‘You know it is Scotch, a present at that,’ said Sathyam to Roopa. ‘And Prasad would be here to celebrate.’
‘Celebrate what?’ she said in surprise.
‘What else it is but my progress in life,’ he said shrugging his shoulders.
At that before a nonplussed Roopa could respond to Sathyam, Prasad had stormed in.
‘But why at home?’ exclaimed Prasad as if to ingratiate himself with Roopa.
‘Isn’t it better than coming home dead drunk?’ she said to Prasad’s disappointment.
‘How I wish you’re more sensitive to her feelings,’ Prasad admonished Sathyam as though to put a wedge between them, all by himself.
‘I too wish she shares my excitement a little,’ said Sathyam filling the glasses. ‘I feel I was a mere file pusher earlier. Now I see the faces of those whose cases I handle. And it’s quite satisfying that way.’
‘I hear there’s money to make over there,’ said Prasad in undertone. ‘I mean, under the table.’
As she happened to come with some roasted papads for them then, Roopa overheard him, and said, ‘I warned him not to fall for all that. Set aside morals, who knows what might be the fallout of it?’
‘Sitting at home, it’s easy to sit in judgment over others,’ said Sathyam. ‘It’s not as if I’m dying for the bribe money. But what does she know about things as they stand in today’s world. Anyone in business would jack up his bid to take care of the folks. Even if I were to decline my share of the mark-up, still that won’t bring any discount to the table. It’s another matter though that project costs are overestimated everywhere, to accommodate one and all. The choice thus boils down to picking up your share of the loot or gaping at those pocketing it. Understand. Now tell me, by taking my cut, am I not just robbing the robbers.’
‘When it’s not your due,’ she said spiritedly, ‘why hanker for it, never mind the others.’
‘Isn’t coveting the part of being,’ said Prasad, imagining an innuendo.
‘It’s all about individual orientation towards the value system,’ said Roopa seemingly answering him.
‘Of what avail are the old world values anymore,’ said Sathyam in exasperation. ‘Besides, who cares for them these days? Now, it’s the money that measures man’s worth. No one bothers how one comes to make the buck. What matters is how much moolah one has. One could choose values for company but prosperity seeks the pliable.’
‘So what,’ she said indignantly, ‘of what worth is money without virtue?’