One Night @ Excel|MJHT| CHP1 Pg6 16/3/2010 - Page 4

hi nidz caught this ff too.lol

wow dear intresting...mayank thinking abt nupur and dreaming abt nupur 😉 ..do add me in ur pm list...i hav reall almost all ur ff's i really luv mayur and yaa all ur ff's r very gud...gr8 going dear 😉 ..and yaa add me in ur pm list..will be waiting for ur update....

OMG..
i have read this book
n chetan bhagat is one of my fav writer..
do cont soon
will love to read it..!
i have read all three books of him..
omg cant wait..
plz pm me
n cont soon..!

love
Prachi

Guys pucca update for this tomorrow!! And heal me alright?

Chapter #1

I woke up as my cell phone alarm rang in my right ear and I woke up to its Last Christmas ring tone. It was a gift from Natasha, my semi-girlfriend. I blinked profusely before I looked at the time on my phone.

'8:32 p.m.' flashed on the screen.

"Crap," I muttered as I jumped out of bed.

I ran into the bathroom to freshen up before I left for work. The Qualis would be here in twenty minutes. I washed my face and saw the so called dark circles below my eyes. I was still tired and would have loved to get back to my bed, but I was getting late. And there was a serious risk of Deodhar returning to my dreams.

By the way, I'm Mayank Sharma, or Mark Samuels as they call me at my "office", Excel Call Center in Andheri West. (American's have a difficulty in pronouncing my name and prefer Mark. You can give me another name if you want, I don't care.

Anyways, I am a call center agent. There a zillion agents like me all over India. Yet, this total annoying author Nidheya Suresh asked me itself to write this book. She said she wanted me to help her write a book, because she found my story interesting. So here I am, giving it a try.

I tried explaining to her that I don't have the "required skill-set" yet. In my review Deodhar commented that I was "not a go getter".

But she forced me into writing it, so I beg you to bear with me.

The last warning I want to give you is that my English is not great- actually nothing about me is great. So if you are looking for something stylish, I suggest drop the book and look for something else. I don't know any many-syllable word except for "management" which is constantly shoved down my throat by Deodhar.

Okay. Now lets get back to my story.

There were noises in the living room. Most of my relatives were in town to attend a wedding. God knows whose wedding it was. Anyways that doesn't matter.

I got ready but couldn't find my ID card. I went all around my house looking for it.

"Mom where's my ID card?" I asked. "The Qualis is here and am getting late."

"It must be around there somewhere beta," she said.

"Mom where is this somewhere?" I asked.

"Somewhere around there," Mom muttered.

I walked past all the aunties who were searching through jewelry sprawled all over my mother's bed. One aunt complained that her golden earring was missing and the maid must have stolen it. As if the maid didn't have any better work to do. The aunties smirked at me as I passed them. I didn't do anything as this wasn't anything unusual.

I was the black sheep of the family. All my siblings and cousins had grown up to become great engineers and doctors while I was stuck as a call center agent. I had had no respect whatsoever in this family earlier, but it has grown considering the fact that I'm a salaried person.

I had been constantly harassed to find myself a job for years. Excel was my first choice for a workplace since Nupur worked there. But of course, that reason was no longer valid.

I found my id card on the dressing table of mom's room, though I can't fathom how it got there. My aunt also found her precious golden earring stuck in her fake hairbun.

The Qualis horn screamed for the fifth time and I grabbed my back-pack and ran out.

"I'm coming," I yelled, as I shut the door behind me.

"What is this Sahib, late again?" the driver asked as I sat down.

"I'm sorry, there was a rush load at my house," I said. "Military Uncle's first?"

"Yes sahib," the driver said, laughing at my house.

"Can we reach Excel by 10 p.m?" I asked.

"Depends on if your colleagues make it on time," the driver said, heading towards Military Uncle's house.

Military Uncle was the oldest among our batch. He hates us being late. I prepared myself for some dirty looks. He was 60 and I guess his tough attitude came from his years at the military. According to me he had never been born young, but was rather born at the age of 60.

His name was Omkar Nath. I don't know much about him, but I do know that he used to stay with his son and daughter-in-law until he started being too orthodox and didn't like his daughter-in-law pursuing a career and going to parties. This went on for a while until he moved out of the family, rather kicked out. He hates talking and works at the online chat and e-mail station, totally isolated from the rest of us. He rarely speaks more than two words at a time and his usual interaction with us consisted of those you-young-people glances.

We arrived at his house. He got in with the question late looking at the driver, but intending it at me. He climbed in, ignoring the middle seat and going to the back seat. He wanted to sit as far from me as possible.

We took a U-turn and went to Rajshree's house.

One of the unique facts of my team is that we not only work together, but we also share the same Qualis. Through a bit more of route planning and persuading the driver, we made sure that my Western Appliances Strategic Group, or WASG, arrived and left together. There were six of us: Military Uncle, Rajshree, Gunjan, Samrat, Nupur and me.

The Qualis arrived at Rajshree Kothari, or agent Rose Karl's house. As usual Rajshree was late.

"This Rajshree madam is too much," the driver complained. He pressed the horn continuously. I looked at my watch. I didn't want Natasha to throw a tantrum.

Six minutes later Rajshree came running towards us, holding onto her dupatta covering her head, so that it wouldn't fall down.

She muttered a zillion sorries before she took a seat in the middle row.

"What is it this time?" I asked.

"Almond milk for my mother-in-law," Rajshree said. "Took long to crush the almonds."

She pulled the dupatta off her head and relaxed. She looked very exhausted.

"Ask mother-in-law to make her own milk," I said.

"C'mon Mayank she's too old," Rajshree said. "It's the least I can do, especially since her son's not there."

"Right," I said sarcastically. "And clean the house, cooking three meals a day plus working all night...."

"Chup!" Rajshree exclaimed. "Any news on Excel? I'm scared."

"Nothing new from what Sam told me," I said. "Just the same old thing. Call volumes are running low, orders are low. Excel is doomed- it's a fact."

"Really?" Rajshree asked, her eyes wide.

Yes, it was a fact. Excel was doomed. Thanks to those posh, stylish call centers which have plenty of clients and the agents are treated royalty, Excel is going down. We have only one client- Western Computers and Appliances. And even their calls have gone down. Rumour has it that it would be closed down any day.

"You think Excel will close down? With a degree of permanency?" Rajshree asked.

"It's either going to be that or major job cuts," I said. "Ask Sam, he knows better."

"I need this job. Adi and I need to save," Rajshree said, desperately. Adi aka Aditya was Rajshree's husband. They got married after a fairytale romance of three years. She now lived with Adi's ultra-traditional parents.

The Qualis halted at Gunjan Kapoor, aka Grace Kyle. She was already waiting for us, thank God.

Gunjan entered the Qualis, the smell of her perfume hitting as soon as she sat down. She sat next to Rajshree and removed her Cashmere sweater.

"Smells nice, what is it?" Rajshree asked.

"You noticed?" Gunjan said, happily. "Cool Water by David Off.

I looked at Gunjan again. She never made a fashion mistake. She was wearing silver satin full-sleeved shirt a black mini-skirt. She wore chunky black earrings and her lipstick was dark brown as if she had just kissed a bowl of chocolate. Her eyes had either mascara, eyeliner and eye-shadow. I can't tell them apart, but Nupur told me they are three different things.

"The Roman Runway is in five months," Gunjan said. "My agent is trying to get me an assignment."

Gunjan had always wanted to be a model. She was hot, atleast according to the call center agents. A few months ago a stupid poll was conducted at the Western Computers bay. They voted for titles like hot, beautiful, smart, intelligent. Gunjan won the title of the "Hottest Chick At Excel." She brushed it off, but there has been tad bit of vanity in her after that. Rest apart, she's fine.

She moved to Mumbai from Chandigarh four years ago, against family persuasions. The job at Excel earns her a regular income but at morning she approaches various modeling agencies, looking for assignments. She had taken part in some low key fashion show in Bandra, but apart from that and the title, nothing great has happened to her. Nupur once told me, making me promise that I'd keep it to myself that she thinks that Gunjan will never make it as a real model.

Nupur says that Gunjan's too short and from a small town. But I think she's just jealous. Gunjan's just two feet lesser than me without heels and a feet taller than me with heels. Nupur wasn't even nominated for the hottest chick title. She was nominated for the "Call Center Cutie" award thanks to her constant chatter and dimples, but she didn't win it. God knows what type of judges they were. If I were a judge I would have awarded her the "Call Center BEAUTY" award.

We stopped at Sam aka Samrat Shergill's house. He was called Sam at the call center, his nickname making it easier. Sam was sitting on a bike when we arrived.

"What are you doing on the bike dude?" I asked.

"I'm going on my own," Sam said. He wore faded blue jeans along with a black shirt and brown jacket.

"It's too late," I said. "And very cold. Get in."

"Nah dude I'm too stressed out today," Sam said. "I need to drive and release all that pent-up tension."

"What happened?" I asked, craning my head through the window.

"Dad called," he said. "I don't know why they filed for divorce when they can't live without each other. They keep shouting at each other every single day."

It was true, Samrat's parents were divorced. His father was a rich businessman who found it better to go around sleeping with his secretaries than spending time with his family.

"Dude relax it's none of your business," I said.

"I feel sick dude," Sam said. "I need my energy back. And for that I need to go on a drive."

"But it's freaking cold," I muttered.

"What's wrong Sahib?" the driver asked.

"He's coming on his bike," I said.

"Mayank you come with me," Sam said. "We'll reach in half the time."

"Dude I'm not hell bent on freezing myself to death," I said. "You can go on your own."

"Suit yourself," Sam said with a smirk, starting the bike.

He zoomed past us and went to Excel. The next and last pick-up stop was that of Nupur Bhushan, or Nina Berkley.

I glanced through the window and saw Nupur hurrying down the stairs. She brushed her freshly cut hair out of her eyes. She was wearing a white Anarkali shalwar and her dupatta was placed on her right shoulder only. She smiled and a million dimples broke out. I smiled on seeing her and could feel my eyes getting moist.

She got into the Qualis and sat next to Gunjan and Rajshree. It was 9:30 p.m., still an hour away from our shift. However I was worried because Natasha usually left by 10:20.

"Hi," Nupur said, smiling. She carried a large bag along with her jhola.

"Hi," said everyone except me.

"I said hi Mayank," Nupur said.

I acted as if I didn't hear her. Ever since both of us broke-up I find it extremely difficult to speak to her. This is saying after she is the only person I think of all day.

"Mayank I said I," Nupur said. She hates it if someone doesn't respond to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Where's Sam?" Nupur asked.

"Sam's riding again," Gunjan answered.

"Nice scent Gunjan, which brand?" Nupur asked.

"Cool Water by Davidoff!" Gunjan exclaimed.

"Wow!" Nupur said. "P.O.S.H"

Both of them started giggling. That was something I never understood about Nupur. She bit***d about Gunjan a zillion times to me, but when they got together they behaved like long lost sisters.

The girls began talking about dating, guys and all those girly talks. I couldn't figure out what I was doing in the middle of their conversation. They laughed and I ought to tell you, there was nothing funny. Sam was the only one who among my team I can call a friend. He's younger than me, but I still find it easy to talk to him. Rajshree's household talks make me go mad and Gunjan's modeling dreams are a bit too far-fetched because no one's going to pay me for my looks.

Nupur was a friend, and a lot more, until she dumped me (my version) or we broke up (her version).

So now I do what she wants us to do- move on. And that's why I needed to meet Natasha as soon as possible.

Just then my SMS alert beeped.

"Whose is it?" Nupur asked.

"Mine," I said, taking out my phone.

Where are you my eddy-teddy?

Come soon- curly-wurly.

It was Natasha. She always chose such weird nicknames. I replied.

Qualis stuck in traffic

Will be there soon. -M.

"Who's it?" Gunjan asked.

"Nobody important," I said. "Service provider."

"It's Natasha isn't it?" Nupur asked.

"No," I said and everyone looked at me.

"No," I muttered.

"Oh Eddy-Teddy," Gunjan and Rajshree joked.

I ignored them and looked at my watched. 10:10, I can meet Natasha by 10:20.

"Can we stop at Harpreet for a quick snack?" Nupur asked. "We'll reach Excel by 10:30." Harpreet Dhaba was a popular joint for lorries.

"No need yaar," Rajshree said. "We'll get late."

"No we wont," Nupur said. "Driver ji has saved us time. It's on my."

"A cup of coffee will keep me awake," Gunjan said, giving in.

The driver stopped the Qualis at Harpreet Dhaba.

"Do we have to stop?" I groaned. "We will get late."

"We wont," Nupur said. "My treat come on."

She just had to do stuff to annoy me.

"He wants to date his curly-wurly," Gunjan said and they all broke into fits of laughter. What was so damn funny, I couldn't fathom.

"It's just that I want to reach my shift a few minutes early," I said, getting out of the Qualis. I smelt the scent of delicious paranthas, but I decided not to order for I didn't want to be late. We sat around a table and the girls ordered their favorite "flavors" of tea.

"No sugar in mine," Gunjan said.

"Extra hot for me," Rajshree said.

"With cardamom for me," Nupur said.

When Nupur and I used to go to college together she used to make cardamom tea for me. Guess some of her tastes still haven't changed.

"So what's the latest goss?" Nupur asked.

"No gossip. Waise what's happening in your life Miss. Bhushan?" Rajshree asked.

"Actually there is something," Nupur said, blushing.

"Kya?" Gunjan and Rajshree asked together, jumping up and down.

"It's big, I'll tell you at the bay," Nupur said.

"Tell now only naa," Gunjan pleaded.

"Later Gunjan," Nupur said firmly. "Someone's eager to get to his girlfriend."

"Waise toh there's something I want to tell you guys too," Gunjan said excitedly.

She lifted her top just above her belly button and there was a golden navel ring.

"Ooh sexy," Nupur said. "And trendy."

Military Uncle looked horrified.

"Wow a navel ring!" Rajshree exclaimed. "Did it hurt?"

"Just a bit," Gunjan said. "It's like someone stapling your stomach."

I winced at her comment and concentrated on my tea. I gulped it down in one shot and looked at them, mostly at Nupur's animated and bubbly talks. She seemed so innocent and lost in those thoughts. A strand of hair brushed against her eyes and my hands itched to push it away but I held onto it, controlling it. She pushed the hair away effortlessly, grinning happily and went back to her conversation with Gunjan and Rajshree.

She looked so beautiful in white. Her hair was left loose on her shoulders. Her eyes glistened with each word she spoke and then she grinned that perfect smile, which broke millions of dimples across her face that had made me realize I was in love with her.

She looked at me, her eyes pouring into mine. She got up from there and sat next to me. Her hands entwined with me and her eyes looked meaningfully at mine. She whispered "I love you" into my ear and I leaned into kiss her.

HONKKKKKKK

The sudden horn of a lorry brought me out of my dreams and I saw Nupur, smiling as brightly as ever, sitting next to Gunjan talking to them. I gulped and spoke-

"Guys lets leave."

"Let's go girls, or Mr. Conscientious will get upset," Nupur spoke, pressing her lips together. God I hate her.

I went to the counter to pay the bill. And guess who I saw there? Samrat Shergill himself.

"Sam?" I asked.

"Hi what are you doing here?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes of the TV.

"Girls wanted tea," I said. "You?"

"I arrived here 20 minutes earlier dude," Sam said, finally looking at me.

"Can you take me to Excel? Natasha will leave soon," I explained. "Super fast?"

His eyes were still transfixed on the TV. A reporter was speaking in front of the parliament.

"Hey I know that guy," Sam said. "He used to work at my previous job!"

"Times?" I asked.

"Yes," Sam said. "Such a looser he was. Can't believe he made it into television."

"Let's go dude Natasha will murder me," I said.

"Natasha? Oh you mean curly-wurly?" Sam teased.

"Shut up," I said. "She has to leave after this, this is my only time with her."

"On one hand you had Nupur and now you sink to Natasha levels," Sam said.

"Why? What's wrong with Natasha?" I asked.

"Nothing," Sam said. "It's just nice to have girlfriend with brains."

"Bhashan khatam ho gaye toh can we go?" I asked.

"Man why are you wasting your time with Natasha?" Sam asked.

"I need to get over Nupur," I muttered.

"So what is Natasha- a fill-in-the-blank?" Sam asked. "What happened about your plan to get Nupur back?"

"Not happening until I become team leader," I said. "Which ought to be tonight after Deodhar sees our website manual."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Sam said. "Keep dreaming."

"Can we just go already?" I asked, frustrated.

I sat behind Sam as he started the bike. We zoomed past the team at 120 km/hr. I closed my eyes half in fear and the other half in excitement. My cell phone beeped:-

Curly-Wurly is sad

Eddy-Teddy is very bad.

Me leaving in 10 min :(

I jerked myself off the bike before we had even parked properly.

"Couldn't you wait until we parked?" Sam asked, annoyed.

"Will thank you later," I screamed as I entered the Excel entrance.

End of Chapter #1

Super long update!! Please comment!!

Guys I would really appreciate comments! 🤗

was a lovely update and thanks for the pm...

hey nidhz...nice fic..just read it..