6 DecemberPosted: October 10, 2010
Neempatta walks in to my cubicle.
“Appi, come have coffee with me.”
Comma looks up from her pile of case notes, and widens her eyes, as if to ask, “What have you done now, baby?”
Neempatta doesn’t usually have the time to chat over coffee with any of us, unless she wants to discuss something serious. She is too bogged down with:
1. Her seminars, lectures.
2. Notes, weekly articles in the newspapers.
3. Her fight for legislative changes to ensure more justice to women left in the lurch by their husbands and in-laws.
4. Minority personal laws.
5. And other such stuff.
Neempatta shuffles some papers, and without looking at me asks, “So, Appi, ready to take on your friend, High BP’s case?”
I almost sputter my coffee out.
“Neempatta, he is not my friend. You don’t know what he’s like. I don’t want to take on his case.”
Neempatta looks up, and gives me a most enigmatic smile.
“Appi, don’t be so pig-headed. It’s a big case; it will be good practice for you. And give the man a fair chance. I think he may be innocent.”
What can I say? After all, she is my boss. And though she’s never usually wrong, I do believe she is wrong on this one. The thought of meeting High BP on and off is not a pleasant one.