Applause greeted Maan as he entered the boardroom.
A firm grip held Maan's shoulder. "And here is the man of the hour, our very own, Maan!" boomed a voice by Maan's ear.
"Arjun Sir, thank you so much," said Maan when he finally found his voice. He reached out and shook Arjun's hand, reassured by his broad smile.
"Well done, young man. You've done us all proud," said Arjun as he nearly slapped Maan over with his trademark less encouraging, more destabilizing pats. Arjun stood a solid, stately six feet with graying hair and crows feet that framed his kind gray eyes. His white goatee juxtaposed his stocky build, making him seem rather unassuming at first glance. Although taller than Arjun, Maan always looked up to Arjun Sir, as it was through Arjun that Maan had received his position in Handa Industries.
"Haan, haan! It's not everyday such a young fellow gets appointed senior partner. Magar hum kis ke baare mein baat kar rahe hai? Yeh toh koi aam insaan nahi hai, yeh humare Maan hai. Humare apne Maan Singh Khurana," chimed in a voice from the sea of black suits now surrounding Maan.
"Haan, haan, aakhir pota kis ka hai?" came a baritone response.
Maan looked up from shaking the other suits hands.
"Daarji," Maan smiled. He stepped forward to touch the feet of voice that had just spoken.
"Na puttar, na!" Maan was stopped before he could bend over completely. Daarji held him tightly by his shoulders, before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Tears gathered in Maan's eyes as he held on to the man who had been his father when his own had cast him off. This man, with his teht Punjabi, rotund belly and Poirot-like mooch, had won Maan over with his first 'Sasriakaal.' Daarji pulled away first, smacking Maan playfully on the arm.
"Kya hai, Maan puttar, ek tu aur ek humari poti, jo humare aankhon mein ainvay aansoo laate hai," said Daarji as he wiped the corners of his eyes.
"Kya kahun Daarji, humara toh kamaal kuch aisa hi hai," teased Maan, rolling his shoulders back while adjusting his collar. He cocked his head and gave Daarji a lopsided smirk.
"Oye, zyada udd mat," Daarji pulled Maan's ear. "Main abhi tera Daarji hoon. Jitne bhi senior partner-shartner ban gaye ho, samjhe?"
"Daarji, please! Mera image mat kharab karo!" pleaded Maan.
"Haan, haan, tu apna image dhyan se rakh. Aur ab teri boss bhi aaeygi na, toh usse impress karni padegi, hai na?" said Daarji as he released Maan's ear.
"Daarji aap bhi na," muttered Maan as he quickly readjusted his suit and tie. "Aisi koi baat nahi hai, main bas achcha sa impression jamana chahta hoon. Senior partner jo hoon, na? I don't want her to regret her decision."
"Kyun, pet main voh, kya kehte hai? Voh joh-haan, titliyan hai?" Daarji whispered in Maan's ear, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Daar-"
"Arre aap dono kya kusur-pusur kar rahe ho?" boomed Arjun's voice from across the room. Maan shot Daarji a black look before meeting Arjun's eye. "Aaiye, tashreef rakhiye, humari malakain abhi aati hogi."
"Of course, of course," Maan grinned as he stepped forward and pulled out a chair for Daarji.
"Daarji, pehle aap,"
"Jinda raho, puttar," smiled Daarji as he sat down.
The room settled as Maan glanced around, realization washing over him. The glass boardroom table gleamed, reflecting the faces leaning back in sleek steel grey chairs seated about it. He smiled as his glance caught sight of his own reflection. He was sitting with the board of directors, the executives, Handa Industries' major shareholders and hot shots, movers and shakers. But this time, he was one of them.
Smiling to himself, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and lowered himself into his seat. He sat with his back to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the busy Delhi morning. To his right sat Daarji, who sat winking across the table at Arjun Sir. Reclining in his seat just left of the head of the table, Arjun returned Daarji's wink and turned his attention to Maan.
"Ahem, ahem. Aur bataao Maan, kaisa lag raha hai, senior partner banke? Koi second thoughts? Koi nervousness, ke boss aayegi aur tumhe pehle din pe bahar phenk degi?" Arjun called, bringing Maan out of his reverie.
"Nahi, Arjun Sir. Aisi koi baat nahi hai, main toh bas-"
"Arre toh itne khamoosh kyun ho? Lagta hai nervous zurur ho." smiled Arjun. "Waise bhi, nervous hone main koi baat hai, humari malkain madam, aisi hi hai. Jinta khatarnak log kehte hai, usse kahin zyada khatarnak hai. She runs a tight ship, Maan. Tez hai, bijli ki tarah. Bach ke rehna. Kahin tumhe nahi lage," Arjun half muttered the last part. "Kyun logon," he continued with gusto, "Main sach bol raha hoon, hai na?"
A chorus of "Haan, haan!" and "Bilkul sach kaha tumne, Arjun" filled the room.
"Oh, ho, tum logon bhi na, humari poti ko kisi drame ki vamp bana rahe ho. Kaise log hai aap?" chimed in Daarji in a show of mock disappointment.
"Hum apni poti ke baray mein aisi baatein nahi sunni!"
"Nahi Daarji, humein ghalat mat samajhna. Hum aapki poti ki bohot izzat karte hai, uske bina hum aur yeh saari Handa Industries aaj yahan nahi hote. Main toh bas yeh keh raha tha, ke Maan needs to mind his p's and q's, he's not the top dog anymore, he has to answer straight to the CEO of Handa Industries herself. Humari boss koi aisi-vaisi ladki nahi hai. Ek dum aag hai, aag!"
Maan sat watching the scene before him, his intrigue only growing. From his first day of work, he had heard nothing but the demanding, almost demonic, nature of Handa Industries' boss. She was an enigma. Never seen, yet omnipresent. She demanded nothing short of perfection from her employees. Everyone from the doorman to the senior partners were held to the same standard. She was feared, but not as much as she was loved. Although few had the privilege of making her acquaintance, all Handa Industries employees blessed the name of the unseen 'Madam' who paid for their children's schooling and parent's hospital bills.
Kaisi ladki hai yeh, yaar?
Some argued she was an invalid, living as recluse in the Swiss Alps and it was Arjun Sir who was the real brains behind Handa Industries miraculous comeback. She had an illicit relationship with Prince Harry and was banished to Kashmir to live her days in shame. She spent her days sipping margaritas in a villa overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Others doubted her existence. She isn't a she. No female could possibly accomplish what she had. If she was real, why does she not make public appearances? She's obviously an elaborate ruse designed by the Board of Directors as a publicity stunt. I mean, have you ever heard of a twenty-something heiress actually taking interest in her father's business let alone single handedly pulling her father's crumbling empire from the verge of bankruptcy? She cannot be real. No scandalous tabloid pictures, no drunken college indiscretions, no rowdy appearances at parties for the socially elite.
All the theories Maan had been told ran through his head.
"Well, aaj toh pata chalega, meri boss ki asliyat," Maan muttered to himself as he shifted in his seat. "Vaise, suna hai ke time ke bohot pakki hai, aur yeh dekho, sab log yahan hai aur hamari boss madam ki koi pata nai. Humpf."
He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a silver pocket watch. He ran his fingers over the ornate carvings on the side, thinking of this morning when his Dadimaa had placed it in his hands. She had put down the aarti thaal and reached for his hands, filling them with the pocket watch and chain.
"Yeh humare khandan mein barson se chale aaya hai. Aap ke pehle, aapke Papa ke paas tha, aur usse pehle aap ke Daarji ke paas. Shagun maan kar, le lo, aapki promotion ki khushi mein," she said, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Hum jaante hai, aapko apne beeti hui kal ke saari naathay thod chuke ho, magar, humari khaatir, pehen lo beta. Pleas-"
"Nai Dadimaa, aisa mat kahiye. Main aapki khushi ke liye kuch bhi kar sakta hoon," Maan said as he held his grandmother's frail hands in his own.
Maan watched the seconds hand, slowly coming back to the present. As the hour hand moved to the nine, the conference room door opened. A silence fell over the room. Arjun straightened his tie, Daarji sat up in his chair, a smile playing on his lips, and the remaining board members squared their shoulders. Maan's eyes were drawn to the door. Who was this Handa girl who elicited such a reaction from men more than twice her age?
As the figure appeared, much to Maan's confusion, Arjun Sir's words rang in his ears. Aag hai, aag.