by Sudarsan S
“What happened?” Ananta was aware that the statement about disagreement with the management had triggered Ramanujam’s instincts.
“It has been more or less the norm to prescribe a set of feel-good massages to our customers. Dr. Sreevalsan felt that that was abuse of the system of medicine and was prescribing massages only when he deemed necessary. He felt that massages and medication should not be avenues of money-making, just because our guests are willing to pay. The management felt otherwise and to this day, was tolerating the good doctor’s presence”.
“And, something within the doctor snapped?”
“I guess so. He is moving on and so are you”.
CHAPTER 23: Beyond the Farm House Party
“He is moving on and so are you. In fact, you are moving up, Yadav. Karve’s days are numbered and he looks forward to spending his retirement in peace. His successor will have to define the role of FADRA and bring it to prominence.”
“Oh, thank you, Pyare Mohan”.
“I hear your surprise, Yadav. Did you think I had forgotten my word to you about making you the head of the Food and Drug Regulatory Authority? A politician may forget the promises he makes to his constituents, but not the ones he makes to his friends. I look forward to making this announcement after next week’s press conference. Though it has been weeks since I have been sworn in as the minister, the PM wants to introduce me to the media formally, particularly in the light of the swine flu scare. When we meet at my farm house on Saturday, I want a sitting with you. Just to get a run-down on what this swine-flu is about and what the world is doing about it”.
“Saturday at the farm house?” Dr. Yadav asked bewildered. His head was already spinning at the thought of another evening at the farm house.
“Any problem, Yadav?”
“No, none. I will be there. Meanwhile, any news of...”
“No. Why worry about him? Cats mew in the dark, but once they fall in sight of the hounds, they flee. Let him mew all he wants. By the way, bring your family on Saturday. Bye.”
Dr. Yadav was speechless for a moment. He held the receiver for a minute after it was hung up on the other side. Pyare Mohan had promised some action in the case of the missing student, but now he was dismissive of it altogether. Dr. Yadav was not sure which part stunned him more – that the minister did not think the Ramanujam matter was worthy of attention any longer or the family party at the farm house.
He hated it. One could only hope that unlike the last time, this party would be more family-friendly.
Mrs. Yadav had been the picture of a polite guest throughout her presence in the farm house, but beneath the veneer of a smiling face, her husband knew something was simmering. She had rarely looked at him or spoken to him. The silence was broken as they walked towards their car after bidding their adieus.
“So, this is what a family-friendly party is?” She was still not looking at him. The farm house, glowing behind them like a Chinese lantern, was throwing soft shadows on the lawn of Korean grass.
“Yes”, said Dr. Yadav hesitatingly.
“That clears the air, then. I can only imagine how your other party would have been, the previous occasion you visited this place”.
Dr. Yadav was unsure whether this statement was seeking a response or silence. He gestured in the direction of the car, unlocked it and got in. Mrs. Yadav slid into her seat gently.
“Quite lively, I suppose”, continuing from where she left off.
“I know what is going on in your mind.”
“Really?” The word was dripping with derision.
“It is not the debased kind that you are thinking of. This is an opportunity for prominent people to network with each other”.
“Networking needs liquor and ladies, I presume.”
“As I told you the other day, this is where middle-class mentality comes into play. Some people need such accompaniments to loosen up. I don’t. I remain what I am.”
Mrs. Yadav looked askance at her husband. “Really?”
“Of course, I do”.
“My husband, as I knew him, was the one who wouldn’t tolerate these parties. Has anything changed?” Dr. Yadav had had years of experience to understand that when his wife referred to him in the third person, she was extremely upset.
“Look, I still don’t like them. I went as a courtesy”.
“And networking?”
“Yes, and networking with the high and mighty”.
“So, fundamentally my husband, as I know him now, participates in events which do not appeal to his mind, but help him to survive or thrive.”
“Yes, that is aptly put”.
“Not very different from the oldest profession, eh?”
“What?”
“I know my husband is a smart man. He will get the analogy”. Mrs. Yadav exhaled deeply as if she was releasing her pent up anger. Indeed, she had slipped in her thoughts as subtly as inserting a bell-pin into a banana.
It was now Dr. Yadav’s turn to seethe and burn in anger. His wife had just likened his behaviour to leasing one’s body for money. No one had ever got to rebuking him in a long time. It doesn’t hurt that much to hear a taunt than not being able to respond to one. The analogy had been direct and inarguable.
The rage of helplessness was all he could feel. Dr. Yadav was angry at his wife, himself, his car and the car ahead of him. He sounded the horn for no reason whatsoever.
“The signal is red. You want to jump to get ahead?” Mrs. Yadav was smiling. Her husband wasn’t too sure if she had meant to ask the loaded question or whether it was his own imagination.
Never mind the woman, the doctor thought. She will come to her senses when he moves up as head of FADRA and sees the frills associated with it. Or, will she?
As if reading his thoughts, she asked, “So, what did your friend have to say about your, ahem, elevation?”
Was she really interested? Did she care? “Yes, the announcement will be made soon.”
Mrs. Yadav gestured ahead. “Green signal”.
Dr. Yadav shifted the car out of its reverie and slid it forward. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering how fast I need to get rid of my middle-class mentality and learn to hobnob with the rich and mighty. Maybe I need to take grooming lessons...” Her voice tapered off.
Cynicism? Probably. She will learn to love the lifestyle when it happens, Dr. Yadav thought. When that happens, life will be bliss. Her allusion to the oldest profession will be a thing of the past after those few months of easing into the lifestyle. All for a friendship with a petty politico - a job to die for and a life of luxury. Two birds with one stone.
CHAPTER 24: Capital Gains
“Two birds with one stone. Not bad, eh, Ananta?”
“If you rewind a little bit and tell me what was going on in your mind during those hours of silence before you spoke these words, I will be glad to agree or disagree with you”.
“My apologies, Ananta”, laughed Ramanujam. “I have been occupied in thoughts of my own. The sum of my thoughts is: I believe I am on my way to clearing my debts with my professor and getting back to complete my degree”.
“I thought one was related to the other”.
“Yes, Ananta, indeed”.
“In that case, Rama, you are not getting two birds, but just one. The second is just an egg that belongs to the bird”.
“Very true. So be it, then. One bird with an egg. I will need your help to accomplish this, Ananta.”
“My help? How can I be of help?”
“There is going to be a press-conference tonight at the Sahakar Bhavan.”
“Rama, the press-conference is all over the capital’s dailies today, in the light of the swine flu scare”.
“Really? Good, then. I need your help to ask questions of our new Minister of Health”.
“Rama, I know you dream big, but what makes you think you can walk in to the press-conference? Are you aware that the Prime Minister is going to be there? The security
will be tighter than at Ajmal Kasab’s prison”.
“I don’t need to get in, I need the questions to be smuggled in and considering the time you spend in our village watching news channels, you will help in identifying the journalist who will do it.”
“So, I go around the capital’s media houses and ask who is willing to smuggle questions”.
“No, Ananta. You are more in touch with the current affairs than I am. Who do you think will be most pliant, most likely to ask the questions we want him to ask and what he will need in order to ask those questions”.
“Ah, now you are talking sense. Our journalists are the breed that loves the 3 L’s and there is probably none who doesn’t like one or the other. I will be offering the cheapest and the least illegal”.
“You have lost me, Ananta. The three L’s?”
“Liquor, London and Ladies. Or, love of booze, foreign junkets and women”.
“Touche, Ananta. You have surpassed yourself today. Please get to work and give me good news before 6:00 PM. The press-meet is at 8:00 PM and we will be watching it from the Blue Lagoon Cafe”.
“What will you be doing?”
“Working on Plan B, in case our Plan A fails”.
“What is Plan B?”
“Another attempt to expose the ignorance of the Minister of Health and ensure that the media focus more attention on him than they would otherwise. No kid gloves just because he allegedly qualified as a doctor”.
“Tell me, Rama, how does embarrassing the minister help you?”
“Not directly. It will send a message to the appropriate people, you will see for yourself. If the minister’s position is made tenuous, it is unlikely that he will push strongly on his nominees to various posts. His energies will be focussed on saving his skin than that of his cronies. And, when a man doesn’t have his cronies in prime position, he feels weak and insecure”.
“Which will leave you to target your friend comfortably”.
“Exactly”.
“Rama, you remember our conversation in the train to Bangalore, when you said you were born a genius?”
“Yes, Ananta, what about it?”
“I am starting to suspect you may have said the truth”.
“I take it as a compliment, Ananta. Now, the questions are in this envelope. Make sure your quarry stays in shape to reach the venue. I will be there at the cafe before the said time, with a seat reserved for you.”
“And you are confident that your move will work and you are sure that the cafe will play your channel?”
“Ananta, I will do my best and leave the rest to Him. As regards the second part, the cafe is owned by the media company that runs 24x7 news and they will not play any channel other than their own. All the news channels will be broadcasting the press-conference live, including this one”.
“Do I get to be on television sets across the nation if I impersonate a media person and ask your questions myself?”
“Possibly, Ananta, just like Ajmal Kasab was. Take care and don’t try anything funny. Adieu”.
“Have I missed anything, Rama?”
“I don’t think so. The channel is still featuring the story of the boy who was taken away by a bear and returned to his village after two years. Now he doesn’t want to live with his family, but return to the forest with the bear”.
“Rama, considering what we have seen of humans in the past few months with you, I think the boy has made a wise choice”.
“True. The by-line at the bottom of the screen is still showing our event coming up in the next 18 minutes. Tell me, Ananta, can we expect Plan A to happen?”
“Positively. My quarry, as you quaintly put it, is a genial correspondent of The Capital Times. He has nothing to lose, so to say and this might be the last press-meet of his career. You know that Capital Media House grew out of the strength of its print media and now that the newspaper is in the doldrums, they are seeking to trim their body-line to cut costs.
“Our correspondent, who shares the same name as a 1970’s superstar, has been a non-performing asset for a while now and had been sticking around like the other old-timers due to sheer goodwill of some seniors. He spilled all these after he had swilled a few shots I got for him from the brewery on the outskirts.
“Oh, yes, he has promised to do me the favour of asking those few questions to the Health Minister when I assured him there is more of the stuff from where I came”.
“You are just great, Ananta”.
“I was born this way, Rama”, beamed Ananta.
“Anything for you, sir?” the waiter asked askance.
“Two glasses of purified water. No, I don’t want bottled water. Thanks.”
The waiter gave a stare that said 'free-loaders' and walked away.
“Very few customers here, Rama?”
“Time of the day and time of the year, Ananta”.
“Means what?”
“Too late for evening snacks, too early for supper. Besides, with the swine flu alert, some regulars are avoiding enclosed public places like this”.
“You know what, Rama? I am feeling nervous in anticipation of the show. It is as if it is final exam time all over again”.
“Just take it easy. A prepared mind is a relaxed mind”.
CHAPTER 25: Press ’Meat’
“Just take it easy. A prepared mind is a relaxed mind, Pyare Mohan. I have faith that you are the right man for the Health Minister’s chair. These media persons have a short-term memory. They will have some questions on how we are handling the swine flu pandemic and if they hear some answers that they are expecting, they will go away.” The Prime Minister spoke in kind tones in the ante-room adjacent to the press-meet room.
“Thank you, sir, for the faith you have reposed in me”, smiled Pyare Mohan.
“Of course. I am sure you have seen bellicose audiences in your political experience. Compared to that, these guys will be like girl scouts with flower bouquets”, the Prime Minister chuckled at his comparison. He continued, “Just remember to look at the questioner in his eyes, and do not respond condescendingly”.
“Yes, sir”.
The PMO adjunct gestured from afar that it was time to enter.
“Come,” said the PM, showing the way. “Just follow me and stop before the dais. You can step up after I introduce you”. With a swiftness defying his years, the octogenarian Prime Minister strode through the doorway and ascended the small dais. The audience broke into a muted applause. Most of the audience wore green masks over their noses and mouths. The Prime Minister took stock and chose to pretend as if there was nothing unusual.
“Men and women of the media, many thanks for accepting the PMO’s invite to be here. As evidenced by the presence of cameras here, we are increasing transparency into our daily dealings, a promise we made during the polls, that we are seeking to keep”.
It was evident to the astute Pyare Mohan that the Prime Minister, despite addressing the media by name, was, in fact, speaking to the people of the nation watching from their bungalows, huts, flats and pigeon-holes.
“In line with our coalition’s belief of right man for the right job, we have found an able person to take on the responsibility of the Minister of Health in these times of trouble. His name is already familiar to you as it has been a while since he took charge. However, for the sake of formality, without much ado, I would like to present before you a qualified physician as our Minister of Health, Dr. Pyare Mohan”. The PM stepped a few paces back and to the right, making space for the minister.
At the signal, Pyare stepped up to the podium to another round of muted applause. He look towards his right and uttered a “Thank you, sir,” in the direction of the PM. He turned towards his audience and smiled. A few cameras continued flashing.
“Thank you, members of the media. I apologise for not having met you earlier. I had been busy trying to get a handle on the things in my office since my predecessor left. However, excuses will remain excuses. With that said, I look forwa
rd to responding to your questions to the best of my ability. No political questions, please”. Pyare Mohan smiled. A few journalists guffawed in approval.
“Doctor, can you tell us about the swine flu or H1N1 and how we are prepared to handle it?”
The collection of masked faces made it difficult to identify the questioner. How is one supposed to make eye contact if one does not know who asked the question? It could have been from someone in the first few rows, he thought.
“If the person who asked this would raise his hand, ...”, requested the minister.
First row. Masked man, aged 55 or more.
“Thank you, sir. May I request all to drop the doctor as my prefix as I am no longer practising the trade? Sir, to answer your question, H1N1 and swine flu are not synonymous. H1N1 is believed to be one of the variant strains of swine influenza that occurred in 1918. This, we believe has been causing seasonal flus year on year. The current issue...”
The PM beamed as the minister continued his response, rolling off from memory the few points his friend Dr. Prakash Yadav had told him during the farm house party.
“To say that we have the situation under control will be an exaggeration. Frankly speaking, we have a good understanding of the cause, symptoms and containment. However, we are yet to get a grip on its prevention and control on an infected person. We are making good progress in those areas and sooner, rather than later, we will have a vaccine ready for the masses. Until then, the ministry’s request to the people would be to follow diligently the advisories let out by us periodically through various media”.
A brief pause. The same reporter lifted his hand. There was a wave of murmurs in the room.
“Minister, how does H1N2 differ from H1N1?”. The man was looking down, seemingly reading out a piece of paper.
“H1N2 is another strain”, responded the minister, mildly unsettled.
“Quite. How does it differ and do we know it will not affect us?”
“Well, its symptoms differ and so does the medication. At this point, it has not surfaced anywhere to my knowledge, and we do not want to create any anxiety in that regard while we focus our attention towards what we have at hand, namely, H1N1”. The minister was looking slightly flustered. The smile on the Prime Minister’s face vanished.