KOLKATA
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'Mamma...I have come to shopping with dad. Aapke lie kuch lena hai?' asked Rico innocently without knowing his parents were light years away from such a normal bonding.
'No love...Mamma doesn't need anything right now. You get your things.' Razia handled the situation carefully. But then the mention of 'shopping' brought something in her mind and she uttered, 'Rico yaad hai na beta...never buy more than you need'.
There were much deeper thoughts behind this simple looking advice of Razia. She never expressed but inside her Razia had already started feeling worried about Mirza's influence on her son...worried about his attitude, his flaws infecting her son too. Hence, she was more cautious in her efforts to keep Rico as much close to earth as possible.
'Yes mom...I know.' Replied Rico.
'Good. Chalo abhi phone rakho...and do your shopping. Ok?'
'Ok mom.'
Here the conversation ended, leaving Razia hovering over her motherly worries...hovering over the troubling questions, her mind pushed ahead.
'How long will I be able to keep him immune from HIS effects...how long...?'
Maybe it was a bit early...but Razia was not at all wrong in her worries...rather she had many reasons to have them. One of them was Mirza himself.
MUMBAI
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Life was never so strange for Altunia Mirza. A self centered man who never thought beyond his own target...own wishes...own desires, was for the first time feeling what it means to live for others. Since morning there was not even a single moment Mirza thought about him. It was all the way Rico. Rico's likes, his dislikes, his needs, his wishes - these meant the world for Mirza. He never found so much satisfaction in fulfilling other's wishes. It was a different experience all together.
Things were a bit different for the attendants in IMPERIAL as well. Few hours of this boy's arrival and they knew who this was and what importance he held in this house. Keeping in mind Mirza's concern for the boy, they took an extra effort to please this lil master. Irrespective of the rank, they all got one thing very clear...if Mirza was the PRESENT of the empire, then Hassan was the FUTURE. Hence they waste no time to welcome the prince with full heart.
Though Prince himself was a bit awkward initially. New place, so many new people around...and above all - a completely new way of life. Everything together added up to increase Rico's awkwardness. Till then he was living a different life...his world consisted of only two - he and his mother. From cooking to dropping him at school, Rico always seen his mother doing everything by herself. There was nobody to help or assist her. Not that she craved for any. In fact his mother always loved to do her work by her own. Even she encouraged Rico to do the same. But here in IMPERIAL everything was different. Mirza's portion alone had 15 to 20 attendants. A few of them were specially assigned to Rico. They were given the responsibility to take care of him. All in white uniform and always ready to take orders. Rico just needed to wish for a thing and it appears within minutes...no bargain, no refusal. Life was too easy here...unlike with his mother, where even fulfilling a necessity could take a month. As a kid Rico was taught to respect other's feelings...other's compulsions. He was taught not to make illegitimate demands. But here in IMPERIAL no demand was illegitimate. Anything the prince wishes for is an order which must be fulfilled. Be it a dish or something else. Rico was yet to get hold of the worth...he is of.
Next morning after Rico's arrival at IMPERIAL, Mirza decided to take his son out for shopping...to buy him some cloth and other stuff. Mirza himself preferred exclusive clothes...in fact he never bought anything from normal branded showrooms. But getting exclusive clothes for Rico would take time and he wanted to get him some suitable dresses as soon as possible. Whatever his son brought along with him from Kolkata, failed to please Mirza. He didn't find anything up to the mark in them. For Mirza...none of them were worthy enough to find a place in his son's wardrobe. Hence...a good round of shopping was imminent.
11:30 am...
Father son duo headed for the shopping mall in their black Porsche, surrounded by cars carrying Mirza's personal security stuff. It was only a few hours shop out for Mirza. But he had no idea what a hell amount of problems this one act going to give birth to.
Half an hour later...
Mirza entered the shopping mall with his son. One of his security men informed...kids section was on the third floor. They headed for it.
This arrival churned quite a flutter inside the mall. The person, who can only be seen in the front page of newspapers or on the cover of leading magazines, was walking down the corridors of a crowded mall...surprising indeed. People paused their shopping to have a glance at the most talked about figure in the world of business. Same was the condition of the shop keepers. In other words, the entire mall slipped into a standby mode to witness this arrival. Fully aware of these happenings around, Mirza kept on his quest for a suitable shop. These flutters didn't affect him anymore. This was a part of his regular life since he took over as chairman of IMPERIAL and joined the bandwagon of so called 'Public Figures'.
A good round of look-a-thon and finally Mirza found a shop...it was a bit better than others. He entered with Rico. Salespersons gulped seeing the newly arrived customer. They were looking at each other's face...trying to figure out who should go first and greet them. Finally the Manager of the shop came to rescue. He went to the gate to receive these NEW customers. 'Welcome to our shop Sir. What can we do for you?'
'Show me your kid's collection.' Uttered Mirza in an authoritative tone.
'Off course Sir. Please this way.' The manager showed Mirza the way to the kid's section. But before they could proceed any further, Mirza uttered, 'aaa...will you mind if my security men restrict the entry of this shop for some time, while we are here? I mean for security reasons.' It looked like a humble request but the tone in which Mirza spoke was no less than that of an order. The manager had to comply. 'Off course Sir. It's our pleasure to have you here.'
Giving a signal to his security staff, Mirza proceeded towards the kid's store...he didn't even bother to reply back the speaker. Well...not that the manager expected any.
5 minutes later...
'Sir...these are our best collections. Ekdam naya hai.' Spoke the manager with proud face.
'I see...but one thing I didn't get.' Mirza was surfing through the t-shirts.
'What is it Sir?'
'Why every design has so many copies? I mean you have the same design in various sizes, in various colours. Why?' Mirza was visibly annoyed at this finding of him. But the manager failed to fathom the reason behind this annoyance. After all that's how the branded clothes are being sold for years!!!
'Sir...readymade garments me toh aisa hi hota hai. People choose the design according to their sizes and preferred colour.'
'What!!! You mean hundreds of people wear similar looking clothes!!!' the man in bottega veneta couldn't hold his surprise. And why not!!! Mirza has always lived his life exclusively...from his clothes to his shoes...nothing ever had any parallel. EXCLUSIVE...that's what fashion meant to him. He couldn't even think of in his wildest dream that hundreds of people wearing similar clothes...walking on same earth. He was all surprised and annoyed to top all. 'In such case...where is the exclusivity of a product? It's all damn common.'
'Sir...exclusive product ke liye...you will have to order separately. Then only we can get you exclusive stuff.' The manager explained with utmost modesty, making sure it doesn't aggravate Mirza's annoyance at any cost.
'Fine...then send in somebody with designs to my home. I will order. But now I need to buy something. That's urgent.' With this Mirza turned to his son who was nearly lost in variety. 'Hassan do you like anything?'
'Yes Dad. The red one, blue one and the black one.' Without wasting any time, Rico told his father enthusiastically. But Mirza didn't seem quite happy with his boy's selections...more precisely with the number of his selections. 'Just three!!! Get a few more. Let me select it for you.' Mirza went ahead across the rows and picked seven more t-shirt. Here Rico hesitated a bit. Words of his mother echoed in his mind.
'Never buy more than you need.'
Rico was sure of the fact that he didn't need 10 t-shirts right now. But he didn't know how to stop his father...how to convey him that he doesn't need them now. Rico tried to utter something...'I...I...don't need...' But before he could finish of Mirza picked him up in his lap and moved towards the shoe section. 'Come...now we will get the shoes'.
'kaun kaun sa chahiye???' Mirza asked his boy, who was still trying hard to communicate to his father. Mirza waited for his reply...but it never came. 'hassan...chose your shoes fast beta...Dad need to go to office.' Here Mirza sounded a bit impatient.
'Dad...I don't need shoes.' Fighting off his hesitations Rico finally uttered loud. But it didn't go down well with Mirza.
'What! What do you mean by you don't need?' Rico's words ruffled Mirza.
'Dad...mom says we shouldn't buy more than we need. And I already have four shoes. So I don't need any more right now.' Lil master explained his point in his sweet voice. Now this did strike the cord with Mirza. He knew...words might be of Hassan but thought behind it was surely of Razia...HIS Razia.
Mere thought of Razia spread a delight through Mirza. He felt as if somebody nourished his ruffled soul within no time. His agitated self cooled within a fraction of second. Mirza looked at his son again, but this time with a smile on his face.
'Your Mom is right son. You shouldn't buy more than you need. But who says you don't need them. Do you have separate shoes for squash and cricket? I don't think so...Do you have walking shoes? No. Do you have sufficient casual shoes and light sneakers? Again a NO. See...you only have four shoes...which are of no specific occasion. Then tell me Hassan...how come you don't need a new one?' He could never negate Razia...but that surely not stop him from being Mirza.
'But Dad, do we really need to wear separate shoes for every separate occasion?' that was something Rico heard for first time.
'Yes love...that's what the etiquette says...I mean society me aisa hi hota hai. Don't worry...tum bohot chote ho...that's why Mom didn't tell you all.' With this Mirza knew his job is done.
'Hmm...ok...then shoes le lete hai...' Rico turned his attention to the shoe racks.
Ten minutes later...
'Pack the stuff and send them to my car.' Mirza ordered the manager who was finally relieved after crossing the storm unharmed. 'Sure Sir...my pleasure...'
Without even looking back at the manager Mirza turned his gaze to his son, who was lazily resting his head on Mirza's shoulder. Mirza kissed on his forehead and uttered, 'Hassan...do you want sports cars?' this question of his father shook Rico out of his laziness. Mirza read the answer in his son's gleaming eyes.
The father son duo headed for the toy shop on the other side of the floor. But before they could enter the shop, a sudden flashlight caught Mirza's attention. Somebody standing nearby just clicked a photo with his camera. Mirza's security men rushed to the guy and nabbed him. They looked at their boss for further order.
'Just delete the picture.' Delivering the order Mirza entered the shop with his son in his arms.
'Sir please...hand over the camera.' One of Mirza's security staff requested the guy.
'I won't...I mean...it's just a photo...what's wrong with it?' argued the guy.
'Sir you WILL have to delete the photo. Please don't waste our time.' Uttered another security man, this time in a tougher tone.
'Look am a Journalist. You can't interfere in my Job.' The guy tried to retort back.
'Whoever you are Sir...if you don't delete the picture right now, we gonna break the camera for sure.' The bulky bodyguard of Mirza gave the ultimatum.
Now this voice conveyed the ultimate warning to the guy. He got the fact that...he had no other option but to comply with. Hence, after weighing all his chances, the guy finally handed over the camera to the bodyguard...who swiftly put the memory chip on format.
After checking the camera for sixth time, finally Mirza's bodyguard returned it to the guy. 'Thank you for your kind cooperation...Sir.' Rendering a not so polite 'thank you', security men walked up to the shop, where Mirza was buying sports car with Rico. They took position outside. Things returned to normalcy on the floor...well...not completely. The entire episode left the guy fuming in anger.
'Fine...no picture. Tasveer ko toh rok liya...magar news ko kaise rokoge Altunia mirza? Ab toh baki ki baten kal ka newspaper dekhne ke baad hi hogi.' The guy left the place with a smirk. Blowing the bugle of a new war.
Next morning...6.30 am
Ring...Ring...Ring...
The landline placed on Mirza's bedside table, started ringing for third time. This ring finished the job its previous two versions left unfinished...it crushed Mirza's sleep. Sound of this ring sent Mirza's rage to the top. He finally threw the quilt away from his face and picked up the call. 'Who the hell is this?' Mirza roared in a suppressed tone.
'Mirza it's me...' uttered Abdul.
'Kya yaar...neend kharab karega mere bachhe ki...' an annoyed Mirza checked his son if this ring broke his sleep...but the sight made him relieved...Rico was quietly sleeping beside. After checking his quilt, Mirza again returned to the call, 'Ab bol...why you called so early?'
'Mirza go and check today's TIMES.' There was eagerness in Abdul's voice.
'Ab aisa kya chapa...aaa...kamino ne?' Mirza uttered in between his yawns. He was actually used to the scores of gossips and scoops about him that keep doing around in media. These hardly bother them anymore. Hence Abdul's news was 'no news' for Mirza. But the name he took next was grave enough to pull Mirza out of bed.
'They published about Hassan.'
'What!!!' name of his son awakened the senses of mirza. Within a fraction of second he was on his foot.
'Ok...I'll call you back.' Mirza hung the phone rushed out of his bedroom.
Eight column news on the front page. Mirza quickly glanced the title, and then shifted his eyes to first few lines of the article. The more he kept on reading, stiffer his face became. With every line, he could sense his anger breaking every barrier...marching to the top. Within no time Mirza's face turned rock stiff...eyes blood red, as if a glance would be enough to kill a man. Mirza felt like bringing the world down then and there. Before he could reach the end of the article, he threw the paper aside and grunted, 'Assh***'.
KOLKATA
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'Razia have you seen today's paper?' Asked Rinki enthusiastically. There was still half an hour to go before the classes to begin. Till then they were all sitting in the teacher's room...and brushing up their regular gossip updates. Razia always stayed aloof from such activities but sometimes other's enthusiasm cracks your resolve.
'Bata na...aaj ka paper dekhi?' Rinki went again.
'I don't read newspapers.' Razia tried to get a home run but failed miserably by Rinki's next words. 'Koyee gal nehi...main batati hoon kya chapa hai...' hearing this from Rinki, Razia simply hung her boots here. She knew...if Rinki decides to ride on even God Himself can't push the break. Just as expected...without wasting any time further, Rinki started her aaj ki tazza khabar 'You know Altunia mirza has a SON!!!' while saying this Rinki's propped out eyes perfectly matched the 'O' in SON. She continued, 'Kal aapne bete ko shopping pe leke gaya tha...his son was calling him DAD!!! Can you imagine!!!'
'Not even in dreams', uttered Razia in a disinterested voice without even shifting her gaze from the notebook. But that hardly mattered to Rinki. She continued, 'pata hai Hassan ki ma kaun hai?'
Now this shook the earth beneath Razia. It ran an alarmed through her. She reacted unconsciously, 'Kaun hai?'
'Oho...tujhe bari interest hai!!! Abhi kya boli...main newspaper nehi padti. Jhuti!!! Anyways...main bata hi deti hoon. See they wrote about two possibilities. First, yeh Mirza jin ladkiyon ke sath firta hai...I mean those random girls he has around...it can be one of them. Second...' here Rinki paused to take breath...then started again, 'secondly, maybe he has a secret girlfriend. It can be her son'. With this Rinki ended her bulletin. Razia breathed relief and again concentrated in her notebook.
'I don't think it's from his girlfriend. Aisa hota toh...he would have taken custody of his son much earlier. Why would his girlfriend keep the son for 5 years then hand him over to Mirza? That sounds too unconvincing.' Now Ridhima joined the guess-game from extreme left corner.
'Then what do you think?' asked Rinki.
'I think he has a wife. For some reasons he is keeping his relationship in dark.' Uttered Ridhima confidently.
'You are such a dhakkan I tell you! The MAN, who has never been seen twice with the same girl, is married!!! That too secretly!!! Have you lost it!!!' Rinki almost blasted at Ridhima. But Ridhima's reply pushed Rinki to thought...and Razia...to uneasiness. 'May be that's why he has never been seen twice with the same girl. See...I have no idea what exactly have taken place...but I can refer to an interview Mirza gave to a magazine last year...he was asked, when will he get married? He replied, I wanted to...four and half years back but couldn't. Now...I don't think I will ever get married. That was the interview. Abhi Mirza is seen with his son. According to media reports...the kid is of about 5 years. I think these all together says a lot.'
As soon as Ridhima finished, Razia stood up to leave. The entire analysis raised Razia's heart beat to a dangerous level. She knew that it was nearly impossible for Ridhima to dig out the truth, but these details somehow pushed her to extreme uneasiness. Last few years of her life has gifted her THIS vulnerability. If somebody asks her anything about her personal life, however general it is, her heart raises a suspicion...does the guy know about her? Is he sent by Mirza? Now that phrase is over...but now she has a new TRUTH to worry about. Her marriage with Mirza.
Ridhima's words stroked that worried nerve of Razia...raised her heart beat dangerously. Growing anxiety could easily be seen on Razia's face. Even she herself was aware of this. That's why Razia just wanted to ran away from the place...so that she could hide her expressions from those eyes. But she couldn't. Ridhima stopped her. 'Where are you going Razia? There is still 10 minutes to start the classes.'
'I know...but...I just...wanted to attain early.' Razia stumbled upon her words as she tried to gather her stuff. Nervousness was evident in her messy attempts. This didn't escape Ridhima's gaze. 'Razia...are you ok? Tabiyat toh thik hai tumhari?'
'Yah...just...kal thora fever tha...' Razia tried to manage the situation.
'Ohh...are you sure there's nothing serious? I mean...you will be able to take classes na?' asked Ridhima.
'Yah...I will be fine. Don't worry.' With this Razia left the room in hurry. She couldn't afford anymore leak ups.
'Bechari...kitni sincere hai...fever me bhi class lene agayi', Rinki uttered to Ridhima.
'I hope fever hi tha...' uttered Ridhima before leaning back on the chair again. One thing this smart lady was sure of...whatever happened to Razia's health happened in last few minutes...be it fever or something else.
MUMBAI
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'I will kill these bas***ds. How can they write such stuff about my son! How can they write something so cheap about my...about my son's mother! I will sue them to ashes.' Mirza roared at the top of his voice.
Abdul was trying to cool down his friend for last half an hour but still no result. 'Mirza...we have already sent them legal notice. And I personally made sure that that bast**d journalist has been fired.' Abdul went again to pacify Mirza. But failing his effort again, Mirza banged his fists on the table with full force and roared, 'that is not enough Abdul. Ask them to publish an apology. On page one. At the same place. Do you have my point?'
'Alright...I will make this happen too.' With this Abdul placed his hand on Mirza's shoulder and uttered softly, 'Sab ho jayega...now you cool down. So much anger is not good for your health.'
Here Nadarad intervened for first time, till now she was silently inhaling the entire fiasco. 'Actually Mirza, its big news that you have a son...so...' before Nadarad could finish Mirza began, 'Choti Ammi...I don't have any problem in their breaking the news that I have a son. Main khud media ko batane wala tha. But who gave them authority to write such stuff about Hasaan's mother...how they dare call her random! What do they know about her!...bloody...'
'But Mirza...they don't know anything about her...so they...speculated.' Nadarad threw her crafted words at Mirza. Intention? Well...not tough to guess.
'Speculation ki m...' looking at Nadarad's face Mirza somehow controlled his outburst at the last moment. But almost hissed in a controlled but harsh tone, 'no matter what the situation is...I will never tolerate such sh*t about her. And I will make sure...yeh baat sab pe roshan rahe...(everybody keep this in mind)' Throwing a final glance at Nadarad Mirza left the room, followed by Abdul. Mirza didn't utter anything else, but what he told was enough to start a storm in Nadarad's mind. She sensed her worry looming large there. 'Ek article...chaar line...ek word...our ITNA GUSSA!!! Never seen Mirza so possessive about anybody...never. That means...aag bahar jitna dikh raha hai...usse kahin jyada ander hai...(there's much more behind than what's in front). Ek baat toh pakki hai...Mirza is hiding something really big from us...and that's solely related to the women who gave birth to his son...Shaheen...lagta hai...tere achhe din toh gaye...' Glimpse of Shaheen's possible future, brought a faint smile on otherwise TENSED Nadarad's face.
PRECAP: same...(sorry for aping CVs here...)
CID
