Anaya opened the door with her keys and found her mother’s door slightly ajar. She peeped in and found her mother gazing at her father’s photo. She shut the door softly and retired to her bedroom. After changing and freshening up, she sat on the windowsill overlooking the road. She felt the presence of her father next to her.

“Papa. Mujhe haar nahin manni chahiye na?”

“Kabhi nahin, beta. Tu to mari bahadur bachchi hai. Tu kaise haar maan sakti hai?”

“Lekin maine raasta shayad galat chun liya hai, Papa. Reporting deadend hai.”

“Dil jo raasta dikhata hai wohi sahi hota hai. Yaad hai na, ki ek baar hi sahi, lekin ek reporter ne hi sach likha tha.”

“Lekin waqt ki aandhi mein pata nahin kahan kho gaya woh. Delhi Kranti se mujhe koi information nahin mili us Kabir Sharma ke baare mein. Aur ab jo ek humnaam mila hai, woh to koi aur hi hai. Ye banda kya sach ki ladai ladega. Ye sirf TRPs ki ladai ladta hai.”

“You might be surprised, beta.”

“Main pagal ho rahi hoon, Papa. Aap yahan hain thode hi na. Main to bas apni man ki baaton ko aapki aawaaz mein sun rahi hoon.”

“Kya farq padta hai, Annie beta, ki kiske man ki baat hai, aur kiski aawaaz hai. Tu bhi sach hi dhoondh rahi hai aur main bhi sach hi batana chahta tha.”

“Papa. Maine aaj bhi kissi ko khud ko Annie nahin bulane deti. Ye bas aapka naam hai na mere liye. Main phir sunna chahti hoon ye naam. Aap wapas aayenge na, Papa?”

“Sach dhoondh le meri bachchi. Tu zaroor ye naam phir sunegi.”

—

“Ms. Kashyap, right?” Ananya had been looking for Ronnie in the conference room, but she found the ruling party chief sitting there.

“Ji. Hello, Mr. Bhat.”

“Mujhe to laga tha ki aaj ka interview aap karengi. Maine to isliye khushi-khushi yahan aaya tha.”

His leering face made her cringe, but before she could respond, Kabir’s voice boomed from behind, “Ghabrayein nahin, Bhat Sahab. Hum bhi camere ke saamne bure nahin lagte.”

“Are – aap kaise bure lagenge, Kabir Sahab. Aapke saamne to camera bhi chamak uthta hai. Time ho gaya?”

“Ji. Chaliye. Main aapko lene hi aaya hoon. Ms. Kashyap, aapko koi kaam tha?”

“Main Ronnie ko dhoondh rahi thi,” she replied without looking at him.

“Woh Malvika ke saath hai, PCR mein.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she slipped away. Kabir and Bhat together in the room was as nauseating as things could get. She felt like she would throw up her disgust.

—

“Ronnie. Main ghar ja rahi hoon. Bahut thak gayi hoon.”

Ronnie looked around to ensure that Malvika was not hearing them, then whispered to her, “Aaj hamare naye boss ka pahle bulletin hai. Dekh kar jaana, Ananya. Everybody is staying.”

“Mujhe nahin…”

“Ananya!” he grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Theek hai. Main yahin baithti hoon.”

“Okay. Chair pull kar le.”

—

“So, Mr. Bhat,” Kabir changed track during the the live interview after discussing party strategy for the upcoming polls, “Jo log public life mein hote hain, unke character par bhi janta ki aur hum media waalon ki kadi nazar hoti hai.”

“Ji bilkul.”

“Aur kal ek news aayi thi–”

Ananya straightened up in her chair.

“Kabir Sahab. Aap kitne dinon se is industry mein hain? Aapko to pata hai ki political rivals kaise gande-gande khel khelte hain doosron ko discredit karne ke liye. Media ke kandhe par bandook rakh kar chalate hain. Bas aisa hi ek khel ye news bhi hai.”

“To aapka kahna hai ki woh tasveerein jhoothi hain, jismein aap ek underage ladki ke saath zabardasti shaadi karte hue dikh rahe hain.”

“Tasveerein jhoothi nahin hain, Kabir Sahab.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tasveerein sahi hain. Kahaani jhoothi hai.”

“Woh kaise?”

“Woh mere ek dost ki bachchi hai. Underage nahin hai, maasoom dikhati hai. Uski shaadi ek achchhe ladke ke saath tay hui thi. Ab aap to jaante hain aaj-kal ke bachchon ko. Kissi gunde type ke ladke se pyaar mein pad gayi thi aur shaadi nahin karna chah rahi thi. To main bas use samjha raha tha.”

“Interesting. Yahan par hamein lena padega ek chhota sa break. Lekin kahin jaiyega nahin. Hamari baat-cheet jari rahegi Mr. Bhat ke saath, aur ek interesting turn legi. Milte hain, break ke baad.”

“Ronnie!” Kabir addressed them in the PCR after the camera was off, “Break ke baad, pahle clip 2 chalana, phir studio par camera aayega.”

“Aapke welcome statement se bhi pahle, Sir?”

“Haan.”

“Ye irregular hai, Sir.”

“It’s okay, Ronnie,” Malvika interrupted, “Kabir definitely knows what he is doing.”

“Fine, Malvika.”

“Thanks, Malvika,” Kabir flashed a smile to Malvika which Ananya realized was capable of disarming most women. If only he hadn’t proved himself to be so obnoxious, she would have fallen for it too.

She sat listlessly through the advertisements, but sprang out of her chair when the clip Kabir had asked for started playing. It was the one she had risked so much for the day before. She stared at the screen, Kabir and Bhat alternately. Bhat’s nostrils had started flaring. The footage, with the girl’s face blurred out, showed him forcing her to exchange garlands and taking pheras with him.

“Band karo ye bakwaas, abhi ke abhi, Kabir Sharma,” he growled.

“Kyon, Mr. Bhat? Ye doctored hoga video, surely?”

Bhat stormed out of the room while the clip was still playing.

“Kabir?” Malvika panicked.

“Don’t worry Malvika. Put me back on air after the clip is over.”

Anaya walked out of the PCR in a stupor. When she came to herself she was at her desk. Everyone around her was glued to the screen. She focused her attention back on Kabir.

“Darshakon ko ye bata doon ki ye footage already police ke paas hai, aur ise run karne se pahle ye ensure kar liya gaya tha ki victim ko Mr. Bhat ke farmhouse se rescue kar liya gaya hai.”

The rest of the bulletin passed in a blur. The excited murmur around the office also passed her by, until she found Kabir in front of her.

“So Ms. Kashyap? Happy?”

“Yes… Yes Sir. And thank you, Sir. Police aur rescue ke liye.”

“To thandh rakha kijiye. Aur apne judgment bhi hold kiya kijiye thode time tak.”

“Ji Sir,” she averted her eyes and gulped nervously.

“Maine footage apne friend Inspector Khurana ko diye the. Police may want to talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir.”

“And yes. It was good work. But don’t let this get to your head. Ek-aadh sting operations kar lene se koi journalist nahin ban jaata. Saalon tak consistently kaam karna padta hai.”

This piqued her for some reason and she became belligerent again, “Is duniya mein kameene logon ki kami thode hi ha na, Sir. Bas powerful aur paise waale bhi hote hain woh. Agar koi air karne ko taiyaar ho to roz aisi stories la sakti hoon main, aur phir bhi khatam na ho.”

“I see. To kab mil rahi hai hamein hamari next story?”

“Foty-eight hours mein?” her heart sank even as she said that. She had no decent leads with her. Where would she get anything like this in forty-eight hours?

“Forty-eight hours? Abhi to maine roz ki baat suni. Mujhe to laga tha ki mere kal ke bulletin ke liye kuchh dhamakedaar milega mujhe.”

“Haan to milega. Twenty-four hours mein milega.”

“Good. I am depending on you Ms. Kashyap. Aur haan – koi bollywood casting couch ki story mat laiyega. Those have long ceased to be news.”

“Main celebrity gossips cover nahin karti hoon, Sir!”

Kabir raised an eyebrow at that and gave her a crooked smile, then walked back to his cabin.

—

To be continued