A Meeting to Attend

Saksham Mathur, age 13, is a student of class VII at Anand Niketan International School, Ahmedabad. He is deeply interested in science and its mysteries.

Saksham loves outings to exotic places. He is very fond of playing cricket and table tennis. In his free time, Saksham likes to dabble in creativity and finer arts. He also enjoys speaking from public platforms.

The Volkswagen Tiguan was rumbling. Perhaps a little too much for Gaurav’s liking. He would send it to be serviced during the weekend. But for now he stepped on the accelerator, couped up with more pressing matters. The car’s rumbling escalated to a low scream.

Gaurav stole a quick look at the time on his dashboard: 10:28. He would make it to the meeting at the last second. Thankfully there wasn’t much traffic. The Volkswagen turned right into a narrow one-way lane and Gaurav wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Whether the sweat was a result of cutting it close with the meeting, or a hot day, he did not know. After a moment of thought, he reached for the infotainment screen to turn up the air conditioner.

One of the most critical qualities of a driver is having quick reflexes. Fortunately for Gaurav, he possessed that quality. His hand never touched the screen, but instead gripped the steering wheel. The Volkswagen swerved right, almost climbing the sidewalk, as an Innova Crysta driven by a turbaned man charged ahead from behind him, Punjabi music blaring out from its half-opened windows. The car would have demolished Gaurav’s side view mirror if he had been a second late. ‘Nutcase!’ Gaurav said furiously.

No horn, not even a signal! And to add to that, he continued to zoom away as if nothing had happened, now contributing to the song that was playing in unflattering tones. He recalled something his father, an IRS officer, had told him when he was learning to drive.

‘People in India drive their cars like rockets, but you must drive yours like a car.’

Now immersed in the days of Maruti 800s, Gaurav found himself outside the gates of his office. The security guard opened the gates and saluted as he took his car down the basement. Gaurav locked his car, entered the lift and pressed a button. He looked at his watch. 10:39. He was late. Well, at least he had an excuse now.

 Gaurav walked briskly across the lobby and to the conference room once the lift’s doors opened and entered the conference room. ‘Good morning.’ he said to his colleague, Sandeep Singhi. ‘Good morning, Gaurav.’ Sandeep smiled at the third man in the room and said to Gaurav ‘You may want to acquaint yourself to our client.’

‘Good morning sir, my name is Gaurav Mathur.’

‘Nice to meet you, Gaurav. My name is Sukhwinder Singh.’ The man in the turban placed his Toyota car keys on the table and held out a hand.

Gaurav didn’t shake it.