Anchor by Avik Chanda

Author:Avik Chanda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-01-05T10:38:02+00:00

11:49 p.m.

The blurb on Madeline Albright has undergone several surgical procedures. What began with a hundred words – no, make that seventy-five – was pared down to sixty at Bibhash Saha’s operating table and then amputated twice further in quick succession, until what was left of the text took up less space than the typical three-line ‘trapezium’ headline, and then finally the chief sub glanced up at Abhijit, shook his head and said (almost apologetically) – you know what, let’s leave this one out for now, too many other items coming in tonight.

Abhijit smiles a bit self-consciously, and after asking both Barnali and Sambit (the latter for some reason pretending not to have heard the question) if they needed help with anything, and with a final fleeting look at Sudipta (every time you glance at that female, it seems she’s been observing you, why is that?) has excused himself, and is now back at the landing where he and Jayanto had earlier had their little chat.

Dark, heavy night.

The rain has let up for now. But if the clouds were an army, there is still plenty of troop movement up there. Abhijit is reminded of something and curses to himself. He couldn’t give a shit about that blurb or, for that matter, anything else related to work. Really! At this moment, all he needs is some fresh air. He feels strange, restless. All evening today the newsroom has felt so stifling he could choke. How can people work in there? To Abhijit, it seems as if in the entire history of the building that room has never been ventilated and as if the ghosts of those scribes of yesteryears have remained in that room all this while, unseen, chain-smoking the air to pure poison.

But no. There’s nothing wrong with that room or with those people.

It’s just you.

True, something’s happening to him. His mouth has gone completely dry again, and he starts to cough. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand and wheezes and hacks till the back of his throat starts to burn.

There. Gone now, finally. Shit! Where did that come from? And see, now his head feels vacant, suddenly light, as if the inside of his cranium had been emptied out completely, scraped hollow. Abhijit steadies himself, a hand gripping the railing. That not-so-unfamiliar, dodgy feeling. It’s the dope beginning to wear off.

And as if this would make anything better, he taps his pockets for a cigarette. Damn! That asshole Jayanto’s bummed the last one he had. And he can’t drag himself to buy one at the paanwallah’s. Besides, perhaps it’s already too late and those shops downstairs all shuttered down for the night.

He coughs again, deliberately, to feel the hurt.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

Abhijit turns around. It’s Madan. The man seemed to have appeared suddenly, conjured out of the black. Was he really around on the landing? How come he missed him?

‘A cup of tea?’ Madan asks again.

Abhijit looks at him tiredly. Look, I know you mean well.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.