By Neel Anil Panicker
The phone beeped.
With Harsh in the room, and on leave for the next two days, I knew I couldn’t just pick up the phone and say to forget it.
It beeped again.
Harsh said: “Looks like someone’s very desperate.”
He had seen me on the phone arguing the other day.
What’s the matter” he’d asked.
Someone wants to sell his car, I’d answered, slyly.
He had seen me flipping through car mags of late.
Careful, he’d said. Check mileage and pick up, he added.
I knew what both meant.
“I will”, I said, and walked out, the phone in my hand.
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