Chapter 4
The relief in the air was too palpable as the odd couple walked in.
"Jahannara...!"
"Arzoo...!"
"Salaam Aleikum!" The distraught girl was a sign of hesitancy as the matronly lady strode forward. Sahir had already gone to his room, quoting urgency of work.
"Aleikum Assalaam..." Alvira clasped her friend's daughter in her arms, "Good that you are back, my dear. I was worried sick about you!"
"Me too!" A friendly voice quipped in and Arzoo smiled at the best friend of hers. Zaki reached out to the handle of her trolley when Alvira's voice stopped him short.
"Zaki, she is not going to stay in the outhouse anymore. I have asked for a guestroom to be kept ready for her, so, see that she is comfortable there..."
Zaki's grin widened till it reached his ears. So his Jahannara was going to stay in the mansion! He could talk to her any moment...and the guest room was on the same floor as his room.
The guest room was an airy room with a double bed, an almirah, a small dressing table and a study table by the window. It was enough to house a small family and indicated luxury, as consistent with the family's reputation. The floor was lined with a rich lush carpet, so thick that one's feet sunk into it; the dressing table was requisite with the latest in the cosmetic section. Even the bedspread was of rich satin cloth and the pillows were feather light. There was a even small telephone on the side table.
"So this is your room, Jahannara..." Zaki opened the door wide for her and Arzoo strode in, wide-eyed, taking in the splendour. It was beyond her wildest imagination. So, she was going to stay here? As an honourable guest of the family? And not as a destitute, who had survived on charity so far. She turned to Zaki.
"But this is not needed, Zaki...I was quite comfortable in the outhouse!"
"Sorry, your highness. This is as per Ammi's orders!"
"But then Kurti Aapa..."
"She will continue to stay in the outhouse. Now should you need anything, please pick up the phone and someone will come running!"Zaki informed her cheerfully and left her alone after showing her the essentials of the room.
Arzoo nodded, her mind dazed from the sudden turn of events. Kurti Aapa would certainly throw a major tantrum. And Anam? Where was she? she would throw a fit and yell blue murder.
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And true to Arzoo's predictions, Kurti aapa was in the process of initiating a major psychological blackmailing session. After ascertaining that Sahir was somewhere around the corner, she adapted the posture of a person with severe backpain just in time.
"Haye Rabba..." Sahir jerked up at the unnaturally loud wail and cut his call.
"Kurti Aapa...what's the matter?" He rushed to her as she crouched in a mock show of pain.
"Sahir, my dear boy...I have reared you from childhood. I have been at the receiving end of all your tantrums and foul moods. I even shielded you from Begum at times when you didn't do your homework or refused to go to school. And this is what I get back in return?"
Sahir was confused, not for the first time in life. He could never understand a woman.
"But what's the matter, Kurti Aapa?"
"I am being relegated to the outhouse whereas some outsider is being treated as a royal guest...that intern! Who had resigned sometime back, is now back, and that too with a promotion? And this backpain of mine...do you expect an old woman like me to stay in the outhouse?"
Sahir appeared to be lost in thoughts.
Kurti Aapa waited with a bated breath, her weasely eyes darting all over the place.
"Yes, Kurti Aapa, what you say is in its proper place. An old woman like you should not be staying in the outhouse which has no facilities at all. Certainly not when you have an injured back like this. What I will do is, call our family doctor right away and get you admitted to his hospital. The special room, which he has reserved for our family. The room has AC and a TV, and you will also have a nurse at your beck and call..."
Kurti Aapa opened her mouth to say something and words failed her. Sahir stared at her intently and then strode away, the connection to the doctor established. His parting words were as dramatic as the situation preceeding the scene.
"Ok, Kurti Aapa...the ambulance will be here at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Be sure to be ready before that. And don't forget any of your personal belongings here!"
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"Hey you are back!" Linda's excited voice broke through her reverie.
Arzoo looked up slowly from the design that she had vaguely scripted. Linda, the modern stylish secretary of her boss, stood in her direct line of vision. Joe, his quiet personal assistant stood next to Linda holding a bunch of red roses. He extended them to her.
"Welcome back!"
"But why...all this?"
Joe grinned conspiratorially as he placed the flowers in a vase on her table.
"As I said, it is just a welcome gesture from all of us here!"
Arzoo was totally perplexed. This was totally unexpected. She had steeled herself to face a lot of snide comments and rumours, on her unceremonial exit and re-entry into the fashion house. She had braced herself for taunts on her being a small town girl with a small mentality. But then, this was totally unexpected. Linda and Joe were very good friends of hers, and what was surprising what the turnaround attitude of the remaining staff as well. Did that mean that they had accepted her as a family at work? Did she belong here?
Forget it all...she reprimanded herself and bent back to her work. She had a load of work to do before her tenure as an intern ended.
Work to be done? that brought on a bitter taste as a recent memory unfolded itself. She had to do what Sarfaraz had told her to do. So that her siblings and ailing mother would not be destitutes anymore. And then, what next? How long would this cat and mouse game continue? And what would happen if Sahir ever came to know of the cosy arrangement?
Allah knows, let me cross the bridge when I come to it. What maximum can the sour-puss boss do, other than sacking her? Aarzoo shrugged herself and focussed on the task at hand.
Fingers working mechanically on the piece of paper, she was so lost in her work that she missed on the fact that the office buzz had come to a complete halt. Linda busied herself behind the photocopier and Joe made himself scarce elsewhere.
Sahir had entered the office and his long legs carried him to her desk.
The only sound that could be heard was the whirring of the overhead fan and rustling of loose paper nearby. A deep voice rumbled out, shattering the silence.
"May I see those designs please?"
Arzoo jerked up noisily and then stood to attention. Gosh, was she so lost in her work that she missed the fact that the boss had entered the room?
"Yes, Sir..."
"May I see them?"
"Sure, Sir..."
Arzoo exhaled slowly as he walked off to his cabin holding the sheaf of papers in his hands. Now for the next design, Aarzoo stretched out for the pencil when she suddenly realized the need for some substenance. Gosh, it was almost 11 O'clock!
The coffee vending machine was located at the end of the corridor and as expected, was a hub of office gossip and its inevitable dissemination. And true to the time of the hour, most of the office staff was there, chatting over a cup of coffee.
Aarzoo's mind was miles away as she watched the swirling liquid froth and rise to the brim of the mug when the spout cut off the slow. She carefully grasped the mug in both her hands and halted mid-stride when she heard a particularly juicy bit of gossip.
"Hey you heard it right? Aarzoo is back!"
"Good for her! And for Saiyyara as well..."
"And did you hear about Anam Ma'm..."
"Yes! Actually I am not surprised. The way she worked here and played politics. It was bound to be noticed by Sahir Sir someday!"
"You bet! The way he fired her..."
"The last straw the broke the back of the camel was the revelation that she had copied Aarzoo's designs and claimed them to be her own...So unprofessional!"
"Poor Aarzoo...she had the guts to stand up to Anam Ma'm. And I heard that Sahir Sir himself asked her to stay back. Is it true?"
"Maybe..."
"Hey...shhh. She is around!" a vigilant voice cautioned the rest and the group hastily dispersed.
Aarzoo was surprised to the core...so that explained the absence of Anam? She had been fired? By Sahir? When? She could never forget Anam's smirking face as she left the fashion house. And how had Sahir discovered the fact that the designs were hers? No wonder he had felt guilty and attempted to retain her!
But then, he had never apologized. There was no remorse in his voice as he asked her to stay back.
Something was bothering her and she couldn't put a finger on to it.
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The next day brought on a significant event.
"Kurti Aapa, the ambulance is here" The elderly manservant of the mansion was a picture of hesitation as he approached the woman reclining on the bed.
"Haye Allah...what a news to start your day with. Ambulance? For whom?"
"Sahir Sir asked for it. He said you need some medical help!" The manservant was soon joined by a couple of orderlies and a stretcher.
"Who? Me?" The woman was out of the bed in a flash. And then she remembered, Sahir promising her the best medical care. She was about to say something when she realized that the manservant had started packing her things in a bag.
"Hey...dont touch my..." The rest of the sentence was swallowed as the orderlies positioned themselves around her and one of them grabbed her arm.
"Hey leave me..." the bleat was drowned in a solid wall of professionalism as the orderlies shepherded her towards the stretcher in a no-nonsense manner and fastened the straps. Within no time, she was on her way down to the waiting ambulance, her wails and protests not-withstanding.
Soon the ambulance was on its way and a man, watching from behind the curtains, quietly dialled a number.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Work done. Merchandise on the way!"
"Understood!"
"No holds barred in the treatment, OK?"
"As you say, Sir!" The connection was cut off. The man lowered himself into his favourite reclining chair and reminisced upon the latest happenings in his life.
The innocent intern, full of untapped talent.
The cunning woman, who sought to exploit her with the help of a conniving maid. He had to weed them out of Saiyyara, for the welfare of..
For the welfare of whom? A small smile graced his lips. Just for the welfare of one person.
He walked off his perch and walked to the window, which overlooked the outhouse.
Was she there? The office timings were yet to start. Maybe in the process of getting ready? He closed his eyes and there it was: dabbing the minimum makeup, checking in the mirror, adjusting her dupatta over the shoulders, and then the uplifting of the twin peaks of desire as she lifted her arms to comb the hair at the shoulder and beyond, all the while with a quiet humming of the latest ghazal...Gosh, what was he thinking! She had the most marvellous figure; he admitted grudgingly to himself, and then rebuked his own observations: he had always assumed that he was exempt to these worldly matters. What was wrong with him?
A scream from the corridor put an end to his thoughts.
Who was it? Didn't sound like his mother. He rushed out and collided head-on with the object of his fantasy.
"Arzoo!"
He steadied her in his arms till she caught her breath.
"Sir...Sorry...actually...there is a cockroach in my room! I just..."
Indian Idol 16
Fan Fictions
