‘You were wonderful,’ a lady at the next table said to Ananya’s mother.
Ananya’s father exchanged shy glances with his wife. S.P. sang Tere mere
beech mein from Ek Duje Ke Liye. I looked at Ananya. Our struggle resembled that
film’s story. I only hoped our end wouldn’t resemble that movie’s climax.
An hour into the concert, Bala came to my table.
‘Krish, come with me. I want you to meet Mr Muruguppa, famous jeweler,’ Bala
said.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Come, he wants to open a ten-crore account. Give him some bull on Citi. I
have to drop Anil at the airport.’
‘Sir, I have guests,’ I said as Ananya noticed my dilemma.
‘It’s fine, we will manage. Dinner’s over there, right?’ Ananya said.
‘Oh, so she is the one?’ Bala said and turned to Ananya. ‘Tamil teria?’
‘Let’s go, Bala,’ I said.
I met Mr Muruguppa, a fat, jovial, fifty-year-old.
‘Punjabi? Tamil ille?’ he said and gave me his card.
‘No. So you are the jewellery king?’
‘What king? Emperor! We are the biggest in Chennai.’
‘Sir regarding your account,’ I said as I noticed Ananya’s family from a
distance. They laughed together over dinner. Several people came up to
congratulate Ananya’s mother. The time to strike was not far away.
‘Mr Muruguppa, actually, I may need some jewellery myself,’ I said as I led him
to the dinner table.
nora
(Nora)
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