The Artwork Deal

 

If Carlo Petit had completed his formal education, then he would have never grown fond of his passion, which was art. Born in a middle- class French family, Carlo Petit’s father worked at the government office of France as an administrative clerk and his mother was a routine housewife. His parents wanted to give him a good education which they themselves had missed out on, but Carlo, which meant “Strong” in French, had other ideas running in his brain that were getting matured by the passing days.

The Petit family had hardly dreamt that Carlo would one day just stop going to his school and instead take refuge with a group of art lovers under a big tree near to his own school. The group known to the locals as the “Artisto” comprised of four boys, who would collect small paintings of art and other art materials and replicate them in their own amateur paintings. Initially though, Carlo found it really tough to match the other boys, but as the days passed by his artwork improved. At that point of time, the Petit family was run solely on Carlo’s father’s income. Though they were only three of them, both the parents were concerned about Carlo’s future and that of the family’s too.

France, at that point of time, which was just on the way towards the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of twentieth Century, had a social structure that could easily be divided into three sections. The Upper class, lower class and the middle- class. It could’ve been easily said that the Petit family had luck and time on their side. Carlo’s father had a decent job nearby to his house in Paris, and his mother took care of the housework without being required to go outside for work. Carlo on the other hand, had his days run by with most of his time spent along with the “Artisto” Group.

It was for quite some time in the art world, especially in Europe, that Women were idealized in artwork that had actually led to the growth of art, especially in France. History had shown evidence that the greatest of the painters had idealized women in their artwork to the enigmatic of effects. As years passed by and Carlo grew up to be a mature young boy of twenty, tall, with curly hair and fair complexion, this phenomenon of the painters idealizing women in their artwork made Carlo come across an enigmatic painting that would end up taking his love for painting to an all new level of obsession and also give him a new unforeseen direction to his life.

The year was 1908; France was growing towards urbanization and development keeping behind the history of the French Revolution. It was only during this time when Carlo along with his friends from the “Artisto” group   made a visit to an art museum known to the lovers of art as “The Louvre”.

Carlo’s only motive was to the view the enigmatic “Mona Lisa Painting” by the great Italian artist Leonardo Da Vinci with his own eyes. It was since some years that Carlo had heard about the Mona Lisa painting and the mystery surrounding the art work.

Carlo may have been a school dropout, but his thinking and planning was equivalent to any educated young male in France at that point of time. It was his habit since his childhood of researching on things and topics which he was interested in. It was this habit which made him to make frequent trips to the local library to know more about the Mona Lisa painting and also about the museum where it was housed. What intrigued Carlo was not the fame but what he learned both about the painting and The Louvre.

The Louvre, to the world may be an art museum, but to France it is a sign of freedom of art and speech. Given the history through which France had been through, including the French Revolution, The Louvre, signified to the French its rich historical collection of art and artists, many of whom actually belong to other nations. France as a country had been through the rule of many a king, King Francis I was one among them, and was the one who had begun The Louvre Palace back then in 1546. Being a great art collector himself, Francis ensured that The Louvre served as his residence too.  After King Francis I, the palace moved into hands of subsequent Kings namely, Henry II and Charles IX.

Reading through the rich history of The Louvre, Carlo couldn’t help but wonder how every subsequent French monarch extended the Louvre and its grounds and made major additions not only to the geographical expanse, but also to the art holdings of the palace.  Post the French revolution, the French population in their quest for enlightenment, started putting requests for public display of the royal art collections. Understanding the entire history of Louvre added to the entire interest which Carlo had developed for the Mona Lisa painting. Though until then, Carlo was satisfied with his research but his quest for the mysterious Mona Lisa Painting had to wait for few more days.

It would be two more weeks later when Carlo would get his hands over books in which the entire history and conspiracy theories in relation to the Mona Lisa painting were found. Each evening Carlo read for exactly two hours and returned the next day. Night would be passed by introspecting what he had read in the evening. Carlo wasn’t surprised when he learned about the fact that King Francis I had once persuaded Leonardo Da Vinci to come to France along with his painting, The Mona Lisa.  Da Vinci had arrived and resided in France, but later on he died in France subsequent to which The Mona Lisa painting became the property of King Francis I and eventually that of France.

That evening when Carlo had just finished the book and started to wind up for the day, he observed a tall lanky male with a thick moustache sitting at the corner of the long table. Carlo thought for a while and suddenly recollected that he had seen the same person every day since he had started to come to the library. From the other side of the table, the tall lanky man looked towards Carlo and gave him a grin.  Antonio Romano had found his partner in crime.

If Antonio’s mother hadn’t come back to Italy after marriage, then Antonio would’ve grown and perhaps spent in his entire life in the African continent where his father worked. Irritated and disturbed by the civil disturbances, Antonio and his mother moved back to Italy and to peace, only until Antonio grew up and became a notorious thief who robbed not for money but for the excitement and challenge. It was very well known in the Italian circles that, if you want anything robbed, Antonio Romano would get it for you. It was through this image that Antonio found himself sitting around with the greatest of Italian underground groups and later on through one of such group, Antonio had struck a deal on an assignment for which he was currently in Paris.

For his assignment, Antonio was in search of a young art lover or an artist who would be the perfect partner in crime. It was through his acquaintances in Paris that he had learned about an art group by the name of “Artisto”. Weeks of chasing and shadow walking made him select Carlo Petit as his perfect partner. Of course, Carlo’s new found interest in The Louvre and The Mona Lisa Painting added to the entire scenario.

That evening as he again followed Carlo through the backyard lanes of Paris, Carlo finally got a hint of it. He tried to confuse the Italian through the small confusing by- lanes, but unaware of the fact that Antonio was as apt as he himself was, he finally gave up and confronted Antonio.

“Monsieur, look, I have been observing that you are following me. What’s it that you want?”

Antonio offered his trademark grin and asked Carlo to join him for a tea next day.

It was a restless night for Carlo. Unable to sleep due to the next day’s meeting, Carlo was worried for reasons unknown to him.

“How about stealing the Mona Lisa Painting?”

Carlo looked at Antonio in disbelief. He wasn’t sure how to react. Being a twenty- year- old didn’t surely help at that moment of time.

“I know it seems absurd. But believe me, if we get our hands on that piece, we both would be millionaires.”

“Why do you want to do it?” Carlo actually didn’t find anything better to ask.

Antonio removed two cigars from his suit pocket, handed one to Carlo and lit his own and puffed out the first inhale.

“It’s a long story and you wouldn’t understand.”

“I am all here, Antonio. Tell me.” Carlo appeared tensed though he sounded confident and fearless.

“Look man, there are secret Italian societies or groups which want the Mona Lisa in Italy as they believe that the painting belongs to Italy. The thing is that the entire history of its making and the subsequent departure from Italy to France has been a subject of debate in the Italian circles for long. There are theories but the fact cannot be ignored that Leonardo Da Vinci was from Vinci, Republic of Florence which is present day Italy. The subject of the painting is popularly believed to be the wife of a wealthy Florentine  silk merchant  by the name of Francesco del Giocondo, the wife’s name  Lisa  Del Giocondo. So, you would obviously relate the name Mona Lisa, the word “Mona” was used to address women in those days in Italy as “Mrs” in the current world.”

“So, you see, there are plenty of reasons why Mona Lisa should be in Italy, that too Da Vinci’s one”

Carlo seemed to have cooled down once Antonio had started to sing the facts.

“How much are you getting for this?” Carlo asked bluntly.

“Whatever I get, we will share”

Carlo thought for some time and calculated things in his young head.

“Why don’t we steal it and sell it to them rather than taking a fee for it” asked Carlo.

“Not a chance. They would expose us and we would be behind bars. Someone else would be sent to steal the painting again.”

“What really amuses me is that in all of Paris you only found me to be your partner in crime.”

“You wouldn’t be a suspect in case of any leak and you look quite an artist and also the added advantage which you acquired within the last few weeks about your knowledge on The Louvre.”

Carlo still wasn’t convinced on joining Antonio. He asked for few days to think on the matter to which Antonio agreed. They departed on the agreement that they would meet after a month at the same place.

Few days later, Carlo made a personal visit to The Louvre.  The Louvre, the ancient building that it was comprised of two former royal palaces, The Louvre and The Tuileries. These two were linked together to form a vast, three- sided building.  From the ground floor inquiry, Carlo was informed that The Mona Lisa was stored in a room which was also known as the square room. That very particular room also housed the painting of other artists.  But as Carlo had heard, The Mona Lisa stood apart even among so many of the greats. It was the first time for Carlo to view the Mona Lisa painting with his own eyes. An enigmatic feeling gripped him like never before, and it seemed as the subject in the painting looked straight into his eyes, hinting too many a secret unknown to the world outside.

As Carlo had read and also heard, one of the most cited reasons for the fame of the painting was the “Mona Lisa Smile”.  What also intrigued Carlo was the background in the painting, especially the landscapes.  Continuously looking at the painting, Carlo was repeatedly drawn back to the smile.  The mysterious smile, as Carlo had read about surely did offer its own version.  The world had various interpretations of the smile, for some it was a happy smile, for some it was a sad one and for many it was a kind of deceptive smile. Carlo wondered about the selling price of the painting, especially if it was stolen and preserved for few years or decades. It would fetch a fortune, he thought.

 For the next two weeks, Carlo returned each day to view and study the Mona Lisa painting and also to view other paintings at The Louvre. It mesmerized him to be among the finest of art collections in the world at that point of time.  He wondered what it would be to work at The Louvre and be a spectator to the collections every day. One of the days he had also met The Louvre’s head curator.

Carlo made up his mind. As was decided, Carlo met up with Antonio at the same place they had met earlier. Carlo gave his consent to Antonio on joining him in the plan to steal the Mona Lisa painting.

Over the next month, Carlo and Antonio made frequent trips to The Louvre to study the structure and security of the building. They would often take a horse cart to The Louvre. Dressed to perfection in a suit and crisply ironed shirts and trousers, and a round hat with a stick in hand, both took the trip to The Louvre with utmost of sophistication.

Antonio had made few inquiries and he himself had taken personal trips to the surroundings of The Louvre. Through one of the locals, he had come across a drain pipe that was located outside the boundary of The Louvre on the eastern side. The drain ran into The Louvre through an underground tunnel. It was an ancient tunnel which was constructed during the renaissance era to take the royal valuables outside the palace in the event of any danger. It was this drain that Antonio   had accidently come across which would eventually be the entry point for him. Though Carlo was sceptical about the entry point, he agreed to Antonio’s plan.

The plan was simple. On the planned night, they would enter The Louvre through the drain tunnel and get into the underground safe keeping area. From there on, they would walk through the north end stairs towards the upper floors and then ultimately into the square room. They would take the painting from the wall and walk back through the same route. As it would be night time, there would no security inside the building. All the security would be outside guarding for any intrusion. The only care which both decided upon was the occasional round up which the security personnel did at the end of each hour.

Twenty fifth December, 1908 was decided as the day when they would steal the painting. They still had a week to go by. In the meantime, Carlo gave a visit to his home. He ensured his parents that in few weeks he will surely safeguard his future. Carlo’s parents, though not sure about the same, still gave an affirmative smile to their only son.

By the time the D- Day arrived, Carlo and Antonio were both ready. Each one of them had visualized their own part. They arrived at the eastern side of The Louvre around eleven in the night. Antonio picked up the drain cover and slid in, and Carlo followed him. The water level was not more than half feet but stink surely was a problem. They couldn’t just practice this aspect of avoiding the stink. It took about thirty- five minutes to walk through the drain water into the underground zone of The Louvre. As planned, through the ancient spiral stairs that was made of cement, they walked up to the ground level above the drain water block. Their feet were totally wet. They waited for some time to ensure that no one heard them. Slowly, they walked towards the north side stairs. On reaching the same, Carlo first walked up and moved ahead followed by Antonio. Darkness confused both of them as they were unable to find the square room where the Mona Lisa painting hung. Unable to locate the room, they halted and looked around. Both realized that they had taken the wrong stairs. They retreated back hurriedly and walked back in silence. On finding the correct stairs, they climbed up and took the correct turn to reach the square room. Antonio removed a bigger candle from his small bag which he carried. He lit it and searched for the painting.

To his amusement, as he positioned the candle light towards the location where the Mona Lisa painting was hung, he only found a bare wall with hooks on the four corners.

For a second, Antonio got the shock of his life. He looked back but couldn’t find Carlo. Suddenly all the lights lit up and three policemen surrounded Antonio from three corners.

“Welcome Mr. Antonio Romano. We were expecting you.” said the Curator.

The police arrested Antonio. He looked around. It seemed Carlo had run away or was hiding somewhere.

Antonio was handcuffed and taken away. The curator thanked the policemen and walked back into his office. As he entered, he saw a young twenty- year- old teen looking at a painting that was smiling back at him, only if one had the eyes to see the smile.

“Ah, Carlo, my boy. Thank you very much dear. I don’t know what would we do if you hadn’t informed us about this plan of stealing the Mona Lisa.”

Carlo looked at the Curator. “I hope you remember your promise,”

“Sure, my boy, The Louvre is very proud to have its new art member as an assistant at the administration office.”

Carlo surely had made the correct promise to his parents of safeguarding his future. A job at The Louvre.

Carlo Petit was eager to start a new life among the walls of The Louvre, amongst the greatest of the masterpieces.

Note:

This story is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, places, events, incidents, organizations, or locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality.

All rights reserved.

The Typist

 

The office looked very small on the first impression. A room divided in two parts. One had a cabin for the owner and the other part, which comprised of only three medium sized square shaped wood tables and four wooden chairs, was allocated to the employees. Veronica wasn’t impressed with what she saw. It was her first job and the office didn’t look attractive or lively at all. There were three more employees sitting at their allocated spaces. Only one table with a typewriter placed on it and a chair were empty which she presumed would be allocated to her. She observed that there was no air conditioning in the office, only a ceiling fan.

Veronica Gomes never wanted to be a steno typist but since her mother had been the same for her entire career, it wasn’t a surprise when she decided to start her career with the same profile. After she had completed her graduation, she was recommended by one of her relatives to the owner of the office for the job of a steno typist.

Finally, after waiting for half an hour, an electronic bell was heard and one of the other employees told her to go inside to meet the owner.

The first observation that she made was that the cabin was air conditioned unlike the employee designated area. The owner was submerged in some papers when he abruptly looked at Veronica.

“Oh, yeah. Please have a seat.” He said putting down his round spectacle.

Zubin Electricwala didn’t seem to be a strict employer at first sight but he was one. Expecting the best performance from his employees, he was a hard task master. The fifty- nine -year -old had seen number of employees in his career as a consultant and he had been fairly disappointed with the new generation of employees.

“Everyone wants money. No one is interested in quality and skill.” He would comment to his club friends.”

Zubin Electricwala was a law consultant by profession and the sole owner of his law firm named, “Electricwala and Co”. His main forte was corporate law and labor laws as advertised. The position for which Veronica was hired was as his Steno typist. Zubin Electricwala had a lot to say and he would do so in his letters and papers to his clients. Of course, when involved with his clients on any particular case, he would make pages after pages of documents all typed on a typewriter. The year was 1991 and though computers had made a foray in large corporates but it was far away from the walls of Zubin’s office.

“I hope you have been trained very well. I have read your bio- Data. The institute where you have learned the steno work is a very renowned one.”

“Yes, sir. I have gone through six months of training. I shall give my best.” She replied hesitantly.

“Well. Good then. Let’s start for the day.” Zubin clapped his hands and handed over a bunch of hand written papers.

“Please get these typed at the earliest. We have to dispatch it by today evening.”

Veronica’s eyes popped out looking at the volume of papers she was handed.  As she took hold of them, “all these today itself?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes. We cannot delay furthermore.”

It was eleven in the morning when Veronica sat down on her chair. The next time when she got her head up and looked up at the watch was three forty -five in the afternoon. She had finished her typing and she collected and arranged the typewritten papers and handed over to Zubin. While Zubin reviewed the papers, she sat down for lunch on her table.  Twenty minutes later, Zubin rang the bell alarm that signaled that he was calling the typist.

When Veronica entered the cabin, Zubin handed over the papers back to her. “Make these corrections as highlighted,” said Zubin and looked back into the documents on his table. Veronica stood there in silence and looked at the papers. She observed grammatical corrections with respect to comma, full stop, hyphen, brackets and a lot more.

“Sir, but I copied everything as it was written in those hand written pages.”

Zubin looked up and kept down his spectacles. “I understand that. But it was your job to check the grammar and everything else with respect to the language and sentence structuring.”

Veronica stood there in silence unable to actually understand her job profile.  Avoiding a clash on her first day, she nodded and took the papers out and kept on her table. By then, evening tea had arrived. She gulped down the tea and then again sat down to re work and re type the papers.

The day ended at seven thirty in the evening when the last set was ready. Before moving out for the day, the papers were packed and kept ready for the post early next day. While she got up and was ready to leave, she observed that Zubin was still at his desk inside the cabin. She left without asking anything.

Over the next few weeks, it became the same routine.  Veronica would type based on hand written notes from Zubin or based on oral dictation by Zubin. Post this, she would then present it to Zubin. Zubin would make corrections with respect to grammar, sentence structuring, vocabulary and other alignments. Subsequent to the changes as suggested, she would again re-work on those papers.

To her surprise, one day, when a notice had arrived to a client Zubin had found many errors in the English and structuring of the contents. He dictated a letter to Veronica which corrected all the mistakes with respect to English and the technical content. He then posted the letter along with the notice back to the authorities requesting them to rectify and resend and informing them that only after the corrections in the notice would he take the requisite action in consultation with the client. Veronica was astonished.

Every time Veronica typed and presented to Zubin, he would find mistakes and correct them and make her do everything from scratch. Months passed and then two years passed following the same routine. Veronica by now had been irritated to the brink of her limits. She couldn’t understand the old man.

Finally, after completing two and half years with Zubin, on a winter morning of 1993, she presented her resignation letter.

Zubin looked at the letter and then looked back at her, “You leaving?” “But why?” he asked.

She looked at him silently trying to understand whether he did this on purpose with young people.

“I have got an opportunity with a medium sized corporate house. I would like to take that offer, sir”

 Zubin nodded his head. “I will have to search for one more typist then.”

After thinking for some time, he signed the resignation letter and looked up at Veronica, “All the best dear. Hope you make me proud one day.”

Veronica took the letter back from Zubin unable to understand what he had meant by the words “ Hope you make me proud one day.”

Shrugging aside her thoughts, she walked out and then started to arrange everything. Two weeks later, Veronica finally left from the office one last time relieved that she wouldn’t have to again come back to that office.

Seven years later on a misty winter evening of the year 2000, when Veronica Gomes received her promotion letter of Executive assistant to CFO of a large listed company, she couldn’t believe it. It had been one fantastic journey for her, she realized. After she had left Electricwala and Co, Veronica had joined a medium sized auto spare parts manufacturing company. In that Company, she was responsible for drafting and typing all the correspondences with the customers and vendors. Over the next one year, the Company was very happy by her performance and she was transferred to the Holding Company which was a large Auto manufacturing Company listed on the Bombay Stock exchange ( BSE). At that Company, she was responsible for corporate communications and media communications. Though the world had undergone a change and her work had moved from a type writer to a computer, but her core strengths that she had learned remained intact. She read everything in detail, worked impeccably, reviewed her own work and re-worked on everything. Her final papers would always be her fifth or sometime the tenth draft. Finally, in 1999 she had joined one of the largest auto companies in India at that time and was promoted to be executive assistant to the CFO of the Company responsible for all communication, paper work and drafting from the CFO’s office.

As she sat down for a coffee in the plush and luxurious tenth floor office over- looking the Arabian sea, her thoughts drifted back to her first job. All these years she had never looked back to her first office. She had never gone to meet Zubin and neither she had contacted him. She couldn’t have denied that everything she had become was primarily due to the initial seeds of learning she had done at Electricwala and Co. She never forgot the learnings from Zubin, “Review everything number of times until you are completely satisfied,” he had often said during those years as she recollected. “Re-work everything to the tune of perfection,” she recollected another favourite phrase of Zubin. Her current office was just at a distance of fifteen minutes from Electricwala and Co. That evening as she sipped her black coffee in the luxury of the plush corporate environment, she decided she would visit Zubin the next day.

Next day, when she reached the building of Electricwala and Co, nostalgia struck her. It was the same lift that had taken her to her first job. She observed that the building didn’t change even after all those years. She reached the third floor and walked through the passage and looked at the corner room that was the office of Electricwala and Co. She reached the office door but surprisingly found a different name on the door. She pushed the door and entered and found herself inside a plush and well air- Conditioned office where people were glued to their computers. She looked around the room and found no cabin. “Sorry,” she apologized and walked out. Unable to find any known face, she walked back to the lift. She entered the lift. She finally recognized the liftman. The liftman was the same man who would foray the lift even in those year.

“Hello, sir. Can you tell me where did Electricwala and Co shift to?” Veronica asked excitingly.

The lift man looked closely towards Veronica. “Oh. It’s you. I remember. You use to work in this building once.” Veronica nodded smilingly.” Can you tell me where is Zubin sir now.”

“Actually, I don’t know. But after you had left, the office closed down.”

“Can you tell me why did the office close down.” she asked inquisitively.

“They say that he didn’t have much customers to work with.  After some months, he only pretended to run an office. He was only interested in teaching young people how to work and think. He made them work very hard and gave them money for that. They thought that they were getting salary but there was no business so it was all a loss for Zubin in those later years. All the work was only to train young people who came to his office and then those young people left getting irritated by his hard task master role.”

Veronica was stunned and shocked. Her mind went down to the years when she worked so relentlessly in that office and he would review, check and make corrections.

“Do you know where did he shift?”

“No one knows that actually. He just vanished one day after everyone came to know that he wasn’t left with any business or clients.”

Tears had almost rolled down her eyes. She controlled herself and walked down the building. She looked at the sky above and road ahead. The shops were the same, the road side stall was the same and the people all around also seemed same.  Everything she had learnt was attributable to Zubin and the firm. If not for him, she would have been a routine employee doing routine work in some organization. She felt sad that she couldn’t say a goodbye thank you to him when she had left. Those words came back to her, “Hope you make me proud one day.”

It was afternoon time. She decided to walk down to her current office. As she walked and mixed into the crowd of hundreds of people heading to some destination or other, some two thousand kilometers away, in a small town, at the door of a small office, there was a knock. The owner of the office looked up and said, “Come in”

“Hello, sir. I am Aniket Mehta and I am here to work as a Typist.”

“Are you sure you want to work here? I am really very strict and a hard task master.”  

“Yes, sir. I am ready”

“Good. You can join then. Please take these hand written papers and type them on the computer outside. We have to dispatch them today itself.”

Aniket took the bunch of papers and hurried outside.

The sixty- eight -year- old Zubin Electricwala rested back on his chair thinking happily about the fact that he will be training a young mind for the future.

 

Happy Teachers Day

 

The locality buzzed of echoes of an emergency ambulance van rushing through the lanes at that time. It was 3AM in the morning and majority of the residents of the locality were in their deep sleep. Inside the emergency ambulance, the old lady with an oxygen pipe fitted to her nose, lay on a stretcher bed looking at a stranger sitting beside her. A middle- aged female sat there holding her hands and looked regularly towards the driver.  The female stranger looked back at the old lady and held her hands tightly. The hold assured the old lady that she would reach her destination within time.

Racheal Braganza was an eighty- four years old widow who lived all by herself. Her only son resided in Australia. Her husband, Victor Braganza had passed away some seven years ago. Since then, she lived all by herself. Her son had made arrangements for a house help who would do all the house work. But she would leave by seven in the evening. From that time until morning eight, Racheal lived all by herself, reminiscing the memories of her life.

 Primarily a resident of the state of Goa, her family had shifted to Bandra in Mumbai city after the Independence of Goa from the Portuguese in 1961. Since then, she had resided in Bandra all her life. After her marriage to Victor, they found a good descent home in the same locality and made Bandra their permanent home.

However, the most important aspect of her life was not her marriage or her home or the town, it was the school where she got appointed as a teacher, St Sebastian’s high school.

St Sebastian’s high school was one of the oldest schools in the town which was founded by a British couple during the late 1890’s. Over the years she went on to become one of the most favourite teachers among the school students. She rose in the ranks over the years. From Junior teacher to senior teacher to head teacher and finally becoming to the head mistress of the school. It was not surprising to the students and their families that Racheal Braganza went on to serve as the longest running Head mistress of the school until she finally retired at the age of 72. But she kept in touch with the school. On every event and celebratory occasion, she was invited to be a guest and introduced to the new batch of students.

The emergency ambulance abruptly halted in font of the hospital gates. Racheal was taken out on the stretcher and hurriedly taken inside. She could hardly grasp what was happening all around her. And suddenly everything went dark in front of her.

Next time when she opened her eyes, she could see an emergency room full of nurses and a doctor with a mask on his face. The Doctor looked straight at her and smiled. He bowed down and then got back to his work. Racheal looked all around. There were some medical machines that were connected to her. She couldn’t understand the functions of those machines. She realized that perhaps it was because of those machines that she was feeling better. The Doctor came back and smiled again. “You are much better today, Madam. You shall soon be discharged. It was truly a challenging three days for us.”

Rachael didn’t understand anything the doctor said. Everything was almost like a bouncer to her. She tried to close her eyes and rest. Finally, two days later, she was informed that she would be discharged. After all the formalities, she was finally ready to exit the emergency room. It was only then that she found a handwritten note on the desk table beside her bed.

It stated “Have a happy journey teacher, Your doctor, Mr Ravi Sharma. And also, your student. Batch of 1998. Good wishes for your health.” Racheal couldn’t recollect anyone by that name. There had been so many students all through her life that she couldn’t recollect names anymore. She kept the note in her bag and walked out slowly. As she walked out, she found the same female who had carried her to the hospital in the Ambulance. She held her hand and walked slowly towards the lift. Once at the gate, a car came and halted in front of both of them. The Female stranger made her sit inside the car and then got inside herself. The male driver drove the car silently. Racheal looked out of the window and was happy to go home. Half an hour later, when they got home, Rachael got down and looked at male driver.

“Who are you and why did you come to pick me up?” Racheal asked inquisitively.

The man bowed down. Ashish Kapoor, Madam or shall I say, head mistress. Batch of 2004 under your able guidance.

“Really?” Racheal asked confusingly. She looked at the Female lady standing beside and asked her, “who are you?”

“Malena Gomes, Madam or shall I say teacher. Batch of 2002.”

“Why can’t I remember any of you?” Rachael asked.

“It’s okay, madam. It has been long years now.”

“But how did you know about me and that I was unwell?” Racheal asked.

Malena looked at Ashish and then back at Madam. “We always know what you are doing and how you are feeling. We are in touch with your son. Your son has put   CCTV cameras inside the home to keep a watch on you all time. It was he who called us urgently when he observed on CCTV that you were feeling unwell all through the day. We rushed to your house.”

“My son is in Australia. How can he see what’s happening inside the house?”  

“Well, that’s a long story, Mam. We shall make you understand on a cup of coffee tomorrow morning.”

“But we do have a surprise for you inside the house,” Malena informed.

“Surprise. Really?” Racheal looked at her house and was excited to reach the door like a small child.

As she opened the doors, there stood an entire entourage of middle- aged people. Racheal almost thought she entered the wrong house, but when she checked the door, she realized that it was her own house. She looked at the people gathered and yelled, “What are you people doing inside my home and who are you all?”

A lanky middle- aged male walked towards Racheal, “Avinash Roy, madam. Batch of 2002.”

A Tall well built magnetic personality walked towards the gate, “Vikram Rai Chand madam. Batch of 2000”.

All fifteen people introduced themselves who belonged to some or other batch from the St Sebastian’s High school. 

Over the next few days, more students visited her and checked on her health.

Though Racheal Braganza could hardly remember any of them but she was happy and excited to know that the students never gave up on their teacher and the school head mistress.

A week later, one morning, a well- suited person stood in front of the house door. The door bell rang. It took some time for Racheal to reach the door. As she opened the door, she looked at the person standing outside the house. She sensed that perhaps he was a famous personality whom she had seen in newspapers and television. Finally, after recollecting, she said rather loudly,” you are that business tycoon, Viren Hirwani.”

“What do you want here?” she asked rather confusingly.

“Happy Teachers day, Madam, or shall I say, Headmistress. This is Viren Hirwani from the Batch of 1999 reporting, Madam.”

The Man at Hotel Paris Heights

 

The day was cloudy. Weather forecast channels had predicted that there would be heavy rains but the rains gods had decided to stay away for the time being. Under the cloudy sky, a taxi drove down to the gate of the hotel and halted. The driver pulled down the window and looked at the security. The security personnel at the gate looked at the passenger on the backseat. A middle- aged gentleman who weirdly sat down inside the taxi wearing his glares on, looked at the security personal and waved. The security personnel couldn’t understand as to why the passenger was waving.

“Got him from the Airport. He wanted to rest for some hours before he could catch his next flight,” the driver explained to the security personnel. The driver, Carlos, was a routine visitor to the hotel. He had a business contract to get tourist from the airport to the hotel for accommodation.

After the routine security checks on the car, the taxi was allowed to drive in. The drive from the gate to the hotel was around three minutes. Three minutes later, the taxi arrived at the hotel entrance. The passenger got down and paid the taxi and picked up his only luggage of a handbag. As he stood at the entrance and looked at the name of the hotel, he felt proud. He had heard a lot about the hotel and finally he was there. Hotel Paris Heights welcomed Charles Anderson.

As he walked up the beautiful stairs that led to the entrance of the hotel, a middle -aged attendant welcomed him by waving his uniform cap,” Good day, sir. Hotel Paris Heights welcomes you.” As he walked ahead, Charles was confused by the revolving entrance door. He still had his glares on. He looked at the attendant and smiled and continued, “These seems like the new ones. Last time I had visited a hotel at Amsterdam, they had those simple glass doors.”

“Let me help you, sir,” the attendant uttered as he pushed the door which revolved and opened the pathway to walk in.

As Charles was welcomed to a beautifully designed and brightly lit foyer, his mood changed instantly. He felt cheerful. The foyer seemed exactly like the one his parents had explained to him. He was taken to the reception desk by the attendant.

A beautiful lady looked at Charles and welcomed him with a three sixty- degree smile,” Welcome to Hotel Paris Heights, sir.”

“Hello Merlin,” Charles replied back instantly. He had already read the name of the female receptionist who welcomed him from the batch on her uniform.

Ten minutes later after the initial pleasantries, when the attendant left Charles at the reception, Merlin started the check in procedure for Charles. He was allotted a single bed room on the fourth floor of the hotel. Charles had requested that he wanted a room from where he could view a good part of the city at the night. As Merlin finished entering all the details, she finally arrived at the personal identity section.

“Sir, as part of the hotel rules, since you are a foreign tourist, we would like to have a copy of your passport and the tourist visa.” She informed Charles.

“Oh, yes. I know. This is same in all the countries, I guess. Last time when I visited the United -kingdom of Traquasia, they did ask for the same.”

A crack formed over her forehead. “United- Kingdom of what?” she said back.

“United- Kingdom of Traquasia. It’s a heavenly country in the north Atlantic.” Charles replied back as he searched for his passport in his handbag.

“Really?” she asked in a confused state.

“Ah. Here it is.” Charles got his passport and handed over to Merlin.

Merlin immediately held the passport and walked back to her workstation to input the details. Meanwhile, Charles looked around in amazement of the beautiful foyer. It seemed like a very busy hotel to him. There were crowds of people leaving and entering the hotel. There was a total of seven reception desks and he was at desk number seven.

“Sir,” Merlin called Charles from her workstation.

A happy and excited Charles looked back towards the reception desk.

“I am sorry to say but the country from where this passport has been issued doesn’t exist on our list and for that matter it doesn’t even exist on any of the hotel lists in France.”

“Is it so?” Charles shot back and continued, “Can you check in detail. I mean I have travelled to so many other countries before but never did I get such a query.”

Merlin nodded her head and this time she walked towards her manager’s workstation.

Charles looked at her as she spoke to her manager.

A minute later, a tall and well- built middle -aged man, whose uniform batch read, Jimmy Wills, walked towards Charles along with Merlin.

“Sir, I guess we have a little issue out here,” Jimmy said looking closely at Charles.

“Really. What? Now you are also going to say that the country from where this passport was issued doesn’t exist in your records.”

“That’s a fact, sir,”

“So now what’s the solution to this mess?” Charles asked looking irritated.

“Sir, you will have to wait in our guest room while we sort out this matter.”

“Fine. Where’s the damn guest room?” Charles held his handbag and was ready to walk.

As Charles was seated inside a guest room that was subsequently locked from outside, Jimmy informed his seniors about the unusual situation. While he spoke to his seniors, he held the disputed passport in his hands.

Within no time, the issue was escalated to the government officials. Two hours later, three government officials arrived at the hotel to inquire about the unusual guest. Jimmy and Merlin met them and handed over the passport.

The head among them was a fifty -seven -year -old veteran named, Roger Lesky. As soon as he got hold of the passport and looked at the country from where it was issued, he was alarmed and excited. “No way. This isn’t happening again.” Jimmy looked at Roger and asked, “What isn’t happening again, sir?”

Roger showed him the passport and pointed towards the name of the country. “Abyss Bay”

Jimmy couldn’t get him, and said “but there’s no country by that name in the entire world.”

“Thirty years ago, a couple had visited Paris from this same country. They had been caught at one of the tourist spots and held captive for some days. When the investigating authorities went to meet them at their room where they were held, they couldn’t find them. They had disappeared.”

“Disappeared? How?”

“No one knows. No one could know.”

“So, you’re saying that this Charles is going to disappear like that couple?”

Everyone looked at each other for some seconds until Jimmy suddenly turned around and made a run. Roger along with his team followed him. In no time Jimmy pushed open the door and hurriedly ran in. Behind him Roger and his team entered the room.

All of them looked around but to no avail. Charles Anderson was long gone.

“Thirty years ago, we didn’t have a close circuit camera but today we have one,” Roger said looking at the only CCTV that hung over the corner of the room.

 In no time the entire team was standing in front of the footage that was being played.

Roger very well knew it. He had investigated it thirty years ago.

As everyone looked at the footage, all eyes were shocked and surprised to the view.

Some time ago, while the government officials entered the hotel foyer, Charles just walked towards the window of the room. A strong light appeared and Charles disappeared in that light.

“What was that?” Jimmy looked at Roger in horror.

Roger smiled and looked back at the screen and continued, “Nothing son, that boy, Charles, had wrongly entered our universe. He is from a parallel universe in a different world where everything is same as it is in here with of course some additional futuristic events already taken place there. This keeps happening.”

Roger got hold of the passport and kept it in his coat pocket. He looked at Jimmy with a smirk and continued, “We have lots of such passports in our collection, dear. You see, sometimes they lose track and enter our universe thinking it’s theirs.”

 

The Lift

 

If there was anything that irritated Aniket about coming to work it was the office tower lift. The building had four lifts, all situated three meters apart from each other. What Aniket found oddly funny about the lift were the names given them. Gold, Silver, Bronze and Platinum as if the employees needed to earn their position to use a particular lift. But that was not what was the cause of irritation for him. In spite of having four lifts, all of them were supremely busy all through the day taking a hell lot of time to reach the ground floor or the top floor. Employees would use the lift for travelling from one floor to another and another set would then get in to come down to some other floor due to which the lift would reach the ground floor after almost an age. What added to the irritation were the ones who travelled by their private cars and after parking it in the building basement would travel by lift from either, B1 or B2, the two basement car parks level.

As Aniket stood there that morning waiting for at least one lift to reach the ground floor, he looked at all four closely. Just when the bronze lift reached the ground floor, the indicator showed the downward signal. The lift would go down first and then come to the ground floor again and then proceed up.

“That would take almost an age. I can have a nap during that time.” He joked to his Colleague, Vikas.

Aniket Joshi worked in the Data Analytics department of the company as an executive. In spite of being as young as twenty-three, he had jumped from being an intern to an executive at lightning speed. With exceptional Data analytics, Microsoft excel and power point talent, Aniket had become quite famous on the floor and regularly helped people with MS Excel formulas, Macros and his latest skills on Power BI. Having worked for one and half years with the company, he enjoyed his work and the company too, except the lift though. There was hardly any hiccup for Aniket during his one and half year duration at the company but off late his new reporting manager, Brinda Parekh was giving him some tough time.

Brinda Parekh was a twenty-six-year-old ambitious girl who worked as Data Analytics- Assistant Manager. Though she was quite good at her work and had earned praise for her contribution to the team, one aspect that stood as thorn for her was Aniket. It had become quite routine for Aniket to pin point lose ends in Brinda’s files and that too in front of the entire team during meetings. He would end up suggesting better methods and formula logics to get the desired results at faster and optimum speed. His exceptional talent in Advanced Microsoft Excel often made him forget that he was talking to his seniors and this trait of his had often put him in trouble.

“Never show your reporting head as wrong to others.” His colleague Vikas would suggest to which Aniket would hardly pay any heed.

However, being immature and inexperienced had its own cost and Aniket would often pay that cost by getting in the bad books of Brinda. That week too was no different. Aniket was working on an assignment for some five days and Brinda was continuously following up for the final file. Being the perfectionist that Aniket was, he never gave incomplete files. The assignment had two parts. One was preparing a MS-Excel working file from the huge volume of data that was extracted from the operations software and subsequently preparing a dynamic Dashboard presentation that would be presented to all the heads of the Data Analytics team. The assignment was important for Aniket as that would provide him an opportunity to be exposed to all heads of his department, from senior managers to VP.

Routinely, he would reach his seat by nine thirty and Brinda would arrive by ten. In spite of working till late night, there was still some patch work to be completed with the auto dashboard file. He looked at the time and it was 09.35. The meeting was scheduled for 10 30. He realized that he would easily complete the file by 10.00 but his headache was Brinda, who would arrive at 09.45 and ask for the files to be mailed to her. She would yell on him if he replied that he was still closing the loose ends. Shrugging aside his thoughts, he continued to work on the file at rocket speed without looking up even for a second. He looked at the watch and it was 9.40. He immediately called up Vikas at his desk.

“Vikas, Listen. Go to the lift and press all the buttons from 1 to 6 of all the lifts.”

“What? Have you gone crazy? I’m not going do such crazy stuffs for you?”

“I will make you a MS- Excel expert within a month. It’s a deal. Now please proceed.”

That was quite a lucrative deal for him. Vikas had his seat near to the floor entrance. He immediately ran out to the floor lobby and pressed for the first lift. It had just arrived. It opened up and people came out of it. He entered the lift and looked towards the floor security who were busy with sorting some keys in the key block of the floor. He did as was told as he pressed the buttons of the all the floors. He immediately walked to the next lift and did the same. The other one was on the fifth floor. He gave a run to the fifth floor and just managed to reach before it was about to close. He pressed all the floor buttons again. The fourth one had left the fifth floor and was approaching the sixth floor. He immediately ran up again to the sixth floor and waited for the occupants to empty the lift and then finally concluded his part.

At the same time, on the ground floor of the building, Brinda looked at all the lifts in extreme rage.

“What the hell is going on?” she uttered to herself.

“Why are the lifts so slow today?”

She closely observed that one by one all the lifts were halting on the fifth floor and then the fourth floor. She was terribly irritated. She looked at the stairs but considering that she had to walk to the sixth floor, she kept aside the idea and waited for one of the lifts to arrive at the ground floor.

The clock on the ground floor showed 10.05 and finally the first lift, Gold, arrived. But there were too many people by now wanting to get in and Brinda couldn’t enter as the lift had surpassed maximum carrying capacity. She waited for the next one and immediately got inside. Finally at 10.15, Brinda reached her seat. There was one Power point print out on the table and a pen drive with a note on it.

“All files mailed and also stored in the pen drive and power point print out kept on your table.

 Going for a quick coffee. Will be at the meeting on time.”

At the floor cafeteria, As Vikas filled in his coffee mug, Aniket had a 360-degree smile on his face.

“What’s the smile for?” Aniket asked as he sipped his coffee.

“The building lift isn’t that bad. Is it?”

 

Copyright(c)theshortstoryblog.

The Infatuation

 

Arnab Ray was extremely punctual when it came to having his daily lunch. He firmly believed that delay in having lunch impacted the productivity of the second part of the day and it was no different on that afternoon. The digital clock on his table showed 12.30 PM and it was almost lunch time. The official lunch time for the company started at one in the afternoon but due to shortage of space in the canteen, Arnab often reached the canteen five to ten minutes earlier. Arnab, who worked as deputy manager with the Claims department, was getting ready to proceed to the canteen when the landline phone on his table rang. He looked at the number of the incoming call and was immediate to pick it. It was the Chief Manager, Claims department.

“Yes, sir.” Arnab didn’t even wait to hear from the other side.

“Arnab. Listen. There is an internal transfer in our department. Though I know we are quite full right now but considering that Sakshi would be leaving for her maternity leave within a month, I thought it would be prudent to get someone in her place. The candidate would be coming from the Operating expenses department. Please do the needful and introduce her to Sakshi.”

Post the call, Arnab quickly reached the canteen from the third floor to the second floor through the stairs as the lifts were always late during that time of the day. An hour later when he arrived back at his desk, he saw a young lady busy talking on her mobile phone standing near to his desk. He waited patiently till she finished her call. She turned around and found Arnab standing. “Yes. May I help you?” She asked in an authoritative tone. A confused Arnab was out of words for a second.

“Actually, this is my desk.”

“Oh, Sorry sir. I’m extremely sorry. My name is Jagruti shah and I am an internal transfer from the opex team. I was told to meet you at your desk but you were not here so I stood here waiting.” She uttered non-stop. She seemed embarrassed to Arnab for being ignorant.

He smiled and said, “it’s ok. No issues.”

Without wasting time, Arnab took her to Sakshi who was one of the Assistant Managers in the Claims department. The Assistant Managers sat just a row behind Arnab. They walked to Sakshi’s workstation, Jagruti following Arnab.

Seeing the reporting senior approaching towards her workstation, Sakshi halted with the work she was busy with.

“Hi Sakshi. How are you doing?”

“All fine, sir.”

“Okay. Sakshi, meet Jagruti. She would be taking your place.”

Jagruti and Sakshi exchanged formal pleasantries.

“Jagruti, Sakshi would be going on her maternity leave from the next month. So, you have to take over from her. You have one month to learn things and get sorted out. Sakshi will help you settle down and in case you face any problems, you can connect with me anytime.

Jagruti seemed a sweet young girl to Arnab, perhaps too energetic and excited to be working in such a big multinational company. She came about to be confident girl to him. And of course, she was pretty. He was impressed with her neat and sharp corporate style of dressing and her body language conveyed positivity.   Moving his attention away from her, Arnab got back to his desk leaving Sakshi to handle Jagruti.

Jagruti found that the third floor was much more peaceful and calmer than the second floor which was extremely busy at all times of the day. She observed that the third floor consisted of three departments. The Claims department, the risk management department and the outsourced Information technology team hired by the company for implementing large IT projects. Another important aspect which she noticed was the fact that there were no cabins on the third floor and the floor lighting was bright unlike the second floor where the lighting was a bit dim and natural light was more prevalent due to the cabins where the curtains were kept tied up.  She felt relaxed compared to her time at the Operating expenses team. She found Arnab sweet and very helpful. Based on the initial conversations, there seemed no attitude problems with him and he spoke rather respectfully than being overtly authoritative.

Jagruti’s new profile involved work in relation to processing of Death claim files which she received from the branches all over the country. Her primary work included checking the supporting documents as per the requirements of the Standard operating procedure manual, putting out requirements for further documents to branches and the claimants, filling up the checklist for each individual death claim file and passing it to Arnab for his review.

One month passed away at a lightning speed particularly due to the quarterly closing review. Sakshi had left for her leave and Jagruti was now on her own. Over the next few weeks, Arnab observed that Jagruti was a quick learner and a very efficient one too. On a continuous review of her work, he found that she had grasped the work given to her exceedingly well. Further, she had some great inputs to improve the overall documentation of Claim files which she conveyed to Arnab. After consulting with his senior Manager, Mr Parekh, Arnab didn’t hesitate to implement those small little changes.

During this time as they worked together on daily basis, Arnab unknowingly got infatuated to Jagruti. Being a Bachelor at the age of thirty had its weakness and Arnab was very well feeling that weakness. He wasn’t sure about the reason for his feelings. Was it her looks or was it her confidence or her positivity? He wasn’t sure at all. He started to give special attention to Jagruti. They regularly had coffee at the floor mini- cafeteria which slowly became a daily routine.

“So, Jagruti. How are you finding the Claim department?” asked Arnab one evening during their routine coffee break.

“It’s quite interesting, sir. But looking at the papers and files of people who have passed away is stressful and depressing. I don’t know how Sakshi did it.” Jagruti would regularly look into his eyes talking to him which made him a bit uncomfortable.

“I can understand. But if you look the other way, you are doing an important work of ensuring the family members get the insured amount correctly.” Arnab was always good at encouraging his junior team mates and it was no different with Jagruti.

As the days passed, they started to have lunch together with other team mates and Jagruti always sat near to Arnab and shared her food with him. Some days, she would bring his favourite Gujrati snacks from home made by her mother which Arnab would cherish for the rest of the day at his desk. Unlike earlier, Arnab had started to sit late to help Jagruti with her work. They had late sitting coffee and snacks and many a times even dinner. Some weeks later, he started to drop her home in a private cab.

By now, Arnab and Jagruti were even connected on Facebook and they chatted non-stop on Whats App. Jagruti would like and comment on every post of Arnab on social media and Arnab would reciprocate the same way. It was a surreal feeling for Arnab. He enjoyed his work much more than before and his performance too had risen when it came to meeting deadlines.

Six months passed and by now, Arnab and Jagruti performed exceedingly well along with other assistant managers. Arnab’s mind had by now presumed that they were more than colleagues, perhaps very good friends. He enjoyed the work place more than his home and on high work pressure days, he would come even on the weekends to finish off work.

A month later, Arnab again received a call from the chief manager of his department.

“Arnab. Listen. That girl, what’s her name? Yes, Jagruti. The year end closing is coming and the Finance and accounts team needs someone who has had a prior experience in operating expenses accounting to help them out so that the seniors can concentrate on other critical aspects. Why don’t you release her for two months and then she will be back to your department? “

Arnab was silent for some time. “Sir, but we have load here to close the files?”

The chief manager was silent for some time. “Arnab. I will arrange two juniors to help you out for two months. But we will have to let her go for two months. Okay. Please make the arrangements”

“And yes. Don’t tell her that this change is for two months. That will make her disinterested in the new work. Tell her that it is as a part of inter department shifting based on resource requirement.

“Right, sir.” He kept the phone down almost heartbroken.

Arnab didn’t inform Jagruti about the proposed change at office. He messaged her in the night on Whats app.

“Got a call from the chief manager. There has been a requirement in the Finance and accounts department. They have selected you to join them.” He wrote without informing that the transfer was for two months.

“Ohh.”

“From when?” she replied back rather lamely.

“Next week.”

“Okay. No issues.

“And what about the work I am handling currently?” she asked inquisitively

“Two juniors will be provided to us in your place.”

“Okay.”

They didn’t speak much that night.

Within the next three days, two juniors from the Revenue department joined Arnab. Jagruti handed over everything to the two juniors. That day, she was quiet at the coffee meeting. It was the same even during the lunch and evening snacks time. Arnab could understand her dilemma but he made her understand that it was the very way that corporates functioned.

Jagruti joined the Finance and accounts team early next week. The finance and accounts team were on the second floor. She was back on the busy floor away from the peaceful third floor. On extremely busy days, she could see people running around from one person to other. On other days, when all the cabins are occupied by the top management employees, everyone from the departmental AVP to Finance controller would be in a different and extremely serious mood as if it was the last day on earth.  As Arnab was unable see Jagruti, he sometimes went for a stroll down on the second floor and found her extremely busy.

That weekend, he messaged her on Whats App.

“Hi. How is life?”

There was a very delayed reply and that too a cold one. “Going on. A bit busy. Will catch up with you later.”

Looking at the message, he nodded his head with a smile. He didn’t reply back.

That Sunday, he put up a picture of his on Facebook wall. Generally, Jagruti would like his posts and pictures within ten to fifteen minutes after being uploaded. To his surprise that Sunday, neither there were any comments from her and nor did she click the like icon on his picture.

Weeks passed and Arnab got busy with the year-end closing. He never received any message from Jagruti. She stopped having lunch with him or his team anymore. One day, he saw her having a late lunch with the Finance and accounts department – Manager, Manav Kohli.

Though in his career of five years in Corporate, he had been through almost everything possible but what was happening with him currently was something he had never experienced. It was a new learning for him. He thought from Jagruti’s point of view and realised that there was nothing wrong with her behaviour considering that she was only twenty-five years in age. Perhaps she felt pressured or perhaps she thought that it was the way it worked in the corporate world. He felt ignored.

Shrugging aside his thoughts, he concentrated on his work along with handling the two juniors assigned to him. The year-end closing ended and Jagruti was informed by the Finance and Accounts team to move back to her previous department.

A confused Jagruti suddenly got tensed. She immediately thought about Arnab and how she would face him. All this while she had ignored him badly. That night she consulted with her friends working in other companies about her current dilemma. Everyone had a different take on the situation and it confused her more. Finally, she decided what she had to do.

Around 11.30 that night, Arnab received a message on Whats App.

“Hi, sir. How are you?”

Fifteen minutes later when Arnab looked at the message, he had a three sixty-degree smile on his face. He was waiting for this moment. He didn’t reply back and it made feel great.  He did reply but only the next morning during his travel.

“Hi, Jagruti. Good here. How are you?”

Jagruti informed him about the transfer aspect and Arnab welcomed her back. But the conversation from his side was kept strictly professional. Jagruti joined back to her position at the claims department and started to report to Arnab. Over the next few days, Jagruti observed that things had changed now. Arnab only spoke about office aspect with her and that too concerning only their department.

“Sir, coffee?” she asked one evening.

He looked silently towards her for some time and looked straight into her eyes. That look said a lot to her. She didn’t ask again and walked away alone to have coffee. They neither did have lunch together anymore. Though she enjoyed her work, but Arnab’s coldness towards her disturbed her greatly.

Finally, it was that time of the year when annual appraisals had to be done. Every reporting head had to convey the ratings for their team. Arnab had waited for this moment so badly and Jagruti somehow had to make up with Arnab to get a good rating. Both of them had different motives.

 That Friday, the rating windows on the company’s performance reporting software opened up. Arnab didn’t log in to his window until his entire team was gone for the day. Around eight in the evening, Arnab finally gave the ratings for his team. He was particularly happy to give it for Jagruti.

Jagruti didn’t have a great weekend. She was tensed and disturbed. She wanted a promotion very badly as most of her friends were promoted to the next level. She very well knew that she was childish in her behaviour. She realized her mistake but guessed that it was too late. Her nine months would almost go uncounted. She was currently at Assistant Manager level 1 and there were two levels more before she could become the Deputy Manager. She thought that the results of the rating would only be released fifteen days later and till that time she had to go with flow.

Fifteen days later, one Monday morning, when Jagruti reached office, she checked on Arnab’s desk. He wasn’t there. There was a company envelope on her desk. She opened it and was about to almost faint. It was a promotion letter from the head of department. The letter informed her that she was promoted to the Assistant Manager level 2 (AM- Level-2) which meant she will have her own team of executives to work with now. She kept her bag on the table and immediately walked to the HR department in which she had a known friend.

“Archana, can you tell how much rating I was given?”

After checking into the reports, she shot back. “Wow. Ten on ten.”

“What?” Jagruti was shocked.

“Who gave it?”

“Who else? Your reporting senior, Arnab Ray.”

Jagruti walked back searching for Arnab on the floor but she couldn’t find him. She reached her table and looked at his desk. It was still unoccupied. Arnab didn’t come back at his desk. It was clean, tidy and arranged as always. The PC and keypad were covered with a black cloth. She read her promotion letter again and felt ecstatic. While she kept the letter back in her bag, her mobile phone buzzed. It was a SMS from Arnab.

“Congratulations. You got your promotion for your work and dedication and nothing else. On the work front we both have excelled. Keep up the good work and carry on. And by the way, I have been promoted as Manager – Claims. So, you will have a new reporting head. Take care”

A second later, she received another SMS from him that got a smile on her face.

“And yes, we will keep meeting on the floor. All the best”

A smiling emoji ended the SMS and also the one-sided infatuation.