"DIFFERENCE"

Sanjay Bhatt 

                           1

I was busy with a call from new delhi. While I was on the call, another call came through on my mobile phone. When I looked at my mobile phone, the number belonged to a Senior Odisha administrative officer, who was also my favorite fiction writer, "D D." I called him back after finishing my first call.

"DD" is an exceptional individual. Known for his integrity and honesty, he has always stayed away from bribery and corruption, which has cost him dearly throughout his life. Yet, his reputation remains untarnished.

Standing six feet tall with fair skin, "DD" looks strikingly handsome. Even at fifty-five, he can easily catch the eye of a twenty-five-year-old lady.

He's my favorite actor, fiction writer and tv news anchor, always seen with a smile and dressed immaculately. In the past, he has acted in many artistic films, achieving considerable success.

When "D.D" answered my call, his voice was warm. "Say 'Sonjoy,'" he began. I greeted him with a "Namaskar" and asked if I could ask him something. He chuckled and replied, "Yes, ask away!"

"Should I call you 'Sir' or 'Brother'?" I teased. Laughing, he said, "You're quite the trickster. I don’t believe in formal titles. Call me whatever you like." I then asked, "When can I meet you? Please , Bro..."

His response was open-hearted, "Come whenever you want. My office and my heart are both open to you." After some more light conversation, we ended the call. I felt deeply grateful and bowed my head in appreciation.

Another incident came to my mind.

                       2

R.D is an Odisha Administrative Service Officer by profession and a writer by nature. He is tall, healthy, with a smiling face, and looks attractive with his thick moustache.

My old relationship with him began when language became our medium of communication. While I was editing a literary magazine, he used to admire and respect me. I would print his writings in the magazine I edited. He seemed so simple then, to everyone.

After he moved from Bhubaneswar to another district with a promotion, our relationship almost fell apart. We only talked on the mobile phone occasionally.

Then, R.D got transferred back to Bhubaneswar with an even higher promotion. This new post was very important. I got this news from the newspaper and Teli Vision.

One day, my magazine editor and journalist friend, S.J., came to my office. While drinking coffee, he suddenly brought up R.D. "R.D is now in Bhubaneswar. He is the director of the "C" department of the government. How is your relationship with him? Let's interview him for our magazine. I have some work to do with him."

I'm a bit over-emotional, like milk boiling over from the stove, which gets me into trouble a lot of the time. I suddenly said, "R... brother is very close to me."

"Say, when will we go?" S.J expressed interest.

I put a call through to R.D. The phone rang and cut off; R.D did not pick up. I told S.J with a smile, "Perhaps he is busy now."

After some time, I got a call on my mobile phone from R.D. I picked up, "Hello brother, congratulations! Can I see you for a while? Can you give some time?"

R.D replied, "Come today after lunch at three o'clock."

I thanked him before he hung up the phone.

I told S.J, "He called us today at three o'clock. Shall we go?"

S.J agreed. We ordered lunch from the hotel near our office, ate together, and then headed to RD's government office in S.J's car.

At exactly three o'clock, we reached R.D's government office. There were relatively few people waiting to meet R.D. I wrote my name on a piece of paper and handed it to the peon, asking him to let R.D know that I had arrived. While I was sitting, my eyes fell on the nameplate on RD's door. It read, "R.D (I.A.S)." I thought to myself that R brother had become an I.A.S from an O.A.S.

About 35 minutes later, I got a call to go inside.

S.J and I entered. R.D was busy with his laptop. I greeted him with a namaskar. He raised his head, looked through the gap of his goggles , and said in a serious voice, "Hun...!. Sit down." We both sat in the chairs, and then S.J also greeted RD with a namaskar.

     R.D. looked at my friend S.J. with questioning eyes. Introducing them, I said, "This gentleman is my friend , His name is S.J.....! S.J. is the editor of Wave Magazine." At the mention of the magazine, R.D.'s face turned stoic.

"Oh, I see," he responded, his voice trailing off into silence. After a brief pause, R.D. returned to his laptop, then asked, "Are you here for work or just a visit?"

I was about to mention the interview when S.J. stopped me. "Just a visit," I assured R.D.

R.D., ever the clever one, cast a scrutinizing look at S.J. and asked, "Why not a printed magazine?"

S.J. replied, "Sir, due to the challenges of advertisement and distribution, I can't do it. Still, Wave Magazine has 20,000 subscribers worldwide."

Glancing at his watch, R.D. said, "Where will Sunjoy go now?"

Realizing it was time to leave, we stood up. Suddenly, S.J. asked, "Sir, can we take a selfie with you?"

R.D. agreed, and we stood on either side of him. I snapped the photo on my phone. As we were about to leave, R.D. called out, "Sunjoy."

Turning back, I saw R.D. with a finger in his ear. "What will you do with that photograph?" he asked.

"I'll post it on Facebook," I replied.

"Don’t put today’s date," he advised. "Say it's from five years ago. There are many jealous people out there."

Startled, I composed myself and agreed. As we sat in the car, I deleted the photograph. S.J. reassured me, "Don't worry about it. It wasn't him speaking; it was the IAS officer inside him."