Mish' Fiction

Soumen looked elated to see her back. That relieved and scared her in equal measure. Did it mean that her job was safe? Or was she headed into some inappropriate, dangerous territory?

“You still look unwell,” Siddhartha commented when he ran into her in Mrinal’s office.

“I was saying the same thing,” Mrinal concurred with his boss.

“I’m fine, Sir,” she replied, “Looks take more time to improve than illness.”

“Take care!”

By late afternoon she felt her fever return. Thankfully, Soumen was not in the office. So, she sneaked out early only to run into Siddhartha.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

She flushed, “I wasn’t feeling well.”

He sighed and said, “Look Karishma. I appreciate your dedication to work. But it isn’t a crime to take a few days off to recover from an illness. Your job isn’t going anywhere.”

She flushed even more. Then she smiled nervously and thanked him.

—

“What was the need to rush off to the office when you were still unwell?”

Karishma saw concern in her mother’s question – a concern she was dying to see ever since she had come back to this house.

“I did think I was fine, Mummy. And I came back, didn’t I, when I realized that I wasn’t well?”

“Or you couldn’t stay away from that boss of yours, eh?”

So much for the concern! Karishma looked in the hall and satisfied herself that her daughter was busy playing by herself. Then she told her mother, “Please shut the door, Mummy. I need to sleep.”

She could shed a few silent tears in her bed.

But her mother didn’t leave her until she had shot another arrow, “How did it come to this? Since when did you become a woman for whom her home was not enough? Not her husband’s home? Not her child? Not her parents’ home? How come none of this is enough for you?”

Karishma pretended not to hear her and held her tears until the door was shut.

—

Soumen knocked at Siddhartha’s door after dinner.

“What’s up, Sonu?”

“Dada, are you never going to get married?”

“Why did you suddenly think of that today?”

“Well, I have been wondering about it for long, obviously–”

Siddhartha chuckled, “No. You haven’t been. Let me guess. Do you want to get married?”

“How on earth do you always know?”

Siddhartha started laughing seeing Soumen’s perplexed face.

“Well. You don’t have to wait for me. Your sister didn’t.”

“She is a girl. They can get married in childhood and nobody will blink an eye. Look at Karishma. Marriage, child, divorce – everything done!”

“Who is the girl?”

Soumen sat on a chair opposite Siddhartha nervously.

“Shivani?” Siddhartha prompted.

Soumen shook his head and said, “Please don’t laugh, and don’t get angry.”

“That sounds serious. Come on, now. Who is it?”

“Karishma!”

“What!” It had been easy to know what was on his kid brother’s mind. But even in his wildest dreams Siddhartha couldn’t have guessed who was on his mind. “Why?” he blurted, baffled.

“I like her. She is great.”

“Is it your way of ensuring that she stays your assistant for life? And does all your work?” he was now amused.

“Come on, Dada. Now you are making fun of me.”

“You are serious?”

“Yes.”

“And she has agreed?”

Soumen sank back on his chair, “I haven’t asked.”

“Then that would be the thing to do, won’t it?”

“Dada. I am really confused. And nervous. Should I ask? Would Baba be okay with it? Are you okay with it?”

“The only important question is – Sonu – are you okay with it? Have you really thought this through? She isn’t your type – so to say. She comes from a different world. She has been married, she has a daughter–”

“I know all that, of course.”

“It’s not a small matter.”

“But I want her.”

“If you are so sure, then ask.”

“Thank you, Dada. This is a relief.” He got up to leave, then suddenly hesitated, “But aren’t you ever going to get married?”

“Oh, come off it, Sonu,” he guffawed, “Take care of your life, that should be enough of a worry for you.”

But the smile disappeared from Siddhartha’s face once Soumen left. Karishma in this house as his brother’s wife! That was going to be difficult to put up with. It was bad enough that he had fallen for that chit of a girl who was nothing like them. Now Soumen? He himself wouldn’t act on his feelings. But Soumen would. And what reason did Siddhartha have to stop him?

—

That knock on his office door at seven in the morning annoyed Siddhartha. A couple of times a week, he would arrive in his office as early as five to be able to deal with some of his tasks in peace before meetings took over his life and day. Not many people knew about this practice of his and those who did knew not to disturb him. He ignored the knock. Then a slight screech told him that someone was tentatively pushing the door. He was forced to look up.

“Who the hell—” his words got stuck in his throat when he spotted Karishma’s frail figure behind the door.

“Come in,” he said, his voice now normal, almost soft!

She looked more flustered than she had looked in her first meeting with him. She came in blabbering apologies, “I am sorry. I know you are not to be disturbed now. But your calendar for the day was full. I had to talk to you immediately. Else it may have been too late–”

“Breathe, Karishma. Too late for what? What do you want to talk about?”

“Soumen!” she blurted, and then added as an afterthought, “And me.”

Siddhartha couldn’t help smiling. So, his brother had gone ahead with the proposal after all. But he pushed the responsibility of this conversation on Karishma. What for? Why did Soumen not inform him? And then it dawned on him that Karishma’s nervousness was not a happy one. She was agitated.

“What happened?” he asked, anxiety showing up on his face.

She started pacing the room. Then spoke in one breath, “Last night, out of the blue, he proposed to me. I need you to know that I have never tried to seduce him. I have just been trying to do my job all through. I really can’t afford to lose my job.”

From that Siddhartha could guess the answer, but he asked anyway, “So you refused him?”

“Of course. It was a ridiculous idea.”

“Why ridiculous?”

She started, “You don’t think it is ridiculous?”

Siddhartha paused for a moment before asking, “Did you refuse because you thought I would have objections?”

He noticed her hesitate. Finally, she spoke, “I would have thought of that, of course. Yours and his entire family’s–”

“If that was the case, you needn’t have refused. You can still set it right, I am sure–”

“You didn’t let me complete, Sir. I would have thought of your objections if it came to that. But it never did.”

They were distracted by a soft knock on the door. “Mommy,” a faint voice seemed to call.

“I am sorry. That’s my daughter. It was too early for her pre-school and day care wasn’t yet open–”

“You left her outside, alone? Bring her in.” Siddhartha frowned and Karishma complied immediately, partly relieved, partly worried.

The child looked confused inside the huge office, in front of a stranger. “Say hello,” Karishma nudged her.

“Hello,” she obliged.

“Well, hello,” Siddhartha grinned at her, “How are you doing today?”

“I am doing fine. Thank you,” Kirti replied with a clarity that seemed to take even Karishma by surprise. She still didn’t pronounce Soumen’s name correctly. And here she sounded like an adult. Siddhartha broke into a laughter.

“Very sweet. Why don’t you take a seat?” he said, still grinning.

Kirti looked at his mother. “Say, thank you,” Karishma prompted and she obliged again.

Karishma was happy to see Siddhartha smiling at her daughter. A twinge of guilt raised its head. Was she using her child to win her boss over and save her job? But she stamped it down. Keeping her job was the most important thing. For the same child of hers.

She helped Kirti sit on a chair by a wall, slightly away from where she and Siddhartha were talking, got her busy with a cartoon on her phone, then came back to continue their conversation.

The interruption had cleared Siddhartha’s head a bit.

“Sit down, Karishma,” he said, realizing that she had been standing until then. She slumped rather than sat on a chair.

“Why did you refuse him then?” he asked next.

For the first time since he had met her, he found that he had offended her. “So, if there isn’t anyone else objecting, is it unfathomable that a woman would refuse him? Perhaps you think that it is, especially for someone in my position. It must be foolish and arrogant on my part that a rich, eligible guy should propose to me and I don’t agree at the drop of a hat. Given that I am struggling in my life and money is my biggest problem.”

—

To be continued

“Sorry, I got late. But where is Kirti?” Karishma panicked to see the caretaker at the day care already on her way out. Kirti spent her mornings at the pre-school, but her afternoons were still spent at the day care. Karishma had stepped out to do her grocery shopping before collecting her daughter and leaving for the day. But the checkout queue had been long, and it was well past the closing time of the day care.

“Don’t worry. Your daughter has a rather dedicated and, I must say, expensive caretaker.”

“What do you mean?”

“She is with your boss.”

“Boss?”

“Soumen.”

Karishma rushed to her office and there they were. Soumen was showing some cartoon show to Kirti on his tablet and the child was rolling over with laughter.

“Kirti!” she called her daughter to draw their attention.

“Mommy. Momen Uncle!” Her pronunciation of Soumen’s name made Karishma chuckle. Then she turned apologetically towards Soumen, “I am so sorry. She must have troubled you so much. You needn’t have–”

“Not a problem. She is a sweet kid. A youtube video was all that was needed.”

His expression surprised Karishma to no end. Until a few weeks ago, this guy couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that someone his age could have a kid. And now he was happily playing with her!

“Thanks! But we won’t bother you any longer. And her screen time must be limited. It’s not good for kids.”

“Oh! I am sorry. I didn’t–”

“No, no. It’s fine. A few minutes is fine. Really.” She shifted her shopping bags in one hand and held out the other one to her daughter, “Come on, sweetheart. Time to go home. Say thanks to Soumen Uncle.”

Kirti obliged her by thanking Soumen.

“How will you go?” Soumen looked at the heavy bags in Karishma’s hands and asked.

“What do you mean how? Just like I always go.”

“Let me drop you. The bags are heavy and the child–”

“I do that every week.”

“But I have a car. So why should you–”

“It’s–”

“Kirti will enjoy it. Won’t you, Kirti?”

“Momen Uncle! Red car!” the child smiled broadly.

“Yep. I have a red car. See?”

“No Kirti. It will be a lot of trouble for him. Come on.” Karishma had seen the red car. It was a fancy convertible, meant for racing, not for carrying groceries and kids!

“I will drop you and this is an order,” Soumen said and picked Kirti up. Karishma had no choice but to follow him. She kept protesting, but he wouldn’t heed her.

Once they reached the car he hesitated for a moment. “There is no child seat in it.”

“That’s fine, Soumen. You don’t need to drop us anyway–”

“Never mind. Will she sit in your lap?”

“Yes. But–”

“Let’s put the bags in the boot.”

—

“How come you are attending a meeting without your able assistant?” Siddhartha said jokingly but was really curious about Soumen attending a supplier meeting by himself.

“She is unwell,” he looked distracted.

Siddhartha himself got worried, “What happened?”

“Viral fever. Apparently, there is nothing to worry, but it will take a few days to recover from.”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that.”

The people they were meeting walked in just then and the conversation was interrupted. Siddhartha saw Soumen struggling to concentrate and knew that although he had not planned to, he would have to lead the meeting. Looking at how paralyzed he was in her absence, Soumen was more of an assistant to Karishma than the other way round!

“I thought you had started liking working, Sonu.” Siddhartha told his brother after the meeting.

“I have. I like working.”

“Then if you want to continue doing so, you can’t depend on Karishma all your life. She is here today, she may not be here tomorrow.”

Soumen looked startled, as if the idea had never occurred to him.

“Even if she stays in the company, she needn’t be your assistant all her life,” Siddhartha added.

“I will see you later, Dada.” Soumen rushed off.

—

“Go to your granny, Kirti. You can’t stay with me. You will fall ill,” Karishma’s mother and the visitor she had escorted heard Karishma’s voice at the door of her room.

“There is someone here to meet you,” the old lady announced as she opened the door.

“Soumen!” Karishma sat up in her bed with difficulty.

“Momen Uncle!” Kirti looked excited too.

The name made her mother realize that it was Karishma’s boss. As much as she hated that her daughter was working against her husband’s wishes, she instinctively had a respect for authority. She fetched a chair for Soumen and offered him water. Then she tried to take her granddaughter away. But Kirti didn’t want to go with her and Soumen interrupted, “Let her be, Auntie. She will stay with me.”

Karishma had absent-mindedly answered Soumen’s enquiries until then. She was growing conscious of the shabby state of her parents’ small house. Although they had two rooms, one occupied by her parents and the other by her, both were a severe compromise in the name of a room. With her bed and the chair Soumen had been offered, there wasn’t enough space left even to close the door. An open cupboard was stuffed with all of hers and Kirti’s possessions. Kitchen items were overflowing into the hall, which also housed dirty laundry. It was all visible to Karishma; but her only relief was that Soumen had his back towards the hall. Not that he wouldn’t have seen it on his way in. What on earth was he doing here?

And she blurted the question out.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

“I am fine. I just have to wait out the viral. How did the meeting go?”

“Fine, I guess. Dada led it.”

“You could have.”

“I couldn’t, without you.”

Something about the way he said kept Karishma tongue-tied. He changed the topic, “Isn’t Kirti at risk of infection.”

“Yes. But my father is ill and my mother has to be by his sick bed all the time. Kirti doesn’t like it in their room.”

“I could take her to the day care, or pre-school if there is still time.”

“No. Why would you–” It was all getting too much for Karishma. After dropping her home for the first time, he seemed to have figured out that she did her grocery shopping every Wednesday and he would always insist on dropping her home on those days. He spent too much time with Kirti and the child was getting a bit too fond of her Momen Uncle and his red car. It now also sported a child seat. He would normally store the child seat in his boot, but it always came back on Wednesday evenings.

“It isn’t a problem for me and she would be safer there, won’t she? I will drop her back in the evening. On time.”

He was right about that. She would be safer there. Karishma relented and had her mother pack Kirti’s food and toys. But would he come every day and do this?

He did! And while his first visit didn’t seem to have bothered her mother, subsequent ones weren’t as acceptable. She as polite while he was there, but her questioning gaze and sly taunts got on Karishma’s nerves.

Fed up with the tyranny of Soumen’s inexplicable kindness and her mother’s taunts, Karishma tore herself out of the bed before she should have and made her way to the office four days later.

—

To be continued

“Karishma. Is Kirti’s admission to the pre-school finalized?” Siddhartha stopped in his tracks as he heard Mrinal’s voice inquiring about Karishma’s daughter. He didn’t open the door connecting his office to Mrinal’s as he had intended, and instead snooped in on their conversation.

“I am not sending her there.”

“Why not? It is absolutely the best. The best way to get admission into a good school when time comes.”

“I don’t know if it’s for her.”

“Why do you say so? Both my kids have gone there. What’s wrong with the place?”

She replied after a pause, “Nothing, really. It is the best as you said. But I can be honest with you. It is too expensive for me. I still need to have some money left when she has to join a real school.” She chuckled.

Figuring that the conversation was about to take an awkward turn, Siddhartha decided that it was an opportune moment to interrupt. He opened the door and asked Mrinal for the files he wanted.

He gave a cursory nod to Karishma, but she addressed him directly. “Sir, whenever possible, could you please give us some time to discuss the project you want Soumen to pick up.”

“As soon as he is in the office, both of you can come to me. I don’t have any other meetings today.”

“Soumen said that he was busy with something outside the office today. But he really wanted me to get some details from you so that he can get started on it later.”

Even if she were a good liar, it would have been difficult to lie about his brother being busy. But Siddhartha didn’t have the heart to call her out on her lie. Instead, he said, “Right away, then.”

—

“So what details did Soumen want you to get?”

“Firstly, the broad idea of the project itself. What is it about and what exactly do you expect him to do?”

The question was giveaway. Siddhartha had already explained it in details to his brother. Soumen, obviously, hadn’t spoken a word to her about it. He himself might not have heard a word of what Siddhartha had told him. But once again, Siddhartha didn’t call out her lie and repeated the information for her.

“The project is relatively simple. This is a fledgling NGO which is happy to receive whatever support we can give them so long as they get paid. And in our retail stores we should be able to move a small inventory from them quite easily. The contract with them has already been finalized. You – I mean Soumen – had reviewed it too. Now he basically needs to coordinate with merchandising to see what SKUs to acquire from them, then coordinate with design and the NGO to see if there are specific logistic requirements to bring them to stores – does the fabric or the design need any special treatment during transit and storage – that kind of stuff. Then, discuss with various logistic provider and finalize on the most cost-effective one, who would be able to give a good enough service.”

“We will also have to negotiate with the logistic providers, right?”

“Not a whole lot. We have existing relationships with many of them. You can limit yourself to the ones we already deal with and pull out their existing contract. Then get drafted something along similar lines. Yeah – you will have to coordinate with legal for that.”

A look of relief on her face told Siddhartha that she didn’t shy away from all the other grunt work, but she didn’t like the task of negotiating. She was obviously happy to learn that she wouldn’t need to. Which meant that she was going to do this project on her own!

—

But a happier surprise awaited Siddhartha over next few days. He saw Soumen in the office for long hours. He was often busy on phone or poring over documents with Karishma. Three days later he walked into his office with Karishma following behind to discuss the potential partners he had shortlisted. And this time, Karishma wasn’t the only one who was making sense. Soumen had also been involved in the project. If it hadn’t been so inappropriate Siddhartha would have liked to give Karishma a grateful hug. But he paused at the thought. He looked at her receding form as she was leaving after the meeting and realized that if he gave her a hug, it will be more that a grateful one. He muttered a few curses for himself under the breath.

Later in the day he summoned Mrinal and asked, “Do you have any recommendations for a good pre-school? Which one did your kids go to?”

Mrinal had a good camaraderie with his boss. He asked back, chuckling, “What do you want to know about a pre-school for?”

“For a friend, who has recently shifted to the city.”

“Which friend of yours has recently shifted to the city?”

“Are you my wife or what?” Siddhartha pretended annoyance.

“Sorry, sorry, boss! The one my kids went to is very close to the office and it’s a good one. I will send you the address and contact number over email.”

“Thank you.”

—

It was a Friday evening. It was customary for Siddhartha to have a meeting with Mrinal before ending the week where they planned the tasks and meetings for the next week. Siddhartha finished it by telling Mrinal about all the meetings he wanted arranged. But he had noticed Mrinal looking at him searchingly throughout the meeting. He couldn’t put up with the suspense and asked him before he could leave, “Is there something you have to say?”

“Damn it! You always know it, don’t you?” Mrinal ejaculated!

“Of course, I do. What is it?”

“Well – did you really expect it to go this way for Soumen?”

“What for Soumen? Which way?”

“I mean you hire him an assistant and she gets him to work.”

“I was not stupid enough to expect it and I was not wise enough to predict it. Hiring Karishma was an accident and that Soumen actually started working is a pleasant side-effect.”

“And while we are on that topic. I heard something crazy. Karishma’s daughter got a scholarship at the pre-school I had told you about.”

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Mrinal saw his boss flinch a little. But he still responded coolly, “That is indeed crazy. Who gets a scholarship for pre-school?”

“Wasn’t it your doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

That pretend-annoyance was a signal for Mrinal to shut up.

“Nothing. Just sounded crazy.”

“Crazy, indeed.”

Crazy! That was precisely the word the owner of pre-school had used when Siddhartha had called her with the proposal. But with the promise of another hefty donation, she had agreed to call Karishma and inform her that her daughter was selected for a scholarship at the pre-school and wouldn’t have to pay a dime for her time there!

—

To be continued

“Does Karishma need to be in the meeting?” Siddhartha asked, sounding casual, but as far as Soumen was concerned, Siddhartha’s eyes were penetrating through his very soul.

Seeing her boss tongue-tied, Karishma had to come up with an excuse, “Soumen thought I could take notes. It will help him.”

“Right!” Soumen mumbled his agreement.

‘She doesn’t call him Sir,’ Siddhartha made a mental note of that without intending to. “Alright,” he said outwardly, “Let’s get started. First the broad feedback. When you are reviewing a contract, remember that your job is to review the business terms. What can we commit to, what must we ask the other party to commit to. All with a view to what is best for our business. Is that clear?”

His audience of two nodded in unison.

“So, you can leave the grammatical issues aside. The legal team will take care of it before finalizing.”

Karishma went red in face, while Soumen continued to nod. Just another confirmation of what Siddhartha had assumed was going on.

“I think we can now go over the individual contracts you have already reviewed and see which of your comments were valid and which were not. This last one, for example, you correctly pointed out that we had missed the crucial clause against them poaching our customers when the customer details are handed over to them. Given that it is a contract for logistics, this is a very real possibility. So, good work there.”

“Thanks, Dada.”

“But look at this other one. It is for design services. You have mentioned that there is no punitive clause. Why do you think we need it?”

Soumen wasn’t forthcoming; so Karishma had to speak again, “Weren’t you comparing it with other contracts, Soumen? They all had punitive clauses.”

“Yes. All other contracts had this.”

“Okay. But this is different from most other contracts you saw. In a manufacturing contract defects are easily defined, and hence punitive clause can be invoked to cover the damages. But this is for a creative service. The definition of a defect will always be contentious. Besides, if the output of manufacturing is defective, we can ask for another in place of it. But in case of creative service, you either hit it off, or you don’t. At least that’s how I think of them. So, instead of a punitive clause, which won’t solve our problem, and whose conditions will anyway be contentious, we should look at introducing a clause that helps us cut our losses early on. That’s why, if you see, the milestones are defined very minutely in the appendix and a percentage of payment due is specified at each milestone. We also have the right to stop the project at any milestone. If things aren’t going well we would just stop it at the earliest one and cut our losses.”

Karishma took notes furiously for next half an hour, as Siddhartha took them through all eight contracts she had reviewed.

—

After Soumen and Karishma left, Siddhartha leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. There was no denying the situation. His brother hadn’t lifted even a finger. It was his assistant doing all the work. What made her do that? The desperation to keep her job? The real surprise for him wasn’t that she did it, but that she hadn’t done a bad job for someone completely inexperienced. He wouldn’t have expected his brother to do as well.

But what was he to do about this situation? He had wanted his brother to work; he had no interest in Karishma’s abilities. But now that her potential was staring at him in face, could he just ignore it? A knock at the door brought him out of his reverie. It was Mrinal reminding him of his next appointment.

—

“I have no idea if I am mad or glad about what you did,” Soumen told Karishma once they came out of Siddhartha’s office.

“You were never around. I did it in desperation.”

“What desperation?”

Karishma bit her lips. “Never mind. What do you want to do from now on?”

Her ‘never mind’ put him in a foul mood. “I suppose I am mad after all. I don’t know what I want to do from now on. But I would prefer not to be blindsided,” he said and walked off.

Karishma grinded her teeth to keep herself from retorting. Her job was a dead end from day one, and it didn’t look like she would be able to do much to keep it. Who will fire her? Soumen or Siddhartha?

She looked at her watch. There was nothing for her to do right now. These brothers would do whatever they do. Keep her or fire her. Right now, she had the luxury of her daughter being there at the company day care. And the misfortune of her falling ill. So, she might as well spend some time there.

—

“Karishma,” Soumen found her in the sick room attached to the day-care. The child in her lap started crying.

“Please wait,” Karishma looked up pleadingly, “I just need to put her to sleep.”

He nodded and stepped out.

“I am sorry,” she came out after ten minutes, looking flustered, “It was—It was still lunchtime. So, I thought I would—I’m really sorry. Did you need something?”

“It’s okay. I am not here to—You said your daughter is unwell?”

“That’s not a problem. The staff here will take care of her. I just—I just thought I had time. So—You have some work for me?”

“There is a small project that Dada wants me to get involved in. He wants to promote hand-made things – clothes mostly – from rural women’s collectives with our brand. He wants me to look after the supply chain and logistics.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I am not sure.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just so—so boring. I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, couldn’t you ask him for something that you would enjoy doing?”

“I know what he will say to that.”

“What?”

“That I need to prove myself first.”

And he didn’t want to do that! There was no surprise there, but Karishma had to bite her lips. Soumen was definitely not in a mood to hear a lecture on his privileges. At least, he had recovered from the foul mood he was in since that meeting with Siddhartha in the morning and was now talking to her again.

—

“Vikram called,” Karishma’s mother informed her, “He’s really upset at how you are behaving.”

Karishma remained silent as she stirred the noodles she was making for Kirti.

“He is right to be upset. Since when have you become so selfish, Karishma? Are you not thinking of anybody else? Is this what I raised you to become?”

Silence!

“Which couple in the world doesn’t fight? Does Kirti not need her father? He misses the child.”

Silence!

She was living under her parents’ roof. If her mother wanted, she could turn her out of the house. But despite her inability to understand how irredeemable her daughter’s marriage was, she wasn’t going to do that to her. Having satisfied herself of that, Karishma had given up on making her parents – mostly her mother – understand anything. Struggling with his debilitating illness, her father hardly seemed to be a party to the discussions anymore. If her boss worked more, Karishma would have happily stayed longer at office. Just to avoid this mother-daughter bonding session every evening. Perhaps she could start staying on late anyway. So long as she packed enough food and toys for Kirti, what was waiting at home for them except a bed to sleep in.

—

To be continued

“Vikram doesn’t want you working,” her mother said, as if informing her of something new.

“Vikram doesn’t want my daughter alive. What do you advise?”

“A man can lose his temper once in a while. You are supposed to keep this together. But you are hell bent on being stupid, running away from your marriage.”

This wasn’t the first time it had come up. This won’t be the last. But she now had a difficult job to worry about. She wouldn’t spend any more energy on this. She took a decision of not opening her mouth ever again. Before going to bed, she locked herself in the bathroom and cried her frustration out. Then she washed her face and waited until it no longer looked puffed. By the time she went to Kirti – her daughter – to put her to bed, there were no signs of tears left on her face.

—

Siddhartha went over to Neela’s place to pick her up for dinner. But as soon as she entered the car, he knew he wasn’t looking forward to this date. She had sounded interesting when he had first met her. She had talked a lot. And she had a lot to talk about too. But now he realized that it was enough only for one meeting. She never seemed to remember that she had told him a story or talked about a particularly curious opinion of hers on an obscure issue almost every time they had met. Besides, she believed in speaking instead of having a conversation. There was never any time or space for him to talk. And he wasn’t the kind who would talk unless the other person really seemed interested.

Perhaps, he thought as he drove, it was time to admit that he would never have a meaningful relationship. Perhaps the fault was not in the women he met, but in himself. Perhaps he was looking for impossible in a life partner when he didn’t have anything special to offer. Perhaps he should just find a good escort service to take care of his physical needs once in a while and forget about dating and relationships forever. He was getting too old for all this.

His state of mind didn’t matter as Neela continued to talk through dinner. That was expected. The surprising part was when he dropped her back and decided to announce his intention to break up.

“It’s me, really, Neela. I just don’t have time and energy for a relationship right now and it will be unfair–”

“it’s okay, Sid. You don’t need to soften the blow. I expected it.”

“Really?”

She smiled, looking sad, but speaking with ease, “Your reputation precedes you. It had to happen. I am alright.”

“What reputation?”

She chuckled, “That you are commitment-phobic. Anyway, let’s not drag this out. I do hope we can keep in touch. I don’t have any hard feelings.”

“Of course,” he replied, relieved that it had been so quick and easy, “We will keep in touch.”

Reputation? He had a reputation for being commitment-phobic? Is that what he was then? Not someone waiting for the right woman, but just commitment-phobic?

He wasn’t going to keep in touch in any case.

—

Mrinal called Karishma. Siddhartha had sent a contract to Soumen to be reviewed. He wanted it back.

“Was it a soft copy?” she asked.

“No. A hard copy. Must be in his drawer.”

“Okay. I will check it. By when does he want it?”

“Yesterday?” Mrinal chuckled, “I don’t think Soumen would have done any review, and I don’t think Siddhartha is expecting him to. But he keeps pretending that his brother is involved and perhaps hopes that by pretending he would be able to turn it into a reality.”

Karishma knew that Mrinal didn’t mean any harm. He was only jocularly stating what was the truth. But she felt her anger surge. She needed this job. And if her boss was delinquent, she couldn’t possibly have it for long. Mrinal’s joke didn’t sit well with her. She put a lid on her annoyance though and said, “I will see where it is.”

She opened Soumen’s drawer and had no difficulty in locating the contract. The drawer was empty save for those sheets of paper. She picked them up and flipped through them. Soumen hadn’t disappointed anyone. There were no comments anywhere on the contract. It was as clean as a freshly printed one would be.

She picked up the sheets, brought them to her office and threw them on her desk. After staring at them blankly for a moment, she sat down, picked them up and started reading through them.

—

It was a week before Siddhartha could catch Soumen at home during dinner. Sunidhi and their father were there too. He decided to use the opportunity to drop the bomb.

“Sonu,” he addressed Soumen by his pet name, “You have done well reviewing the contracts I have been sending your way recently.”

It didn’t take Siddhartha’s extraordinary skills at reading body language to see that Soumen was startled and confused.

“What are you saying, Dada?”

“I am serious. Your assistant sent those contracts back to me with your comments. You have even marked out grammatical errors in them. That’s some attention to detail. I didn’t think you had it in you. You have surprised me.”

“Oh! Right. Thanks, Dada,” Soumen didn’t want to own up before his father that he was getting praised for something he had no clue about.

“However, you would do better by focusing on the business terms rather than all the little spelling and grammar issues. There are other people to take care of that. If you could sit with me tomorrow, I would go over them with you and that should help you understand.”

Now he was really trapped. But also, curious. So, he agreed.

“I have some time at 11.30 tomorrow morning. I am blocking the calendar for you.”

“Okay, Dada.”

—

At eleven o’ clock, Soumen grew frantic. Karishma was nowhere in sight. And whatever review had gone back to Siddhartha could only be her doing. If he couldn’t talk to her before his meeting with Siddhartha, he would certainly be exposed. He didn’t want that. It had felt good to be praised by his elder brother who had always been too good to be measured up to. He regretted never noting down his assistant’s mobile number. But he hadn’t thought he would ever care.

“Where were you?” he demanded when Karishma walked in five minutes later.

“I.. I just– Did you need something?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in office by 9 ‘o clock?”

“You are never here,” she retorted.

“So what? Are you not supposed to be at work by nine? Why weren’t you? Today I actually needed something and you weren’t here.”

Karishma took a deep breath before replying in a clipped voice, “I was here at nine. But my daughter, whom I leave in the company’s day care, had fallen sick. So, I had to go and see her. I was away for barely fifteen minutes.”

“Your daughter? You have a daughter?”

“Yes.”

“But we are the same age. How can you have a daughter?”

Karishma was getting angrier by the moment. But snapping at Soumen was not an option. This spoiled brat had power over her. She grinded her teeth and spoke with as much calm as she could muster, “What did you need?”

“Right,” he seemed to need a moment to gather his thoughts together. Then he spoke, “Dada had sent some contracts to be reviewed.”

“Eight of them.”

“And he received them back, reviewed. Who reviewed them? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

Karishma went pale. “Was it–” she gulped, “Bad? Is he angry?”

“No. Apparently it was pretty good and detailed. But who on earth did it? He now wants to discuss those with me and I have no idea what was in them.”

She sighed and opened her drawer. “These are the photocopies of reviewed contracts. You can go through them.”

“You did the review?”

She didn’t respond.

“Of course! You were the nerdy kind even in college, weren’t you? I am sure you enjoy reading pages after pages. But how am I supposed to figure out what was in eight of them in next–” he looked at his watch, “twenty minutes?”

“Shall I explain?”

“Yes.”

When it was time he asked her to accompany him to the meeting. Nervously, she followed him.

—

To be continued

“Mr. Sen?”

Siddhartha’s one unfailing strength was his ability to accurately read people’s body language. And this woman’s tone and posture conveyed that she was utterly distracted and confused. Although this friend of Sunidhi’s – his baby sister – had taken him by surprise since she appeared so different from his flamboyant, flippant sister, her uncertain demeanor put him right back in the foul mood he had been in since his sister had started pestering him for this meeting.

“Dada! Karishma was a brilliant student and she is in need of a job now. Can’t you do this to oblige me? Just a little bit?”

What did the spoilt brat think a job involved? What job could he give to a woman who had graduated six years ago and hadn’t held any job in all these years. She would neither have the keenness and enthusiasm of a fresher, nor experience of years.

But Sunidhi wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Siddhartha took another long look at Karishma and couldn’t help wondering if his sister was really friends with this plain-looking nervous creature. She didn’t look to be one of Sunidhi’s circle at all.

At last, when he found her fidgeting growing more uncomfortable in his silence, he spoke, “Yes. Ms. Gupta, I presume?”

She looked even more confused for a moment, then seemed to gather her act together. She came forward and shook his hand.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Sir.”

‘Sir’ always made Siddhartha flinch. He would have told her to call him by name, but what was the point? He wasn’t really going to offer her a job and perhaps would never see her again.

“How can I help you?”

“As you perhaps know, Mr. Sen, that I am looking for a job. Under usual circumstances, I wouldn’t try to approach someone at your level for this, because it is an entry-level job we are talking about. But since I am looking for it 6-years too late by conventional standards, I get filtered out in the regular recruitment channels. Somebody needs to take an unconventional decision to give me a chance. And a person at a lower level can’t take such a decision. That’s why I grabbed the opportunity of taking Sunidhi’s help in meeting you despite knowing how unusual it is.”

Siddhartha found himself listening intently. The annoyance her initial demeanor had produced disappeared. At the very least, this young woman was far more sensible than his own sister.

“And why do you think I will take that unusual decision?” he asked.

She sighed, “Perhaps only because Sunidhi insisted that you should help me. But you will not be disappointed. It has been difficult for me to prove that I deserve a job. But I definitely need it. Which means that I would do anything to keep it.”

At this Siddhartha flipped through her short resume for the first time since Sunidhi had handed it to him. Her academic record was enviable.

“Why are you looking for a job after six years of graduating?”

She hesitated for a moment, but then decided to speak, “I will answer that honestly. But please know that I am not saying it to gain sympathy. Only that lying is unlikely to get me anywhere. I have come out of a six-year old abusive marriage just now. I have a daughter. My father is too ill to work or support us. I have to take care of myself and my daughter.”

A thousand questions popped up in Siddhartha’s head. But he refrained from asking them. She had obviously revealed something she wasn’t comfortable talking about. It would be inappropriate and cruel to dig more into her story.

But what job could he offer her?

“My brother needs an assistant,” he blurted before thinking it through. Soumen was no better than his twin Sunidhi when it came to taking responsibilities. But with the privilege and expectation parents tend to accord to a male child, their father really wanted Siddhartha to ensure that he got involved in the business. And Siddhartha had not been able to even make him stay in the office for any length of time, much less do any work. What would Soumen need an assistant for? From where did the idea even enter into Siddhartha’s head? And then he realized that he had just asked one of Soumen’s batchmates to be his assistant. One who had done so much better than him in academics. Damn!

But Karishma didn’t look offended. “Would you give me that job?” she asked, looking hopeful.

“I would, but I am afraid it isn’t going to be an easy job. Before assisting him, you would have to make him work.”

She seemed uncertain, as anyone would be, but what she said confirmed her desperation for a job, “I would do whatever it takes.”

“Okay then. Please wait at the reception. I will ask my assistant Mrinal to coordinate with you and take care of all the formalities.”

She nodded, and got up, but continued to linger instead of leaving.

“Yes?”

“There is something else I was hoping to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

“Salary,” she replied quickly, “I would need at least–”

“Entry level positions come with nothing above 25k a month–”

“That would do!”

Siddhartha chided himself. Had he just blurted the upper limit in a negotiation situation, instead of starting at the lowest he thought he could get away with? How on earth did he commit such a blunder? But he calmed himself down. This girl making a few thousands extra was not going to sink his company. He would make sure he didn’t lose his mojo in the negotiations that really mattered!

“Please wait outside at the reception.”

“Yes Sir.”

Damn! He hadn’t asked her to call him by name.

—

Mrinal had helped her with the formalities of joining, given her an orientation to the company and explained the role of the assistants. But he had a puzzled look on his face throughout.

“When do I meet my boss?” Karishma asked in the afternoon, after all of this was done.

He sighed and gave voice to what was puzzling him, “That’s what I don’t know. I hardly see him in the office. Siddhartha keeps trying to get him interested in the business. But he doesn’t seem to care. It isn’t my place to say anything more about Soumen, but I have no clue what your job is.”

Karishma gulped hard. So that’s what Siddhartha had warned her about. He had obliged his sister by offering her a job, but perhaps it was one she wasn’t supposed to survive.

She had to try though.

“He doesn’t know he has a new assistant, does he?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Could you introduce me to him at least? Over phone?”

“I will try calling him.”

To both their surprise, when Soumen heard that he had been assigned an assistant, he said he would come to the office right away. He did, saw Karishma, uttered a disappointed ‘Oh!’ and then left after saying hello.

Mrinal’s ashen face confirmed Karishma’s suspicion of what had happened. Soumen had made this trip to the office in the hopes of seeing a ‘hot secretary’ and Karishma wasn’t exactly that. Humiliating as it was she couldn’t help wondering if she would have had a better chance in succeeding at the job if she was what Soumen came looking for and hence could have held his attention for a while at least.

“Before assisting him, you would have to make him work,” Siddhartha had said. But how on earth was she supposed to do that if he won’t even grace the office with his presence?

—

To be continued