Chapter 13

Today of all days when I woke up to see the rising new sun kissing me good morning, it turned out to be the worst and stayed with me for many days to come. Whisperings of my bua and uncle arguing was enough to put me on a high alert mode. It's usual for couples to bicker and fight but then when you learn the topic of their bickering to be you, there's a difference altogether. Uncle was set on a complaining mode for forever and we were aware of that.

Mumbai caught on me like a fever. I became impatient and constantly ran against time to finish my work. It was day one and I was on my toes.

I did not wait for my bua and uncle to finish their fight. I unabashedly interrupted them and asked them to direct me to the toilet. Where houses are the size of a matchbox, how could you expect to find a toilet within the same space? For smaller mercies, I had a bathroom to take a bath inside the house, but to flush the system I had to make do with the common one.

The horror on my face when I was asked to carry a mug of water to the common bathroom was indescribable. My uncle and aunt could not understand my highhandedness. Highhandedness? How? A toilet in your own house was a bare minimum facility. I agree India suffers from a greater problem of open defecation and lack of proper toilets in impoverished colonies but this was not a village I was living in.

I had no choice and when life throws melons at you, you either suck the juice out of it or let it turn sour. I did the former and prepared myself. There was no walking or going to another floor to use the toilet. It was on the same floor just hidden smartly with no proper lighting. There was no queue and that was a much-needed relief. As much as I wanted to run away from the smelly and dingy washroom; the pressure of relieving my burdened system was my primary concern. The moment I opened the door, the waft of the never ever flushed and dirty toilet, churned whatever I had in my tummy and made me puke. The piles of human excreta in all colours were disgusting. It took me a lot of courage to suppress my system but nonetheless, I did it. Standing there any longer would have made me collapse with its non-bearable stench.

"Breakfast is ready. Why don't you quickly get dressed and join us?"

I was totally in deep shit. The mug in my hand staring at me with pity and hoping the contents in my digestive system were not repulsing my control. How I subdued the pressure is a goosebump raising story. In my moment of misery, I had a newfound respect for my bua who had been married to this house for the last three decades.

I skipped breakfast citing time issues and made a run to get ready. I wore my best kurta and jeans for my first day. Twinned it with matching bellies. I was ready to win hearts at my new workplace. I wanted to reach the office early and make use of the toilet as fast as possible. Bua had guided me well concerning the transport system in the city and how to reach the office from her place. A taxi was something I could not afford and therefore the next best option was opting for the BEST red bus.

The bus stand was nearby. The Mumbai streets were bustling with energy. I acted out the part of a girl fascinated with the charm of the city very well. I had to let a bus go. It was packed to the brim with no place for me to even breathe. I toughened myself up for the next time and boarded the bus just like a Mumbaikar. It was a twenty-minute ride standing.

I had asked the conductor to show me the stop I was to get down. He was helpful. Mumbai people are different, different from the Kolkatans I have lived with throughout my life. Mumbaikars do not care and less, if you are minding your own business while people in Kolkata often care way beyond it, is required. While I always hated the extra warmth and care then, today when I am a bundle of mess, I simply didn't mind.

As it had to be, I was in the wrong place at the right time. An elderly gentleman whom I had disturbed from the routine of cleaning his ears, helped with the much-needed intervention I sought. The office was a ten-minute walk from where I had got down. I took in the sights, especially the local places I could come to for my meals. The tall, modern structures were marvellous and made me feel small. My confidence had completely ducked by the time I reached my destination. It further took a dip when I was stopped by the guards at the entrance.

"Hello, hello. Stop! You girl, talking to you." The guard shouted.

I was completely oblivious to the security protocols. I hadn't got frisked at Jigar's office. Except for the metro, where frisking was more of a formality than a necessity.

I failed to hear him shouting but could not help notice him when he came right in front of me and asked me to stop. I was scared and shivering. I had done nothing wrong to be stopped and people walking in the building had all eyes on me.

"I am sorry, I did not hear you calling me." I squeaked.

"Where to? ID card?"

I stared at him blankly for a moment, processing the part where he expected an ID card from me.

"FMN News," I said with a small voice, "and I...which ID card?"

He suspected too from my replies I was a novice and guided.

"Any ID card you are carrying as identification proof will do. Please enter your name in the register and sign in with the correct details." I simply nodded and followed him like a lamb.

I carried out the necessary procedures and moved to the channel's office. Everything seemed to be enthralling me. The huge entrance and the lineup of the various trophies held my attention for too long. I just gazed at them reading the names of the recipients of the trophy. I always dreamt of earning an award myself someday and my trophy finding a place of honour amongst all of these. The realization of taking the first step towards fulfilling my dream was surreal. I had to break my eyes away. I dragged my feet up the staircase towards the reception area. I promised myself a better peek at those awards some other time.

The immaculately dressed receptionists were a far cry from the friendly and polite ones I had encountered so far. I was hesitant and felt really awkward to go and talk to them. What if I croaked and goofed up? It took me a lot more courage than required to go up to the smiling lady in an orange blazer and ask for directions to my workstation.

"Hi, I am here to meet Rasika Deshpande."

"May I know your good name?"

I rolled my eyes at her for uttering a grammatically wrong question. Indians have a bad habit of translating their native language literally to English, the result is just cringe-worthy.

"Abhilasha Bhayani"

"Please have a seat, I will inform Rasika."

I nodded my head in agreement. I plopped myself on a plush couch in the waiting area. The reception area was huge, vibrant and colourful. The other channel offices of the same group too seemed to be housed in the same building. The wall above the reception was decorated with the logos of all the channels under the banner. I read through all of them. Took me a few minutes. The wait was going to be long. Another wall was decorated with numerous clocks showcasing the time of different cities in the world. This in particular was fascinating, I was studying the time when my body too hit the press button announcing the right time to use the loo. For the first few minutes, I controlled my system, not wanting to embarrass myself by asking a silly question. When I could hold myself in semblance no longer, I walked up to her and asked her to show me the way to the loo. She obliged politely.

Once I had relieved my system I felt much at ease and confident about the interview. I walked out with my head held high, only to find a beautiful girl occupying the place I had been sitting on. I smiled at her timidly when our eyes met. She was dressed to the T. I didn't feel like she was here for work, it felt she had arrived at the office for a party. In a short orange dress, which grazed to her knee, a statement black belt cinched at her waist and black pumps, she looked confident in her slender and curvaceous body. I admired her. Her nude makeup accentuated her features in the right way and her painted nude lips would make for a perfect pout for a wonderful selfie. I occupied a seat beside her. She greeted me gracefully and so did I (not sure about the gracefulness on my side). She was called inside immediately, perhaps that spoke of the confidence and the right attitude at the workplace. I was sure she would clinch the deal for whatever she had turned up. I waited to be called in for my interview desperately, wanting to get over as soon as possible. In those few minutes of waiting, I had imagined numerous possible questions I would be asked and the most probable answers to them. Only if life was simple and could be predicted easily then things could have been perfect.

When I was asked to go in, the receptionist gave me precise directions that would lead me to Rasika. Rasika greeted me and guided me to the cabin of the Editor, Rohit Shetty. The office wasn't very big but modest. It was made of see-through glass and one could see the numerous cubicles around. Many were empty but the ones at the back were dotted with people who had their heads to their computer screens. At the end of the office was a room where I could see something being shot. My curiosity got the better of me and instead of stepping into the editor's room, I stepped further away to check out what was being done there. I rammed into a fat muscled mass.

"I am sorry," and that came out of my mouth instinctively.

The polite man just smiled and asked me to be careful with my steps and opened the door towards the editor's room.

"Good morning, Sir," I spoke as soon as I walked in.

He greeted me rather amicably and politely offered me a seat opposite to him. He asked me to share my portfolio to which I readily obliged. He made small enquiries about my college, semester projects, work experience and stuff. The real business came down to the answer I was so waiting to hear.

"I am sorry Abhilasha but there is no vacancy for any more interns. All the spots have been occupied."

My world started spinning the moment I heard those words. I could barely register the excuses he offered after that. When I came back to my senses he was still speaking.

"I know you have an excellent recommendation from Jaideep, but believe me my hands are tied with no openings. You can come back after two months and we would hire you. By that time some of the interns would have left to continue their classes."

What could I say to this man? He wasn't aware of my fight to reach Mumbai. The meagre amount in my pocket had helped me in continuing to live my dream. Two months waiting period would mean going back home and never seeing the light of the day. I controlled my sobs and my eyes that could outpour themselves any minute.

I shook hands with him and took a last look at the office that I had been hoping to call my own for a few months. I was out and when the fresh air hit me, I could no longer control the sobs that I had stifled. It escaped immediately and so did the downpour from my eyes. My legs were heavy as lead and I could barely move them. I was afraid if I would be able to carry myself to the bus stop. The guard looked at my messy, runny face and took pity on me. Perhaps thinking if only he hadn't troubled me in the morning, I would have had a much better start to the day in office. But he did not know that he wasn't the cause of my misery.

I picked up my phone and dialled the number I always did when in distress.

"Jigar," I howled inconsolably.

He let me cry for a few minutes and gain a little bit of composure to talk in coherence with him.

"Can you speak now?" He asked me with friendly concern.

A small, "hmm", escaped my mouth.

"Now without crying explain to me what has upset you?"

"There are no vacancies at FMN. The editor asked me to wait for two months to join them for the internship."

"Shit," I could feel he was panic-stricken just like me.

"I told you not to go to Mumbai. But when do you ever listen to me?"

I had no energy to fight or retort even if I did, I was not going to get any satisfaction out of it. I let him rebuke me for close to ten minutes.

"You can't trust Jaideep. Of all the people you asked for a favour from, was that prick."

"He is your father." That's all I could say in his defence. For the first time, I saw Jigar losing his cool over his dad's actions. There had been many things that had upset him but he wasn't very vocal about it. He internalized all his frustrations and rejections unlike me who would spit it out at the first person available and in all cases, it was always Jigar for me.

"Can I call you back? Let me try and fix this for once."

"What will I do, Jigar?"

"We'll figure it out. Just don't lose hope and trust me."

"I do. Will, I ever call you if I didn't?"

I knew a small smile sat on his face when he heard my words. I could always feel Jigar's moods and reactions.

I disconnected the phone with the hope that Jigar would work out a solution before the worst decision would have to be taken. I slowly started walking towards home which was still not my home or even a house where I had taken refuge.