Chapter 6: Interrogation

     
      At precisely nine in the morning, Komol came knocking.

      "Madam ji, Mallu saab ji is calling you for breakfast."

      Breakfast as in eating or high speed emotional torture I wanted to ask but then, I kept it to myself. Singer was already seated when I entered room No. 20. High Highness was sitting on a beanbag with a look of disapproval and disgust on his face (it was probably normal expressions or maybe he was born with it!!!).  

      As soon as breakfast was over Mallu told singer to report to some new person called Chow in Room no 16. I was about to ask why is the mein missing from chow, it should be chowmein right??? Thankfully better sense prevailed and I checked my tongue in time. I must tell you all that I have this idiotic sense of humour which pops up in my head with real bad timing. At times, my instant tongue in cheek retorts have landed me in soups when I was in school. Blame it on the Pepsodent "Dhishum dhishum" ads that became my insipiration for facing my mom's wrath. During training period also the mental recapitulation of the Dhishum dhishum ad while getting scoldings always made me smile or giggle. The result was I kept doing front rolls till the one pulling me up got disgusted (Jai ho Pepsodent "Dhidhum Dhishum"!!!!).

      To cut a long story short, it took me lot of self control and practice to learn to keep my humorous thoughts to myself. Strange are the ways of mind, it goes tangent to another realm while on a subject. To come back to my narration, I got up to follow Singer but was signalled to remain seated. Mallu instructed Komol to leave us alone. You can imagine my mental state, I forgot all about the "Dhishum dhishum" ads that very instant.

      Silence.

      "Where did you go today morning?"

      "I didn't go anywhere sir, I was in my room."

      "Where did you go today morning before reporting in front of my room?" 

      The icy tone was sending shivers down my spine. My hands and feet had gone cold, in fact getting colder every second.

      "Nowhere sir. I came with Singer to report to you."

      "Exactly," he sneered.

      I couldn't fathom what he meant by that.

      "I am raising a charge sheet against you for disobeying my orders. You went into your friend's room against my wishes."

      "But sir, I did not enter her room."

      "Who knows, you might have set your foot inside," he said shrugging his shoulders.

      "I did not enter," i said in my defense.

     "You don't have any respect for seniors, you don't stick to laid down rules. You are a big time sissy, a behenji, you don't even know how to dress up," he rattled on sarcastically.

      My head was spinning and I felt myself seething inside. And then he said the unthinkable.

      "You are untrustworthy. You have a habit of lying."

     I had had enough of humiliation and I could not subject myself to further insults. I abruptly got up with a look of anger and defiance on my face. Believe you me, if looks could have killed, he would have been dead then.

      "Fine sir, do whatever you want to. I really don't care now. I am ready to face anything."

     I ran out of the room with anger writ large on my face. How could someone accuse me of lying!!! And why should I lie for such a trivial issue??? By the time I reached my room, I had made up my mind to fight it out the next day, my first day in office.

     Now, I have a confession to make. I was born with a defect. I cry when I am happy, I cry when I am angry. And tears are the add on depending on the temperature. The heat of my anger had resulted in tears streaming down my face as if a hose pipe attached to my tear glands had been turned on while I was running out of Room No. 20.

      There were exchanges of messages via cellphones.

      "Chow sir, mission accomplished. What about you?"

      "Another few minutes and then I too will succeed."

      "Ok."

      "Took the shots?"

      "Yes of course."

     "Great. Come and join me."