Hi there beautiful girls,
How are you doing. 😃
Love you all! Muah. Here is the next update.
I know all of you are finding it hard to look at this without getting TSWL inside your head. All I can say at this point is, hang in there. Let me know if you wish to read something else from me to get over it. 😊
And for those of you who feel I need to write this way and that. Well your feedback as always is welcome. But kindly do not lose patience if I choose not to follow it. I am a hippo you know, I love water, move very slowly, have a thick head and an even thicker skin 😃.
And answering questions. Again, I don't usually explain it if it is part of the story coming up. Please do not interpret it as me being rude.
@Ritzy - Elastigirl ke bareh mai mujhe kuch pata nahi hain. 😔. And so I cannot write something there. And I won't even understand the hidden jokes and all that. So please don't mind if I don't participate right away. For others, please check the below thread out. It has many established writers writing awesome OSes.
Link - https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/geet-hui-sabse-parayee/3389098/mg-os-cotw-wk-11-os1-pg-119-thread-2-link-pg1-119
@dona86 - I know you had sent me a link for writers. I was not sure what to write about myself. 😳. So just skipped that. I am a dork sometimes.
Chap 19:
Geet Frank:
Waves of trepidation
"Mr President, you have to board the titaniumic ship now. The world is shrinking and this time it is just plain old water, not technology."
Maan shook his head "No, I am staying with my people. The folks here need a leader who would hold their hands in misery. Will pray so their souls reach heaven. Let the leader with British accent take over the ship. I cannot do it. I belong with the people, not technology. I am ready for the apocalypse, now. Hail the Mayans!"
Vicky was nearly in tears "No Mr President, as a scientist and a fellow torch bearer of technological advances I choose you to become the President of the world. Please board the ship. I beg you."
Maan banged his hands on the desk and was immersed in soulful misery. His eyes moistened. His shoulders were drooping as a sign of submission to the will of the Lord.
Maan "Promise me one thing. Just one thing."
Vicky "Anything Mr President, anything."
Maan "Just teach my children how to play chess. You are the only one who can tell them my methods."
Vicky wailed in exasperation "NO! We forgot to pack the books of the past grandmasters of the game. You are the only mind that has it all captured in your memory. The game will be lost forever if you don't board the ship. Come on."
Maan "Just remember one thing. The horse moves in right angles. Go my son. Go!"
Geet:
Geet awoke with a start. Something told her to reach below her pillow and fetch her diary. She read its contents with shock. It was her writing. It was all people she knew. A chill ran down her spine. She had not written it. She had fallen asleep the previous night without much thought. She remembered not even looking at her diary. It was just not possible. Who could have written it then? Had she woken up in the middle of the night and written all that nonsense? Hey Babaji, she was sleep-writing!!
She immediately reached for the glass of water beside her. This was scary as hell. Her back was sweaty. She did not even know the word 'trepidation' and that was the story's title. She grabbed and unlocked her phone. Typed in the word in the wonderful expansive dictionary. It said 'trepidation=alarm or fear'. Which was exactly what she was feeling at that moment.
What did this mean? Had she written what she had dreamt of and just plain forgotten about it. The handwriting was from Delhi to Madras. And the words were all topsy-turvy. So in all probability she had just scribbled it with half open eyes. She checked back on what she really remembered about chess. It was just about the horse. She remembered that it moved in right angles. But how was that significant?
She thought back on her interaction with Maan on the previous day after the debate. It was nothing to dream write about.
Previous day after the debate:
"Those were some pat replies. I am impressed.", said Maan after Mihir had walked away.
Don't blow it Geet. He is impressed. Play it cool.
Geet said in a matter of fact tone "Usually I think about these things and anyway Press is a general thing na. Everyone keeps discussing it."
Maan nodded "One piece of trivia. Did you know that some of the news reporters do not work off a script? They talk extempore."
Geet looked at him surprised.
Maan curved his lips "Yes of course you would know what it is like to speak in front of a crowd. Your fear was palpable at the book signing and voice was incomparable to what it is now. You must be well aware of how hard it is to talk about things in front of a live audience in the heat of the moment. So these journalists work hard to have all kinds of information at their finger tips before they even say a word. Like them or hate them, you cannot help admiring them."
Geet gave a sheepish smile. She was barely listening to his words. She was just seeing his grungy face, his lips moving and deep sounds coming out that felt like soothing music. Her friends usually said it meant something when one looked at a guy's lips when he was speaking instead of his eyes. Her brain had stopped functioning, so she could not recollect the exact thing. Something akin to difference between love and lust. Whatever. It did not matter either way now, did it?
Maan said in a tone that could be put as 'mildly patronizing' "Of course, no one debates about personal issues. So Geet see you when I see you."
She looked at him walking away. She came back to her desk feeling stupid all over. Of course because she was positively behaving like a hormonal dumb ass.
She had come straight home after that interaction unable to bear her own stupidity. She had gotten busy entertaining a couple of Veerji's guests as usual and had fallen asleep almost feeling drugged with exhaustion.
Well her dreams had to wait. Life was calling.
She started to go about her usual day. Upon reaching office, she saw Dev's calendar and learned he had gone out of station for a factory visit. He had left her instructions on the people to call and the status update to provide. Gingerly she picked up the phone to call the first person.
Geet "Hello Mr Shiven, I am secretary for Dev Khurana speaking. I was asked to inform you that the shipment for iron railings have been delayed. There was a transport issue. So we may not be able to make the inauguration on time…."
The moment that guy heard the word 'not' he began lambasting "I was informed that we would be getting the centering pieces and the railings today. That supervisor was useless. Whatever question I ask same answer, 'I will ask my boss and get back to you'. I had to call your office directly only to get to know that the order for shipment itself has not been placed. Then I make a couple of calls to the architect herself and that lady promised me that the centering would begin today and there would be no more delays. I am now being told by a useless secretary that again there is a delay? I have to face the client tomorrow and answer his questions. This is the third time this is happening. Why are you calling me anyway? Where is Dev Khurana? I want to talk to him. Nothing works unless I speak with the top person. I just don't understand….."
And Maan was saying call centre was easier. At least there they could work off a 'script'. Here she was expected to be extempore.
Shiven "Instead of you telling me you will talk to your boss and get back, let me speak to him myself. I don't have his cell phone number else I would have called him directly."
"He is out of station.", she said quietly.
Shiven "Very convenient huh. I don't know what outfit you guys are running over there. I just don't understand why you have to do all this circus to buy time. When you know you cannot deliver why do you promise? I cannot believe I called my boss all the way out here for nothing. Now what will I tell him? I just.."
Geet was nursing her forehead. She wanted to tell him she was not the one who was supposed to order the shipment. She was not the one who had promised him. She was not the one who was doing 'circus'. She was just the messenger. Why was he shooting her?
But as it turned out that was the most usual thing. Every call she made was worse than the previous. Apparently in this business 'No news was good news'. If one received or made a call it was a sign of trouble. And she was the one who had to make all the calls when Dracula sat pretty in his office. Neat.
At the end of a whole day of badgering she was exhausted beyond comprehension. Was this what her life was going to be like? Receiving and making calls. Just conveying information from one place to another. Be a punching bag for her boss every now and then. She was not cut out for this. She could not believe that she had gotten herself into this cursed place. Yes there was the happy club whose name itself felt like an oxymoron. Who visited a club when they were in a happy state of mind? Who needed a place to play when one had lots of caring people in their lives. She could not bear that the activity of her entire day could be mentioned in passing with a mere phrase.
She wanted more. She wanted beyond. And she had just been there all but a few days. It was as if she were at the viewing end of a periscope. At right angles from whatever she was viewing. And what did she see? Many people with serious faces doing what seemed like very important jobs. So many of other people came to visit their desks asking them important questions. And the said people nodded along and gave thoughtful looking responses. Why couldn't she be part of this entire game? Why was she sitting on the sidelines watching and making stupid calls. She felt an unbridled force inside her to do something extraordinary. It almost threatened to spill out in the form of uncontained emotions and incoherent thoughts. She felt ambition.
She stopped thinking suddenly and let it brew for a while. Right angles, horse. Was she supposed to be like the knight of the game that was being played here? Did being a secretary involve just looking at other people, making reports about them whilst remaining detached? Yes she was just theorizing her life so it made sense and it became livable. And it felt good to connect the mundane things she did to something different. Otherwise life officially sucked.
She decided to visit the happy club anyway. She was the most so not happening person in office and she was not going to be picky about her pastime. Anything to push the tempo.
She walked into the room and did not find many people. Just Maan and Naintara hunched over the chess board looking as grave as undertakers. This Tara lady played chess? Geet was now officially hating the woman. Naintara had no right to be so perfect.
Tara "MK, I told you it is check mate. Let me win this one rare time please."
Maan looked at Tara with a look that could kill "Tara, I don't do mercy."
Tara rolled her eyes "Started with your philosophy. It is just a stupid game. And I am asking you to just accept that you are losing. Not to 'let me win'."
Maan was still concentrating on the board. Geet saw the game with more pieces outside the board than inside. It seemed like there had been lots of bloodshed. She grabbed one more chair and sat by the chess table. She looked at the piece that was the head of the horse. It was the only piece that moved in right angles. The only piece that had a way of moving that even the Queen did not possess. Knight looked at the game from an awkward angle but apparently Maan considered the knight an important piece. It was still in the game while his Queen was lying beside the board lifeless.
Maan "Alright you win Tara. It is indeed check mate."
Tara looked as if she had had a tub of ice cream "Oh my God! I cannot believe it. Today is my day. I was able to better Maan Singh Khurana."
Maan smiled "Tomorrow is another day."
Geet "So you guys like play everyday?"
Maan "If we can find the time, yes."
Geet "How does one win in this game?"
Maan smirked "And you are asking this to the person who just lost one?"
Tara laughed slightly.
Geet "Because I see that you have bet on the dark horse instead of the queen."
Maan laughed "That is deep! Geet, at the end of a long day I do not have the energy to think so much. Do you think we have time to sit and play entire tournaments here?"
He held up a book. It was a book titled 'Your friendly neighborhood Grandmaster'. Nice catchy title.
He shrugged "This book has games starting at crucial points where it is difficult for both the players. It saves a lot of time while always keeping the game nail biting."
Geet sighed "I am sure there must be some app for this. Why bother coming into this room and playing?"
Tara "Ah the young and the restless. Geet, for everything there is an app. But apps do not mean real people."
Did Geet say they were? For some reason she felt highly irritated by all this.
Geet smiled "But don't you think there is another way to play this game to make it more interesting?"
Tara nodded "Yes there is one more thing they play with those carom pieces on this."
Geet shook her head gravely. She felt the urge to disagree with everybody. It was the only way she could appear smarter.
Geet "What I meant was instead of placing the King and the pieces around him, to make the game more challenging why not use pieces to pinpoint the places that are vulnerable to the King? It would make for more number of possibilities."
Tara "What are you saying? I don't get it."
Maan's eyes narrowed towards Geet. Good.
Maan "Continue Geet. What do you mean by that?"
Geet "See I had seen my Daarji having a book with the games that old grandmasters used to play. And the various check mate moves. So choose a game, place the pieces in a way that would check mate the King in about a couple of moves. But do not place the King on the board. Allow the other player to guess which is the vulnerable position for the King that might get him into trouble and place the King in that position."
Tara "Oh my God. Relaaax! You are making this out to be some international tournament. What is the big use of playing such a game? I mean we have enough to think about as it is. I only play for relaxation. I have no intention of making this my life vocation. It is just entertainment."
Nice try lady. But Tara was not going to get away with her schemes to charm 'MK'. Geet's moves were better than lame physical display or contact.
Geet "It helps in forward thinking. It helps you plan games ahead. It helps one understand that what places the King must not occupy to avoid trouble. It helps one build a strong defense. Also sometimes it is mentally unsettling and at the same time stimulating to know the bad ending and plan things around it. Instead of a game of outwitting and stealth, it becomes a game of mental strength, memory and stamina to hold the various combination of the piece movements in our head."
Tara looked obligingly thoughtful "Yes when you put it that way I suppose it makes sense."
Geet "Credit goes to my grandfather. He used to tell me, when you want to shake things up, instead of changing the system just change a few rules. New wine in an old bottle."
Maan was in deep thought. He was looking at her but his thoughts seemed far away. "New wine in an old bottle?"
Geet just shrugged. There was a tense silence in the room. One could only hear an odd bird chirping in the distance.
Finally Tara "Geet, it was nice talking to you. Hope we can go out for a coffee sometime. What say MK?"
Tara looked at her watch and had an expression of slight alarm "Shit. I had an appointment. Got to rush. Thanks for the game MK. And bye Geet."
Geet's eyes were now alight with complete observation. She wanted to see whether he would look at Tara walking away or at Geet. She was superstitious. She believed in signs. She was waiting with bated nervous breath. Counting the petals of an imaginary flower in her head in supersonic speed.
He did neither. He looked back at the board. She stared at him. Something about that did not sit right with her. She could not pin point her finger at it exactly. But she had an almost self effacing feeling of safety. Very strange.
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