Sasukumar had panicked when he heard the door bell ring; was there a midnight security breach at one of the condominiums or shopping malls whose security operation he had contracted? Fearing the worst, he had stumbled down the stairs in his singlet and boxer shorts, only to find the gang of six at the gate.

“It is midnight! What is it you want that cannot wait?” Sasukumar hissed irritably. He had always made it a point to dress impeccably in a long-sleeved business shirt and a tie when he moved about in the constituency. It was his belief that a community grassroots leader had an image to maintain and he hated that the gang of six had caught him in such a dishevelled and underdressed state.

“If we wait any longer, you will have to visit the five of them in jail!” Kaustubh declared histrionically. He could almost hear the sharp crescendo of music that invariably accompanied dramatic plot twists in Tamil movies.

Sasukumar let in the gang and excused himself to change into something more decent. Upon his return, the five shopkeepers fell over one another to update him. They should have known better than to succumb to the temptation, but it was insufferably frustrating to witness Nayagam Ranjan clearing his beer stock while theirs stagnated. Times were terribly hard since the Little India riot. Surely their esteemed grassroots leader could understand their regretful infraction of the alcohol sales ban? Now they would need him to appeal to the MP on their behalf. All of them were way past their prime and none would survive jail time.

Sasukumar turned to Nayagam and professed his incredulity. “Of all people, Nayagam, I would never have expected you to break the law!”

Nayagam bowed his head in shame. Both Sasukumar’s and his own ancestors hailed from the same province in Tamil Nadu, India. His greed had led him to commit an act of treason that sank an entire clan into disrepute.

“You have to speak to the lady MP on my papa’s behalf,” Kaustubh urged.

“The lady MP, Sharon Shi, is the one who pushed for the alcohol sales ban. If she tries to absolve all of you, she will become the laughing stock in parliament.”

“Is there nothing you can do for us?” There was collective dismay.

“I will speak to the MP. Maybe she can persuade the police to issue a fine but drop the jail sentence.” Sasukumar had long learned that it was never wise for a constituency grassroots leader to decline outright an entreaty from the residents. There were other ways to say no.

The gang of six left the terrace house dejected; their esteemed grassroots leader had given them no assurance. It was imperative that they seek help from another figure of authority. A quick roadside discussion led to a consensus; they would appeal to the chairman of the Little India Shopkeepers Association.