‘I’m sorry,’ I said, composing myself.
‘No, you are right. I am useless,’ he said, his voice quivering. I became worried
he’d cry.
‘I didn’t say that. We made this, right?’ I pointed to my laptop.
‘You think I should present? Will I be able to?’ he asked.
‘You will kick ass,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Sorry, I said you need ice?’
He shook his head.
‘You’ll be fine. Tell Verma you will present this. Don’t give him a copy.’
‘I’ll fight with him?’
‘Yes, if you call it that,’ I said. ‘And make sure from now on, people know about
the work you do. Look at Bala, my boss. He copies the country manager on
everything. Bala briefed the country manager about the food menu for this stupid
local concert we are having next month. You definitely have to get noticed, you
don’t have to work. That’s how corporates work, everyone knows it.’
Uncle nodded and fell deep in thought. I checked the time: 2 a.m. I couldn’t
control a yawn.
‘OK, we should go to bed,’ uncle said and stood up. ‘Wait.’ He came back with
a lungi and a vest. ‘Here, will this do?’
You got to be kidding me, I wanted to say, but said, ‘Perfect.’
Uncle showed me the guestroom. I sat down on the bed with the nightclothes
in my lap.
‘What do you want to be? MD at Citibank?’ uncle asked me as he reached the
door to leave my room.
‘A writer,’ I said.
‘Excuse me,’ he said and his tired body became alert again.
‘MD, country manager, I don’t care, It’s not me,’ I said.
nora
(Nora)
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