The worst thing one has to do in any job is to have a discussion with the persons they most despise. For the army chiefs of both India and Pakistan, the other peer was the most despicable guy in the world. Once they joined the army, all they were taught was about enemy across the border. But, career progression had some compromises imposed on any person.
Inderjeet Singh Rana was into his third round of drink with his friends, who also happened to be his immediate subordinates. Sitting in the Delhi’s army club, dressed like Scottish aristocrats, they were enjoying whisky brewed in Scotland, for real. The group, unlike their daily routine, was not playing rummy. They were not even talking to each other. They were simply drinking. Even at the next table, where their wives were sitting, the mood was not casual. Instead of gossiping, they were seriously discussing the news being bombarded into their living rooms forcing them to divert their attention from their daily soaps, as if they were in a war room.
Rana was in a foul mood. Just before he was leaving for the club, he received a message instructing him to talk to Shah, army chief of Pakistan. He could not refuse and had to call. Finishing the call, he called the Prime Minister directly and informed that his discussion with Shah had nothing new to add to the news being telecast in bulletins. He also requested the civilian head not to instruct further to speak with Shah.
“It was waste of time. Now or ever. That stupid Shah never knows anything,” he spoke at last to break the silence. Others nodded. “I’m sleepy. Goodnight, gentlemen,” Rana rose and looked at his wife.
Later, covering his face with a blanket, he muttered to himself, “Stupid politicians. Never understand the psychology of the military.” He looked jealously at his wife who was sleeping peacefully, and struggled for nearly two hours before sleeping.
* * * * *
Rameswaran realised long ago that he had a streak of sadism in his mind. He once blackmailed the wife of one senior leader to become an official contestant in the assembly elections. He recorded her dancing with her lover, who happened to be the friend of her husband, and demanded her to push her husband in his favour. He enjoyed her discomfort while he negotiated the settlement. Later when his power was rising, he exploited the lady herself.
Since then, he liked recordings, whether audio or video. After dinner, he called his secretary to his living room and asked him to play the recorded telephone call between Rana and Shah.
It was Rana’s tone that spoke first, “Hello, my dear Shah. How do you do?”
The reply, however, was sarcastic: “Forget me. I am and will be fine. What about you? Seems as if your voice is shaking. Have you got a cold?”
Controlling his irritation, Rana replied, “No. Nothing. I’m fine.”
“So, what made you call me in the evening? You are getting late for the club,” his irritation was growing.
“Forget the club. What’s the news that is on TV? Are you really planning something with nukes?”
“Yes. There will be a nuke that would be dropped on India. So, what’s new in that? All our nukes were meant for that purpose only.”
“Are you serious? Or you are just covering the fact that you also don’t know anything about this?” Rana started retorting.
“Maybe. Maybe not. What difference would it make whether I planned it or not? Even if I don’t know, if there is an explosion, don’t you think it is sufficient?”
“May I remind you of repercussions of such an act of cowardice?” Rana shouted.
“Save the lecture for the press. I’m getting late. I also go to a club,” Shah chuckled. Before cutting the line, he said, “By the way, thanks for providing a topic for today’s chinwag.”
Whether Shah liked the conversation or not Rameswaran definitely enjoyed it. He looked at his secretary and said, “Tonight, I can sleep peacefully.” His secretary smiled understandingly.
* * * * *

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