AR: Ricochet [Thread #2: Page 1/150]

Inception. n. The establishment or the starting point of something. The beginning.

She's never been able to pinpoint when it started. She likes to think of it as an undercurrent, an afterthought to everything that happened between them. Something that was always there, just a little out of reach until the day she took a leap of faith.

Maybe it was the first meeting, or maybe it was that late night coffee at a dessert bar. Maybe it was Paris. Maybe it was the way he held her. Or maybe it was none of these things and all of them, at once. She doesn't think over it too much.

But she finds it funny that she spent years building a wall (walls, really), an armor, and he destroyed every bit of it, so slowly, that she had no idea about it until one day he smiles that stupid smile and it does something to her and she is reaching out to that armor, to protect herself and she finds it gone.

Because that's what it really boils down to, doesn't it? That one look, that one smile, that one wave, that one ordinary moment that overwhelms you in ways you don't want to comprehend and you're left hiding behind whatever little of that wall you have left, but then you find yourself looking, smiling, waving back and it hits you square in the face that the walls are gone and so is the armor and your life isn't yours anymore. All because an ordinary person, no more special than you, came into your life, crawled their way in (and really, when the fcuk did that happen?) and did something stupidly, monotonously normal and you realize it then; wow, I love him.

So she's never been able to pinpoint when it started but she likes to think it started at the beginning.

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Chapter 1: Rudiments

Rudiments. N. The elementary stages of any subject.

Malik Associates, New York City, Present

She's starting to think it might be a good idea to actually open the door and go in because people are giving her looks. She figures it's a given; she has been standing there for the better part of thirty minutes, buzzing with nervous energy. Maybe she should've done a bit of research on the company before coming here. Or maybe she should just head back. She was going to plead for a contract rather than being an employee per se and really why would he adhere to anything she said? She's hardly experienced. Or exceptionally talented. Or famous. God this was a bad idea.

It's her phone that interrupts that train of thought and she feels a little bit better when she sees Muskaan's (familiar) face and a text.

You're still standing outside, aren't you? - M

How the fcuk do you know that? Are you stalking me Muski? I will never forgive you if you are because that is a whole other level, even for you. - R

Yeah yeah w/e. I'm not stalking, but answer the question. - M

I may or may not be in the periphery of the building. - R

Shut up Ridzy. And stop worrying so much, it's gonna be FINE. - M

Sure it is. - R

I mean it! STOP WORRYING SO MUCH. - M

Pot/kettle. - R

Shut the hell up, open the door and GET IN, Ridzy - M

FINE. GOING. Jesus. – R

She goes in, then and takes in everything with wide eyes. It's huge, opulent (but not over the top), metallic and those are the first things she notices. It's all grey stone, black leather and metal that glints. She feels a little out of place, she's never been to a place that is so embossed with beauty and yet so stark. Walking towards the reception she takes out her resume, and catches her reflection in the glass walls (immaculate. Thank goodness for small miracles.)

"Uh, hello; I'm Riddhima Gupta and I have an appointment with Mr. Malik at ten-thirty AM?"

"Yes, uh take a left from here and you should reach Tracy Moore's desk. She'll take you further. Have a nice day!"

She murmurs a thank you and makes her way to Tracy's desk, worry still gnawing at the back of her mind. She hates it when she's nervous, it completely obliterates her thinking and she has to fight to stay focused because this job; it's everything. She is aware of the fact that Tracy is talking to her, probably telling her about the company but her ears are buzzing, she's ridiculously tensed and hardly listening to anything the other woman says.

Calm down Riddhima. You're flawless. You're going to blow his mind. You're going to turn on that charm Rahul says you've got, and bowl him over. And he's going to hire you, give you that contract because you've got talent and everything that's happened so far is a build-up to this. Because this, is where you begin, and you're going to nail it.

The pep talk does nothing to make her feel better and all too soon she's standing in front of a black door that looms ominously over her frame (and boy she's nervous if she's waxing poetic about doors) and she hears Tracy's all the best, gives her a winning smile and then it's just her. And the huge door. She takes a deep breath, and opens it, half expecting to find a fifty year old man with a moustache.

It's safe to say that she didn't expect Adonis. Because wow her boss looks good and there goes her entire plan of charming her way into a fifty year old man's heart because this one can't be more than 27. I'm so screwed is her last thought before she steps into the office.

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Cornell University, Ithaca, USA, seven years ago

She sees Rahul, his eyes bereft and empty and bile rises in her throat. He'd turned eighteen today and it was anything but a party. They'd received a letter from their orphanage telling him that his biological parents were alive and that they (the orphanage) were legally bound not to tell Rahul anything about them until he reaches adulthood. He'd said nothing since then and she could see Muskaan get increasingly worried but she knew how it was. It'd been the two of them, just Riddhima and Rahul, their whole lives and she'd seen Rahul in tears because he wanted a family, because he wanted a father who played cricket with him, a mother who'd clean up his wounds and make him his favorite pizza when he was upset, he wanted parents, he wanted a family so bad. She remembers the whimpers, the tears, the sobbing and their twisted logic that if somehow they behaved well and they were good children maybe they'd have family one day.

It was in the night that the masks dropped and they clung to each other in part fear, part hope, always part hope because at the end of the day they were all they had and while Rahul waited for his family, Riddhima cleaned the scrapes on his knees, blowing air on them so it hurt him less and Rahul taught her football. And she thinks she shouldn't have had to deal with all that in her past, they were children and they weren't meant to cling to shreds of hope, they shouldn't have to do that. She knows though, first hand, what it feels like to be betrayed by family and she wants to cling to Rahul just like old times and have him run his fingers through her hair as they fell asleep because he was safe in a way that nothing else was, he was home. She knows and now she's seeing him go through the same and she can feel Muskaan's worried gaze hot on her back; she imagines her friend looks helpless because she knows, she knows everything and she knows that Riddhima is suffering too but here is nothing that can make it better, it's the kind of wound that heals but then a few weeks later you hurt in the same place and it pains twice as much.

The soft click of the door lets her know Muskaan's left the two of them alone and she is grateful because she knows it must have taken a lot for her to leave Rahul alone in a time like this, but she's Muskaan she may be loud and boisterous and oblivious to the most obvious things but she's also perceptive as hell and she knows that she can't help in this; she wouldn't know how. And it's not two seconds since the door's shut and she's beside Rahul, cradling him to her as he breaks down, his body racking with sobs and the continuous cries of "Why?" render her helpless, the ache in heart amplifying manifold. She manages to understand his broken speech and gathers that he was accidental, his parents hadn't planned for him and they already had a child and couldn't afford another one. And the anger thrums in her bloodstream because what kind of people are they if they leave their child like this, with nothing but an apology letter and a photograph?

She cries too; cries for her friend's loss, for the loss of a family he never knew existed, and for the fact that he has to go through this because she's been here, only it was different in her case but nevertheless, betrayal by family remains betrayal by family no matter how many variables you add to the situation. She cries because she's angry, because its university, dammit and things were supposed to be different, they were supposed to begin a new life and not have ghosts of their past lurking in the shadows.

It's almost afternoon when they shift towards the window sill and drench themselves in sunlight and neither one of them says anything until she asks him, "Are you okay?" and gives a wry grin at his what-do-you-think look.

"I didn't want to know this, Ridzy. I could've gone my entire life not knowing this. I'd wish for a family, I know I would, but I'd have one with Muskaan a few years later and I just...I don't want to know this."

The last part's a whisper but she catches it just the same and feels the familiar sting at the back of her eyes at the wild, conflicted, pained look in his eyes.

"I know."

They say nothing else, and a while later he lies down, his head in her lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

"We should call Muski in, she's worried."

"In a moment. I don't want her to see me like this."

"She's going to see through whatever act you put up Rahul, you know that."

"Humor me, please."

"Okay, but in half an hour we're calling her in, alright?"

"Yeah, okay."

She can already feel his body losing the tension, his eyelids drooping, and she whispers a quiet, "Go to sleep, Rahul, Muskaan and I will still be here when you wake up. I promise." And that does the trick; he's asleep in less than a minute.

She calls Muskaan in and smiles a little at the flask of hot chocolate in her friend's hand. The frantic worry in Muskaan's eyes is for everyone to see and it isn't until she tells her friend that Rahul will be okay, that she relaxes.

"And you? How're you doing Ridzy?"

"I'll be okay. We both will."

"If you say so. I worry about you."

"I know. Pass some of that hot chocolate here."

"Do you want to watch re-runs?"

She takes her friend into a spontaneous hug and they both giggle a bit when Rahul frowns in his sleep at the movement. And she realizes she meant it when she said they'd be okay. Because they had each other and that's more family than what most people have. And it might take weeks, months or even years, but they'll be okay in the end.

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Malik Associates, New York City, Present

"Mr. Malik? May I come in?"

He smiles warmly and she can't help but smile back and a small part of her sighs in relief. At least he's not a jerk.

"You must be Ms. Gupta. Come on in!"

"Just Riddhima, please." she says as she takes a seat.

"Okay, Just Riddhima. Call me Armaan."

She huffs a small laugh at that and that's pretty much the ice-breaker. For the first time she thinks, maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it would.

"Okay, moving on. You already cleared the first round of the interviews so congratulations, by the way. Only five candidates went through to the second round."

"Thank you so much. I'm very pleased to have this opportunity."

"You deserved it. Alright, so how do you think you can contribute to this firm, if we hire you?"

She knows it's a crucial question and also one that she was prepared for. Her answer is succinct and she doesn't downplay herself. At the same time she doesn't brag either and by the end of it, he's lost the glint in his eyes and that makes her feel like she just passed a test she didn't know she was taking. She's pleased; so far, so good.

A couple of questions later, he shows a half done design and asks her to give her suggestions on it. She likes the blueprint, it goes well with her style of designing, she changes the locales of a few doors and windows, and feels that the color scheme could be different; she prefers warmer colors. She says as much and he gives her a winning smile, and announces "Hired."

She beams at him and then wonders how to ask him about the contract, when she realizes he's talking.

"So, here's your contract, take your time and go through it over the weekend and you can sign it and post it to the office anytime you'd like. If you agree, you can start on Monday, at nine thirty am. Your working hours will be flexible, there's no requirement for you to be in the office eight hours a day or something like that. However, you will have a deadline for each project and you're expected to adhere to it. That'll be all."

She lingers for a moment and then decides to just go for it.

"Armaan?"

"Yes?"

"Instead of an employee contract, could you draft a contract that cites me as a colleague and says that you've hired me as a freelance architect?"

"Why?"

Because I have a whole lot of control issues, trust issues and more shit on my ledger than you can handle.

She doesn't say anything and he continues. "You have to understand, I'm not against doing that. There's only one problem though. If someday you stop working with my company and go solo, then you'll have the goodwill of my clientele with you and no amount of money can replace goodwill, it's priceless. So unless you have a good reason or at least something that you can bring to this company, it's the employee contract or nothing."

"I understand. I've been designing on my own since the last two years and I've mostly done suburban homes. Homes for average people, regular people. Your clientele on the other hand, is more towards the elite of the society. If you hire me, Malik Associates can expand into the suburban market, something that you haven't done yet and I don't mean to come off as proud, but I've got a little goodwill of my own."

"Fair enough. I'll get the new contract drafted by Monday, you can read it when you come here. Are you working on anything at the moment?"

"No, I'm done with all my projects for now."

"Alright so I'll hit you up with a new one, come Monday and you can read the contract and sign it if you'd like. Sound good?"

"Perfect, thank you so much."

"No worries. We look forward to having you here, Just Riddhima."

And there's a twinkle in his eyes this time and she laughs outright. Shaking his hand, she leaves the office. With a wave and an, "I'm hired!" to Tracy, she leaves the building but not before texting the two most important people in her life.

Guess who's employed??????:D - R

Nice work, Ridzy! I told you you'd be fine! - Rahul

Chak de phatte kameeni! -?M

Thanks guys! Dinner's on me tonight. - R

And don't bother me with your little girl problems till you get home, Muski! I'm going to enjoy my last weekend of unemployment, yeah? - R

Oh shut up. - M

And I want details, Ridzy. - M

I went for an interview Muski, not a date. - R

Not listening. - M

:P - R

Are we having an emoticon war? :D ;) ;P B) - M

No we're not you idiot, go back to work. - R

Fine. You suck though. -?M

I love you too, now bye.- R

Bye :P – M

ab jaldi-2 posting start karo...

congratz...

*edit*

amazing prolouge...very interestig...looking forward to your *surpriseee*

can't wait more...plz continue soon...

xoxo