Enumerator A reminded the paanwala that it was he who had invented the game and that it was due to his efforts that the paanwala’s clientele had increased tenfold in three new branches in a period of three months.

‘Fifty per cent for sitting there, doing nothing, while I do all the work. I can employ someone.’

‘But you will be a fake. I am the original. I have the records to prove it—here, see this red notebook.’

The paanwala remained silent for about twenty seconds. He knew Enumerator A was right. Before the game became popular, the paanwala had lived poorly. When he arrived in this bustling city, he knew no one. For the first few weeks, he had slept on the pavement. Then Enumerator A arrived. The paanwala’s life changed dramatically. Wasn’t it he who had seized the idea by its neck, transformed it from the clouds to the pavement and infused it with the required capital? Ideas are like small farts. Ideas are like clouds in the sky. Full of water but not everyone can make it rain. Enumerator A deserves nothing. These thoughts abandoned him midway, he changed course again. What if Enumerator A leaves? Didn’t the edifice stand on Enumerator A’s red notebook?

‘Okay, fifty per cent. But, you’ll have to work for it, don’t just rely on my shoulders.’

By the following Friday, Enumerator A and the paanwala had set the ground rules of their partnership. That very day, Young happened to pass by.

‘How come you’re still here? Don’t you know it has been two months since this project was shelved? I see, no one cared to tell you.’

‘Young sir, I’m no longer your employee. I’m a proprietor now.’

‘What stories you weave. Proprietor of what—measuring spitting distances?’ Young turned to the paanwala, ‘You can get rid of him now. No administrator will come after you.’

‘Thank you for your concern, Mr Young. But he is my employee—’

‘We’re partners,’ corrected Enumerator A.

‘Partners! What times do we live in? Any Tom  . well, damn it, damn it all!’ Young walked away in a hurry.

24