled well and it motivated you.” By this time her whiskey has arrived. She takes a large gulp, feels rejuvenated and says, “Well a Horn Bill got injured in front of my house. I took the bird to the nearest animal hospital and got him treated. I felt motivated.” She waits for a reaction from him. There is none.

“I never eat more than one thing for lunch.” She proudly proclaims. Over the next one and half hour she orders pan fried noodles with chicken in soya sesame sauce, silken tofu with chilli black bean sauce, sea bass steamed lobster, Beijing duck and West coast jumbo prawns. He notices a pattern in what she is ordering? All of them are expensive items on the menu. He helps himself to some free peanuts that came with her Bruichladdich. It is almost two-thirty p.m. He stares at the ceiling for a long time and then asks her, “I doubt you have any weakness. You are so sure of yourself.” She smiles, as is her habit, when she is on a slippery ground. She remembers, “You never parley when you are on the back foot.” She picks up courage and replies, “I have a weakness for sugar, candy, chocolates and cakes.” She is embarrassed. The waiter comes, “Mam, we are closing for lunch. Do you need to order anything else?” Without feeling guilty she tells him. “Get me one kg Belgian chocolate cake and six vanilla pastries from the Emperor Lounge. Their bakery is the best in town. Add it to the restaurant bill.” While they wait for the bill and the waiter to get her order he asks, “What is your expectation in terms of a salary ?” She is ready with an answer. She runs her fingers through her hair and says, “Somewhere in the range of two and a half lakhs per month plus perks. A nice car, plus a three bedroom flat in South Delhi and two company paid International holidays would suffice. I don’t want to be greedy.” She is quiet after a long time. He says, “We cannot pay you that much. With your qualification and experience, we may consider you for the position of a personal assistant.” His voice trails. He is not ready for what happens next ? She is upset. She gets up from her seat and shouts at him, “You are desperate to give me a job because your ship is sinking. I do not want to be your mistress.” He cannot believe what she is saying, He has no such intentions. He asks her to cool down and after much persuasion she sits down again. There is a lot of food still left on the table. She asks the waiter to pack it. When the packages arrived she keeps one for herself and gives the second one to him. She says you need not cook tonight with directness, speed and purpose. Once the bill comes he is shocked. He skitters. He is on the edge. He keeps his Taj inner circle card back in his pocket. A five percent saving on the exorbitant bill would make no difference. At the end of the conversation he bows his head, pays the bill and is about to leave. “I am going towards Gurgaon. Can I drop you somewhere ?”, he asks politely. “No, I will take an Uber.” She lies.

GOAT MEAT

After he leaves she calls me. I meet her in the Taj lobby twenty minutes later. She looks excited. I tell her, “Let’s talk in the car.” Once in the car, I ask her about the interview. She tells me everything; the food she ate, how impressed my friend seemed to be with the story of the Horn Bill, her weakness for sugar, candy, chocolates, cakes and the Belgium cake she got packed. I cannot believe my ears. She stops talking for a brief while and then asks me, “Did I do anything wrong ?”. I continue to drive expressionless. Anger and frustration is fomenting inside me. I wonder when will God set my soul free from this struggle ? I am strained, but not yet overwhelmed. I turn on the car’s music system and play my favourite Jagjit-Chitra ghazal “सर ही न झुका, दिल भी तो झुका, कल्याण यंही होगा, निर्वाण यही होगा( Not only is my head bowed, my heart too bows. I will achieve salvation here only) .” I ask her to keep quiet. She does not understand. Even though it is three-thirty in the afternoon I need a drink. Infact, I need two drinks. She asks me innocently, “I need to buy some mutton. Can we drive to Shankar market in CP if you don’t mind ?” I park my car in Shanker market. It is overcrowded. I ask her to put her mask. She gets out of the car and starts searching for stall number thirty-five. We reach the place. It is unclean and a butcher is sitting in front of the Goat Halal Meat Shop. I tell her it is not hygienic. “Let’s go somewhere else.” I plead in vain. She is adamant. The man smiles and goes inside the shop. He chops and two minutes later hands her a dirty bag with goat meat. She is happy. She has removed her mask and I shout at her asking her to put it back. Back in the car the goat meat smells. I roll down the car windows to get some fresh air. On the way back we are stopped by a traffic policeman. I slow down the car. The policeman tells me that she is not wearing her mask properly. It is an offence. He cuts a challan of five hundred rupees which I pay unwillingly. Once we start again she tells me,“Don’t lose heart buddy. It is my fault. We will split the challan money.” I concentrate on my driving. I ask her to shut up.

After dropping her, I reach home and pour myself a large vodka. I receive a message on WhatsApp from my friend. It is the bill of the House of Ming, the Ricks bar and the Emperor Lounge at the Taj, a total of 19867 rupees paid in full. Below the message there is a smiley and a message typed in Hindi, “जो सांड सींग मारते हैं उन्हें खेत में नहीं जोता जाता (attacking bulls are never harnessed for work)”. In the evening, I call up my friend in Singapore. I tell him about the interview, the Goat Halal Meat Shop and the challan. He listens and replies, “Hmm. She took you shopping for goat meat. It means she wants more meat in her relationship with you. It is a subtle hint. ” I can’t think clearly anymore.

THE PLOY

She waits patiently for one week. She is hopeful of getting the job. When no reply comes, she smells something fishy. She calls me, “Buddy, what is happening? Why is your friend taking so long? He can’t keep me hanging. If he delays anymore, I will reject his job offer.” I muster courage and tell her bluntly, “Listen, Veronica. I don’t think he will offer you a job.” She bursts out at me. “You don’t think or you know. Infact, you knew all along. You were just hiding it from me. You are hell bent on breaking a poor woman’s heart. You are a scoundrel. I will get even. You set me up for an interview with your friend, even though he had no intention of offering me a job. Levels to which men will stoop to just to have lunch with a beautiful woman. I will hand you and your friend over to the Police. You are both fraudsters.” She disconnects the call in a huff. I am impressed by her feats of imagination.

By evening she has blocked my number on WhatApp. She is not taking my calls. She has done that before. I know she is furious. My nineteen year old son walks in. I am happy with him. He has recently stopped drinking. I think it is a good thing and he is self-regulating. He smiles at me. “Dad, do you know why I quit drinking ? It spoils my game.” I am dumbfounded. He continues, “Ever since I started drinking in the evening, I have lost all my online CSGO games. My performance has suffered.” I think people have strange reasons for doing what they do? After he leaves, I wonder what were Veronica’s reasons for wanting a job? How serious was she about getting a job ? What was her motivation? Was it another ploy to get my attention? I recall my friend’s words, “She wants more meat in the relationship.” The relationship between me and Veronica so far is platonic. It has an ambiguous tone. I wonder what is in store next? I wager, it is time to rewrite the fault lines in our relationship. My only fear is that it will not happen the way I want it. I am the bakra (sacrificial goat). I check my WhatsApp. I am still blocked. I wonder how long it would take her to unblock me this time.