Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian) (15 page)

‘Snuggles!’ she exclaimed. ‘You make shoes for Snuggles.’ The tongue of the shoe had a label of Snuggles stitched on it.

‘Yes, Didi. Even handbags. We work exclusively for them.’ Cirisha was surprised that an MNC like Snuggles got their shoes manufactured in Dharavi. Cirisha turned towards Gangu Tai, a look of anger swelling in her eyes. ‘So you run a fake shoe racket, Gangu Tai?’

‘No, no, Didi,’ Gangu Tai responded hurriedly. ‘These are genuine shoes. I can show you the order copies too.’ Gangu Tai, feeling a little insulted, went out of her way to convince Cirisha that their business was genuine. She walked to the office and pulled out a file. By the time she came back, Cirisha had clicked images of a few shoes on her iPhone, making sure that the Snuggles tag was captured. She wanted to show it to Aditya.

As she walked through the facility, the sight of young girls, barely in their teens, working there irritated her. Even Gangu Tai’s youngest daughter was there, packing shoes into boxes.

What got her worked up was that if Snuggles was getting contract work done in that factory, it should have made sure that the work environment was up to the mark and more importantly, that it adhered to the ‘no child labour’ policy which most good companies have. She despised Shivinder, and this only made it worse.

Aditya was already home by the time she reached. ‘Hi Cirisha!’ he said as he opened the door, making a feeble attempt at giving her a hug. Cirisha pushed him away. ‘Sorry, Aditya. I’m feeling very dirty after a day inside Dharavi. Let me take a quick shower and then you can give me a big, big hug.’ She smiled and rushed towards the bathroom. Aditya could hear the splashing of water on the floor. He sat down on the bed. ‘Adi, you there?’ Cirisha screamed from inside the bathroom.

‘I am right here waiting for you.’

‘You know Gangu Tai has her own business now. She employs close to two hundred people.’

‘Yeah? What does she do?’

‘She works for your friend.’

‘Who?’

‘Shivinder. Who else?’ she screamed above the noise of gushing water.

‘What rubbish!’ Aditya exclaimed. The bathroom door opened and Cirisha was standing there, a towel wrapped around her, arms akimbo. ‘What did you say? Rubbish? Eh?’ And she walked briskly to her bag and pulled out her mobile phone. She quickly flicked through a few screens of her new iPhone and held it out towards Aditya. ‘See.’

Aditya took the phone from her hand and browsed through the pictures.

‘Look at the last few pictures.’ Cirisha referred to the labels. She wanted Aditya to see the images that she had clicked.

Aditya reached the image of the label and stopped. ‘You took these pictures at Gangu Tai’s factory?’

‘Yes. Gangu Tai and her partner, a guy called Raghu. Both are from the same village.’

‘And you said the factory is in Dharavi?’

‘Right.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes.’

‘Must be fakes then.’

‘No, Adi. I thought of the same thing. But only until I saw the order from Snuggles. It was an original letter signed by Deven Khatri.’

‘Deven Khatri?’

‘Yes. He is the same guy who ran away with Shivinder’s money, right? I took a picture of the order copy too. And you know what, Adi, when I saw what was going on there, I was pissed off as hell. They don’t even bother about working conditions in these sweatshops. Children work there, Aditya. Children. It’s shameful for an MNC like Snuggles. You must tell your friend.’ Aditya just nodded. He hadn’t heard a word of what she said. He scrolled through the images and reached the last picture—of the order copy. It was on what looked like an original letterhead of Snuggles. And it was indeed signed by Deven Khatri. Dated March 2007, it was an order for shoes and bags to be supplied over the next six months.

Two questions clouded Aditya’s mind. First, why would a CFO sign a manufacturing order? And second, Snuggles did not have a manufacturing unit in Mumbai, leave alone Dharavi. Then what was this unit of Gangu Tai doing?

His newly acquired iPhone was lying next to him. He tried calling Shivinder whose phone was not reachable. That’s when he remembered that Shivinder was away on a vacation, an exquisite Alaskan cruise. ‘Such discussions can’t happen over the phone,’ he said to himself and decided to wait for Shivinder’s return.

Cirisha was hit by a bout of insomnia that night. She was in an extremely agitated frame of mind when she remembered that Richard had done some work with the American Apparel and Footwear Association, and sought him out. She wrote to him in detail about what had transpired at the footwear factory and requested him to raise it with Snuggles if he had any contact with them through the footwear association. She obviously didn’t want to route the request through Shivinder.

25

Early October 2007

MIT, Boston

Deahl was in his room, engrossed in a serious discussion with Richard, when there was a knock on the door.

‘Later, please,’ Deahl thundered without even looking up.

‘Dr Deahl.’ The visitor was unfazed and stood there adamantly.

Deahl had heard the voice earlier. ‘Aah. Lucier. Why is it that you insist on giving us the pleasure of your company at the most inappropriate of times? Especially when you should not be seen here.’

‘Good evening, Dr Deahl. Mr Avendon.’ Lucier looked at Richard and just nodded his head, completely ignoring the sarcastic comment. Richard acknowledged him. He had seen him a couple of times in the past. He was not at all fond of Lucier, particularly his near-perfect sense of dressing—expensive Zegna suits, handcut black shoes, a briefcase in hand, which Richard always suspected held more than a few sheets of paper. ‘It is urgent, Dr Deahl.’

‘Please take a seat.’ Deahl shut the file he was looking at. Turning towards Richard, he said, ‘We will discuss this later.’ He looked at Lucier with eyebrows raised. ‘Would you mind if Mr Avendon stays? He is …’ Lucier interrupted him. ‘Yes I know. He is driving the research for you. Please be my guest.’

Deahl reached out to the telephone to call his secretary. ‘Don’t worry, Dr Deahl. I have told her not to disturb us for the next twenty minutes,’ Lucier said.

‘OK. That’s kind of you. What brings you here? Your presence here gets me nervous. I can’t be seen conferring with you on anything, least of all my research. It’s the institute’s reputation at stake.’

‘Have you seen this?’ Lucier didn’t even bother to listen to Deahl. He threw something on the table. Seeing the blank look on Deahl’s face, he added, ‘You might want to read it.’

Deahl picked it up. It was a copy of the
New York Times
. Right on top was a big picture of Senator Barrack Obama with a headline, ‘Obama: The Most Anti-Gun President in the History of America’. And in fine print, it carried the line, ‘If He Becomes One’. The article went on to suggest how Obama the senator supported the blanket ban on buying and carrying guns in the state of Illinois.

‘If this man comes to power, we will be in a serious spot.’ Lucier had a concerned look which made wrinkles appear on his forehead. ‘We can’t let him come to power. The only way we can counter him is if your research comes out favourable to us and we are able to drive public opinion based on that.’

‘I am aware.’

‘Then why is it taking so much time? The Democrats will announce their candidates for the elections in another four months. It’s likely to be an Obama vs Hillary game. In all likelihood Obama will win the nominations by the time the March primaries are done with. A Republican win seems unlikely given the public mood. Our hopes for a favourable report for the NRA are receding really quickly. Obama cannot become the President, we have to do everything possible to counter his anti-gun stance.’

‘Thanks, Lucier. We do understand the urgency.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Lucier’s fists came thumping down on the table. ‘The NRA needs the research done and dusted by December. Not later than that. The NRA can’t go down. We haven’t paid twenty million dollars for nothing.’

Deahl nodded his head as Lucier got up from his seat and swaggered out of the door.

A nervous Richard looked at Deahl. ‘Weird guy.’

‘The NRA does function in a strange manner. Look, Richard. No one in his or her right senses will oppose some form of gun control in this country. But the NRA guys know their business, which is why they have bought out our research even before commissioning it. The twenty million dollars that they have pumped into this research puts the onus on us to prove why gun control is not required. By linking gun-related crime and poverty, they would have done enough to deflect all the pressure from gun-control laws to the broader issue of economic development. Twenty million dollars is a lot of money. And our research will give them lots of credibility. I won’t be surprised if they have related research being conducted by different universities across the country.’

‘True.’

‘And Richard, don’t bother about the politics of gun rights. A good report here can propel you into your tenured position. Just remember that.’

Richard smiled and walked towards the door. Wasn’t he willing to do anything for a tenured position? In any case he was extremely confident that this time around he would make it. He had enough going his way.

‘And Richard!’ Richard stopped and turned around. ‘Where are we on the prison data?’

‘Data gathering in three prisons is done, James. It is being tabulated and analysed now. I’ll send it to you tomorrow. Will that do?’

‘Yes. That will be fine.’

The door banged shut behind Richard and Deahl got busy with his papers. He had a class to prepare for the next day.

26

3rd October 2007

Mumbai

Cirisha had got up early that day. Gangu Tai had promised to take her to the other end of Dharavi, which housed the glass and metal-forging facilities. A morning cup of coffee for her was always accompanied by a quick checking of emails.

Richard had responded to her email sent a few days ago.

Cirisha,

Hope all is well. I checked with the Snuggles office in Boston. I did apprise them about the issues you had mentioned. I even told them that in case the media picked that up, it would lead to significant erosion of their brand value. But I got a very strange response from them. It’s self-explanatory. Forwarding it to you. I’m off to Chicago for a conference tomorrow morning. James was to go. But he got busy and asked me to go. In case you want something from the Magnificent Mile, drop me an email. I’ll get it. Pay me later.

When she read the response from Snuggles, it irritated her no end. How could that be? How could an MNC lie and that too so blatantly? She wrote back to Richard.

Can you give me the email ID of their compliance/HR or whoever looks into it? It’s a bit unclear from this email. I will write to them. What they are saying is not true. I have seen it with my own eyes. And thanks for the offer on Magnificent Mile. I don’t need anything from there. My needs aren’t so sophisticated.