25-10-2025, 12:48 AM
The Tharki Transaction
Scene 1: The Offer in the Quiet Hallway
The community hall was quiet after the evening’s celebration. Most people had gone home, but Jagat Singh, an old rich man, stayed back. He looked at Shanti as she packed her things. Walking slowly, he came closer and gave her a small nod. Shanti, who had noticed him watching her all evening, gave him a polite but careful smile. Shanti, aware of his gaze throughout the evening, met him with a polite, albeit cautious, smile.
Jagat Singh: * (His voice raspy, but with an underlying weight of authority) * Mrs. Kaur, a moment of your time, if you please.
Mrs. Kaur, zara ek pal mil sakta hai?
Shanti: * (Her smile tightening slightly, sensing the shift in atmosphere) * Ji, Seth Jagat Singh Ji. How can I help you?
Ji, Seth Jagat Singh Ji. Main aapki kya madad kar sakti hoon?
Jagat Singh: * (His gaze, though old, was direct, momentarily resting on the curve of her kurta before rising to her eyes) * You are a… magnificent woman, Shanti. Truly.
Aap ek… kamaal ki aurat hain, Shanti. Sach mein.
Shanti: * (A blush crept up her neck, a mix of discomfort and a strange, unbidden flattery) * Thank you, Seth Ji. That’s… kind of you to say.
Dhanyavaad, Seth Ji. Yeh… aapki meherbani hai.
Jagat Singh: Kind, perhaps. But honest, certainly. I am an old man, Shanti. A very lonely old man. My children… they have their own lives. They have my money, but not my time.
Meherbani, shayad. Par sach, zaroor. Main ek boorha aadmi hoon, Shanti. Ek bahut akela boorha aadmi. Mere bachche… unki apni zindagi hai. Unke paas mera paisa hai, par mera waqt nahin.
Shanti: * (Feeling a pang of unexpected pity, yet wary) * I'm sorry to hear that, Seth Ji.
Yeh sunkar afsos hua, Seth Ji.
Jagat Singh: Don't be. Pity is for the weak. I am not weak, Shanti. I am simply… empty. And I have observed you tonight. Your grace. Your… presence. It is undeniable.
Mat ho. Taras kamzoron ke liye hota hai. Main kamzor nahin hoon, Shanti. Main bas… khaali hoon. Aur maine aaj raat aapko dekha hai. Aapki adaa. Aapki… maujoodgi. Yeh behtar hai.
Shanti: * (Her heart began to beat a little faster. The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.) *
_ (Uska dil thoda tez dhadakne laga. Baatcheet ek anokhi mod le rahi thi.) _
Jagat Singh: I have an offer for you, Shanti. A proposition, if you will. One that could change your life. And mine.
Mere paas aapke liye ek peshkash hai, Shanti. Ek prastaav, agar aap kahin. Jo aapki zindagi badal sakta hai. Aur meri bhi.
Shanti: * (Her gaze locked with his, a mixture of apprehension and a nascent curiosity.) * An offer?
Ek peshkash?
Jagat Singh: * (He reached into his inner jacket pocket, producing a neatly folded, thick envelope. He held it out to her, not forcing it, but extending it as an undeniable option.) * Inside this… is a contract. A proposal, in writing. For one year. One year of your company, your warmth, your… undivided attention in my Haveli.
_ (Usne apni andar ki jacket ki jeb mein haath daala, ek safai se moda hua, mota lifafa nikala. Usne use uski taraf badhaya, zabardasti nahin, balki ek anivarya vikalp ke roop mein. ) _ Iske andar… ek contract hai. Ek prastaav, likhit mein. Ek saal ke liye. Ek saal aapki sahayata, aapki garmahat, mera… mere haveli mein aapka poora dhyaan.
Shanti: * (Her breath hitched. She looked at the envelope, then back at his ancient, discerning eyes.) * My… company?
Meri… sahayata?
Jagat Singh: * (A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper.) * Yes, Shanti. Your company. Your comfort. And yes… your intimacy. Everything an old man like me, with everything else money can buy, now craves more than anything.
Haan, Shanti. Aapki sahayata. Aapka aaraam. Aur haan… aapki nikatata. Har woh cheez jo mujh jaise boorhe aadmi ko, jiske paas paisa khareed sakta hai, ab sabse zyada chahiye.
Jagat Singh: In return, upon completion of this one year… ten crores. Tax-free. A clean transaction. Think on it.
Badle mein, is ek saal ke poora hone par… das crore. Tax-free. Ek saaf sauda. Sochna is par.
He pressed the envelope gently into her hand. It felt substantial, almost heavy with its implied promise. Shanti’s fingers trembled slightly as they closed around it, her eyes wide, scanning the grand, emptying hall around them, feeling suddenly very small, and yet, incredibly significant.
Image
Scene 1: The Offer in the Quiet Hallway
The community hall was quiet after the evening’s celebration. Most people had gone home, but Jagat Singh, an old rich man, stayed back. He looked at Shanti as she packed her things. Walking slowly, he came closer and gave her a small nod. Shanti, who had noticed him watching her all evening, gave him a polite but careful smile. Shanti, aware of his gaze throughout the evening, met him with a polite, albeit cautious, smile.
Jagat Singh: * (His voice raspy, but with an underlying weight of authority) * Mrs. Kaur, a moment of your time, if you please.
Mrs. Kaur, zara ek pal mil sakta hai?
Shanti: * (Her smile tightening slightly, sensing the shift in atmosphere) * Ji, Seth Jagat Singh Ji. How can I help you?
Ji, Seth Jagat Singh Ji. Main aapki kya madad kar sakti hoon?
Jagat Singh: * (His gaze, though old, was direct, momentarily resting on the curve of her kurta before rising to her eyes) * You are a… magnificent woman, Shanti. Truly.
Aap ek… kamaal ki aurat hain, Shanti. Sach mein.
Shanti: * (A blush crept up her neck, a mix of discomfort and a strange, unbidden flattery) * Thank you, Seth Ji. That’s… kind of you to say.
Dhanyavaad, Seth Ji. Yeh… aapki meherbani hai.
Jagat Singh: Kind, perhaps. But honest, certainly. I am an old man, Shanti. A very lonely old man. My children… they have their own lives. They have my money, but not my time.
Meherbani, shayad. Par sach, zaroor. Main ek boorha aadmi hoon, Shanti. Ek bahut akela boorha aadmi. Mere bachche… unki apni zindagi hai. Unke paas mera paisa hai, par mera waqt nahin.
Shanti: * (Feeling a pang of unexpected pity, yet wary) * I'm sorry to hear that, Seth Ji.
Yeh sunkar afsos hua, Seth Ji.
Jagat Singh: Don't be. Pity is for the weak. I am not weak, Shanti. I am simply… empty. And I have observed you tonight. Your grace. Your… presence. It is undeniable.
Mat ho. Taras kamzoron ke liye hota hai. Main kamzor nahin hoon, Shanti. Main bas… khaali hoon. Aur maine aaj raat aapko dekha hai. Aapki adaa. Aapki… maujoodgi. Yeh behtar hai.
Shanti: * (Her heart began to beat a little faster. The conversation was taking an unexpected turn.) *
_ (Uska dil thoda tez dhadakne laga. Baatcheet ek anokhi mod le rahi thi.) _
Jagat Singh: I have an offer for you, Shanti. A proposition, if you will. One that could change your life. And mine.
Mere paas aapke liye ek peshkash hai, Shanti. Ek prastaav, agar aap kahin. Jo aapki zindagi badal sakta hai. Aur meri bhi.
Shanti: * (Her gaze locked with his, a mixture of apprehension and a nascent curiosity.) * An offer?
Ek peshkash?
Jagat Singh: * (He reached into his inner jacket pocket, producing a neatly folded, thick envelope. He held it out to her, not forcing it, but extending it as an undeniable option.) * Inside this… is a contract. A proposal, in writing. For one year. One year of your company, your warmth, your… undivided attention in my Haveli.
_ (Usne apni andar ki jacket ki jeb mein haath daala, ek safai se moda hua, mota lifafa nikala. Usne use uski taraf badhaya, zabardasti nahin, balki ek anivarya vikalp ke roop mein. ) _ Iske andar… ek contract hai. Ek prastaav, likhit mein. Ek saal ke liye. Ek saal aapki sahayata, aapki garmahat, mera… mere haveli mein aapka poora dhyaan.
Shanti: * (Her breath hitched. She looked at the envelope, then back at his ancient, discerning eyes.) * My… company?
Meri… sahayata?
Jagat Singh: * (A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper.) * Yes, Shanti. Your company. Your comfort. And yes… your intimacy. Everything an old man like me, with everything else money can buy, now craves more than anything.
Haan, Shanti. Aapki sahayata. Aapka aaraam. Aur haan… aapki nikatata. Har woh cheez jo mujh jaise boorhe aadmi ko, jiske paas paisa khareed sakta hai, ab sabse zyada chahiye.
Jagat Singh: In return, upon completion of this one year… ten crores. Tax-free. A clean transaction. Think on it.
Badle mein, is ek saal ke poora hone par… das crore. Tax-free. Ek saaf sauda. Sochna is par.
He pressed the envelope gently into her hand. It felt substantial, almost heavy with its implied promise. Shanti’s fingers trembled slightly as they closed around it, her eyes wide, scanning the grand, emptying hall around them, feeling suddenly very small, and yet, incredibly significant.
Image


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