“What’s there to happen? Electricity! The man was totally smitten. It came to a point where if you asked him what to write for the editorial, he’d say, ‘I will consult her and get back to you.’”

Khader laughed.

“She is definitely a very lucky woman. The old man died within two years, leaving her the press, the paper, everything!”

“That’s some story.”

“Story? They should make a movie out of it! You should see our plight, now that we work for her. Even the street dogs have it better. She owns three horse-drawn carriages that she rents out. For three years now, I have been trying to tell her that there is a difference between us journalists and carriage drivers. But it doesn’t seem to get through that thick skull of hers. She sees me in the morning and the first thing she says is, ‘Hey, you! Did you bring in any adoosement yesterday?’”

“What’s that?”

“Ad sales. Advertisement. What we call ‘vilambaram’ in Tamil. She says, ‘You! Are you still wasting precious space writing about these loafers who amount to nothing? You need to bring in more adoosement!’ . . . Khader, brother, it is a struggle working for her . . . God! . . . But then, I get yelled at by her, then I step outside, and I run into people who tell me things like: ‘Hey! You really gave it to Russia in that article!’ Or ‘You smashed Churchill’s head with that one,’ or ‘You really ripped apart the budget’ . . . I feel happy when I hear these things . . . Just a small happiness . . . I mean, I have chosen this life . . . You know what I mean? . . . So what can I do, it’s a dog’s life . . . I think I will start crying if I carry on . . .”

Khader looked at Isakki’s face for a minute or so. What he saw was the face of an innocent child and the face of a master comedian. He felt the urge to laugh, but he also felt pity for the man.

“Dig deep into anybody’s life, and it is misery all the way down. What can we do about it? We struggle, but without ever getting to know why the hell we struggle so much. Something is pressing down on our hearts, doesn’t even let us laugh. We are in agony because we don’t know how to escape that. The more we desire to be aloof and happy, the more we seem to get mired in this muck and keep sinking . . . ,” said Khader.

“Annachi, you might disagree with me here, but this is what I have arrived at. People keep saying that the Tirukkural says this, the Gita says that, that the answer is in the Bible, that there’s nothing to beat the Koran . . . But none of it is of any use for people like us. Nothing but pain from the moment we are born. Nothing but struggle. Every single day is a torment . . .”