Chapter 6
"What took you so long to respond to the phone?"
"I...I was in another room..." Aarzoo stuttered a reply. No matter how many times one would remind the self to be tough with this uncaring man; the blood ties somehow weakened the resolve at the opportune moment. And then there was her family to think of.
What were they doing? Her sisters would be in the bed. Little Myra would have folded her king size spectacles and placed them at their usual place, lest she had to search in the morning; Zara would have carefully cleaned her face of all the makeup she would have work during the day. Dadi would be snoring away, a peaceful expression on her face. Ammi would be praying to Allah, her last Namaz of the day...Praying for the welfare of the family which included even the low-life. Aarzoo never ceased to be amazed at her mother's tenacity; despite all the hardships that the rogue husband of hers had heaped on her, she was a forgiving figure. They have had countless arguments in the past and her mother had always relented with one single justification.
He is my husband at the end of the day, my dear...'
Sarfaraz coughed at the other end and Aarzoo snapped back to reality, steeling herself.
"What is it you want? And at this time of the night?"
Sarfaraz smirked at the other side.
"Hope you haven't forgotten your end of the bargain?"
"No, I haven't. Now come to the point!"
"Meet me at the gate right now. I am waiting!"
"You are...what?"
"Looks like you have got wax in your ears. I said I am waiting at the gate of Niyamat house!"
Aarzoo hung up without a reply and wiped away the moisture that had accumulated on her cheeks out of nowhere. She had to be tough.
She swung her legs to the ground and her searching toes found her slippers somehow. Cursing herself under her breath, she picked up her dupatta and wrapped it around herself, wishing sincerely if it would cloak her into invisibility.
How she wished it would have been true...
Peeping in the corridor, she found it empty. Exhaling slowly, she tiptoed out of the house.
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A few rooms away, a man lay awake.
The view was typically haunting. Even more daunting was the task to focus on what was being said, even while a part of the brain continued to register and analyse the view.
Did she know the effect she had on him? Sahir was not a saint when it came to women. And there was no dearth of the ever willing girls either, who would ruffle his hair, or smoothen his shirt crease or even share his bed. And all of them so far failed to rouse that streak in him: None of them stirred him to the soul.
And this girl...crazy, bumbling village lass who had never seen the world outside...A girl so naive, so innocent and yet so talented, was causing him a restless night? What did she have in her to be so special? One could easily pass her off as a village bumpkin, given her language and her clothes, which were so sartorial. His friends would have laughed it off.
"Oh Come on, Sahir...She is just a village girl. Surely you have had better?"
Having better? What nonsense. She was unique in the conventional sense too. The large doe eyes, capable of a myriad of emotions, the straight aquiline nose, a wide sensual mouth bordered by the perfect pout, all just natural... were all made that way. Nothing touched by the artificial world of cosmetics or plastic surgery. And when she smiled...the full lips parting over the perfect pearly rows just drove him further crazy. She was just ethereal...from somewhere beyond? Unable to contain his thoughts further, he crept to his writing table and pulled out a blank sheet.
A few minutes later, the subject of his thoughts was captured in black and white. He held up the paper and squinted at it against the light of the moon, subconsciously talking to himself.
Who are you?'
Why are you here?'
Why don't you let me sleep?'
Your image haunts me everywhere. Why?'
This restlessness is so strange. Does it mean something to me?'
The curtains fluttered in the cool breeze and he went to the window to close them.
His gaze took in the full moon and the surroundings bathed in pure moonshine. He was about to lock the window when he saw someone familiar at the gate.
Aarzoo! What was she doing there?
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Sometime ago, Aarzoo had crept up to the lone waiting figure in the shadows.
"Yes, Sarfaraz Sahib?"
"Hey...my dear girl, no Assalaam Waleikum and so on...?"
"Because I don't intend to invoke Allah's blessings for a person like you!"
"But I am your father! Don't I deserve that much respect?"
"No!"
"What?"
"Now you have got wax in your ears. Come straight to the point. What is it that you want?"
"Well...I want Saiyyara's designs...the original ones, and they can come only from you. You will hand over a photocopy to me before you submit it to Sahir!"
"But we are checked before we leave the premises. How do I explain myself then?"
Sarfaraz was quiet for some time, his vily brain working overtime.
"Ok, do one thing. Leave the photocopies on your table, in the trash tray. Rest I will take care!"
"But even the photocopies are counted. We have to log each and every copy!"
"Ok, don't photocopy. Leave the originals on your table!"
"And then what would you do? Arrange for someone to flick them?"
Sarfaraz smiled his oily smile.
"Don't worry on that count, My dear. There are enough people working in Saiyyara who would do the job for me!"
Aarzoo was taken aback for a while. Did that mean...Sarfaraz had planted someone in Saiyyara? Who? The plan was too audacious for one. Second, if ever Sahir found out...all hell would break loose. Sahir was a distant boss, well noted for his professionalism. He was quite stoic generally, and when he got angry...the entire Saiyyara trembled like a leaf in the storm. She had seen it once earlier and wouldn't like to be the cause for it under any circumstances.
But this way...when someone else would do the dirty work? She felt reasonably safe.
Better not to know than know it half way. She nodded cautiously.
"Is that all?
"Yes. That is all. And please collect a payment from me on the 7th of every month, for your Ammi..."
Arzoo turned and walked away from him as fast as she could. She was not interested in the money, but for the sake of her Ammi she decided to accept the sum. She would mail the amount to her mother at the earliest.
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"Jahanara? What is she doing out in the open? And that too in this hour?"
Zaki stared from his bedroom window to the lone figure in the courtyard below. Like Sahir, he hadn't been able to sleep and had sauntered to the window for some cool breeze. From the top, though the face wasn't visible, but the dupatta and the tell-tale body language had left little space for doubt.
He crept out quietly and was just in time to see her return back to her room.
What did that mean? She was returning from somewhere? At this time of the hour?
She didn't seem to have gone for a midnight walk.
Did she have a visitor?
Yes! That was the only viable option. In that case, the security guard at the gate would have known. Zaki crept cautiously to the gate and stared in dismay.
The guard had dozed off. The time in his watch read 2 AM.
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Next day brought on a new set of challenges with it. Arzoo found herself bereft of all concentration as the conversation with Sarfaraz played in her mind.
Who was the plant? Did she know the person? For how long had this person been there? Was there more than one?
"Hey...what's eating you?" Aarzoo looked up, startled to the smiling face of Linda.
"Nothing...just thinking!" She nodded distractedly, "Why do you ask?"
"I have been watching you since morning. You have been just drawing something aimlessly. And the result is here!"
Aarzoo looked at the paper, it was just a maze of something non-descript, lines and curves that thinned and then thickened as the pencil curved. Nothing made sense...was it a reflection of her life so far? Abandoned by her father at a tender age of 6, when her youngest sister Myra was born, she had seen her Ammi toil in a fashion house to make ends meet. The owner of the fashion house had recognized her talent quite early and sponsored her education leading to a course in fashion design. But that was not enough, and Aarzoo had realized it pretty early in life.
To make it big in the world outside, a person needed something else than talent.
The power of a brand, or in short, the power of a name.
And experience to go with it. Experience which no formal degree could account for.
Her thoughts were broken by Linda, once again.
"You seem disturbed. Anything I can do to help?"
Aarzoo shrugged her indifference. But Linda could be quite persistent.
"How about coffee? It's time for a break!"
"Ok..."
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The coffee vending machine was the usual centre for all gossip, a place where the designers and interns let down their hair and relaxed for a while. The topics of discussions ranged from the latest in the fashion market to the weather to the current mood pattern of their boss.
Aarzoo was quite preoccupied to notice the discussion that day.
The coffee cup was soon full to the brim and the machine switched off the flow. Aarzoo picked up her cup and made her way to the periphery of the crowd. She just wanted some solitude of her own.
But it was not to be. Linda had followed her, her own cup balanced precariously on her palm.
"Hi Linda...how are things going today?"
Linda turned around to the voice. A height of just about 5 feet, even when stretched to the maximum, and a lean body build which would tip the scales at 40 kgs, the girl had a mean and hungry look around her. She was the marketing intern who had joined recently through campus recruitment straight from the B school.
"Hi Zeenat...settled down?"
"Oh yes. Only one thing I couldn't fathom so far..."
"And that is...?"
"Sahir Sir. I just can't read him! A frown on his forehead has me quaking in my shoes. Next moment he smiles and I go weak in my knees..."
Linda patted Zeenat's shoulder sympathetically.
"Don't worry, you are not the only one. I have been here for the past 5 yrs, and I still can't predict his behaviour. But remember, he is a very fair person, a professional to the core. So just listen to what he says and you would be fine!"
"Ok, as you say...But still...You know, why is he still single?"
Linda tut-tutted at this query.
"Another thing. He dislikes any infringement in his personal domain. So be careful. And don't even think of poking your nose in his private life. A single glance can obliterate you..."
Zeenat was obviously taken aback. But she recovered fast and changed tack, turning to the third person in the group.
"And this is..."
"This is Aarzoo, an intern in the designer section..."
"Hi Aarzoo...I heard a lot about you..."
"And what all have you heard?" Aarzoo ignored Zeenat's outstretched hand.
"Nothing much, just small talk here. Just that you resigned and almost quit this place, and Sir himself persuaded you to come back. Moreover, you stay in his house...so much that you are almost considered family!"
"Well, Yes, I stay in his house because his mother and my mother are very close friends. Nothing beyond that. And I am not family. And now, if you haven't noticed, we need to go back to our desks, the coffee break is over!"
"Hey but...wait!"Zeenat's voice reverberated in the empty space around her. Aarzoo had already left alongwith Linda.
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Sahir was also restless.
He leaned back in his chair, fingering the paper that Aarzoo had just submitted.
It was a fine design. Something that could be symbolised as pure randomness, a difficult feat to achieve when one was in a normal frame of mind. Something that Prof Anderson had said, almost a decade ago, refreshed itself in his memory.
Be careful, Sahir. The human brain always tries to do pattern recognition when confronted with empty virgin space. And that is where the cognitive theory fails to understand the human intellect! It is next to impossible to create a 100% random pattern in the natural domain...
What he held in his hand was such a fine creation. And the girl hadn't realized its value yet. A small smile graced his lips. But then, that was typically her. She didn't know her own value. He looked across the office to her desk.
She was staring in space, lost. Was something bothering her? Aarzoo was never so unproductive at work. He quietly tiptoed to her, the latest design in his hand.
"Ms Aarzoo.."
The effect was quite startling. Aarzoo stood up hastily, recruiting her attention to order.
"S...Sir?"
"You made this?"
"Sir...I...I am sorry. Sir, today is not my best day, Sir..." Aarzoo was a picture of apology which was not needed at that point of time. He smiled sympathetically.
"Ms Aarzoo, you are suffering from an early burnout. Why don't you take the day off and rest for a while? By tomorrow you will be fine and back to normal..."
"Ok, Sir..."
"And this is a very fine creation..." Aarzoo's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. Surely this was a joke?
"Wh..what? this one?"
Sahir smiled indulgently.
"Yes, a very fine creation. If we could print this in tussar and add some sequins here and there...this could make a masterpiece! To frame and hang on a wall..."
Now that was a clear taunt. Saiyyara never dealt in wall hangings.
Aarzoo gaped at him in total confusion as he stared straight at her. What was he up to? Was something being conveyed to her? His eyes seemed to peep directly into her soul. Could he read her? Did he...did he know about her treachery? She lowered her eyes quickly and gathered her bag.
"Ok, Sir...I think I will go home now"
"Sure...have a good night's sleep!" She didn't react to that and left quietly.
Sahir placed the design carefully on her table secured by a paperweight, unaware of the fact that someone else in the room had carefully noted the entire conversation.
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The day passed on without any further incidence.
Sahir yawned, stretching himself to his full extent and shut down the laptop. Gosh...what a day. His collaborators were insatiable, asking for more and more designs, and he was driving his designers on full throttle. Many of his collaborators had asked him for the designs, ones which were created by Aarzoo...Some of them had even given a down payment for them.
Yes, she was highly talented and he certainly knew how to market it. Should she be made the face of Saiyyara? Something like the USP? But first things first, he needed her permission to do so.
Making a mental note to himself, he picked up the grip as he decided to wind up for the day. Casting a final retreating eye on the now empty office, he froze as his gaze swept across Aarzoo's table.
The design was gone.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
