Poles Apart

Chapter Forty

Around afternoon, on Sunday, I wake up to the headlines about the Rathi's selling Zēlos' shares.

My sleepy haze wears out as soon as I read the title of the article.

A quote by Dharmendra Rathi himself, Kalyan's uncle, is included in the writing. "Due to personal circumstances, we are moving out of business with Zēlos. This is what we deem is best for the future of both the businesses involved."

As much as I wanted to know what Karthik and Nanna did, I was much too tired to deal with it.

Let it go, I told myself. It's over.

With that thought, I went down the stairs to get my mother started on her taunts about my sleep pattern.

~.~.~.~.~

"There are some formalities to be sorted out at the port," Prashant, the CFO says.

"What formalities?" I ask, looking up from the documents.

"Formalities," the marketing manager, Vishal stresses.

"Right," I realise. Formalities including greasing the palms of a couple of people, sending them some gifts and getting our work done.

"Why's that taking so long?" Karthik asks.

"Chief's put us on hold, Karthik," the General Manager, Harinder supplies.

Karthik simply nods his head. Chief, who, you ask? Father. Our father's the chief. At times, even I feel like we're running a mob.

My phone buzzes on the table, causing it to vibrate, and everyone looks at me.

"Sorry," I apologise, recognising my mother's caller ID and then silencing it. I'll call her back after the meeting.

Karthik raises his eyebrows at me, asking about it, and I shrug back at him, mouthing 'mom'.

No sooner than that interaction happens, my phone starts to vibrate once again. I sigh and excuse myself.

"Hel—"

My mother doesn't even wait for me to greet her. "Why aren't you picking up your phone? What do you have a phone for, if you won't pick it up? Put it on fire!"

I wince, pulling it away from my ear. My mother yells loud enough for the employees passing by to hear.

"Don't you have a mother?" I snap at a colleague who turns to look my way.

Despite my rude tone, she gives me an apologetic look as she walks past me, as though sympathising with me for a mother like mine.

"Are you even listening to me?" Amma yells louder, making me cringe at her tone.

"Mom," I try to cajole her. "I'll call you back, I'm in a meeting."

"Oh, you should've said so, then," she says, in a tone so calm it makes me think I was delusional to have thought she was yelling at me less than a minute ago.

I hoped not picking up would give away some sort of a hint that I was busy, but apparently not. "Yes, I should have. "I'm sorry. Can I call you back?"

"Yes, yes. Call me back," she agrees.

"Okay. Bye, ma."

"Bye, bye," my mother says absent-mindedly.

Heaving a breath of relief, I completely silence my phone, taking it off vibration too as I go back inside the meeting room.

"Sir, you're all married, and happy," I hear Vishal say, as I enter the room. "I'm thirty-five, unmarried and a marketing manager," he complains.

"What's wrong with that?" I ask him, casually, joining in on the conversation.