Dil Beparwah | ✔

forty

||CHAPTER 40||
《¤》

┊V A R U N┊

I recognized him from Raman Oberoi's extravagant anniversary party. The rebellious next-in-line who showed no interest in his uncle's company and wanted to save the world, one brain at a time, on paper of course, eyed me with a cognizant countenance throughout the homely ceremony Mikesh Rastogi hosted on the occasion of Dussehra at his residence.

I returned the acknowledgement with a polite nod, shifting my doubts regarding his presence in the small group of colleagues and friends for later. While my landlady Jamna Baa kept Pujas as well, celebrating Dussehra at Mikesh's had become sort of our BizNest ritual over the years.

"Varun, isn't it?" Aryan Oberoi settled down on the other end of the couch.

I did not hold myself to affirm it. "Guess the world is small, after all." And Rastogi picked his qualms intentionally. "Happy Dussehra."

"Same to you," he said. "I did expect to see you here, though. You had said you're the Editor at BizNest. And then a few days later, I met Mikesh."

"Glad to know he's going to therapy."

He forced a chuckle. "That too. But I didn't quite mean it that way."

"Though that would make one heck of a roleplay," came Mikesh's acknowledgment. His kurta, specked with broken pieces of a mirror, was too dazzling to look at. Idiot didn't quite think twice before putting an outfit together to make some woke statement.

A snarling Molly didn't stand in my opposition today. She leaped out of his hands, offered me a few sniffs between greasy licks before pointedly turning her head at Aryan to growl menacingly. I sure wasn't expecting this olive branch.

"Looks like she loves you a lot," Aryan observed.

"Oh, they do go way back. Almost inseparable. Anyways, Malhotra, I need to talk to you for a moment. Yan, think you can look after Molly for a bit? She's allergic to agarbatti ya any type ka dhua, so don't let her run off, please?"

Half name basis, Rastogi was going claws-deep this time. I was glad to oblige. Kriti was already waiting for us in the balcony.

"Did you listen to the recording?" She inquired once Mikesh slid the screen doors behind him.

"It was intense," he commented, moving his scrutiny to me. "I think we need to publish it before Oberoi's lawyers get a sniff of it. They are gonna sue us anyway, so better do it before they are ready to combat."

"Are you suggesting we put this out on the dot-com?"

This had been a low-lying debate since the beginning. "I'm not pushing it out on digital, Mikesh. Ye print media pe hi jayega. There's still more to dig anyway."

"So what? We have a gold mine of a scoop here. Digitally start karenge toh we get more traction, and create more impact," he countered. "If we delay this, some other media house will get to the story first. This affects your nomination for the media awards, Malhotra."

Couldn't say that that wasn't a priority. I breathed out slowly. "Fact checks baaki hai, Harish Tiwari ke intentions bhi clear nahi hai."

"What if we're able to get Harish Tiwari's statement?"

We looked at Kriti for further elaboration. He had refused our appeals numerous times before.

"We've been so focused on what Raman Oberoi is trying to hide that we haven't given much thought to what Harish Tiwari has to show."