Betrayed By Time

It was a tall, an exceptionally tall building, one among a cluster of six. The orderliness was distinct, and the glass panes of the buildings reflected bright against one another. It was a hot afternoon in mid-May, and the summer was as unkind as it was likely to be. The Sun showered the Earth with a bright, fiery fury. The world slowed down in the face of a formidable force. A few people lazily sat about on the platform, a mixed gender group, smoking. The Sun bright, almost angry and the cars stood with certain stubborn audacity in the open parking, unmoved by the fury falling from the skies. Except for few of the office staff taking a walk in a desperate attempt against burgeoning waistlines and some guards in an anxious effort to fight the escalating inflation, the streets were mostly empty. The big glass doors of the buildings stood passive, but for the occasional unlucky, reluctant few, forced to step out into the harsh sun.

He strode out of the large, glass paned door. He looked unperturbed by the sun and was lost in some thought. He was tall, with a head full of unruly hair, which fell on his forehead. He wore dark trousers and a white shirt, with a linen jacket over it. He disliked wearing the jacket, and the heat of this unfriendly summer did not help much. But then, there was an unsaid rule for the formal meetings. He rued at times being in sales for many reasons, having to wear a jacket was one of them. But today was different. He did not mind it at all. The linen suddenly felt light, soft and cold today. He took out the sunglasses, with the deftness of a swash-buckling classic western hero taking out a gun and walked to his car, parked towards the gate of the office grounds.

He was not attempting to hide from the Sun. His was a face of satisfied gloom. He was content about a job well done, and having finished it, an emptiness rose from the inside of his heart. He shook his head and walked with the rhythm of a victory march beating in his mind. He was coming out of a big business transaction which he just concluded. He did it, and he did it single-handedly. The ordeal went on day after day, month after month, for close to half of a year.

He ran in his mind what transpired back there in the building.

He remembered the interesting but idiotic discussion, he was having inside half an hour back. Mr. Bansal, had placed his large being in the small chaired and was kind of enjoying the discussion. He knew he held the key and gloated in ecstasy of power. He swung the chair like a little kid and looked at two of his colleague. Both of them sat with an expression of serene servility on their face.

With a menacing smile, Mr. Bansal spoke, when he felt that the anticipation was strong enough to carry his statement to some poetic heights.

“Well, Sarthak.” He paused for effect and looked at his minion, ”You have won the RFP by good margin but that doesn’t mean that the business is certain.”

He was pleased with himself- what a statement, what voice, what delivery.

“Why, what is missing, Sir?” Sarthak responded. He knew very well, where he was heading, but he wanted to honor his customer’s intellect by insulting his own.

“It will not go through at this price.”

“It would be very sad, Mr. Bansal. After six months of work on specifications, bid evaluation, we are sitting here, with our prices around Ten Mill’ below the competition, are we going to throw it away?”

The rocking of Mr. Bansal’s chair stopped. His eyes contracted as he looked at Sarthak. Sarthak looked into his eyes. Was he smiling? Was it a smirk that just slipped from the corner of his lips? Bansal thought, no, there is no disrespect there, it was a kind, friendly smile. But he knew the threat was lost, it was not hitting where it should have. It is not about the deal, it is about the respect. His bluff was just called off and it lied on the large table between them like a little, famished puppy with its tail between its legs.