It Happened on Scrabble Sunday

by Vas, Mahita;

  “Quite unlike you to admire yourself in the mirror, Uday.”

  “I was wondering what happened to me. When did I begin to age, and so rapidly too?”

  “We’re all getting older, Uday. At least you’re fit. You must be the only one in management without a pot belly.”

  “You’re too kind.” Uday patted his abdomen. “It’s there, not as bad as many others we know, but this could be better. I need more time at the gym.”

  “Yes, yes, we all know how diligent you are about exercising. But the only people who seem to use the gym on the third floor are the young ones, those below thirty.”

  “Discipline, Shivram. That’s all it is.” A little vanity, too. Uday had seen too many successful, wealthy people morph into large men and women who could only waddle into and out of the fancy restaurants they frequented. He had sworn to exercise regularly and watch his diet, so that by the time he was fifty, his body would still be healthy and young. At nearly 1.9 metres tall, Uday had to be extra careful to maintain his relatively lean frame. He had done a good job but had neglected his face.

  Shivram patted his paunch. “Too late for me. I’d rather buy bigger clothes than exercise.”

  An ice cube clinked as it melted and plopped, along with a few other cubes, further down Shivram’s long, thick glass. Uday sat at the desk and turned the chair around to face the Arabian Sea, the water choppy and the sky every shade of grey. There was something ominous about having such bleak weather to ring in the new year, that celebration being one of the indelible vestiges of their colonial past.

  In the two months he had been at the helm, Uday did not feel as if his leadership had made a big difference. Being based in Singapore when the company’s pulse was in Mumbai had detached him from his team. He spoke to them every day, usually at noon, which was 9.30am in Mumbai. Sometimes twice a day. At times even more frequently, for up to an hour, especially when there was a problem. Like a few days ago, when an owner of one of their hotels in England was considering signing on with an American management company. Uday had to renegotiate a new deal two years before the contract was due to expire. Or a few months earlier, when work on a project on the outskirts of Mumbai had stalled because a few disgruntled workers had taken a supervisor hostage. Uday had to approve an immediate increase in wages and better dormitory facilities, including Wi- Fi and television. Other than him lending his authority to the negotiations, there was nothing that the management committee could not have handled.

  He had an exceptional team in Mumbai—smart, driven and hardworking. They shared their founder’s vision of making Fortuna Global one of India’s most respected companies, and amongst the top ten employers to work for, in a list dominated by multinational companies. As the people in Singapore would say, Rohit Gupta could go fly a kite. Uday was not going to be cowed by the prodigal son of a man he had admired and loved. He would never allow the memory and legacy of Suresh Gupta to be dishonoured by a whiny and delusional young man.

  Shivram walked towards the window, carrying his nearly empty glass, drenched from condensation. “Penny for your thoughts, Uday?”

  “Haven’t heard that phrase in ages!” Uday rubbed his chin and smiled. “I know exactly what must be done. Leave it with me.” He waved his finger at Shivram. “I know that look on your face. You’re afraid I might say or do something impulsive. Don’t you trust me?”

  Shivram tried to suppress a snicker. “You know I do, Uday-ji. Completely.”

  The members of the management committee were all seated and chatting when Uday and Shivram walked into the conference room. Minutes later, Aditya walked in.

  “I am so sorry to drag you here like this today, of all days. Especially having Mr Aurora fly over from Singapore. I don’t know what has come over my brother, but it needs to be sorted out now.”

  Uday patted Aditya’s shoulder as he took his seat. “We’ll do what we have to do.”

  One of the directors snorted. “He’ll probably keep us waiting, just to try and show us he’s the boss.”

  Aditya rolled his eyes. “He’s capable of that, yes. Don’t bother calling him. He’ll enjoy making you wait a little longer. He’s a twisted fuck.”

  The room went still. They were used to hearing the f-word, often using it themselves, but never in the presence of older people, and certainly not in front of the big boss.

  Uday took a deep breath and said, “Let’s just wait. Would someone please order some snacks and drinks?”

  It was over an hour before Rohit strolled into the room, his face as morose as the weather. In sharp contrast was the woman who walked in just behind him—his mother—a slightly overweight, elegant woman with a ready smile for everyone.

  The men stood up. “Namaste, Mrs Gupta,” said Uday, followed by a group echo. Aditya went over and kissed his mother.

  “Sit, please sit … this isn’t the army! I’m here as an observer and, as you can see, Rohit does not like it.” Turning to Uday, Mrs Gupta asked, “Uday, it’s alright for me to be here, no? As my late husband’s widow, and this being a private company, I’d just like to make sure today does not spell the beginning of the end for Fortuna.”

  Uday, slightly startled, replied, “Of course, Mrs Gupta. You’re welcome to sit in on this meeting. Let’s begin. Who’s taking notes?”

  Everyone looked at each other. Shivram responded, “We’ll record the meeting for now and I’ll get my secretary to type out the minutes tomorrow.”

  Uday began, “Rohit, could you tell us what led to the drama that played out at your house in the early hours of this morning?”

  All eyes were on Rohit, who was staring at his twiddling thumbs. Without any warning, he stood up, banged on the table, and in a raised voice, said. “Everyone knows that I’m the best man for the job! You can’t disqualify me just because I’m younger than him,” Rohit stretched out his arm, at the end of which was a pointed finger, with such force, Uday thought both the finger and arm might come apart, propel themselves towards Aditya and go right through his face.

  Aditya said softly, “Go ahead, Rohit. Do what you do best. Fight. Show everyone in this room that you have what it takes to lead an organisation our grandfather and parents built. Show them how much you deserve their respect.” Aditya turned to face Uday. “Uncle, I have known for years that my father wanted me to take over the company upon his death or retirement, whichever came first. No one expected him to go so quickly. I think the people here were right to put you in charge. I hope you will resolve this and stay in charge. I can wait for five years.”

  “Because you’re a pussy! You don’t have what it takes to be a leader and you know it. You’re stalling just to prevent me from getting what I deserve. Papa always believed in meritocracy. He always said I was the clever one.” Rohit addressed the men sitting at the table. “Aditya was six or seven when Papa talked about him taking over. He could not have meant it then, or at least, later on, he was allowed to change his mind.”

  The rest whispered amongst themselves. Uday glanced at Mrs Gupta, who smirked as she tilted her head towards Rohit. Uday had always believed that she would stand by her favourite son no matter what, but today he wasn’t entirely sure. Uday’s heart ached to be reminded that in their teens, his own sons had stopped sharing the closeness they had as children.

  At least they both turned out to be good men. He was relieved that, even though his older son, Ashwin, had his moments, neither of his boys possessed the innate hooliganism so evident in Rohit.

  Uday raised his hand and asked for silence. “Rohit, you might be the only person in this room who believes your father wanted you to succeed him. As far as all of us are aware, the plan all along was for Aditya to take over.”

  “Did Aditya study in America? In England? Business schools in Wharton and Oxford? Was he ever educated abroad? No. Just a bachelor’s degree from an Indian University. I, on the other hand—”

  Suddenly Mrs Gupta got to her feet, put her hands on her hips, and with the eloquence for
which she was known, said in a cold voice, “Aditya was a star student and all-rounder throughout school. Delhi University gave him an excellent education and he graduated with a first-class degree in economics. You, Rohit Gupta, were kicked out of various schools since you were fourteen. Got into a second-rate college in America because your father paid for a new library and music hall, and never completed your master’s degree despite going to four different schools.”

  Mrs Gupta strutted in her stilettos towards Rohit, twirling her coiffured curls with her perfectly manicured fingers. “Let me refresh your memory. You didn’t go to Wharton. It was Penn State. It wasn’t Oxford. You went to Oxford Brookes. And in Singapore, we got you a flat and you took a distance learning course because you couldn’t get into any of the universities.” Mrs Gupta stroked Rohit’s face. “My beloved son, as your mother, I will always love you. But I’ll be damned if I let you run this company to the ground with your hubris.”

  Rohit glared at his mother. “Mummy! How could you? This is the ultimate betrayal!”

  His mother lit a cigarette and said, “Son, the ultimate betrayal would be for me to watch while you destroy this company. Anyway, like I said, I’m just an observer who wanted to set the record straight because I could. Uday’s in charge.”

  Uday wanted to laugh at the sight of Rohit, who looked as if he had lost a game he was set up to win. At the same time, Uday felt like slapping the twit for wasting everyone’s time on a public holiday, time that they should all have been spending with their families.

  Rohit crossed his arms as he spoke. “No! Daddy meant for me to be the next generation leader. Fortuna needs a roaring tiger, not a kitten like Aditya.”

  “Bas, enough!” Mrs Gupta raised her hand. “Stop it. These people didn’t come here to listen to you two squabbling.” Addressing Uday, Mrs Gupta said, “You’re the CEO. Make this problem go away. And you, Rohit. Just shut up and listen.”

  “Oh, Mrs Gupta, it is very simple. After several hours of reflection on the plane, I’ve decided that Aditya is ready. What he lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in wisdom and maturity far beyond his years.”

  Aditya sat still, his hand stretched out in front of him, grasping the edge of the table. Could he not hear the others chanting his name, the way they chanted Uday’s name just months earlier? He seemed to be in a trance.

  Uday walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Aditya flinched. “Congratulations, Aditya. We’ll get this all sorted out officially over the next few months.”

  As the men got up to leave the room, Rohit spoke in a raised voice, “Uday Aurora! You’d better watch out. For a start, I’m breaking my engagement to your daughter. Who wants a weakling like you for a father-in-law? Tell her, will you?” As he left the room, Rohit shrieked and whooped, the sounds meant to express scorn rather than a cheer. “This isn’t over, Uday Aurora!”

  Uday yawned. “I’m going to catch the late-night flight. There’s no need for me to stay until tomorrow. We’ll sort things out over the phone. Or Skype. Papers that need to be signed can be sent by courier.”

  “How blessed you are to be able to retire so young.”

  Uday grinned. “Fifty-five isn’t that young. Almost our parents’ age when they retired.” Turning serious within seconds, he continued, “By the way, I don’t see my circumstances as a blessing. That suggests divine intervention. I got lucky, that’s all—”

  “Supremely lucky! Getting into and out of Singapore’s property market at just the right time. As much as three hundred percent in profits within six or seven years for three houses. Millions were made, I heard. Julie’s inheritance before she died—”

  Uday raised his hand. “That’s enough, Shivram. Have you nothing better to do than to track the sales of my properties?” Uday made no effort to conceal his annoyance. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “I have no idea how you even knew those investment homes were up for sale, and to know so much, I can only suppose that you paid for a subscription on a real estate website, just to see what my properties were bought and sold for. Did you?”

  Shivram looked away. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. Everyone knows you did well with your investments and we are delighted.” Shivram faced Uday and extended his hand. “I genuinely wish you all the best, Uday.”

  The two men stood in the lobby while waiting for Shivram’s driver. The pianist played a piece Uday recognised but could not identify. Something from a movie. The soothing sound, amplified in the cavernous atrium, was in stark contrast to the raging sea just beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “It will be hard for Lavinia, but you should be relieved, Uday. Imagine having Rohit as your son-in-law. Lavinia deserves so much better.” Shivram was a reasonably sincere fellow, but his attempt at offering comfort was beginning to grate. “Just ignore what he said about this not being over. There’s nothing he can do.”

  “Yes, Shivram. Thank you.”

  7

  The Next Day

  Nothing in Uday’s career and parenthood could have prepared him for the moment when he had to face his daughter to break the news of her broken engagement to her. Much worse, that he was the cause of it. What if she never forgave him for destroying her future with the boy she had been determined to marry ever since she was twelve years old? Lavinia had lost her heart to Rohit when, during a summer vacation in Mumbai, he taught her how to play chess and introduced her to Coldplay by giving her two compact discs.

  Uday boarded the flight and prepared to lose himself in movies while trying to forget the arduous task of bearing bad news several hours later.

  On arrival, he let himself into his apartment. It was just after 9am. No one was at home except Wati and Conchita, the new housekeeper.

  Days after Maribel had left, Uday had tried to convince Lavinia that Tamara should have a say in selecting their latest domestic helper.

  “No, Daddy! She would choose the dumbest one, the inexperienced scaredy cat fresh from a village in Java, just so she can bully her. I’ll rope in Angela and Pri to help with the interviews. Leave things to us, Daddy.”

  “Maybe you could, at least, let her meet the shortlisted candidates before you pick one?” Uday could not bear another episode of Tamara accusing Lavinia of plotting against her. “Please, Lavi. You’ll get the final say. Just let Tamara feel that her opinion matters—”

  “Her opinion doesn’t matter, Daddy! Why should it? Maribel is gone because of her! The last thing we need is for Wati to go and then we’ll start a never-ending rotation of helpers.”

  Uday knew when Lavinia was at the point of a frenzied argument, which would only lead to tears. “All yours then, Lavinia. But make sure Angela and Pri get involved. They’ll inject some objectivity into your selection process.”

  Lavinia and her sisters-in-law picked Maribel’s replacement after interviewing nearly twenty candidates. Lavinia decided that Conchita had the right balance of arrogance and defiance to manage Tamara and enough pride to keep the house immaculate, and the right balance of humility to take instructions from Uday and his family. Both Angela and Priyanka agreed that with twenty years of experience and three different employers, Conchita was by far the best choice.

  His phone rang. It was Ashwin.

  “That was probably the quickest trip you’ve ever made to India, Dad. Was the problem resolved? Did you put Rohit in his place?”

  Uday was in no mood for a discussion. “All settled. Let’s all have dinner here tonight. I’ll call Sayana.” Wati brought him some tea and fried eggs with bacon. “Breakfast is here. Must go.” From where Uday sat, he could see Lavinia’s half-finished book on the coffee table, next to Scrabble, her favourite board game. She must have had friends over last night.

  “One more thing. I’d like us to meet at your place before dinner. It’s quite urgent. I need your advice. I’ll ask Sayana to join us.” With that weird nurse around, Uday preferred private conversations to be held outside his home. Uday had caught Aaron hanging around outside
Charlie’s room on the pretext of looking for something while clearly doing nothing, most likely to listen in on conversations.

  “Sure. Bye, Dad. Enjoy your breakfast. Get some sleep.”

  Lavinia knew as soon as she walked into Ashwin’s apartment that something was wrong. She sat on an armchair, dispensing with the usual hugs and kisses—a family ritual for as long as they could remember, as they left the house and when they returned home. Uday walked towards her and kissed her on the forehead. “Something bad happened. I know those looks. Exactly like when you told me about Mama’s cancer when I came home from school that day.”

  Ashwin spoke. “It’s Rohit—”

  Lavi clasped her mouth. “Rohit? Something happened to my beloved Rohit?”

  Uday sat on the arm of Lavinia’s chair and put his arm around her. “Princess, nothing has happened to him.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” growled Ashwin.

  Uday glared at Ashwin before turning Lavinia’s face towards him, “Lavi, my Princess, Rohit has called off the engagement and—”

  “And doesn’t have the decency to tell you so himself. Be glad, Lavi. This is a blessing!” Sayana was kneeling in front of his sister. “Rohit wanted to be CEO. Daddy gave up his position to keep the peace in Fortuna, to respect Suresh Uncle’s wishes. Aditya is the new CEO, and for that Rohit has decided not to marry you. What a spiteful creature! Punishing his kind and beautiful fiancée because her father did the right thing.”

  Lavinia looked at her father. “Is this true, Daddy? Rohit called it off because of you?”