06-07-2025, 11:24 AM
To everyone messaging me about North Politics:
Please stop sending messages asking about North Politics. These messages have led me to stop writing the story.
If the story caused you any inconvenience, I sincerely apologize.
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The next morning, Sonali sat at the small desk by the window, her eyes fixed on the screen of her laptop as she typed through emails. The soft clatter of footsteps behind her made her glance up for a moment.
"Madam..." Rekha said softly.
"Yes, Rekha?" Sonali replied without looking up, still scrolling through her inbox.
Rekha hesitated a little. "Did you check with Jay sir about a job for my husband?"
Sonali stopped typing and turned to look at her. "Oh, Rekha, I’m so sorry. I haven’t had the chance yet. Things have been a little busy lately," she said gently. "But please give me a few more days. I promise I’ll speak to him."
She paused, then added, “Actually, tomorrow there’s a media conference at the main house. It’s being organized by Jay’s office for the upcoming Bhadur Nagar development project. I’ve been invited to present, but I haven’t decided if I’m going yet. If I do, I’ll try to speak with his head of department. He’s a kind and understanding gentleman.”
Rekha’s face lit up with hope. "Thank you, madam. Life is getting really hard with just my salary. My son is studying well, and I want to give him a better future."
Sonali smiled warmly. “What grade is he in now?”
“Grade 5, madam,” Rekha said proudly.
“Oh, that’s a big boy already,” Sonali said with a soft laugh. “Before you leave today, remind me—I have something for him.”
“Thank you so much, madam,” Rekha said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Please do talk to Jay sir. And if possible, speak to his department head too. I feel like if my husband starts working, maybe… maybe his drinking will stop or at least get better.”
Sonali nodded, her expression serious now. “I understand, Rekha. I’ll speak with Jay tonight. And if I go to the conference tomorrow, I’ll definitely bring it up with his boss too.”
“Thank you again, madam. You’re always so kind,” Rekha said, bowing slightly.
Sonali gave her a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. Let’s try to make something happen."
Sonali sat by the window, thinking of the conference and presenting and chewing her lip. Tomorrow’s media conference still felt like a stone in her shoe. All of Jay’s office crowd would be there—along with the builders and contractors who followed every job like stray dogs after a garbage truck.
She pictured those men and felt a tight knot in her stomach. Most of them were local contractors and builders—not hardworking professionals, but uneducated and clever in a sly way. They dressed carelessly, spoke loudly, and always acted like they knew everything. They bragged about their so-called “big deals” and talked about money like it was the only thing that mattered. They had no manners, no respect, and always looked at people like they were trying to figure out what they could gain. Sonali didn’t trust them. To her, they were the kind of men who could smile in front of you and cheat you behind your back. Sonali doubted half of them had even finished Grade 10. When a woman walked by, they let their eyes linger far too long, as if respect was a word they had never learned.
How can I stand on a stage and speak in front of that lot? she thought. They’ll stare, they’ll whisper, they’ll sneer. Yet another voice inside her answered, Rekha needs help—and Jay asked so sweetly.
Sonali sat quietly, thinking deeply. In her heart, she was caught between two promises—one to Rekha, and the other to Jay.
Rekha had asked her for help finding a job for her husband. And Jay, in his soft and honest way, had asked her to be the presenter at the conference. He was already tired and stressed with work, and Sonali didn’t want to trouble him with something extra. That’s why she hadn’t brought up Rekha’s request yet.
But it wasn’t just that.
Sonali didn’t trust Rekha’s husband. He was one of those rough, careless men from the slum—always drunk, always loud. If Jay helped him get a job in the department and something went wrong… like stealing or getting caught in some illegal mess, it would all fall back on Jay. His name, his job, his peace—it could all be at risk.
Still, every time Sonali looked into Rekha’s tired eyes, she found it hard to say no. She had already delayed giving an answer once. She didn’t want to hurt her again.
Sonali sighed. Her heart felt heavy. She wanted to do the right thing—but the right thing wasn’t so easy to find.
She knew how his colleagues treated him. Jay was gentle, almost shy, and hated arguments. Some staff called him “coward Jay” behind his back.
onali still remembered that evening clearly.
It was a farewell party for one of the senior officers in Jay’s department. The event was held in a small hall, decorated with simple lights and flower garlands.
Jay had brought her along for the first time. He looked a bit nervous, but he introduced her politely to a few of his coworkers who were in the same grade as him.
Sonali smiled warmly and greeted them with confidence. After a short chat, she walked over to the other side of the hall where a few of the officers’ wives were sitting and chatting with some drinks in their hands.
Just as she was stepping away, she heard something—quiet, but sharp.
One officer leaned in and whispered to another, “So this is the reason coward Jay never brings his wife to parties.”
The other officers burst into quiet laughter, covering their mouths, pretending to hide it.
Sonali’s heart sank for a moment. She didn’t turn around. She kept walking, holding her head high, but deep inside, it stung. They didn’t know how kind Jay really was. They only saw his quiet nature and made fun of it.
That memory stayed with her. And now, thinking about the media conference, it gave her one more reason to say yes.
Maybe it was time they saw the real Jay—through her.
Tomorrow’s conference could change that. If she walked to the podium—strong voice, steady eyes—those same men would see Jay in a new light: not a timid officer, but a man with a smart, confident wife who believed in him. And after her speech, she could pull Mr. Thakur—or Mr. Ravi if the change came sooner—aside and speak for Rekha. Two birds, one stone.
Sonali closed her laptop and exhaled. I don’t trust those builders, she admitted to herself. But I trust Jay. And he trusts me.
With that, she made her choice. Tomorrow she would stand on that stage—not for the builders, not even for the project, but for Jay, for Rekha, and for the quiet pride she carried inside.
Sonali took a deep breath and whispered to herself, “Okay, Sonali… you’re going to the event. You’ll help Rekha, and you’ll protect your loving Jay’s pride.” A small smile appeared on her face. The decision was made.
A few minutes later, she picked up her handbag and got ready to go to the beauty parlour—a place she visited every two weeks, no matter how busy life got. Looking neat and perfect was never a choice for Sonali—it was part of who she was. She always kept herself well-groomed, carried herself with elegance, and followed a routine that most women in Jadpredesh had never even heard of.
Her body stayed in perfect shape thanks to a mix of clean eating and regular yoga. Even though it was hard to find organic food in this dusky little town, she did her best. Most people here didn’t even know what “organic” meant. So she often reminded Rekha to buy vegetables from sellers she personally trusted—just to keep some level of quality in their diets.
Sonali never touched soft drinks, liquor, or fast food. Her meals were usually light and healthy—vegetable soups, fresh salads, egg omelets, grilled chicken or fish, and fruit juices she made herself. And no matter how busy her day was, she always made time for her 20-minute yoga session. Every three days, she even danced at home—something that helped her stay fit and feel alive.
Cleanliness and self-care were more than just habits for Sonali—they were part of her identity, something she carried with quiet pride. Back in Mumbai, her glowing skin, smooth grooming, and soft elegance were normal. Women there shared the same routines, the same love for beauty and balance. But here in Jadpredesh, it was different. Life moved slower. The women here were kind, but most didn’t think about such things. They were busy with homes, children, and daily struggles.
Sonali never judged them. But without meaning to, she stood out—like a delicate lotus blooming in the middle of a muddy pond.
Sonali always paid close attention to her hygiene, and regular shaving was one of her key self-care routines. Because of this, her armpits remained milky white and perfectly clean—something rarely seen in a town like Jadpredesh. Since moving here, she had almost completely stopped wearing sleeveless tops and had never worn knee-length skirts. She knew that if she ever stepped out in such clothes, people in this uneducated, remote area would be shocked by the glow of her skin and the fresh, flawless look she carried without effort.
Her glowing skin, polished look, and fresh floral perfume—soft notes of strawberry mixed with rose—were completely unknown in this town.
Please stop sending messages asking about North Politics. These messages have led me to stop writing the story.
If the story caused you any inconvenience, I sincerely apologize.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next morning, Sonali sat at the small desk by the window, her eyes fixed on the screen of her laptop as she typed through emails. The soft clatter of footsteps behind her made her glance up for a moment.
"Madam..." Rekha said softly.
"Yes, Rekha?" Sonali replied without looking up, still scrolling through her inbox.
Rekha hesitated a little. "Did you check with Jay sir about a job for my husband?"
Sonali stopped typing and turned to look at her. "Oh, Rekha, I’m so sorry. I haven’t had the chance yet. Things have been a little busy lately," she said gently. "But please give me a few more days. I promise I’ll speak to him."
She paused, then added, “Actually, tomorrow there’s a media conference at the main house. It’s being organized by Jay’s office for the upcoming Bhadur Nagar development project. I’ve been invited to present, but I haven’t decided if I’m going yet. If I do, I’ll try to speak with his head of department. He’s a kind and understanding gentleman.”
Rekha’s face lit up with hope. "Thank you, madam. Life is getting really hard with just my salary. My son is studying well, and I want to give him a better future."
Sonali smiled warmly. “What grade is he in now?”
“Grade 5, madam,” Rekha said proudly.
“Oh, that’s a big boy already,” Sonali said with a soft laugh. “Before you leave today, remind me—I have something for him.”
“Thank you so much, madam,” Rekha said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Please do talk to Jay sir. And if possible, speak to his department head too. I feel like if my husband starts working, maybe… maybe his drinking will stop or at least get better.”
Sonali nodded, her expression serious now. “I understand, Rekha. I’ll speak with Jay tonight. And if I go to the conference tomorrow, I’ll definitely bring it up with his boss too.”
“Thank you again, madam. You’re always so kind,” Rekha said, bowing slightly.
Sonali gave her a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. Let’s try to make something happen."
Sonali sat by the window, thinking of the conference and presenting and chewing her lip. Tomorrow’s media conference still felt like a stone in her shoe. All of Jay’s office crowd would be there—along with the builders and contractors who followed every job like stray dogs after a garbage truck.
She pictured those men and felt a tight knot in her stomach. Most of them were local contractors and builders—not hardworking professionals, but uneducated and clever in a sly way. They dressed carelessly, spoke loudly, and always acted like they knew everything. They bragged about their so-called “big deals” and talked about money like it was the only thing that mattered. They had no manners, no respect, and always looked at people like they were trying to figure out what they could gain. Sonali didn’t trust them. To her, they were the kind of men who could smile in front of you and cheat you behind your back. Sonali doubted half of them had even finished Grade 10. When a woman walked by, they let their eyes linger far too long, as if respect was a word they had never learned.
How can I stand on a stage and speak in front of that lot? she thought. They’ll stare, they’ll whisper, they’ll sneer. Yet another voice inside her answered, Rekha needs help—and Jay asked so sweetly.
Sonali sat quietly, thinking deeply. In her heart, she was caught between two promises—one to Rekha, and the other to Jay.
Rekha had asked her for help finding a job for her husband. And Jay, in his soft and honest way, had asked her to be the presenter at the conference. He was already tired and stressed with work, and Sonali didn’t want to trouble him with something extra. That’s why she hadn’t brought up Rekha’s request yet.
But it wasn’t just that.
Sonali didn’t trust Rekha’s husband. He was one of those rough, careless men from the slum—always drunk, always loud. If Jay helped him get a job in the department and something went wrong… like stealing or getting caught in some illegal mess, it would all fall back on Jay. His name, his job, his peace—it could all be at risk.
Still, every time Sonali looked into Rekha’s tired eyes, she found it hard to say no. She had already delayed giving an answer once. She didn’t want to hurt her again.
Sonali sighed. Her heart felt heavy. She wanted to do the right thing—but the right thing wasn’t so easy to find.
She knew how his colleagues treated him. Jay was gentle, almost shy, and hated arguments. Some staff called him “coward Jay” behind his back.
onali still remembered that evening clearly.
It was a farewell party for one of the senior officers in Jay’s department. The event was held in a small hall, decorated with simple lights and flower garlands.
Jay had brought her along for the first time. He looked a bit nervous, but he introduced her politely to a few of his coworkers who were in the same grade as him.
Sonali smiled warmly and greeted them with confidence. After a short chat, she walked over to the other side of the hall where a few of the officers’ wives were sitting and chatting with some drinks in their hands.
Just as she was stepping away, she heard something—quiet, but sharp.
One officer leaned in and whispered to another, “So this is the reason coward Jay never brings his wife to parties.”
The other officers burst into quiet laughter, covering their mouths, pretending to hide it.
Sonali’s heart sank for a moment. She didn’t turn around. She kept walking, holding her head high, but deep inside, it stung. They didn’t know how kind Jay really was. They only saw his quiet nature and made fun of it.
That memory stayed with her. And now, thinking about the media conference, it gave her one more reason to say yes.
Maybe it was time they saw the real Jay—through her.
Tomorrow’s conference could change that. If she walked to the podium—strong voice, steady eyes—those same men would see Jay in a new light: not a timid officer, but a man with a smart, confident wife who believed in him. And after her speech, she could pull Mr. Thakur—or Mr. Ravi if the change came sooner—aside and speak for Rekha. Two birds, one stone.
Sonali closed her laptop and exhaled. I don’t trust those builders, she admitted to herself. But I trust Jay. And he trusts me.
With that, she made her choice. Tomorrow she would stand on that stage—not for the builders, not even for the project, but for Jay, for Rekha, and for the quiet pride she carried inside.
Sonali took a deep breath and whispered to herself, “Okay, Sonali… you’re going to the event. You’ll help Rekha, and you’ll protect your loving Jay’s pride.” A small smile appeared on her face. The decision was made.
A few minutes later, she picked up her handbag and got ready to go to the beauty parlour—a place she visited every two weeks, no matter how busy life got. Looking neat and perfect was never a choice for Sonali—it was part of who she was. She always kept herself well-groomed, carried herself with elegance, and followed a routine that most women in Jadpredesh had never even heard of.
Her body stayed in perfect shape thanks to a mix of clean eating and regular yoga. Even though it was hard to find organic food in this dusky little town, she did her best. Most people here didn’t even know what “organic” meant. So she often reminded Rekha to buy vegetables from sellers she personally trusted—just to keep some level of quality in their diets.
Sonali never touched soft drinks, liquor, or fast food. Her meals were usually light and healthy—vegetable soups, fresh salads, egg omelets, grilled chicken or fish, and fruit juices she made herself. And no matter how busy her day was, she always made time for her 20-minute yoga session. Every three days, she even danced at home—something that helped her stay fit and feel alive.
Cleanliness and self-care were more than just habits for Sonali—they were part of her identity, something she carried with quiet pride. Back in Mumbai, her glowing skin, smooth grooming, and soft elegance were normal. Women there shared the same routines, the same love for beauty and balance. But here in Jadpredesh, it was different. Life moved slower. The women here were kind, but most didn’t think about such things. They were busy with homes, children, and daily struggles.
Sonali never judged them. But without meaning to, she stood out—like a delicate lotus blooming in the middle of a muddy pond.
Sonali always paid close attention to her hygiene, and regular shaving was one of her key self-care routines. Because of this, her armpits remained milky white and perfectly clean—something rarely seen in a town like Jadpredesh. Since moving here, she had almost completely stopped wearing sleeveless tops and had never worn knee-length skirts. She knew that if she ever stepped out in such clothes, people in this uneducated, remote area would be shocked by the glow of her skin and the fresh, flawless look she carried without effort.
Her glowing skin, polished look, and fresh floral perfume—soft notes of strawberry mixed with rose—were completely unknown in this town.
The Author
North Politics (The game behind politics)
North Politics (The game behind politics)