Vikram had been carrying the ghost on his shoulder for quite some time now. The shifting procedure was long over, but the ghost had not said a word.
Finally, Vikram lost patience.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you sitting there like a Left Front spokesperson? Nothing to say?”
“What do you expect me to say?” the ghost grumbled. “I’m frustrated. There’s no mobile connectivity here. I can’t even play a game. And the female ghost next door is always busy with facials and pedicures. I’m sitting here doing nothing. At this rate, I’m going to have an identity crisis.”
Vikram laughed.
“You’re a ghost. You don’t even exist. What identity crisis could you possibly have?”
“Don’t be stupid,” the ghost snapped. “A person’s past is his identity. In fact, the past is what gives identity to everything—from individuals to entire cultures.”
“A ghost with philosophy! Now that’s a dangerous combination,” Vikram said, laughing.
The ghost smiled too, but quickly changed the subject.
“Listen, get serious. My witch girlfriend says my trademark pose—head down, legs up—is becoming very popular these days. You came here last night. Why didn’t you bring a TV reporter along? At least he could have run a headline: ‘Ghost Performs Headstand for Centuries!’”
“You seem to be obsessed with television.”
“Of course I am. You know I once gave the industry a hit serial. And what have I got since? Not even a decent break. Do something for me.”
Vikram shrugged.
“Times have changed. The public wants real stories now. And these days, politicians are the real entertainment.”
“So what’s the latest trend on television?”
“Historical ghosts.”
“Since when?”
“Since the ghosts of Jodha and Akbar started having conversations from their respective graves.”
The ghost looked puzzled.
“But Jodha’s tomb is miles away from Akbar’s. I’ve actually walked that distance.”
“They probably shifted locations for the serial,” Vikram said casually. “You can’t question television history. Ekta’s version of history and the average celebrity’s political knowledge are both beyond scrutiny.”
The ghost looked impressed.
“But where do these people get so much information about ghosts?”
“There’s serious research going on,” Vikram explained. “Scriptwriters are apparently being sent to cremation grounds for crash courses. And these days, a crime anchor is considered successful if he looks as much like a ghost as possible.”
The ghost brightened up.
“So, is there any chance for me or my girlfriend to get a role?”
“Honestly, nobody is interested in exposing you.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You were going to say something else. Are you suggesting we expose my girlfriend?”
The ghost suddenly lost his temper.
“Have you no sense of decency? Even a witch has some dignity!”
“That’s exactly why I wasn’t suggesting it,” Vikram said quickly.
The ghost cooled down.
“So, what do we do now?”
Vikram smiled.
“Simple. Stay around politicians like us. They love carrying old scandals and dead cases with them. TV channels are always looking for something from the past. The moment one of them spots you, your career could be revived.”
The ghost thought about it for a moment.
“Not bad.”
“See? In today’s television industry, you don’t need to be alive to make a comeback. You just need a good past.”
“Okay,” the ghost said, taking off. “Today’s episode ends here. See you in the next one.”
The ghost disappeared into the night.
Vikram smiled and walked away.
After all, in the world of television, even ghosts need a career strategy.
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