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The Meeting
I walked into the conference room but was surprised to be confronted by an empty hall. I looked at my schedule again. Yes, the press conference was supposed to happen today. Few minutes and few calls later realized that party leaders have canceled the meeting and as usual I was the last person to know about it in spite of heading the PR department. I sat down on the last chair trying to think about what to do and how to utilize the next 2 hours. It has been a rare opportunity for me to be alone and free since my RV party started the election campaign. With no plans for the next 2 hours, I didn’t know where to go.



“Pranav, is that you?” The voice brought me back to earth from my thoughts as it always did. I turned around to find Sanjana standing at the door. She looked still the same from my memories and still had the same effect on me.

“Hi, Sanjana, it is nice to see you. What brought you here? The leaders in CCP still paying to spy on our events?” I tried my best to keep in control of the fake antagonism towards her due to her party loyalty.

“Yes, Pranav they do,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm as well as an acceptance of the fact that their party was fading very fast in front of the RV party’s success.

“Well, there is nothing to record here today. The conference has been canceled last minute as our Netaji suddenly decided to fly to London and left us poor people uninformed,” I stated the truth.

“I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about it. Sad that no one in our party came to know about this or happy about the fact that I can spend the next 2 hours trying to do some creative work instead of preparing the stupid responses my leader would have needed after this press release from yours.” She said with utmost honesty.

“Are you saying what my leader says is stupid or that your leader’s responses are stupid?” I still chose to maintain the sarcasm and despise I had for her party and her leaders.

“Well, all I can say is that with the quality barbs being exchanged between our parties these days, it doesn’t leave enough space for us creative people to come with new or creative ideas.” She decided to stick with politeness and connect to the common bond we PR people shared being the outliers of political tussle.

“Would you like to have some coffee? This hotel has a nice shop on the roof. Promise we don’t have to talk work or politics.” I coughed up the courage to ask and respond politely to her honesty.

“Yeah, sure! Unless you are afraid of me stealing more of your campaign ideas!! Honestly, I need to kill the next two hours before Ashish picks me up. You know Ashish right, my husband?”

“Of course, I remember him. After all, he was my junior before you even joined the college across the road from mine.” I hoped she didn’t pick up any scorn in my voice.

“Oh yeah forgot that. Let us go then.”

I looked at my watch and saw I still had just under two hours to kill. Since I had asked the question now it would seem impolite to say no. “Sure, I also have a couple of hours to kill before I pick up my daughter from her music and dance class.”



We started walking towards the elevators, deciding to complete the journey in silence. Entering the elevators and being this close to her was something I was not prepared for at all. It had been almost 14 years since last we stood this close together. Back in college and under very different circumstances. I hoped she wouldn’t remember that. We exited the elevator, settled down on a table, and ordered our own poisons. Then both of us looked around not sure how to start the conversation.



“So what are your party’s plans on seat sharing in the coming election? Is it all done?” I tried to break the silence.

“Who is spying now?” She asked with a smile in her eyes. Then continued as she saw the discomfort this question caused me. “You know, in spite of being a national party, we have been going downhill over the past decade. Nowadays we depend a lot on our local allies to make up the numbers. You won’t believe how much our party is bending backward for them. I have lost count of the number of times I had to redo my campaigns just because some local leaders from the allies had some personal and usually stupid objection to it.”
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