“Tell me how?” said Sathya turning eager.
“We will talk about that later,” said Chandra concernedly. “But now your tale takes precedence for it seems unresolved.”
“Oh, how nicely you've put it!” began Sathya as Chandra got ready not to drop a word. “It was on 15th March that I reached Cal to join Goddard & Griffith. That was two years ago and as a Purchase Officer for your detail. And it didn't occur to me then that Caesar was done in on the ides of March. Anyway, I was surprised at seeing a peon doubling up as the receptionist at the office in 13, Camac Street. As I learned later, it was a different story altogether. It seems the boss of the day fancied the then Miss. Receptionist and took her under his romantic wings. And to further her professional cause as well, he made her a Miss Purchase Assistant, what was worse, he installed a peon in her place. Though she was found wanting at the purchase desk, yet he was making out to the higher-ups, that she was reducing the lead periods. Why, that made the detractors sneer that the reference could be to her own periods.”
Chandra had a hearty laugh followed by a strong puff of the Berkeley.
“As he was a man of substance, even otherwise, he moved up the ladder to the London Office. The man who replaced him thought it fit to shift the favored Miss to where she belonged. But the workers' union would have none of that. You know how shortsighted these unions turn into when it comes to the company interests. And that left the office reception in the rough hands of that semi-literate. One day, however, the bubble burst as the younger brother of the company director came on a visit. In a case of classic mess up, the peon informed the new head that someone from the Younger Brother & Co. came to call on him. Aghast at what he saw, the irritated visitor reported the matter to his director brother. It was that comedy of errors which triggered the move to recruit a proper receptionist. It was thus that my fate had placed Kala at the reception before it led me into the portals of the office. If you are a believer in numerology, 13 is a symbol of 'power‟ which if wrongly used will wreck destruction upon itself.‟
“Oh, the ides of March and 13, Camac Street!” said Chandra a little perplexed. “Were you struck by lightning then?”
“On the contrary,” said Sathya reminiscently, “I wasn't impressed by her at all. I found her odd for she was a little plump with a fluffy face and nigger hair. Not the sort I would fall for any day. Why, I told my colleague Gopal that she would be the last person to interest me in the world.”