There are four TV sets mounted on the wall that faces the news desk—all four are showing different news channels and all are blaring at a volume that makes it hard to hear any of them. There’s another TV, a 52-inch plasma screen on the wall adjacent to Ed’s office; but like every other day, it only flashes Tabloid’s motto—Everything Is News—in neon pink.

Ed watches the TV screens—his eyes darting across all four, his face enraptured. He occasionally punches the air as if he’s watching a cricket match that India is winning. Comma is sitting atop one of the desks and is furiously taking notes. Sinha stands behind her with his hands clasped behind his back and watches the screens, and Comma, with a condescending, self-satisfied smile.

I have a sudden vision of my mother-in-law who smiles in a similar, creepy fashion. It’s a disgusting vision and makes me want to throw up. My mother-in-law—I call her Dragon—always brings out the worst in me.

Even as I think of Dragon, she’s sitting on a train bound for Delhi and will arrive later in the evening. If it wasn’t for the innocent people on that train, I would fervently wish for it to fall into the Yamuna. Dragon always brings bad news with her—in fact Dragon is the incarnation of bad news.

Suddenly someone turns up the TV volume. There is a ticker running at the bottom of each screen, with various versions of the same news—‘Hannibal Koli “confesses” to sexually assaulting and murdering sixteen Nithari children’. All channels are showing the same dated filed video. Two men—an elderly bearded man and a darker moustached one—are being led out of a courtroom surrounded by policemen when lawyers suddenly pounce on the bearded man and beat him. The man faints.

Ever since the mutilated bodies of children were found outside a posh house in the bordering village of Nithari—in 2006—the media has not been able to let go of the news. ‘This is not breaking news. Why are all these channels showing such old news? Has there been a new development in the Nithari case?’ Ragini asks, looking around at everybody.

‘No Mish Ragini, no new development. All channelsh are rehashing old newsh,’ Sewer Rat answers and smiles at Ragini.

Everyone knows he has a huge crush on Ragini, much to her disgust.

‘Why the fuck are we watching it then?’ she asks and does not even glance at Rat.

‘Because Mish Ragini—’

‘Can someone else—who talks properly—please answer. Shut up Rat,’ Ragini lashes out at Rat.

‘Are you inshulting me?’

‘Oh I’m sorry. I thought you liked being called Rat, Rat. I could always call you arsehole, but that’s bad manners,’ Ragini says.

There are some nervous titters from the assembled crowd.