“Brother, I want to tell you something. Please don’t take it the wrong way. And don’t think a young man is giving you advice. Whatever’s happening right now is just bad luck. The guy up there is rolling the dice, and none of us down here has any idea what’s going to show up for us.”

“True enough.”

“I’ve seen them myself. The brothers. They used to buy things in the market and then carry it all home themselves, because they could not even afford a coolie . . .”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Him. Who else? Well, let’s say I am talking about a friend of ours. Now, nobody’s saying people should know their place and that’s where they belong. But still, there’s got to be some limits, brother. Just because they’ve made a little money, they shouldn’t imagine they are Maharaja Moolam Thirunal.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Why do you keep asking who I’m talking about! About our next municipal chairman, that’s who!”

“Who?”

“Oh! Looks like you haven’t heard the news. Don’t you read the Nesan?”

Isakki took out his newspaper and placed it open in front of Khader.

Khader picked up the paper. The first thing he saw was Dhamu’s picture. He read the report.

“So he is contesting in the elections? Somebody did mention it a few days ago.”

“We’ve been hearing about it for ten days now. I didn’t believe it at first. Then he showed up at my office yesterday and told me he had filed his nomination and that he was counting on our support . . .”

“Let him contest, let him win, let him become the chairman,” said Khader.

“Yes, let him shine! I don’t have a problem with that.”

“And you give him the support he wants. As it is, your newspaper is all about Dhamu these days. And when people think of Dhamu, they think of your newspaper. So we know how things will be in the future.”

“Who? Us?”

“Yes, you. I know what’s going on. You print his picture, you publish his speeches, you say he challenged someone or the other, you print headlines that say ‘He raised a war cry’ against this or that . . . Carry on! What’s he paying you for the publicity? A thousand a month?”

“. . .”

“What? No reply?”

“I’ll take leave, brother.” Isakki rose from his chair and brought his hands together to bid goodbye.

“Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

“Nothing. I can see that you are upset right now. I can easily talk back to you, but I don’t want to risk others hearing it. You have the wrong impression of things. I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Why? Was I wrong in what I said?”