“What, I will tell you.Where, you can decide. I mean, you can sit here and write, though I can’t promise to keep the group in control. You see how loud they are? They play music and erupt into a dance every now and then… the TV is always on, sometimes mute on news, sometimes they sneak sitcoms or music channels… so,” Amaal shrugged.
“Excuse me, Amaal, sorry, this is urgent,” Farooq held out their media-buying rough sheets to her. “This is the media budget you allotted to print ads for week 8, but we are getting a better deal at India Today if we throw in two exclusive interviews with our senior members.”
“How much better?”
“30% down.”
“Which publications?”
“India Today all over the country, plus all sister publications in the state.”
“Which senior members?”
“Founding members.”
“Ok, get them to 40%, give them Samar and Adil.”
“But Atharva Bhai? If he hears of more interviews with India Today…”
“Then don't run it by him.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Don’t run it by him before Samar approves it.”
That was always the workaround. Those two operated as yin and yang. And never crossed each other’s word.
“Sorry, where were we?” Amaal turned back to Iram. And spent a good chunk of her first hour giving her starters for her first day.
As Iram stood up to start working, Amaal had a strong feeling about her. A good feeling that she couldn’t place yet.
————————————————————
The thing about a strong feeling was, that it usually passed. With respect to Iram, Amaal’s feeling kept intensifying with each passing day. She was not only sharp and talented with the written word but also refreshingly honest. Her work ethic was strong, but Amaal reserved judgement on that as it was still early days.
And then, one night, Samar stormed into her Media Room to make her doubt that strong feeling.
“Everyone, out.”
There were three of them, including her, and both began to rise to their feet.
“Sit down,” Amaal commanded, taking her eyes to the otherwise quiet man who never made a noise when entering or exiting a room. His face, as usual, did not give anything away. His formals hid the wildness inside him. She could see more.
“Media Room is occupied, we are not leaving until we finish this. Adil’s room is empty.”
“Everyone except you.” Samar clipped, staring at her. Amaal stared back. He was the founder, the leader and her senior. Did not mean she would not exert authority where she had it. This was her Media Room, her people.
Amaal got to her feet, her laptop tucked under her arm, and saw his pupils dilate slightly. She turned to the two members working on their next big video series and nodded with a reassuring smile — “You guys carry on, we’ll take this outside.” She turned and walked across Samar — “Come, Samar, let’s sit in Adil’s office.”
As she left the Media Room with the man on her heels, she could feel all of it — his rage, confusion, even his uncontrolled mess. He had been going around like this for a while now. Unhinged. Unleashed. She had never seen him like this. Even his voice was louder.
Amaal opened the door to Adil’s office and stood to the side, leading this. He did not look at her as he adjusted his specs on his nose and walked inside. She stepped in after him and closed the door.
“Do not ever enter my Media Room like that again.”
His back tautened. Under the white shirt, it wasn’t as easily discernible as when it was when he wore those tight black T-shirts. But his shouldershadtautened.
“Iram is a spy.” He turned around, looking visibly calmer.
