‘Can’t be too difficult to guess that these two love each other,’ Rupali thought to herself and was about to say something to Paritosh, when he spoke, “What’s wrong with this chap? Some problem?”

“No. Why do you think so? He just cares for her. So–”

“No. Not that. He generally has something in his countenance that shows constant… anxiety, even fear.”

“You are talking like a psychic.”

Paritosh laughed slightly, “Sorry. I am unnecessarily alarming you with my speculations.”

“It didn’t look like you were merely speculating. What did you see?”

“Well – I am no professional psychiatrist. But I have read a lot on mental health issues. The way he was constantly twitching his car keys and those sudden, very slight shudders tells me that he might need some help. Perhaps something is bothering him.”

“I see. By the way, why don’t you pick up some food? Everyone has started eating.”

“Sure.”

—

Sunidhi was lying on her bed, but was unable to sleep. Last five or six months would have been as ordinary for her as any other. But for Aditya.

She thought of the time she had overheard the group of trainees talking in the canteen.

“She’s a total bomb, yaar. She looks all prim and proper in the office. But I am sure she is a bitch outside,” Feroz had said and Ankit had added some remarks to similar effect. The only woman trainee Amrita was on leave. So, the boys were at liberty to have their “boy talk” over lunch.  Sunidhi knew they were talking about her, but the male-dominated corporate world had hardened her. She didn’t care. She was about to leave when she had heard Ankit addressing Aditya, “Where are you going, Aditya? Not eating?”

“I have some work.”

“Work?” Ankit had laughed, “You can be truthful, mate. You don’t like anyone else talking about her.”

“I will be truthful. I don’t like anyone reducing anyone to a sexual object.”

“There goes Sunidhi’s blue-eyed-boy!” Feroz had said and he and Ankit had laughed.

“You are incorrigible,” Aditya had replied and gone away.

Sunidhi had found herself smiling at Aditya’s words, but had also worried about Feroz’s. What was it about “blue-eyed-boy”?

In their first year, management trainees worked across four different projects for three months each. As it happened, Aditya had been assigned for two consecutive trimesters under her.

“Since you have to do the next three months also with me, I was thinking we should put you on children’s products?” Sunidhi had told him.

“No. No. Please. Not the children’s products. Anything else! I don’t understand kids.”

“Well – I am afraid I have only two product lines where I can put you.  And I think you won’t want to go for women’s hygiene products. I was thinking of putting Amrita there.”

“Is there a policy that only women can work there?”

“No. No. Nothing like that,” Sunidhi had interrupted him quickly, “There is no policy like that at all. It is one of the most profitable and fastest growing product lines and most senior managers would clamor to have it under them. But we have seen reluctance in the recent graduates – men, of course. They seem hesitant and embarrassed.”

“I don’t feel that way. Is it okay if I work on… women’s hygiene products? I hope I don’t sound weird, but I don’t want to work on children’s product.”

“It’s perfectly fine. In fact, it shows that you are already professional and mature. I am sure Amrita will be happy that she isn’t getting gender stereotyped. She would like working on children’s products.”

“Thanks, Sunidhi.”

The way Aditya had hesitated before uttering “women’s hygiene products”, Sunidhi felt sure that he was as embarrassed about it as most fresh graduates were. But he seemed to have something stronger against children’s products.

Over time she had noticed that he had a dislike for kids. Perhaps it wasn’t even a dislike; he almost seemed scared around them. She remembered the CSR activity their group had participated in. They had gone to an orphanage. Apart from gifting them sweets, chocolates, clothes and study materials, they were also to spend half a day with the kids. Aditya had been aloof most of the time. Once she had coerced him into coming with her and play with the kids. As the team leader, she was supposed to involve everyone. She was playing with a toddler and in the process playfully patted him.

“What are you doing?” Aditya had practically jumped over her and dragged her away from the child.

“What happened, Aditya? What did I do?”

“Sorry. I mean… the child might be uncomfortable.”

“Come on, Aditya. I wasn’t hurting him. He was enjoying the little game. Calm down and come back.”

He had also curtly refused Amrita, who wanted his help in playing with a small girl who had tired her out by running around and whose energy levels were showing no signs of ebbing.

He had been silent on their way back. Once they were in the office, Sunidhi had asked him discreetly, “Why do you hate kids so much?”

“Just like you hate Mayonnaise!”

“That’s an odd comparison.”

“Whatever!” He had walked off.

But they had bonded over other things.

“Hey! You are reading Dalrymple,” she had found a book on his desk.

“Yeah. I like reading historical fiction as well non-fiction. And he researches so extensively for his books.”

“True. True. Even I like them. Have you read Cuckold by Nagarkar?”

“Not yet. But I intend to. I have heard about the book.”

“I found it really interesting.”

“Do you have a copy?”

“No. But you know what. I usually borrow books from a book club. It’s close to the office. You can also become a member. They also have these weekly book reading and discussion sessions on Saturday.”

“Do you go for those?”

“I used to go. But fell out of habit. I would definitely like to start again. At least on the weekends one should stay away from these sales charts and targets and growth.”

“I would like to come along if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Having company will motivate me to go regularly. Let’s start from tomorrow itself. I can also get Cuckold issued for you till you get your membership.”

“Sounds cool.”

—

“May I come in, Sir?” Rupali knocked at the open door of Paritosh’ office.

“Rupali. Come in. What’s up?”

She stood there, hesitating for a moment.

“Sit down. What is bothering you?” he asked.

“It’s a student.”

“What happened? You got a distress call again?” he asked with concern.

“No. It’s not about the counseling forum. This student in my class came to me after the mid-semester exam.  And…”

“And?”

“And he was going bonkers. He says he needs to pass the exam, else he would have no option but to commit suicide. I have seen his papers, he cannot pass. What do I do?”

“Who is he?”

Rupali hesitated in giving out the name.

“You can tell me,” he assured her.

“Mohit.”

“Mohit Mishra?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. So here is the rule of thumb. Those who do commit suicide are not the ones who talk about it.”

“But what if–”

“I know, Rupali. You are kind of shaken up after Rakesh’ attempt. But don’t be. In fact, it is likely that this guy is just trying to cash in on that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. And especially about this Mohit Mishra. He is too clever for his own good. And highly manipulative. I don’t know how they learn all of this at such young age. Don’t worry. And if he tries these tricks next time ask him to talk to the HOD. Okay?”

“Yes Sir,” Rupali finally seemed relaxed and smiled, “Thank you.”

—

To be continued