SOUTH DELHI------------------------

SOUTH DELHI

---------------------------



'Yes or no?' clenching his fist tight, Jalal asked with a firm voice. The man standing on the other side of the huge glass table was too nervous to sum up a befitting reply. He doesn't know... what best possible words he could utter to pacify an almost 'ready to erupt' Jalaluddin Mohammad. Gathering all he had in store, Amir manages to begin something...'Sir... I tried... I tried to...' But before he could finish, Jalal cuts into... this time on a much higher pitch. 'Answer me in one word u idiot... yes or no?' Amir didn't have the guts to continue his effort to put forward some kind of justification to the whole fiasco. So he decided to come up with the exact one this time. 'No sir', he replied.



That was enough for Jalal...enough to shoot his rage to the roof. But somehow he manages to control his outburst this time. 'You are fired'. Saying this in a cold but absolute tone, Jalal turns around. He knows... if he keeps on looking at this loser's face any more, things are bound to break the barrier. But Jalal's final words snatched the earth beneath Amir, making his whole world hanging in uncertainty. He decided to make a last effort... 'Sir I tried my best, but at the last moment...'



'Are you trying to give me an explanation by any chance?' Jalal fumes as he turns around to face him once again, with raging fire in his eyes. 'Are you?' this time he banged on the table with his both fist making the entire desk tremble. 'If I have to bear you for another second in front of me Amir, trust me u will regret this all your life... out now'. Saying this Jalal turns around once again.



Amir knew it was the end of road for him. If there's any force on earth that can alter Jalaluddin Mohammad's words that is Jalaluddin himself. He dragged his dejected body towards the exit. Just then the door of the cabin swings open, Abdul enters. 'Good by sir', utters Amir and move out of the room. Sensing something went terribly wrong, Abdul hurried to Jalal, who is stills standing near the glass wall, facing the city skyline ... both of his fist hidden in the side pockets of his trouser. His exclusive bottega veneta tuxedo has found its fate on the floor. His fuming muscles are replicating his inner fire. 'What is it Jalal? What's wrong?' asked a worried Abdul.



'A whole month of planning ... pani ki tarah paisa bahao and what you get at the end of it... no sir, I tried my best sir... my foot!!! jee toh chahta hain jaan lelu saleka ... bloody ass****'. Jalal burst out in front of Abdul. Words came to halt but Jalal is still fuming with immense rage. And why not!!! Nothing pisses off Jalaluddin Mohammad more than the taste of defeat... even mere thought of his desire going for somebody else's pleasure, pushes him to the edge. 'I am vying for this company since last month, how can it lands at somebody else's hand?' Jalal pulls of his already loosen slick tie and throws it on the floor. Abdul knew his friend very well... he knew ... yeh tufaan tab tak nehi rukega, jab tak he can't get hold of what he desire.



'You relax... Let me take care of this.' Saying this Abdul take out his phone and dials a number. 'Mr. Mehta I have an amazing offer for you...arre auction me kya rakhha hai... kitna bidding mila aapko? ... bas!!! We will get you a double.'



Jalal couldn't hold a smirk. This act of Abdul pulled down the mercury level, both inside the cabin and inside Jalal's head. Jalal walks up to his chair and finally rests his body to relax. Within a few minute Abdul came back to Jalal...a victorious smile adored his face. 'Chalo... Mr. Mehta is ready to reconsider his previous deal... he took the bait... you will get what you want Jalal...so no more gussa ... no more shouting...and aapna mood thik kar...we are leaving for New York within a couple of hours...and that's much more important than this good for nothing company...' saying this Abdul turned to leave. Hey...Abdul', Jalal yells with a wink, thanks yaar'.



'Apne paas rakh', faking an attitude Abdul exits, leaving a much relaxed and amused Jalal behind. Jalal leaned back on his chair to relax his much strained nerves for a couple of minutes. Silence descends inside the exquisitely luxurious cabin on the top floor of IMPERIAL TOWER.



There are very few in this world, who is allowed to yell back at Jalaluddin Mohammad. The first and foremost of them is obviously Abdul. He is the one Jalal can TRUST...he is the one Jalal can look up to in his difficult times. He knows what Jalal is...he knows what Jalal can be. Jalal can brush aside his own thoughts...but Abdul's...never.



Releasing a deep breath Jalal looks at his Rolex submariners... Its 15 past 12 now... Time to get back to the hotel...time to get some food...for mind and for body as well...' Jalal smirks to himself and starts walking towards the door.



'I hope Sharif has made the arrangements already.' Jalal murmurs in mind as he glides through the door of his Mercedes GL class. That's the fourth SUV in his motorcade of total seven. Rest of them is to accommodate his specially trained security men. Since his accident these security stuff has become a part of his life... just like his ROLEX submariners. The only exception...they never amuse Jalal like the later.



It was about 1 o'clock at night. Jalal's convoy speeds through the gate of IMPERIAL REGENCY. That's one of a chain of hotels, Jalal have in almost every prominent city around the world. Sharif was waiting at the entrance with the manager. Welcome sir' bows the manager with the hope of getting a glance from Jalaluddin Mohammad. But hardly paying any attention to the stand bys, Jalal march across the lobby...towards the lift...exclusively preserved for him. Lift took him and Sharif to the 78th floor of the hotel. This entire floor Jalal has kept for him. Whenever he comes to Delhi, he stays here... best place to unleash his dark desires without getting noticed by those million eyes vying 24/7 for any news...any scoop about the Chairman of IMPERIAL group and the present MUGHAL king. (Just to clarify this: MUGHALs don't rule anything now. It's more of a status presently. They are into business, but their huge ancestral fortune makes them superrich.)



'She is waiting for you in your bedroom sir', Sharif waves his finger towards the direction and awaits next order. 'Ok. You can leave now. But make my cars stand by... I will leave within a couple of hours', having said that Jalal moves forward to his room.



'Sharif has got a good taste' Jalal utters in his mind while checking out the girl from top to bottom...rolling his eyes on her almost bare legs and her sexy curves. 'Can you get me a drink?' Jalal asked the girl. Ya sure.' The girl walks up to the bar eagerly... fool enough to think Jalaluddin Mohammad wishes to drink from her hand. Sensing her think-line Jalal smirked to himself. If she had a chance to please the KING before, she would have known ... this is the only line he spends on the girl, he spends night with...



Jalal has already gulped down three glasses ... the girl is still going on and on and on... about her family, friends, what she do, what she don't...blah blah blah. He had no interest in her bio. He was eager to finish off the purpose for which he came here. Jalal was growing impatient every moment. After covering her personal details, the girl has now entered her profession. That knocked the limit for Jalal. 'Enough' he told to himself... Jalal held her hand and pulled her to him. She landed on Jalal with almost a thud. He held her bare waist and pulled her down with him on bed... she was trying to utter something but Jalal shut her up by smashing his lips on her's... Jalaluddin Mohammad doesn't believe in being hungry when the food has already been served. Within a few seconds their cloths were on floor... Jalal was inside her...ruling her body at his will.



This is a part his life now. His frustration, his anger, his anguish, his pain...all finds a way out through s*x.. Every night, a new one. There no love...no passion...no affection...just raw' pleasure...perhaps there's another reason which Jalal was very much aware of, but he never let that come out of the closet. It was hidden deep inside him...he never let anyone come any close to this secret of his. He can't afford to. How can he let the world know that this mighty lion had once fallen for his prey? How can he let the world know that Jalaluddin Mohammad couldn't get hold of the one, he marked as his own. How can he let the world know that he is still craving for that touch... still craving to be in those arms again...craving to mark her once again. Her eyes...her lips...her fragrance...her silky smooth skin...Jalal can still relive the passion he felt when he ruled her. It's been years now...but the memory of that night is sill alive in his mind. All these years he has been looking for a soul ... for a body that would extinguish the fire that's consuming him to the core...but the more he fails, the more it drives his crave for her.



It's 5 past 3 now. Jalal slips into his black tuxedo jacket with contrast shiny lapel...fastens the tie. Water drops still oozing out of his wet hair...a shower at night always subdues his boiling emotions. Jalal took some money out of his wallet and place them on table for the girl. Just then Jalal's phone rang into life. 'Yes Abdul' he received, Yes am ready. Wait for me in the car.'



Within a couple of minute Jalal was in his SUV. Convoy left for airport where his personal jet would be waiting to take its master abroad. 'Abdul, you have gone through the clauses minutely na?' asked Jalal.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

SOUTH DELHI--------------------------- 'Ya atau tidak?' mengepalkan tinjunya ketat, Jalal bertanya dengan suara tegas. Laki-laki yang berdiri di sisi lain dari tabel kaca besar adalah terlalu gugup untuk meringkas balasan yang sesuai. Dia tidak tahu... kata-kata mungkin apa terbaik dia bisa mengucapkan untuk menenangkan hampir 'siap untuk meletus' Jalaluddin Mohammad. Mengumpulkan semua dia telah di toko, Amir yang berhasil untuk memulai sesuatu...'Sir... Saya mencoba... Aku mencoba...' Tapi sebelum ia bisa menyelesaikan, Jalal memotong ke dalam... ini waktu pada nada tinggi banyak. ' Jawaban saya dalam satu kata u idiot... ya atau tidak?' Amir tidak punya nyali untuk melanjutkan usahanya untuk mengedepankan semacam pembenaran untuk seluruh kegagalan. Jadi dia memutuskan untuk datang dengan tepat sama ini waktu. 'Tidak, sir', dia menjawab. Itu cukup untuk Jalal... cukup untuk menembak kemarahannya ke atap. Tapi entah bagaimana ia berhasil mengendalikan ledakan nya kali ini. 'Anda dipecat'. Mengatakan ini dengan nada dingin tapi mutlak, Jalal berbalik. Dia tahu... jika dia terus memandang wajah pecundang ini hal-hal lain, terikat untuk break the barrier. Tapi kata-kata terakhir Jalal's menyambar bumi di bawah Amir, membuat seluruh dunia tergantung di ketidakpastian. Dia memutuskan untuk membuat usaha terakhir... 'Sir saya mencoba saya terbaik, tapi pada saat terakhir...' 'Apakah Anda mencoba untuk memberikan penjelasan saya kebetulan?' Jalal asap karena ia berbalik menghadapi dia sekali lagi, dengan mengamuk api di matanya. 'Apakah Anda?' kali ini ia menggedor di atas meja dengan tinjunya kedua yang membuat gemetar seluruh meja. 'Jika aku harus menanggung Anda untuk kedua lain di depan saya Amir, percayalah Anda akan menyesal ini semua hidup Anda... keluar sekarang'. Mengatakan Jalal ini berbalik sekali lagi. Amir tahu itu adalah ujung jalan baginya. Jika ada ada kekuatan di bumi yang dapat mengubah kata-kata Jalaluddin Mohammad itulah Jalaluddin dirinya. Dia menyeret tubuhnya disedihkan menuju pintu keluar. Hanya kemudian terbuka ayunan pintu kabin, Abdul memasuki. 'Baik oleh sir', mengucapkan Amir dan bergerak keluar dari ruangan. Penginderaan sesuatu pergi sangat salah, Abdul bergegas ke Jalal, iaitu stills berdiri di dekat dinding kaca, menghadap cakrawala kota... kedua tinjunya tersembunyi di kantong samping dari celana nya. Nya eksklusif bottega veneta tuksedo telah menemukan nasib di lantai. Ototnya fuming meniru api batin-nya. ' Apa Jalal? Apa salah?' meminta Abdul khawatir. ' Satu bulan dari perencanaan... pani ki tarah paisa bahao dan apa yang Anda Dapatkan pada akhir itu... tidak, sir, aku mencoba sir saya terbaik... kaki saya! produksi toh chahta hain jaan lelu saleka... berdarah pantat ***'. Meledak di depan Abdul Jalal. Kata-kata datang untuk menghentikan tapi Jalal masih kemarahan dengan kemarahan besar. Dan mengapa tidak! Tidak bikin off Jalaluddin Mohammad lebih dari rasa kekalahan... bahkan hanya memikirkan keinginannya untuk menyenangkan orang lain, mendorong dia ke tepi. 'Saya 'm berlomba-lomba untuk perusahaan ini sejak bulan lalu, bagaimana bisa mendarat di tangan orang lain?' Jalal menarik nya sudah melonggarkan dasi licin dan melemparkan di lantai. Abdul tahu temannya sangat baik... dia tahu... yeh tufaan tab tak nehi rukega, jab tak ia tidak bisa mendapatkan apa yang dia inginkan. ' Anda bersantai... Biarkan aku mengurus ini.' Mengatakan ini mengambil Abdul keluar telepon dan memanggil nomor. ' Mr Mehta aku telah menakjubkan menawarkan untuk Anda... arre lelang saya kya rakhha hai... kitna Penawaran mila aapko? ... bas!!! Kita akan mendapatkan ganda.' Jalal couldn't hold a smirk. This act of Abdul pulled down the mercury level, both inside the cabin and inside Jalal's head. Jalal walks up to his chair and finally rests his body to relax. Within a few minute Abdul came back to Jalal...a victorious smile adored his face. 'Chalo... Mr. Mehta is ready to reconsider his previous deal... he took the bait... you will get what you want Jalal...so no more gussa ... no more shouting...and aapna mood thik kar...we are leaving for New York within a couple of hours...and that's much more important than this good for nothing company...' saying this Abdul turned to leave. Hey...Abdul', Jalal yells with a wink, thanks yaar'. 'Apne paas rakh', faking an attitude Abdul exits, leaving a much relaxed and amused Jalal behind. Jalal leaned back on his chair to relax his much strained nerves for a couple of minutes. Silence descends inside the exquisitely luxurious cabin on the top floor of IMPERIAL TOWER. There are very few in this world, who is allowed to yell back at Jalaluddin Mohammad. The first and foremost of them is obviously Abdul. He is the one Jalal can TRUST...he is the one Jalal can look up to in his difficult times. He knows what Jalal is...he knows what Jalal can be. Jalal can brush aside his own thoughts...but Abdul's...never. Releasing a deep breath Jalal looks at his Rolex submariners... Its 15 past 12 now... Time to get back to the hotel...time to get some food...for mind and for body as well...' Jalal smirks to himself and starts walking towards the door. 'I hope Sharif has made the arrangements already.' Jalal murmurs in mind as he glides through the door of his Mercedes GL class. That's the fourth SUV in his motorcade of total seven. Rest of them is to accommodate his specially trained security men. Since his accident these security stuff has become a part of his life... just like his ROLEX submariners. The only exception...they never amuse Jalal like the later. It was about 1 o'clock at night. Jalal's convoy speeds through the gate of IMPERIAL REGENCY. That's one of a chain of hotels, Jalal have in almost every prominent city around the world. Sharif was waiting at the entrance with the manager. Welcome sir' bows the manager with the hope of getting a glance from Jalaluddin Mohammad. But hardly paying any attention to the stand bys, Jalal march across the lobby...towards the lift...exclusively preserved for him. Lift took him and Sharif to the 78th floor of the hotel. This entire floor Jalal has kept for him. Whenever he comes to Delhi, he stays here... best place to unleash his dark desires without getting noticed by those million eyes vying 24/7 for any news...any scoop about the Chairman of IMPERIAL group and the present MUGHAL king. (Just to clarify this: MUGHALs don't rule anything now. It's more of a status presently. They are into business, but their huge ancestral fortune makes them superrich.) 'She is waiting for you in your bedroom sir', Sharif waves his finger towards the direction and awaits next order. 'Ok. You can leave now. But make my cars stand by... I will leave within a couple of hours', having said that Jalal moves forward to his room. 'Sharif has got a good taste' Jalal utters in his mind while checking out the girl from top to bottom...rolling his eyes on her almost bare legs and her sexy curves. 'Can you get me a drink?' Jalal asked the girl. Ya sure.' The girl walks up to the bar eagerly... fool enough to think Jalaluddin Mohammad wishes to drink from her hand. Sensing her think-line Jalal smirked to himself. If she had a chance to please the KING before, she would have known ... this is the only line he spends on the girl, he spends night with... Jalal has already gulped down three glasses ... the girl is still going on and on and on... about her family, friends, what she do, what she don't...blah blah blah. He had no interest in her bio. He was eager to finish off the purpose for which he came here. Jalal was growing impatient every moment. After covering her personal details, the girl has now entered her profession. That knocked the limit for Jalal. 'Enough' he told to himself... Jalal held her hand and pulled her to him. She landed on Jalal with almost a thud. He held her bare waist and pulled her down with him on bed... she was trying to utter something but Jalal shut her up by smashing his lips on her's... Jalaluddin Mohammad doesn't believe in being hungry when the food has already been served. Within a few seconds their cloths were on floor... Jalal was inside her...ruling her body at his will. This is a part his life now. His frustration, his anger, his anguish, his pain...all finds a way out through s*x.. Every night, a new one. There no love...no passion...no affection...just raw' pleasure...perhaps there's another reason which Jalal was very much aware of, but he never let that come out of the closet. It was hidden deep inside him...he never let anyone come any close to this secret of his. He can't afford to. How can he let the world know that this mighty lion had once fallen for his prey? How can he let the world know that Jalaluddin Mohammad couldn't get hold of the one, he marked as his own. How can he let the world know that he is still craving for that touch... still craving to be in those arms again...craving to mark her once again. Her eyes...her lips...her fragrance...her silky smooth skin...Jalal can still relive the passion he felt when he ruled her. It's been years now...but the memory of that night is sill alive in his mind. All these years he has been looking for a soul ... for a body that would extinguish the fire that's consuming him to the core...but the more he fails, the more it drives his crave for her. It's 5 past 3 now. Jalal slips into his black tuxedo jacket with contrast shiny lapel...fastens the tie. Water drops still oozing out of his wet hair...a shower at night always subdues his boiling emotions. Jalal took some money out of his wallet and place them on table for the girl. Just then Jalal's phone rang into life. 'Yes Abdul' he received, Yes am ready. Wait for me in the car.' Within a couple of minute Jalal was in his SUV. Convoy left for airport where his personal jet would be waiting to take its master abroad. 'Abdul, you have gone through the clauses minutely na?' asked Jalal.