ASRvsKKG

Arnav Singh Raizada walked out of his New York office. He was fuming in anger. The proposal he had sent to one of Mumbai's top fashion companies had been rejected. His proposal had been rejected.

Khoobsoorat was a new fashion name, spreading fire through the world with its different and innovative fashion statements. They had an odd mixture between western and Indian clothing, catering specifically to young women.

Arnav Singh Raizada had no interest in fashion itself, and usually left the fashion sector of AR to his cousin, Akash or more recently his sister, Anjali. So, when Anjali had approached her brother, suggesting that AR Fashions should collaborate with Khoobsoorat to launch a new fashion line, Arnav had jumped at his sisters words, almost instantly sending out a personalised proposal to the head of the company.

For two weeks he had sat waiting for a response from the company. Yes, they were in popular demand, but no where near the calibre of AR Fashions. So being left hanging for two weeks was unimaginable. Arnav sent out his force to find where the head of Khoobsoorat was based, and discovering that it was New York, he had caught the next flight to New York, wondering why there was a delay in Khoobsoorat's acceptance of his proposal. Most fashion companies would jump at the opportunity to work with AR Fashions.

However upon entering his New York office, Arnav Singh Raizada was confronted with a letter that he had never in his wildest dreams expected to receive from any company – let alone Khoobsoorat.

Dear Mr. Raizada,

Khoobsoorat is greatly honoured by your request at collaborating a new range of clothing, however our company is still considering its options, and at this stage does not feel that a collaboration is required. We look forward to perhaps working with you in the future.

Sincerely,

Khoobsoorat

Never since he had begun AR had Arnav Singh Raizada received such a generic response, let alone to a proposal that he himself had made and sent. Arnav Singh Raizada was fuming, and for once in his life he was at a slight loss as to what his next step of action should be.

"Ya Aman. Talk to me." Arnav barked into the phone.

"Sir, our associates called up Khoobsoorat to enquire as to why our proposal was rejected, but they refused to disclose the reason, citing that their boss felt it was an incorrect decision for them to collaborate with AR Fashions at this stage."

"What rubbish. Get me answers Aman."

"I tried sir, but they aren't relenting any information. What should our next step of action be?"

Arnav sighed, looking up and down the busy New York street, searching for an answer, "Organise a meeting with me and the head of Khoobsoorat."

"Yes sir."

"Today."

"T-Today sir? It's already 4pm." Aman meekly said.

"I don't give a -" Arnav took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Get it done." He hung up the phone, not bothering to wait for a response. Arnav Singh Raizada did what he wanted, when he wanted, and no one would stop him from speaking to the head of Khoobsoorat today and finding out just why his proposal had been rejected.

His phone buzzed again, and Arnav picked it up, "Yes Di."

"Chote, did you sign the deal?" Anjali excitedly asked, and Arnav's heart sank slightly. He'd do anything for his Di, and if that meant signing this deal, then he would do it. Anjali had not had an easy few months, but since she had started working on the collaboration, a brightness had appeared in her attitude, and Arnav would do anything to keep that smile on his Di's face.

"Not yet Di. But don't worry, I'll have the deal signed by the end of the day." Arnav confidently said.

"Okay Chote. Have you had your medicine?"

"Yes Di." Arnav paused as the familiar beeping sound of another call sounded through his mobile, "I'll call you later Di. Aman's trying to reach me on the other line. Ya Aman."

"I've managed to set up a meeting for you sir… she said to be at Khoobsoorat in ten minutes. She can give you twenty minutes of her time." Aman said.

Arnav fumed at the audacity, but after a few calming breaths, he accepted it, stepping into his car and speeding off towards the Khoobsoorat office, "Tell me about the head of Khoobsoorat."

Aman hesitated, "I don't know much about her sir. She's new, and I haven-"

"What the-" Arnav swore, "You're sending me in blind? How am I supposed to target his weakness?"

"It's a girl sir." Aman corrected, "She sounds to be fairly young." Aman filled Arnav in on the few insignificant details he knew about the girl – she was new to the firm and that she had most probably gained the job from high connections.

Arnav Singh Raizada walked into Khoobsoorat, turning heads as he did so – but this was not news to Arnav, for wherever Arnav Singh Raizada went, girls and media followed. "Arnav Singh Raizada. I have a meeting with the head of Khoobsoorat."

"Just a moment sir, please have a seat." The receptionist said, causing Arnav's blood to boil. He had to wait like a commoner. How disgusting.

After what felt like an hour, but in fact had barely been a minute, Arnav stood up, approaching the receptionist with anger filled eyes that would cause Mohammad Ali to cower with fear, "Tell her to speed it up. I'm not accustomed to waiting."

The receptionist, who was on the phone to none other than the head of Khoobsoorat at that moment, gulped with fear, "Maam?" She asked into the phone. She nodded at Arnav, "Follow me."

Arnav was led down the hallway to an elevator, which then sped up to the top floor. The receptionist pointed to the only door in that room. It frosted glass, and Arnav could barely make out the figure of a woman standing behind the desk. He knocked on the door.

"Come in." A clear voice sounded out. Arnav entered the cabin to find the woman facing away from him and to the view of Central Park that her window offered her, "You know they say patience is a virtue Mr. Raizada."

"Patience is an excuse for people who can't achieve their goals." Arnav retorted.

The woman turned, her hair flipping over her shoulder. She stood there, in a black pencil skirt, a short sleaved white blouse, and black heels. A file was in her hand, which she dropped to the neat desk in front of her, walking towards the young man in front of her. She held out her hand, ready to shake his.

"Khushi Kumari Gupta – head of Khoobsoorat."

~~

What do you think? Please let me know if I should continue or not, and if the story line is interesting.