OPPORTUNITY

There was a collective rustle of papers and scraping of chairs as they

prepared to exit the conference room.

Suddenly a young voice, polite but resolute, called out, stopping them

in their tracks.

‘And why should we do that?’

Standing tall in blue jeans and a T-shirt was Abhinav Raj Singh who

had come unannounced as a nominee of his father, Raviraj Singh, and

had stood quietly in the corner till then. Besides being an influential

businessman, Raviraj was also an important trustee of the college. His

ideals, principles and philanthropic activities were legendary. He was

respected and feared by almost all in the committee equally. Mr Mathur

was hoping to count on him during such a meeting as well as for his own

extension.

The committee members were not amused by the young man’s

audacity in questioning their collective decision. But they were also

aware of the consequences of incurring the wrath of the heir to Raviraj’s

vast empire. Shifting their stance, they welcomed the young man to the

meeting.

Aby approached the first available chair. His face was expressionless,

hiding the fact that his heart was beating wildly against his chest. His

body language displayed no signs of nervousness. But his eyes were

cold. They gave the impression that he was present in the meeting for a

purpose. Bowing slightly, he glanced at all the members before

continuing with his impromptu speech.

‘Since when have we started creating cultural differences inside our

college? Don’t you think, Sir, that by damaging the secular fibre of this

very fine educational institution we could be inflicting a serious blow to

its reputation? Should we be seen politicizing such matters and risk a

divide on religious lines?’

There was a momentary silence in the hall. Those who knew the

senior Singh could have sworn that it was the father speaking and not the

son. The slow whir of the ceiling fans echoed through the silence but

they were not effective enough to dry the sweat on the brows of most of the trustees, especially Shastri’s.

Aby’s insight was strong, sensible and logical. His words had put the

trustees in an embarrassingly difficult position. Shastri gathered himself

to make a statement. He knew he could not offend his benefactor even

through his son. ‘Well, I just made a suggestion, Abhinav. If the

committee thinks that Sehmat can do justice to such a vital and glorified

role, so be it.’ As if stung by a venomous snake, Shastri’s voice had lost

its power of conviction and influence. Mathur was quick to notice the

change and grabbed the opportunity.

‘So do we select Sehmat?’ The principal’s voice had regained some of

its authority. Though he sounded unbiased and detached, he secretly felt

relieved that a deserving student would be able to showcase her talent.

Moments later, the half-hearted grunts from the trustees sealed the

decision in Sehmat’s favour.

As if on a cue, the principal stood up to conclude the proceedings. His

guilt-filled conscience had emerged clean. His voice was filled with

traces of victory as he spoke with relief and ease, ‘Going by Sehmat’s

conduct and performance in the past two years, her academic excellence

as well as her contribution towards the college’s cultural achievements, it

is only fair that she be given a chance to enact the role of Meerabai. By

selecting a girl belonging to the minority community we would, in fact,

be sending a strong and positive message to all about the secular

character of our institution. I am also aware that she has performed the

role of Radha on many occasions in the past and has repeatedly exceeded

our expectations. We therefore need not worry that she will not

understand the nuances of the theme or will not do justice to this

important role. I am sure that both Mitali Sharma and Sehmat Khan will

do us proud and bring home the coveted trophy.’

After finishing his short speech, the principal looked up for reactions

and noticed the raised hand of Mr Bajpayee, one of the trustees. Mathur

paused, giving him an opportunity to speak.

‘I agree with you, Mr Principal. Abhinav has made a valid point and I

second the proposal,’ said Bajpayee, in a tone laced with sycophancy. He

too owed his existence to Aby’s father and did not want to miss an

opportunity to drive home his loyalty. The meeting ended with the usual formalities

Aby decided to remain discreet about his role in Sehmat’s selection

and walked out of the committee room without waiting to be served tea.Sehmat Khan was aware of the notes of dissent from the staunch

Kashmiri Pandits. Being a Muslim, she did not expect to be selected for

the key role. It was only when she saw the notice pinned on the bulletin

board with her name printed on top in bold for the lead role that she

jumped with joy. She was ecstatic. A tear escaped her eyes. Her friends

clapped and hugged her in a tight embrace. In the short celebration,

Sehmat did not notice a smiling Aby standing behind the corridor pillar,

taking in every bit of her joy. Feeling elated, he watched her walk away

with her friends till she reached the far end of the corridor.

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