5– Roots

11 YEARS LATER

Arjun

When I heard a siren behind me, I quickly darted at the dashboard. I was going 160 miles.

“Ahg...” I groaned. “These bloody number plates have really made me a target.”

The lady next to me, whose name I had already forgotten, quickly looked back and then placed a palm on my right hand that was holding a bottle of whisky. She looked concerned but didn't say anything.

I looked at the flashing blue lights in my rearview mirror and then pulled into the yellow lane and stopped.

She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't have the confidence to.

“What?” I asked her.

“Uh...” She chuckled nervously. “Shouldn't we hide the alcohol?”

“Put it in the back then.” I passed her the bottle. She rushed to take it from me, causing some to spill on her white shirt and my hand.

“Relax!” I told her and then sucked my teeth.

“Sorry.” She grimaced and then put it on the floor of the backseat. She opened her purse, took out a tissue and wiped my hand.

I looked at my pants to check if any had spilt on it. She too looked while still patting my hand dry.

“Enough.” I told her, shrugging my hand away.

“Sorry.” 

So petty...

The traffic officer knocked on my window. I quickly stopped the music and lowered the window.

“Good evening, officer.” I looked up at him with a smile.

He shone a torch in my face and then torched the passenger. “Good evening, sir. Are you aware that you are driving over the speed limit?”

“Was I?” I pretended to be surprised. I then looked over at the lady. “It didn't feel like we were driving over the speed limit, did it?”

She smiled brightly, her dark red lipstick making her teeth appear even whiter. She then shook her head. “No, not at all.”

I looked at the officer, hoping that our act had managed to convince him.

“Have you been drinking, sir?”

I shook my head. “Do I look drunk?”

“Can you answer the question?”

I scoffed. Did this guy not recognize me? But still, I decided to answer. “No.”

“No you can't answer the question or no you're not drunk.”

“I am not drunk.”

“Licence and registration please.”

“Of course.” I said, passing him my license. That's all he needs. Once he sees who I am, he will apologize for stopping me and give me a free pass. These stops always either went one way or another. Either they pulled me over because of my number plates and got a couple of hundreds out of me or they immediately recognized me after pulling me over or asking for my ID and then let me go.

Holding my ID up, he looked from it to me a couple of times as if the picture wasn't clear enough.

“Do you even need to look that hard? My face appears on TV almost every week.”

“Mr Arjun Korana, can you please step out of the vehicle?”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. This man was starting to irritate me.

“I would like to perform a drunk test on you because the car reeks of alcohol.”

I was going to explode but I figured he must be pretending to follow protocol because of the girl next to me.

“Look, you don't have to worry about her. You know who I am. Let's skip to the chase, how much?” I asked, opening my wallet and waiting.

“Excuse me sir?”

“How much? Come on, my lady and I have somewhere to be.”

I had picked her up from the club. As soon as she recognized me, she wouldn't leave my side and made me buy her a drink. One drink turned into two and then two turned into a couple more. Next thing we were leaving with a bottle of whisky.

“Are you bribing me?”

“You ask too many questions.” I shook my head in exasperation. “I don't know, you tell me. Am I?”

“Alright, step out of the car sir.”

“What? You don't want money?” I couldn't hide my frustration anymore. “Then what do you want? Huh? Make it quick so that we can go.”

“Get out of the car now!” He ordered.

Upset, I quickly opened my door, and he moved away just in time to not be hit by the door. “I don't get it, what's your—”

“Alright, you're under arrest—”

“Don't touch me!” I shrugged my hand away as he tried to grab it.

I don't even know how it happened, but I found myself flat on the tarmac with the officer holding my hands behind my back. It must have been his knee holding me down or something, but it hurt.

“What are you doing?” I was trying to fight him off, but I couldn't move. He then applied hand cuffs on me.

“You are under arrest for attempting to bribe an officer of the law, for driving under the influence and for assault—”

“Assault?”

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law...”

...

“Arjun Korana!”

I was woken by a police officer yelling my name. I looked at my watch, it was 9 in the morning. I sat up on the seat and rubbed my eyes. Just then I felt a major headache that made me hold my head for a while.

“You've been made bail.” The police officer on the other side of the bars told me.

“Finally.” I said getting up. “Can't believe I really spent the night in a jail cell...”

My eyes met with another man sitting opposite me. He was shaking his head disapprovingly at me.

I threw him a look as I walked past. How did I expect some nobody to respect me if I was downgraded to his level by spending the night in the same cell as him and all these other weird people?

The policeman opened the gate and let me through.

“You immigrants are really taking our country for a ride.” The man said just as the police shut the gate behind me.

“What did you say?” I turned back, placing my hands on the jail bars.

“You heard me!”

“Ignore him, boss.” The police told me. “He doesn't know who you are.”

“Clearly.” I said, following the policeman.

“Uh... since you're here in person...” The police officer chuckled nervously. “Uh... aren't you hiring at the moment?” He asked, which immediately made me lose interest. “My daughter just graduated in IT and is—”

“Father...” I stopped in my tracks when I saw him waiting in the hallway.

He handed me a newspaper. “Congratulations, you made the front page this morning.”

I held the newspaper in both hands, reading the headlines: KORANA ENTERPRISES BOSS TRIES TO BRIBE OFFICER AND GETS ARRESTED

“Ooh...” The officer grimaced after seeing the headline. He then looked up at me and immediately looked sorry. “I mean... sorry.”

Father turned away, leaving me there and walked out of the station.

I guess bailing me out and then delivering me this newspaper was just so he could prove a point.

After getting my things, I stepped out of the police station and was greeted by the sun. I placed a hand to my forehead to shield my face. There was a bin on the side, so I chucked the newspaper away. I was about to turn my phone on but heard an abrupt hoot.

I looked across the street and saw my driver waiting in the car. Father was in the backseat. I would have gotten into the front seat just to be far from him, but that would be too obvious, so I got in next to him.

“Hey, don't ever hoot for me again.” I told Steve, my driver. “Next time you do that, you're fired. You hear me?”

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“Just drive.” Father told him and then turned to me. “That newspaper is what you should be concerned about. Not being honked at.”

I groaned. “We're rich, father, this is what they do to rich people; try to make us look bad. I don't care about that.”

“Oh you don't?” He looked flabbergasted. “You don't care about the company?”

“Not the company...”

“Oh, okay, because that's all our family has, in case you're forgetting. That's our heritage that you're burning to the ground.”

I let out a heavy sigh. I just wanted my bed right now. Father always exaggerated everything. One arrest and I am burning the company down?

“Did you speak to Artha? Good Hope pulled out this morning after seeing the video of you being thrown to the ground like a piece of trash.”

“What?” I was utterly disappointed. “I spent a month trying to get him to sign that contract and he just pulled out? Over a stupid video? People get pulled over by traffic officers all the time.”

“'People'?” Father looked at me like he was disgusted. “You're not ‘people’, you are the bloody CEO of KE. And you were not simply pulled over, you were hauled to the ground, like you were just some guy off the streets. You know what they charged you with?”

He gave me half a second to answer and then continued. “Drunk driving, attempting to bribe an officer, resisting arrest and assault.”

“Wow...” I laughed out of surprise. “He really charged me for assault, I didn't even touch him.”

“You pushed your door at him—”

“It didn't touch him.”

“Because he backed away.”

“I was just opening the door. How else was I supposed to get out of the car?” I explained. “He asked me to get out of the car, so I got out.”

“You have an excuse for everything. Always making up reasons to justify your wrongful actions.”

I looked out of the window. My side was the last place father would ever choose anyway, even if the entire world was wrong.

“When does it end, Arjun?”

Well, clearly this conversation was not about to end anytime soon.

“You're approaching 30—”

“I am turning 28.”

“But you behave like you're turning 8.”

I raised my eyebrows at his remark but chose silence.

“It's like you're aging backwards.” He added. “Even your little sister has started behaving like your elder.”

I took my phone out of my pocket and switched it on.

“There you go, pressing your phone while I am talking to you.” He complained. “Sometimes I regret moving here, it has changed you so much. You've forgotten morals and values. It's like you act out of instincts, like an animal. I doubt you think before doing things.”

Notifications came flooding in after my phone went on. Artha had sent me a dozen messages and a video. I opened it and saw the famous video of me holding my wallet out and then getting upset that the officer did not know who I was.

“It's the girl I was with.” I said.

“What?”

“She took this video. The angle it was taken...” I placed my phone facing down and cussed inwardly. “Bloody gold digger.”

“What do you expect, if every weekend it's a different girl you're with?” He asked me. “Don't you know that all they want to do is suck you dry? Take anything they can from you? They don't care about your reputation or the company.”

“I know.”

“Oh, you do?” He sounded sarcastic. “Doesn't seem like it. Every week it's the same thing. You start the drinking as soon as you get home from work every Friday, then you spend Saturday mornings almost unconscious, trying to recover from Friday night's drinking, then when the effects wear off by evening, you go partying like some maniac and I have to see pictures and videos of you at clubs.

“Is this how you're going to continue living?”

At least I don't smoke...

“You need to get married. That's the only thing that will fix you up.”

“I am not ready for that.”

“You don't need to be ready. If we were in India, we were going to marry you off as soon as you finished high school.”

I laughed softly to myself, the last thing I needed was to add fuel to this fire.

“12 year olds get married in India, you're 28, much older.”

I smiled at him. “This is America, father.”

“That way of speaking is what has you doing all these things you do. We are in America, but we are not Americans. Don't forget that. We have our own culture.”

I thought he was going to continue giving me a mouth full, but he went silent. When I looked over, he seemed distracted by his phone.

I smiled, shaking my head. Old head... always complaining that I get too distracted by my phone but here he is.

I couldn't pass up this opportunity to make fun of him.

“The phone cult has you too?” I laughed.

He looked at me above his glasses and then went back to his phone. “I am talking to your aunties in India to find you a girl.”

“Are you serious?” I laughed, this time not even hiding it. “You have jokes...”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “Does it look like I am joking?”

He didn't.

“I will not stand by and watch my only son turn into a disgrace. I will get you a good Indian girl with strong cultural values who can make you settle down.”

I frowned, my smile fading. “I am not going to marry those village girls. If you want me to marry someone then fine, give me time and I will bring you someone.”

He shook his head. “I am not giving you any time. All this stops today. Look, they are already sending me pictures.”

“Oh my god...”

“I want you married before the next weekend.”

“That's 6 days only. There's no way that's gonna happen.” I spoke. “I still need to get to know whoever it will be.”

“You seem to be forgetting your roots. There's nothing to ‘get to know’. If your aunties pick her, she will be the best for you.”

“How do you know that? What if her family only wants me for my money?”

“What we should worry about is getting her to marry you before she actually finds out the type of person you are. No one would want to marry their daughter to you if they know the type of lifestyle you lead.”

“No one would reject me, it would be the other way around.”

Father didn't answer, just gave me a look and continued searching.

This was insane, but if it meant keeping father off my back for good, then sure.