Mr Sethi Again · The Salt Road · Pulse Beat
He came back on a Saturday, unannounced, with a lawyer. They sat on the porch, the family on one side and the two men in good shirts on the other, with a tray of tea between them like a demilitarised…
He came back on a Saturday, unannounced, with a lawyer.
They sat on the porch, the family on one side and the two men in good shirts on the other, with a tray of tea between them like a demilitarised zone. Mr Sethi, polite as ever, put his folder on the table. "I'm sorry to hurry things. The company is anxious. The offer, I am authorised to say, can be increased by fifteen percent."
"The land is not ours to sell," said Kavita.
A very small stillness. The lawyer glanced at his client.
"Excuse me?"
"The lease was Savita Rathod's. She is dead. The landlord's heirs are in Kenya. If your company has bought this from my father, it has bought nothing." She spoke evenly. "And if my family claims it by possession, which in this state requires twelve years, and my father has done fifty, the matter will be in court for a very long time."
Mr Sethi smiled, without humour. "You have been reading."
"I work in compliance," said Kavita. "I read for a living. And I would like to know why a company that has had lawyers for two years did not find this out."
His smile did not move. "Perhaps," he said, "because it was more convenient not to."