New Delhi.

May 15^th 1.00 pm.

Saket .

“Mom! I finally got that job at the new ‘Dhamaal News channel-the channel with a difference'!”

I could feel the smile of pride in my mom's voice on the other side of the phone line, as she said, “Bless you child, congratulations! Come home fast and tell me the details. I must say the name of this news channel sounds a bit weird to me! But anyway, you are happy na?  I’ll cook you favorite dish for dinner after I visit the temple!”

“Temple? Oh, now how much did you bribe God for this job of mine, you know I hate bribes?”

“Bribe! No, Nikki! Don’t you dare call my offerings and prayers a bribe! You naughty girl!”

“Sorry Mom! Listen, I’m going directly with the camera team to cover my first breakthrough story, then I will come back home – I’m so excited!”

“Wow, so soon! What’s this story about?” asked mom.

“Well, I’m yet to find out. Right now I am going to the venue in Chandni Chowk! See you in the evening mom, bye!”

I hung up the phone and tried to hail an empty auto, which seemed to be moving in slow motion, as if it too was drained out by the intense Delhi summers.

The auto didn't stop and neither did the next three autos. I stood under a tree’s shade, trying to save myself from the direct heat of the ruthless Sun at two pm of this hot summer May afternoon. Reporting was definitely not a cushy AC room job, but I was so excited that nothing seemed to matter!

Finally I got an auto and reached my destination. I had to meet the cameraman at the meeting point who would lead me to my boss, Mr Vikram, at the venue.

As I stepped on the dusty streets of Purani dilli, with the aroma of ghee laden parathas and fragrance of mogras and paan, I knew today would be a turning point for me!

2.30 pm.

Chandni Chowk

My phone beeped .

Vikram sir’s message!

Nikki, reach lane no 51, behind Natraj chaat waala. Meet Rajiv.

Mmm, the name of the chaat waala made me lick my lips, but I knew that my chaat adventures would have to wait as right now I had to don my ‘reporter’ avatar and capture this ‘Breaking News’ in my words.

Full of energy, I braved the 48 degrees sun, hiding behind my shades and layering myself with an overdose of sunscreen.

 I crossed a construction site where the labor, donned in cotton dhoti’s were picking up cement sacks on their back. Oh God, it seemed so torturous! In this scorching heat it seemed like a punishment. Then I saw a glimpse of something that shocked me! A small boy of eight/nine years old was being whipped by a burly man and given a sack of cement to hold.  The boy was wiping his tears, but somehow managed to pick it up and move towards the building being constructed.

I saw more small boys sitting under a shady tree and the man moving towards them, shouting at them to get up and work.

“Oh my God! This is child abuse! Child labour! We must cover this news! It’s a sting operation Rajiv!”  I turned to the official channel photographer Rajiv, who had met me near the chaat walla a few minutes back.

“Rajiv, this builder is a famous guy; see how they are abusing children. Let’s cover this news!”

“Hey, Miss Nikki. Slow down. Chill! Relax. It's your first day. We are not like the other TV channels. We are from the new Dhamaal channel and boss has called us for today’s 'Breaking News'. Now don’t waste time, as we cover only weird news and not these normal stories. Public wants wacky stuff not boring news like this. Now follow me, he is waiting!”

Hmm. I quietly followed him. But something didn’t feel right.

3.00 pm

Chandni Chowk.

House no 420, Champak Lal

There seemed to be a big crowd gathered near a corner house in Lane no 51. The walls were painted red, making it noticeable from a distance. The wall was half-broken and children were peeping inside. Cows were lazing in the summer sun outside, near piles of garbage. There was a Tulsi gamla on the edge of the wall, typical to every Hindu house. Washed linen was hanging on drooping ropes, which seemed tired of bearing burdens of this poor family. Unwashed utensils stared boldly at the people outside from the verandah with a no-care attitude. Today, the whole Chandni chowk seemed to have gathered at this house.

I rushed through the crowd without any problem as my press name tag and earphones made me look like a reporter. Also seeing Rajiv with his big camera and tripod, the crowd made way for us on their own.

“Yes Boss, I am here! What’s the story?”

“Sit down, Nikki. The story is right in front of you! On this table.” Mr Vikram said in a soft tone.

The crowd of onlookers was gathered in the living room. There was no place left for any more people. I felt suffocated.

I sat down on the sofa and looked at the table he was pointing at.

There it was. Finally.

A red juicy apple on a white plate, with one of its faces shaped like a Ganesha head with a trunk!

I rubbed my eyes and blinked ten times! Was this for real! A freak of nature! A miracle?

“Have you ever seen anything like this Nikki? What a ‘Breaking News’ this is! Something worth making noise about! So obviously our Dhamaal channel has to show it as today’s prime news!”

“But sir, this is it? This is the news…I mean…,” I objected. It didn’t seem like news to show on a TV channel and that too prime time!

“No arguments Nikki. You don’t know how much excitement this will generate! This is the best ‘Breaking News’! I have called different Heads who will be interested in the panel discussion on our channel tonight - the Head of Genetic department of  Delhi’s top medical college, Head of Botany department, Head of Geology and many more! They are all so interested to study this apple to try and trace its source- which sabzi mandi this came from, which truck got this carton of apples, which tree has this come for and then study the soil, the climate and many more things! So much to do Nikki!”

He took a deep breath. I could hear his heart beating as fast as a fuelled-up super fast train!

“Nikki, Art school professors are coming to do live sketching of this! Poets are coming to be inspired to write poetry about this! Pundit's are coming to get idols made like this for the temples! Oh God, you don’t know what this is!”

I was dumbfounded! All this for an apple that mildly resembled Ganesha’s face? Didn’t we have more news to report? What was happening! Is this what my career is going to be from now on?

“That’s not all Nikki,” he whispered further, “the police department is giving special security to this family so that this apple doesn’t get stolen! Refrigerator companies are ready to pay lot of money to us for rights to shoot this apple for their advertisements. Three companies have already sent them new fridges to preserve this apple! Chef’s from famous restaurants are coming to be inspired for special dishes! Oh people will pay lot of money for a slice of this apple Nikki; you don’t know what a gold mine we have stuck!”

I was still speechless and couldn’t believe what I was hearing! So this will be my first assignment. Interview of this family of Champak Lal!

3.15 pm

I switched on my recorder and cleared my throat.

Mrs. Champak Lal was dressed in a bright red saree, which seemed to have been pulled out right from her wedding album, and smiled showing her yellowing teeth through dark red lipstick.

Her two children huddled with her on the sofa. Restless and playful, her younger son Raju, who seemed to be four years old, kept jumping on and off from the sofa, playing with a ball.

He kept on pulling Mrs. Champak Lal’s saree constantly, trying to attract her attention.

“Mumma, food!” he said.

Apparently the family had been very busy with the discovery of this Ganesha apple in their fruit shopping today and nobody had got time to cook any food or give anything to the small hungry kid.

“Arey, Sssh...Interview hai, quiet,” she said, scolding him to go inside.

He kept making faces and refused to go. He kept playing with his apple and ball on the floor, angry his mom wasn’t paying him attention.

“Mrs. Champak Lal, so let me ask you your first question. Where did you buy this, umm…Ganesha Apple?” I began the interview. Everyone was focusing on us.

“Oh Madamji, you won’t believe it. Today for the first time I went to the next lane to buy vegetables and fruit. And my younger son Raju, the one playing on the floor, picked up this apple and put in my basket. I didn’t even pay for it!” She laughed.

Her laughter added on to the uncomfortable feeling I was already feeling about taking this weird interview for this weird ‘Breaking News’.

I looked for Vikram sir, but he had gone outside, taking calls from those many heads of departments for the prime time panel discussion.

“Mrs. Champak Lal, what would you do if someone wants to buy this apple from you?” was my next question.

“Buy from me? Oh people are offering thousands, but no way we are going to sell this apple. It is the most precious apple for us, it is Lord Ganesha! Lakhs won't tempt us, crores…hmm, maybe….” She seemed to be lost in the thoughts of those crores!

“But aren't you wondering how it tastes?”  I asked, curious.

“Arey, its God's avtaar, how does it matter what it tastes like!”

“Mamma I will check how it tastes!” Raju's voice resonated in the room.

Suddenly there was silence as everyone turned their eyes to Raju, holding the Ganesha apple in his hands, standing at the corner of the room.

Before anyone could say anything he took a big bite of the apple, exactly from the area where it looked like Ganesha's trunk!

“Mmmm…yummy!” He said taking another bite.

“Noooooo! No Raju, what have you done!” Mrs. Champak Lal ran and tried to pull the apple away from Raju's hand, but it was too late. She started beating her forehead repeatedly with her hands in vain.

All was lost.

The lakhs, the crores…the ‘Breaking News’!

Rajiv entered the room.

“Hey, why is everyone going out, what happened? Nikki, what’s going on?”

I stood up.

“Boss, turns out the apple story wasn't very sweet after all.” I said pointing at Raju, who was sitting on the floor with his mom, eating the apple with full enthusiasm, the sweet juices dripping from his mouth.

Rajiv looked tensed for a minute and then smiled!

“Well, well, all in a day's work girl, this is life,” he said, indicating the cameraman to pick up his apparatus and move out. Soon, the room was empty and so was the slot in our prime time.

We walked out silently from the house number 420, with the red, broken wall hiding away broken hopes of the Champak Lal family.

“Hmm, we have to search for the 9 am news Miss Nikita,” said my boss grimly.

“Sir, I have some real news in mind sir, the one that won't create ‘Dhamaal’ or won't be funny or wacky news, but its real news boss. Real news, which will create a difference. So, are you game?”

Vikram sir gave me a strange look. I guess he was surprised how I had the confidence to suggest something I felt strongly about on my very first day!

He smiled and nodded and followed me as I led them to the construction site with the abused child labour….

Today I was going to make a ‘Dhamaal’, a real difference.

All wasn't lost after all!

***