WAVES OF TRANSPARENCY

Sreekumar K

Even when they were about to break up for lunch, the discussion which had started in the wee hours of the morning was yet to reach anywhere. Several questions were yet to be answered and many bottlenecks had bobbed up.

Sitting in the Philomithian Society's inner chamber at the Pennsylvania University, every one of the small ten-member group, sweated it out in the inadequate chill from the air conditioner.

Six years and three months ago, they were all put to this task by a consortium called the Babel Project, referred to in academic rumours as the second attempt of man to reach God. That was the caption when it was made a cover story by the Times who heard about it only a month ago. Such was the clandestine nature of the project. Thirteen anonymous billionaires had set it up making themselves almost bankrupt. Thus it was a do or die situation for them all.

Walking towards the dining hall, observing the cliques which the group divided itself into, Patricia Grace felt ashamed of her research findings which had gained her so much respect in the academic circles. They were all very childish though the top-level academicians had called them a revolutionary step in the pursuit of organizational behaviour. To her, it sounded like a teenage girl's love note.

Not so bad, she corrected herself when she thought how it helped her set up her own business in the fashion industry and earn the name of a billionaire and upstart. All startups were called upstarts once, she consoled herself. Still, she doubted whether it was a good choice to grab the package of money, hatred and jealousy, all in one.

A nuclear family of three fissioned into three, long bouts of depression also came with it. Now, an even more fatal and secret position of being one of the billionaires in this project. If this project succeeded, she hoped, it would give her life, at least posthumously. Fame is welcome, no matter when it comes, what it brings or what it takes away.

Societies do not follow the dictates of nature or nurture. Their rules are even beyond the whims and fancies of the most discerning, she brooded. It is impossible to set line and length for human relations. Even such a small group of ten was now in three different cliques. She was left alone. She found it hard to find what held those cliques together.

Possible for God to have a hand in human affairs. She heaved a sigh as she walked into the dining hall.

(To be continued)