Seasons

Rina fumbled with her writing pad in her corner seat next to the satin-festooned ramp, trying to look invisible and confident by turns.

Dim chandelier lights, orchids, wall length mirrors, the chatterati in swishing silks and suits. Perfect for the Lkme fashion curtain raiser. But she’d rather be covering commodities; her usual beat, watching zinc burn up the bourses.

“ Oh did you really tell him that?” said an amused voice from the seat behind her. “Fuchsia is soo garish this year, specially ruffles. You told Arjun?”

“ Yes, pink is quite the new black. I told him to reconsider. After all, the Dalal name would forever be linked with such people. Whoever heard of such a thing.” a clipped accent replied.

“ Nouveau rich. Such poor taste. Imagine giving your interest the family jewellery to flaunt. Everyone has an interest or two, all right, but to give away heirlooms… how silly… “

“I told Arjun to watch out. Not quite our level. Or sensible.”

“So that Petro thing is off? That girl’s way too lean for this halter top.“

“He’ll do as I say. Old money knows the smell of cash. That’s what he says.”

“Really? I can’t believe you just said that. Terrible, isn’t it? ”

“ Why? What’s wrong with that? Just a few signatures on paper. Hemant’s showing this afternoon.”

“ Maybe I’ll go to the Galleria one. All the headlines, the news conferences, soundbytes?”

“ So what! It’s only a cross- border document. Even if the PM witnessed it.”

“ Rather unusual, I know. Seemed like such a smart deal. But under the circumstances, maybe.

Next morning the newspaper featured a headline: “Dalal to end $10 bill Petrochemical deal.”