Posted:
Hi Friends,
Keeping in mind the promo, wherein Sahir asks Arzoo to prove that she has talent, I just penned down a short FF (Fast forward Scene) This can be continued further, if you all like it. Entirely based on my imagination, this is a work of fiction and any resemblence to any other event or character or serial is purely coincidental.
So, here goes...
Index:
Chapter 1 Pg 1
Chapter 2 Pg 6
Chapter 3 pg 12
Chapter 4 Pg 16
Chapter 5 pg 20
Chapter 6 pg 23
Chapter 7 pg 26
Chapter 8 pg 28
Keeping in mind the promo, wherein Sahir asks Arzoo to prove that she has talent, I just penned down a short FF (Fast forward Scene) This can be continued further, if you all like it. Entirely based on my imagination, this is a work of fiction and any resemblence to any other event or character or serial is purely coincidental.
So, here goes...
Index:
Chapter 1 Pg 1
Chapter 2 Pg 6
Chapter 3 pg 12
Chapter 4 Pg 16
Chapter 5 pg 20
Chapter 6 pg 23
Chapter 7 pg 26
Chapter 8 pg 28
Chapter 9 pg 31
--------------
"Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together, for this is the latest from Saiyyara..."
The professional voice of Sahir Azeem Choudhary, the CEO of the premier fashion house was curt and proper. The media representatives in the audience refreshed on their attendance and craned their necks for a better view.
Sahir's hand deftly unveiled the designs and the collective gasps were quite unanimous.
"Wow..."
"Awesome..."
"Leader in the market..."
"Absolutely creative. How does he do it? I couldn't ever have thought about it..."
Sahir smiled to himself. So at last...He had something to look forward to. Though one of the country's premier fashion houses, resting on one's laurels was something that he couldn't afford. Not yet, and not so soon in the future too. He remembered something that his mentor had drilled in him when he was a student.
And miles to go before I sleep...'
His wooden features relaxed to resemble a smile as he remembered the Prim Dr Anderson pointing out the nuances of aesthetics and design. Sahir was one of his favourite student and soon the relation between the two had turned into that of a mentor and the mentee.
And then came Saiyyara. Built from a seed capital provided by his Ammi, his hard work and sheer professionalism had ensured that the turnover multiplied many times over the seed capital within a couple of years. He looked around, his team was still basking in the praise and admiration. He shifted his gaze further and focussed on the woman sitting prominently near the dais.
Anam Choudhary, his sister-in law.
Anam smiled an oily smile on meeting his eye; this was beyond her wildest comprehension. The response from the media was overwhelming and she could almost see herself in a steering role of the fashion house. Of course, these were the designs provided by her and she hoped that Sahir would revise his opinion about her; hopefully it was already on the mend.
Someone in the audience started clapping and Sahir jerked up in that direction.
Silence descended and people turned to locate the source of the sound.
"Congratulations, Sir!" It was the new intern. Sahir's brow puckered into a frown and the mask was back in place. What was she trying to do? Didn't she have a little of professional etiquette? What a perfect time to commit professional suicide, he thought ruefully and something caught his attention.
Anam was staring fixedly at the clapping intern.
All blood had drained from her face.
Something was wrong. Sahir couldn't put a finger on to it.
He would think about it later. First things first, he locked his jaw and strode to the intern.
"Yes, Ms Arzoo? You need to say something?"
Arzoo Nausheen Khan, a fresh graduate, interning in the fashion house, trembled a bit and nodded. This was not a time to back off. Taunted as a small town girl with a low horizon and even lower moral standards, she had persistently sought to better the impression. Keeping a low profile at the workplace, speaking only when spoken to, she had slogged day and night to create a set of designs that would impress the wooden faced sour-puss boss.
Well, almost. She was shocked beyond comprehension when the boss unveiled the collection. Those were the same designs that she had visualized!
Sahir cleared his throat and she snapped back to reality.
"Yes Ms Arzoo?"
"I...I was just saying congratulations, Sir...those are my designs!" Sahir angrily cut her statement with a curt wave of hand. A few reporters had sauntered to the scene and were eagerly lapping on the information being broadcasted for free.
"Your designs?"
"Yes, Sir...I made them! They are my creation!"
The silence in the room was crackling and sizzling with tension. A few reporters switched on their tape recorders; a few scribbled hastily in their notebooks.
"And next, you would say that someone stole them?" Anam smirked and Arzoo nodded in enthusiasm which could be termed as juvenile at this point of time. The next response was quite predictable.
"And you are saying that I was the person who stole them? Now Sahir, this is the height of things. Next you will hear her saying that I..." Anam waved her manicured hand in space, only to be silenced by a glare from Sahir. The glare was redirected back immediately.
"Sir, I...only meant to say..." Her statement was rudely interrupted by a reporter, who thrust a microphone at her face.
"Please Ms Arzoo...now make your statement. You mean to say, the designs showcased by Mr Sahir Chaudhary are yours?"
Arzoo swallowed hard, painfully aware that she had bitten off more than she could chew. The reporter persisted, as in tune with her profession.
"Please, Ms Arzoo...we are waiting for your statement. This could make the front page news. The CEO of Saiyyara accused of cheating! Sahir Azeem Chaudhary! Of all the people...Wow!
Now this was all that Sahir could take. To be needled this way, in the presence of the world's media was not done. At least not in his world wherein reputation mattered more than one's life.
"I think that is enough!" Sahir bellowed at the top of his voice and the world fell silent around him. He whirled to the reporter, his face a couple of inches from hers.
"She is just an intern at Saiyyara. It is understood that all her creations belong to Saiyyara, don't they? That is a first document they sign after joining!"
"But I didn't sign any such document!" The words were out of her mouth before she could realize their significance.
Sahir looked at her with utter disbelief.
Anam looked around, extremely unsure of her own fate.
The reporter looked like the cat that had swallowed a bowl full of cream. Now this was a certain scoop and she could almost visualize her promotion.
The deadlock was broken by a growl from Sahir.
"Ms Arzoo, could you please see me in my office? And everyone here, thank you for coming here. Hope you all enjoyed the evening. And now, if you please...we have plenty of miscommunications to sort out. The party is over!"
----------
If Arzoo had imagined this to be the end of things, she was mightily off the track.
She meekly followed Sahir to his office and stood with her head bowed as he settled behind his desk.
"Now, Ms Arzoo...what were you set to prove out there?"
So typical of Sahir Chaudhary. No preamble, straight to the point communication.
"Sir, I just wanted to say that the designs were my creation and..."
The banging of the fist on the table top cut her sentence short.
"Enough! If the designs were yours, how did they reach Anam? Do you mean to suggest that Anam had stolen them?"
"I...I don't know, Sir..."
"Well, then let me tell you something that I know. For one, you are a petty-minded, unprofessional person, who has been imposed on me. Right from the day one, I have been just tolerating you only because...because of Ammi. She feels that you are an exceptionally talented designer. But so far, I haven't seen any such thing. The only consistent thing about you is that you get into trouble without any effort on your part. Including throwing things at people and then spending a night in j..."
"Enough, Sir!" Arzoo's voice cut him short. Tears threatened to spill over and she angrily brushed them away. She drew herself to her full height, squared her shoulders and faced her boss, who stared back unfazed.
"Sir please...do not talk about my professionalism or my origins. Right from day 1, I have been targeted for reasons beyond my understanding. Is it only because I am from a small town? Or not a snappy dresser the way you expect your staff to be? Agreed, I might have committed blunders, but then they were not intentional and that certainly doesn't mean that I have a deficiency somewhere in the professional domain..."
Tears flowed freely now and she once again brushed them away.
"I cannot tolerate any accusation on my character or even morality. My Ammi has taught me one thing: Never to give nonsense and neither to take it. And I am certainly not going to be a mute witness to some immoral politics of the office either..."
She paused for a breath and Sahir shrugged his indifference.
"I am quitting this job right now. I cannot stand it anymore...I wanted to grow in my career, but certainly not at the cost of my values. Allaah Haafiz!"
The silence in the room was deafening, punctuated by the abrupt sound of the door banging as Arzoo ran out of the room, oblivious to the stares of people outside.
Anam walked in a bit later and approached the man reclining in the chair.
"So, Sahir, didn't I tell you the same thing about her? A small town girl, with the dreams of making it big, manipulates your Ammi into bringing her to Mumbai. And then what? given all the opportunities to work at a premium fashion house like Saiyyara, throws it away? Good that she has left...a crass girl of loose morals..
Sahir looked up and she swallowed the rest of the sentence. His eyes were blank!
--------------
"Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together, for this is the latest from Saiyyara..."
The professional voice of Sahir Azeem Choudhary, the CEO of the premier fashion house was curt and proper. The media representatives in the audience refreshed on their attendance and craned their necks for a better view.
Sahir's hand deftly unveiled the designs and the collective gasps were quite unanimous.
"Wow..."
"Awesome..."
"Leader in the market..."
"Absolutely creative. How does he do it? I couldn't ever have thought about it..."
Sahir smiled to himself. So at last...He had something to look forward to. Though one of the country's premier fashion houses, resting on one's laurels was something that he couldn't afford. Not yet, and not so soon in the future too. He remembered something that his mentor had drilled in him when he was a student.
And miles to go before I sleep...'
His wooden features relaxed to resemble a smile as he remembered the Prim Dr Anderson pointing out the nuances of aesthetics and design. Sahir was one of his favourite student and soon the relation between the two had turned into that of a mentor and the mentee.
And then came Saiyyara. Built from a seed capital provided by his Ammi, his hard work and sheer professionalism had ensured that the turnover multiplied many times over the seed capital within a couple of years. He looked around, his team was still basking in the praise and admiration. He shifted his gaze further and focussed on the woman sitting prominently near the dais.
Anam Choudhary, his sister-in law.
Anam smiled an oily smile on meeting his eye; this was beyond her wildest comprehension. The response from the media was overwhelming and she could almost see herself in a steering role of the fashion house. Of course, these were the designs provided by her and she hoped that Sahir would revise his opinion about her; hopefully it was already on the mend.
Someone in the audience started clapping and Sahir jerked up in that direction.
Silence descended and people turned to locate the source of the sound.
"Congratulations, Sir!" It was the new intern. Sahir's brow puckered into a frown and the mask was back in place. What was she trying to do? Didn't she have a little of professional etiquette? What a perfect time to commit professional suicide, he thought ruefully and something caught his attention.
Anam was staring fixedly at the clapping intern.
All blood had drained from her face.
Something was wrong. Sahir couldn't put a finger on to it.
He would think about it later. First things first, he locked his jaw and strode to the intern.
"Yes, Ms Arzoo? You need to say something?"
Arzoo Nausheen Khan, a fresh graduate, interning in the fashion house, trembled a bit and nodded. This was not a time to back off. Taunted as a small town girl with a low horizon and even lower moral standards, she had persistently sought to better the impression. Keeping a low profile at the workplace, speaking only when spoken to, she had slogged day and night to create a set of designs that would impress the wooden faced sour-puss boss.
Well, almost. She was shocked beyond comprehension when the boss unveiled the collection. Those were the same designs that she had visualized!
Sahir cleared his throat and she snapped back to reality.
"Yes Ms Arzoo?"
"I...I was just saying congratulations, Sir...those are my designs!" Sahir angrily cut her statement with a curt wave of hand. A few reporters had sauntered to the scene and were eagerly lapping on the information being broadcasted for free.
"Your designs?"
"Yes, Sir...I made them! They are my creation!"
The silence in the room was crackling and sizzling with tension. A few reporters switched on their tape recorders; a few scribbled hastily in their notebooks.
"And next, you would say that someone stole them?" Anam smirked and Arzoo nodded in enthusiasm which could be termed as juvenile at this point of time. The next response was quite predictable.
"And you are saying that I was the person who stole them? Now Sahir, this is the height of things. Next you will hear her saying that I..." Anam waved her manicured hand in space, only to be silenced by a glare from Sahir. The glare was redirected back immediately.
"Sir, I...only meant to say..." Her statement was rudely interrupted by a reporter, who thrust a microphone at her face.
"Please Ms Arzoo...now make your statement. You mean to say, the designs showcased by Mr Sahir Chaudhary are yours?"
Arzoo swallowed hard, painfully aware that she had bitten off more than she could chew. The reporter persisted, as in tune with her profession.
"Please, Ms Arzoo...we are waiting for your statement. This could make the front page news. The CEO of Saiyyara accused of cheating! Sahir Azeem Chaudhary! Of all the people...Wow!
Now this was all that Sahir could take. To be needled this way, in the presence of the world's media was not done. At least not in his world wherein reputation mattered more than one's life.
"I think that is enough!" Sahir bellowed at the top of his voice and the world fell silent around him. He whirled to the reporter, his face a couple of inches from hers.
"She is just an intern at Saiyyara. It is understood that all her creations belong to Saiyyara, don't they? That is a first document they sign after joining!"
"But I didn't sign any such document!" The words were out of her mouth before she could realize their significance.
Sahir looked at her with utter disbelief.
Anam looked around, extremely unsure of her own fate.
The reporter looked like the cat that had swallowed a bowl full of cream. Now this was a certain scoop and she could almost visualize her promotion.
The deadlock was broken by a growl from Sahir.
"Ms Arzoo, could you please see me in my office? And everyone here, thank you for coming here. Hope you all enjoyed the evening. And now, if you please...we have plenty of miscommunications to sort out. The party is over!"
----------
If Arzoo had imagined this to be the end of things, she was mightily off the track.
She meekly followed Sahir to his office and stood with her head bowed as he settled behind his desk.
"Now, Ms Arzoo...what were you set to prove out there?"
So typical of Sahir Chaudhary. No preamble, straight to the point communication.
"Sir, I just wanted to say that the designs were my creation and..."
The banging of the fist on the table top cut her sentence short.
"Enough! If the designs were yours, how did they reach Anam? Do you mean to suggest that Anam had stolen them?"
"I...I don't know, Sir..."
"Well, then let me tell you something that I know. For one, you are a petty-minded, unprofessional person, who has been imposed on me. Right from the day one, I have been just tolerating you only because...because of Ammi. She feels that you are an exceptionally talented designer. But so far, I haven't seen any such thing. The only consistent thing about you is that you get into trouble without any effort on your part. Including throwing things at people and then spending a night in j..."
"Enough, Sir!" Arzoo's voice cut him short. Tears threatened to spill over and she angrily brushed them away. She drew herself to her full height, squared her shoulders and faced her boss, who stared back unfazed.
"Sir please...do not talk about my professionalism or my origins. Right from day 1, I have been targeted for reasons beyond my understanding. Is it only because I am from a small town? Or not a snappy dresser the way you expect your staff to be? Agreed, I might have committed blunders, but then they were not intentional and that certainly doesn't mean that I have a deficiency somewhere in the professional domain..."
Tears flowed freely now and she once again brushed them away.
"I cannot tolerate any accusation on my character or even morality. My Ammi has taught me one thing: Never to give nonsense and neither to take it. And I am certainly not going to be a mute witness to some immoral politics of the office either..."
She paused for a breath and Sahir shrugged his indifference.
"I am quitting this job right now. I cannot stand it anymore...I wanted to grow in my career, but certainly not at the cost of my values. Allaah Haafiz!"
The silence in the room was deafening, punctuated by the abrupt sound of the door banging as Arzoo ran out of the room, oblivious to the stares of people outside.
Anam walked in a bit later and approached the man reclining in the chair.
"So, Sahir, didn't I tell you the same thing about her? A small town girl, with the dreams of making it big, manipulates your Ammi into bringing her to Mumbai. And then what? given all the opportunities to work at a premium fashion house like Saiyyara, throws it away? Good that she has left...a crass girl of loose morals..
Sahir looked up and she swallowed the rest of the sentence. His eyes were blank!
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
Cricket
Kundali Bhagya
