Ratan is a reporter in The Daily Times, not exactly one of the most read papers in town. And he was not exactly one of its best reporters, either.

But Ratan thought he was the best, not just in The Daily Times, but in the town as well. He would daily boast to his wife that he was always the first to scoop every news, always on the know about every little thing that happened in the town, and about who came or who left.

But his wife Ruchi didn?t hear them much. She was sick of her loneliness. Ratan would normally leave the house by 9 in the morning, and by 9.30, their only daughter, Rini, would leave for school, too.

After that, the rest of the day Ruchi would pass in household chores, dusting and cleaning the same things again and again. It was always very late in the night that Ratan came home, sometimes even well past midnight. By then Ruchi was fast asleep. So was their daughter.

Ratan was almost like a stranger to them, whom they barely had a glimpse of on most days. He said he was busy preparing for the coming elections.

One Saturday evening Ratan returned home in a good mood, and more importantly, returned early.

?Ruchi, tomorrow I will take you and Rini to the zoo,? he said, smiling, drawing Rini close to him, affectionately.

Both Rini and Ruchi looked at him with amazement, but with delight.

?Of course, and we will take our lunch with us,? Ruchi said.

Rini just couldn?t stop dancing and was on the phone for hours after that, telling her friends about the proposed picnic to the zoo.

Before going to sleep that night, Ruchi arranged for everything they would need the next day. After months, the family enjoyed a quiet evening by themselves, chatting and laughing like normal families do.

They all got up early, and started putting the things they would need into baskets. Ruchi packed in the food and the napkins and the water, while Ratan checked if the petrol in the car was full.

It was. In fact, everything was in order. They were just about to leave when the phone rang. Ruchi looked at it most disapprovingly. ?Ratan speaking,? her husband said, as he picked up the line, in his usual pompous voice.

?Sir, there?s an urgent message for you. The chief minister has summoned a hasty news conference at his residence at 9 am today,? said the speaker at the other end.

?Who speaks?? Ratan asked, as if he were the president or something.

?I am his personal secretary, sir,?the speaker said.

?But wasn?t the minister supposed to go to Delhi?? he asked.

?Sir, it?s about some urgent matter, about which I can?t talk now. Please be there,? he said, and disconnected the line.

It was about 8 am. Ratan quickly calculated the time it would take him to reach the minister?s house. He rushed to collect his things. His writing pad, his pen and his calculator, which he always carried, for some vague reason, though he hardly ever needed it. Ruchi and Rini looked at him, desperately pleading with him by their silence, not to break off their plans. ?After all, you are on a holiday, and if the minister was in town, you would have known,? Ruchi pleaded. ?Yes, daddy, you always know everything as you say,? Rini whined, most tearfully.

But he wasn?t even listening, and worse, was not even stopping to think for a second.

He rushed to his car and sped off to the minister?s residence. In the parlour there were two other reporters waiting, from other papers. But other than them, there was nobody. The receptionist accorded them the usual welcome and asked what brought them there so early in the morning.

Surprised by the question, they were wondering what to say, when they were startled by the sound of a car leaving from the portico. ?That?s the minister leaving. You must be knowing he was supposed to leave for Delhi today,? she said.

?Of course, we knew, but we got a call from here,? they said, almost together. Ratan was fuming with anger. Not only was his day spoiled, he had made a fool of himself by running here without waiting to confirm things.

His wife would have the last laugh. So would his little daughter. So would his colleagues, who would no doubt come to hear of it.

He was determined to get to the bottom of it. ?Madam,? he began, in his typical pompous voice, ?We were told to come here. What happened.? He sounded much too demanding for the receptionist?s liking.

?News conference? Today? There have been no such plans at all,? she said. ?Very strange, indeed,? he muttered, strutting frantically across the room. As he did so, he stopped suddenly to stare at a man changing the pages of a calender.

He, the biggest news scooper in town, was staring at a calender page which said in bold red ?April 1.