Nothing Lasts Forever - No Secret Can Stay Buried

by Vish Dhamija

  With no desire to be late on the first day of his new assignment, D'Cunha was early for his meeting with his new supervisor who walked in at the dot of nine, sat down on his oak-coloured enormous desk of simple cubist design, and looked at the stack of files in the 'in' tray. The room was much richer than any at D'Cunha's Worli office, with ritual pictures of Gandhi, Nehru and his daughter Indira Gandhi adorning the walls in glass frames. On his left side there was a credenza over which were displayed numerous awards, departmental pictures and some photographs of Kabir with various VIP's and political personalities. There was no uncertainty that the man thrived on his accomplishments.

  D'Cunha walked into the office at ten. 'Good morning sir… Michael D'Cunha, Deputy Superintendent reporting on duty.'

  'Good morning, Michael,' Kabir said, glancing at D'Cunha's file. 'Sit down.' Despite the expectations and warnings, which had been voiced by several colleagues, Kabir was respectful. There was a five-minute silence, which felt like hours to D'Cunha as Kabir went through his file. 'You have a very impressive professional record, Michael. Like you, I have always advocated that what goes into the work is more significant than the length of time worked, and you seem to be just the right guy. You don't have a single open, unresolved case in your entire career. I am sure you've heard all about me and my rigorous working style, but there's one more thing I tell everyone who joins my team — I trust people who work for me, completely, and if they let me down, that's where their career ends.' Kabir was polite, but he did not mince words.

  'Yes, sir.'

  'I demand absolute dedication to the service. Police is an essential service where deadlines do not shift with changing circumstances. There cannot be any office hours, so anyone who wants a nine-to-five job shouldn't join the police force.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Your phones should never be switched off, I am sure you know this.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'And, you don't have to say sir after every sentence. You don't call me sir off duty either. The name's Kabir.'

  'Okay, sir… I meant okay.'

  'Are you from Goa?' Kabir looked at the family name on the file.

  'Yes, but born and brought up in Mumbai.'

  'Besides what's there in the file, tell me about yourself.'

  'I am a second-generation police officer. My father retired as the Additional Commissioner of Police...' D'Cunha started.

  'Are you ACP Ryan D'Cunha's son?' Kabir interrupted with the question.

  'Yes, I am. Did you know him?'

  'Oh yes. While I was training at the Police Academy at Hyderabad, he was a guest trainer on homicide investigations and one could see he didn't present other people's cases. Some of us were keen to work for him, but he retired before we completed the training,' Kabir said. 'You have very big boots to fill, then.'

  'Yes.'

  'Good. As I understand it, you are on a two-year secondment from Mumbai Police. I promise, if you do well here, I will push for you to get another highly visible role in the centre that can be the starting block for your return to Mumbai with another promotion.'

  'That is what I endeavour to do.' D'Cunha looked around the room at all the trophies and pictures making it obvious that he wanted to be triumphant like Kabir.

  'Good. Here is the file of your first assignment, beginning now. Do you have any doubts or questions?' Kabir concluded the discussion.

  'Not at the moment, sir.'

  'I wish you all the best, Michael.' Kabir got up like a gentleman to shake hands.

  'Thank you, sir.' D'Cunha shook hands, saluted and turned to leave. Walking out of the room, one picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a group photograph from Kabir's university days that read: Faculty of Management Studies, Delhi — Class of 1987. He couldn't remember whom he had met from the same institute, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place to stop and ponder.

  17

  Mumbai

  July 2000

  'Good morning.' GK sauntered into Serena's office one Friday morning with a cup of coffee.

  'Good morning, GK.'

  'I've got good news for you,' he began. 'Firstly, congratulations on outdoing the mid-term objectives and, secondly, one of my past colleagues, Andrew, has just the assignment you asked for, a while back.'

  'New York!' Serena was suddenly energised.

  'London. He moved to London a while ago.'

  'Really? What is the job?'

  'Ditto — what you do here. I have spoken to him regarding you. The retail bank is in a shambles there. He is looking for international staff to head up retail for the UK. I know it would have been ideal to get a bigger assignment for you, but I guess that should come in time if you join him and deliver what's required. Interested?' GK asked.

  'Yes, though New York would have been more exciting.'

  'Think about it. If you are interested, send me your latest CV and I'll pass it on to Andy.'

  'How long do I have?' Serena asked.

  'The assignment is open now; the earlier you apply the better.'

  'I'll take it.' Serena was decisive.

  'Okay. Send me your CV. I'll send it across with my comments. Please do not forget to highlight your Dubai project; international successes always help. I can guarantee an interview and I am confident they won't find a better candidate than you,' he advised before he walked out of her office.

  'Kim?' Serena was excited when she called her friend.

  'What's the matter with you? You are all charged up, honey...'

  'You bet I am. What are you doing tonight?'

  'Nothing planned for the weekend. How about you?' Kim asked.

  'I am driving straight from work to your place, for the weekend.'

  'Are you carrying a changeover?'

  'I'll sleep naked. See you in an hour.'

  Serena was at Kim's place by seven. Kim opened the door dressed in a black and white floral deep V-necked, side-tied dress, which ended well above her knees. It could have been worn with jeans or tights but Kim was comfortable wearing it with nothing, especially, as it was a girlie night with Serena. 'How lovely to see you, honey,' she greeted Serena with a hug. 'Tell me…'

  'In a minute, let me just have a wash first. Do you have anything I can change into?' Serena threw her bag on the sofa.

  'I thought you didn't mind being naked.'

  'Oi… you filthy-minded girl.' Serena smiled as she went into the guest bedroom.

  'Will you have tea or coffee?' Kim asked.

  'Vodka, please…'

  Serena was out of the guest bedroom in ten minutes, wearing a loose white cotton top with a stretch denim Capri which fitted her beautifully, with elaborate embroidery and glass beadwork on the waistband, pocket and seams. 'Thanks.' She carried her glass from the table and sank into the sofa. She picked up Kim's pack of Bensons, lit one up and started, 'I might get a new assignment abroad.'

  'Dubai?' Kim asked.

  'London.'

  'That's too far.'

  'I won't commute daily.' Serena winked.

  'I know, but…'

  'Look at me, Kim. I've nothing in this city anymore. I can't even find a decent guy… I have been thinking, maybe a change of place will help me get out of this lonely life…'

  'I can always fix you up with someone here,' Kim offered.

  'Adi?'

  Over the course of the evening, Serena explained that the job in London opened up doors for her to an overseas career and, now, that Raaj was no longer in business in Mumbai, there was neither an attachment to the city nor the need to stick around. She was a businesswoman and had reached too high in the country's corporate pyramid to find any bigger roles locally. If she was seeking growth she had to move out, and London was a great place to start. She had been keener on New York, but she didn't have a choice. She also explained how GK had been a big help talking to people to get her the interview.

  'So there's still time before you move.' Kim sounded relieved.

  'There's still a chance of
not moving. The interviewer, Andrew, might get better applications and candidates, but GK has great connections and knows him personally. That might help.'

  'Don't know about others, but I will really miss you very much.' Kim sounded sad as she lit up another cigarette.

  'Me too. I sure am going to miss you. But I hope you understand my situation…'

  'When was the last time you got laid?'

  'Two years ago, in Dubai; I told you.'

  'I can understand your frustration…'

  'Correct. So, have you been seeing anyone?'

  'Yes. I was about to tell you. Remember the time I told you about one of the creative guys, in the agency, who wanted to help me with my career? Ron and I have been seeing each other for a couple of months now. I did not tell you earlier because of my past record of relationships never lasting more than a few months. I think the attraction has been there since the beginning, although I was a bit sceptical because of the age difference.'

  'How old is he?' Serena was eager to know.

  'Forty-five.'

  'And you are thirty.'

  'I'll be thirty one, next month,' Kim immediately corrected.

  'Is the sugar daddy fully functional?'

  'He's rocked me a few times. Don't know where he gets this energy from?'

  'Wow… how come you are alone this weekend?'

  'He's on a shoot in Jaipur,' Kim clarified.

  'You mean he is on a shoot in another location with a sexy model?'

  'That is professional. I shoot with other agencies too. That's what I like about him.' Happiness glowed on Kim's face.

  'Any long-term plans?'

  'He proposed today on the phone from Jaipur. He wants to get married now.'

  'Isn't it early for him?'

  'It's definitely late for me.'

  ***

  GK told Serena that Andy was impressed with her during the telephonic interview and had selected her for the London job. He had sent the papers over to the US for sign-off and would let them know about the dates and formalities in a few weeks.

  It was nearly the end of September before all the formalities were completed. GK was ready to release her as soon as they had found and trained a replacement. He could not let Serena go before that and run the department without a suitable head in the last quarter of the year. Everything got sorted by December. The replacement was trained and firmly in control. The work visa for Serena had been stamped.

  She decided not to sell the Bandra apartment.

  That's the only remaining memory of Raaj and me together, she told Kim and GK.

  ***

  December 31, 2000

  Kim, with Ron, planned a quiet farewell dinner for Serena at her place.

  Ron was elegant; an unconventionally sober creative director. No ponytails, no tattoos, no piercing, no wacky hairstyle, no torn shorts, not even a turtleneck. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a white tucked-in shirt, he looked much younger than he was. Only the hair colour revealed his vintage. Kim, standing next to him, as he poured drinks for all three of them, was wearing a timeless little black dress with beads all over and satin trim at the neck and hem. As always, she looked gorgeous. Serena had worn the same black dress she had worn in Dubai when she had gone clubbing.

  The evening was more sombre than some of Kim's earlier New Year parties. She was, perhaps, growing up with Ron. Kim and Serena discussed several memorable events they had experienced together in the last six years. Some were exhilarating; others were sad. Raaj was missed by both the women. Ron had been told about Serena's tragedy and every time the women discussed a past event, Kim gave the background to make Ron understand.

  Some tears, a few smiles, funny jokes, happy and sad memories, fine jazz, a good number of drinks, and a pre-ordered dinner — an evening can only last so long. It was finally 2001.

  'Not sure when we'll be together again.' Kim was choked, realising Serena would soon be gone; she was flying to London the same evening, which was, now, only hours away.

  'I know but we'll meet again, soon.' Serena was on the verge of tears too.

  The two women embraced for a long time, sobbing on each other's shoulder, as Ron looked on. He hadn't been part of their lives long enough to comment on some things that evening, but he had played the part of a perfect gentleman and host, making drinks and participating in the conversation whenever he could. All of them went to bed around two in the morning.

  ***

  Sahar International Airport

  Mumbai, January 1, 2001

  Serena had decided not to carry any household possessions, therefore all of her personal luggage was checked-in. She paid a ransom as excess-baggage charge and carried a small cabin bag. 'Bye, Kim. All I can say is, thanks for everything. I wouldn't have survived in this city if it had not been for you.' She was in tears.

  'I'll miss you.' Kim broke down like a child.

  'I'll email you my numbers as soon as I can. Keep in touch. It was nice meeting you, Ron. Take care of my friend.'

  'Don't worry about Kim. You take care,' Ron said, giving her a hug.

  'Bye. You were right Kim — Ron does rock you hard. You should get some soundproofing done in your house before you have your next guest,' Serena uttered to lighten up the mood. Kim looked at Ron and blushed.

  'Bye, honey.'

  The women embraced one last time before Serena, with moist eyes, walked through the security check. Kim was still crying and Ron took her in his arms to console her. He was mature enough to appreciate the pain of parting.

  18

  London Heathrow

  London, January 2, 2001

  From the aerobridge itself Serena realised that the world's busiest airport hadn't got its sobriquet for nothing. London, fittingly located between Asia and America, saw more international flights than any other airport in the world. The city had five airports sharing the load, with Heathrow being the biggest and the busiest. Terminal 4 was packed with people when the flight landed in the morning. Regardless of it being a bit dated now, Serena noticed that Heathrow offered all the facilities that major airports in India lacked. The sparkling environment, the ambience, the consistency and clarity of the signage directing her to the correct places and the visual screens all around advertising some of the best brands in the world, gave an international flavour to the whole place. It was quite a long walk from the aerobridge to the immigration desks. She saw people around her dressed in coats and winter wear.

  I definitely need a change of wardrobe soon, she pondered.

  At the immigration desk, she handed over the disembarkation card and passport to the officer at the counter.

  'Did they make you go through any medical tests?' the officer asked.

  'Yes.'

  'Could I see the reports, please?'

  'Sure.' She unzipped her handbag and pulled out a large brown envelope containing all her medical tests and X-rays done for the visa.

  'Thanks.' He looked at them for a few minutes, and then placing them neatly in the envelope, he handed them back to her. He passed the passport under the security scanner before stamping it. 'Have a nice stay in the UK.' He returned her documents to her with a smile. Serena had a lot of luggage and it took time for all the pieces to arrive. She collected them on a trolley and walked through the green channel. A middle-aged English cab driver, booked by her new office, was paging for Ms Serena.

  'Good afternoon, Serena. Welcome to London,' he said charmingly.

  Serena hadn't realised it had taken her all morning to get out. 'Good afternoon.' She glanced at her watch. He chivalrously took the trolley from her and led her to the car park. It was cold and wet; not freezing but, nevertheless, much colder than Mumbai. Serena had heard that it always rained in London, but, for now, she didn't mind it. It wasn't like Mumbai rain where it poured; just a steady, gentle shower.

  The cab ride from Heathrow to Canary Wharf was exciting for Serena, as it was her first time in the city. She was upset the driver did not bring the famous Lo
ndon black cab, which she had seen at Singapore airport as a tourist attraction. The cab driver explained that pre-booked cab companies didn't have those in their fleets. London felt very diverse with its people, cars and shops. She admired it all… as the cab crawled in the traffic. The red telephone booths and the London buses were exactly as she had seen on postcards in her childhood.

  Who uses telephone booths in this age of mobile phones?

  The chirpy driver highlighted the various landmarks to Serena… Hyde Park, Harrods at Knightsbridge, Big Ben, the London Eye and then Tower Bridge as they drove by the Thames. He told a story about a Yank who bought the old London Bridge, thinking it was the Tower Bridge, and shipped it all the way to America. Serena did not believe the story one bit, but laughed with him as he told it.

  'Where exactly would you like to go in Canary Wharf?' he asked as they approached the Limehouse tunnel.

  'The Four Seasons Hotel at the Westferry Circus please,' Serena told him, looking at the hotel reservation papers.

  'Okay.'

  The valet was at the cab, in a flash, the moment it stopped in the portico of the hotel. He took the baggage while Serena paid the cabbie and thanked him for the guided tour of London. He smiled, expressed gratitude and left.

  It was nearing two o'clock. Serena, already pre-booked in the hotel, checked-in at the reception, collected her keys, and went straight to the room to find a message light already flashing on her telephone. The red-eye and the extended drive from the airport to the hotel had taken a toll, and she dozed off without any lunch, having put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

  ***

  Serena's office in Canary Wharf was a short walk from the hotel, and though it was still a bit dark for eight in the morning, she decided to walk since it wasn't raining. This office was the UK and European Headquarters of the bank and housed a lot of staff. The building was new and their bank had leased twenty floors in a single tower. She showed her Indian ID card at the reception to obtain the guest pass for day visitors, crossed the turnstile and took the elevator up to the thirtieth floor.