Chapter 7
"What the heck...the design was just here!" Sahir muttered to himself before checking the floor below her table. Maybe the draught had blown it away? Then he remembered, he had placed it secured with a paperweight.
That meant only one thing. Something that he dreaded and never imagined that would exist in Saiyyara. He had to investigate it quietly.
His mood had further taken a nosedive when he heard spontaneous laughter from the dinner table. Zaki had quoted something hilarious about one of his girlfriends eliciting giggles from Aarzoo. Alvira's demeanour was entirely maternal, proudly strutting around her brood that included Aarzoo. Even Aarif, who had been serving, had not missed the joke and was smiling. The laughter had abruptly abated as the diners caught sight of him.
"Sahir, my child, come for dinner..." Alvira stood up as Aarif hurriedly schooled his features and laid out the cutlery.
"Not hungry, Ammi. Can I just have some soup please?"
Alvira cast a glance at his retreating back and sighed. This one of hers...was a class apart. A workalcoholic, who cared for the entire family, at times even ignoring his own basic needs. Did he even have a proper lunch? He had left early that day after a Spartan breakfast. Well, it was high time she had to find that someone who would look after him, share his life, his world.
His soulmate.
A loud coughing followed by choking from the table distracted her. Aarzoo was bent over and Zaki was thumping her back rigourously in an effort to dislodge the offending article. Alvira hurried over with a glass of water, which was accepted with a thankful smile.
"Take care. My child...You have to go a long way!"
------
The hooded figure crept on the road hugging the shadows.
It was impossible to make out the details, so well was the camouflage. But a man loitering around a tree in the dead of the night straightened up as the shadowy figure approached him.
"Here is what you asked for..."
Sarfaraz extended a hand and a paper was thrust in his hand wordlessly.
"What is this? No pattern...only random lines! Are you sure that this is a design?"
"Well, that's what Sahir Sir told Aarzoo. And a good one at that. Now, can I leave?"
"Sure...and thanks" the shadowy figure dissolved in the shadows and Sarfaraz stole a quick look at the paper.
It was a mess of lines and curves, as a child would scribble something unintelligible. "Ohh these artists and designers...when will I ever understand their logic? Assuming it exists..." Sarfaraz muttered something to the effect under his breath as he deftly pocketed the paper. He would present it to his masters the next day. Would they be pleased? He was having a severe doubt in that direction.
------
The Tant-Bant-Santh art gallery was a high profile gallery in the bustling megapolis. Besides playing a host to the creations by accomplished designers, the gallery also served as a launching centre for wannabe's, who could showcase their designs at a token price. Designs placed here were appreciated and critiqued by a wide audience, celebrities and other designers. Any recommendation was very valuable and taken very seriously.
Apart from the amateurs, the gallery was also frequented by well known acclaimed designers, forever on the lookout for fresh talent and designs. Talent which was innate, one which could not be had through any amount of formal training...well, who could predict the amount of raw talent that was hidden somewhere?
Sahir was one of the frequent visitors to the gallery on a fateful day when his competitor had issued a special invite to him.
"I am hosting an exhibition of my latest designs. Sending you a special invitation...No, don't cite lack of time. Just see my designs, Sahir...and then comment!" Still smarting at the sharp taunt, he was perusing the designs displayed in the gallery when a particular one caught his eye.
How was this possible?
Could it be a coincidence? No...he went over the design with a trained eye. The same lines, thining and broadening, the same point wherein the trace broke, only to continue again, the same notch when the pencil had taken an abrupt turn.
It was the same design that had gone missing from Aarzoo's desk.
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Another call sealed the fate of the person who had made it.
The call was received with alarm and fear, the recipient rushing out of the house an hour later in the dead of the night.
"Assalam Aleikum. How are you, my dear?"
"Cut the formalities. What do you want now? More designs?"
"Now that's what I like. Comes straight to the point, a feisty fighter..."
"I said cut the formalities!" The patience was indeed wearing thin.
"I wanted to pass on this to you. As promised earlier!"
"Thanks! And don't hope for a receipt!"
"Not needed, my dear..." Sarfaraz was speaking in the air. Aarzoo had already left, the bundle carefully concealed in her dupatta.
There is this thing about coincidences: they are never planned and neither predicted, true to the name. But the impact is huge and equally unpredictable.
The change in the body language on receipt of the phone call, the sudden dash to the outside as well as the uneventful quick return was not missed by someone in the house. He decided to keep an eye on Aarzoo. Something was wrong.
Another coincidence occurred a few days later.
"Aarzoo! Your mobile is ringing!" Zaki called out from the dining area. The family was at breakfast and Aarzoo was trying out her hand in cooking something new.
"Zaki, can you please answer it for me? I am tied up now!"
"Ok, Your highness! A nice return gift for trying out your recipe!"
"You bet!" The shout from the kitchen was equally loud and Alvira rolled her eyes at that. These two were like two spoilt brats who enjoyed a very good rapport with each other. Almost like twins? They were quite close in their ages as well.
Zaki, on the other hand, shook himself free from the laughter mode as he reached her room. Aarzoo's mobile had quietened down by now and blinked with an incoming message. The message read as follows:
Tried to call you, but no response. Looks like you are busy.
Received money order of Rs 1 lakh just now.
Thanks for that, nice to know that you are doing so well at Saiyyara.
Will pay off the debts soon and let you know.
Blessings from Ammi
Zaki froze at the message. Aarzoo had sent 1 lakh to Nausheen Khala? The amount was several times her stipend at Saiyyara. Where did she get the money from?
---------
Sahir's fingertips were an inch from the design when a hand clamped on his shoulder.
"Hey Sahir! Welcome to the show. As I see, enjoying my designs?"
It was Rehman, his competitor who had hosted the exhibition. He smiled an uneasy smile.
"Well, they are fine, as always..."
"And this one, is a master piece. Don't you agree?"
"Of course.." Nothing in Sahir's expression gave away the tremendous turmoil within.
"There are many more like this. Care to have a look?" Rehman's secretary handed over a sleek file to him and withdrew silently.
Each flipping page of the catalogue only served to boost the turmoil further. These were all created by Aarzoo at Saiyyara. What were they doing here? Unless Aarzoo herself had...
"So, Sahir, I have the most talented designers working for me. Don't you agree?"
"Of course..."
Sahir excused himself shortly thereafter, claiming exigiency of work.
He was fuming inwardly during the ride back home. Initially he just had an inkling, about a possible traitor in his organization, but now he was sure.
Was Aarzoo the one? NO! But all the evidence pointed to her. All the designs in the catalogue were her creations! His mind conjured up a vicious picture.
Aarzoo passing on all her creations to someone else.
A revenge for her insult at Saiyyara? Or was it the lure of money? Or something else? Something hard hit his forehead and he realized that the car had come to an emergency halt.
"What the hell..."
"Saab, a cat crossed the path..." The driver, a superstitious fellow, explained with a sheepish face. Was this a coincidence?
"Ok, let's move on..."
Fortunately logic returned as soon as the feline reached the safety of the footpath. Sahir lapsed deep in thought, going back to the fateful day when Aarzoo had given him the abstract design.
Aarzoo had retired early. He himself had asked her to go and take rest. Then he had left the design on her table. That ruled out her and all the people who left the premises before her.
He had received a phone call from a collaborator sometime then and clearly remembered eyeing the design during the call. So, whatever had happened had happened after that.
But the other designs...how to account for them? Nobody carried their work outside the premises of Saiyyara, except the marketing team. Even that needed to be logged in.
So who was the rotten egg? Aarzoo alone couldn't have done it. Unless she was in cahoots with someone in the marketing team. Yes, that was it. It was so clear now.
"Sir?" His reverie broke at an urgent call from his driver. They had arrived back at Saiyyara.
Sahir walked into his office with his brain on an overdrive.
A plan formed in his mind...
-----
A couple of blocks away, eager trembling fingers dialled a number outside India. As usual, the call was received by the second ring.
"Assalam Waleikum!"
"Waleikum. What is it?" The voice was like a whiplash.
"First consignment delivered!"
"Good! Anything else?"
"Ma'm...the stakes have gone up considerably. So..."
"Understood. Don't worry on that count. Any expenditure can be justified, as long as it is used to destroy Sahir..."
"Allah Haafiz!"
"Allah Haafiz!" the connection was broken. Sarfaraz looked at the mobile and smiled. Yes, the stakes had gone up considerably. There was this new mistress of his, who had recently upped her price. And he had to pay that without being discovered by Farah.
---------
The meeting was a sudden one, unscheduled and it took everyone by surprise. The conference room at Saiyyara, where the meeting was planned was a host to a constant buzz as the inmates discussed in hushed tones, their scribble pads and pencils on the ready.
"Hey...what's it all about?"
"Dunno...thought you would know?"
"Big expectation. Sahir Sir himself called for it!"
"Why? What's the agenda?"
"Maybe a new contract? A new collaboration?"
"Another week of slaving off..."
"Ssshhh. He is coming!"
The buzz died down abruptly as Sahir entered the meeting room, followed by Linda.
The silence in the room was total and you could only hear the whirring of the over head fan. Sahir looked around, assessing everyone before adjusting the sheaf of papers in his hand.
"Friends and colleagues,
I am faced with a challenge here. As you all know, Saiyyara is a premium fashion house driven by a single value of innovation and originality. The value that goes hand in hand with integrity to one self and the profession in general. And the hard work of so many years has paid off, with collaborations, both in the country and abroad..."
Sahir paused at this point, his eyes locked on Aarzoo.
"Recently a new collaborator has walked in. He needs designs from us. Not a daunting task, really, only the volume of work is huge. He needs about 1000 designs upfront, in a week's time, so that a deal can be signed, a deal which will take us to a destiny far beyond our wildest dreams"
Sahir fidgeted with his tie for a while and continued.
"Friends, the only catch is: the designs have to be original. This collaborator has international connections and can make out in a single glance that a design has been plagiarised from elsewhere. And that will spell doom for Saiyyara. Do I have you all with me here?"
The audience nodded, unsure and nervous. They could clearly see the future of 24*7 work. Sahir continued, unmindful of the restlessness of the audience.
"So friends, let's get cracking at this one. And don't worry, I will also be there, slogging off amongst you all. My personal reputation is at stake: so I won't be taking any chances at all. I have assigned you all to teams with clear cut responsibilities. So one team will make the design, another team will filter the good designs from the bad designs, handing them both to me. I will assess them further. The marketing team will then catalogue the designs handed over by me for handing over to the collaborator, along with the pricing support. Is that clear?"
The audience shook their heads in unison.
"So, let's get cracking!" He stood up to indicate that the meeting was over. The audience also stood up wearily, mentally calculating the future move and quietly trooped back to their desks.
And that set the tone for the week. The team worked 24*7 hours, got small breaks in between for refreshing walks and catnaps. Sahir worked along with them round the clock and ensured that the teams were fed well, took frequent breaks to avoid a burnout. He personally encouraged them while pushing them to the extreme, at the end of the day carefully evaluating each design with a tactful feedback. The marketing team also worked on a parallel track, waiting for each design to come from Sahir and then cataloguing it for pricing. Finally each design was filed along with its catalogue number.
And the results were as expected at the end of the week: the requisite number of designs was ready and Sahir personally addressed his team in his room.
"OK, team...we have achieved the target. Now take a week off! Fully paid vacation..." Sahir announced with a smile, brandishing the file and keeping it in his locker. This was responded with a loud cheer by the team at Saiyyara, indeed, they had come a long way since the meeting a week ago.
Sahir watched them all go with a small knowing smile on his face. If only they knew the truth...but the deception was necessary for the well being of Saiyyara.
---------
It was quiet as the clock struck 12 nearby; it was deathly quiet in the absence of any air or movement otherwise. The park was empty save for a lone person on the bench.
Impossible to predict its gender as well as age, the well garbed shadowy figure was seated alone, apparently waiting for someone. The wait was soon over as a man strolled over to the bench and lit a cigarette.
"What is it?"
"I have something for you. It surpasses all the previous efforts!" The shadowy figure wordlessly handed over a huge catalogue of designs to the man.
"This is huge..." The man's eyes gleamed in delight. "Aarzoo made all these?"
"Most of them!"
"Most of them? Not all?"
"No...actually there was a target given and a team was working on it. These designs are meant to be passed on to a collaborator, so I took the file out...If you feel fit, these can be photocopied and you can hand them over..."
"Oh I see...but the people whom I work for want the originals!"
"No problem. You can take the originals, I will give the replace the file with the photocopy. And I am sure nobody at Saiyyara would be able to make out the difference!"
Sarfaraz smiled his usual oily smile.
"Good. Here is the money for you..." A small hand hastily pocketed the wad of notes. Now to photocopy the file and replace the original with the photocopy...seemed like a piece of cake.
-------
There was a new spring to Sarfaraz's step that day. He was sure of one thing. His Master would not only appreciate the designs, but also reward him handsomely on top of his regular commission. The file in his briefcase was the original one compiled at Saiyyara.
Bubbling inwardly, he handed over the file to his Master. And then he wished that he wouldn't have done that.
Rehman cast a look at the contents and went deathly pale.
"These are the designs?"
"Yes!" Sarfaraz smirked. Rehman looked ready to explode.
"These are designs? You oaf, nincompoop...is that what I pay you for?"
"What is wrong with them?" Sarfaraz squinted at the contents of the file and wished immediately that he hadn't spoken.
Rehman exploded, flinging the contents of the file over his face. The next thing Sarfaraz knew was that Rehman had him by the collar, his face only inches away.
"Listen, you ***, these designs are not worth even two pennies. The paper would fetch a little more with the scrap dealer, but then that's about it. Please get out of this place!"
Sarfaraz bleated, a sound that resembled something like that of an ass in labour. Rehman stared at him for a while in utter contempt, pushed him away and continued in a silky tone.
"Before you leave, please note that I have paid you enough advance to last a lifetime. Now you pay it back or else..."
"Or else?"
"Part with your kidney. Maybe both...There is plenty of demand!"
-------
Saiyyara was as silent as a tomb, even the watchman had been given an off given the past week's exigency. The figure from the park crept in slowly aided by the backlight of her mobile.
The figure tested the main door and found it open.
What a security lapse...' the person muttered inaudibly, as the door swung open, makes my job easy...'
Yes, the job had been utmost easy. The file had been photocopied in no time, the photocopies housed in an identical folder. Well, almost. A few things stood out, but who would notice something trivial like that?
The figure located Sahir's cabin with little ease and reached the locker within no time. Hidden in the shadows, the figure bent to keep the photocopied file back in the locker and froze.
The lights came on.
Sahir stood in the doorway along with Linda and Joe.
------
"Bhai, I need to tell you something..." Zaki burst in unceremoniously.
It was the early hours of morning when Sahir had come back to his room, totally drained out emotionally. The interrogation had been concluded efficiently with a confession and a dismissal.
"What is it now, Zaki? Do you need to tell me about your new girlfriend?"
"Oh come on Bhai. You know I am far better than that! Anyways, I wanted to show you something, which I am sure you would like to know!"
Sahir smiled a tired smile.
"Ok, Shoot!"
Zaki began to talk. He began with his discovery of Aarzoo's midnight caper, the changed body language and then, the discovery of the message from Nausheen Khala. At one point, Sahir leaned forward to interrupt.
"But then, could you find out where she got that money from?"
Zaki looked uncertain. "Well Bhai, I thought of asking her directly. But then...better for you to know all these things and decide on a further action to take...so..." His voice trailed away.
Sahir stood up decisively.
"Well, Zaki, leave some things to me. All that you have told me fits in perfectly. Just do one thing, keep her under your eye. And if she rushes out again like that, just message me"
"Should I follow her? Or even interrupt her?"
"No. I just need to know the person whom she meets. He is possibly blackmailing her... I may be wrong, this might be even be an innocent meeting between two friends. So for the moment...just keep it low. As it is, I don't want any harm to befall her!"
"What's that supposed to mean, Bhai? Who would want to harm her?"
"Don't know yet, Zaki. It's just a gut feeling that she may be in danger!"
---------
Sarfaraz was fuming quietly. He had somehow collected his wits and made an unceremonious departure from Rehman's office. Once clearly out of danger, he had dialled a number which had gone unanswered even after a couple of rings.
What the hell...why is the phone switched off?' Sarfaraz had no way of knowing that the number he was trying to call was no longer valid anymore. Ok, let me try after sometime...' His bewilderment had turned into anxiety by the time he had reached home. And then this anxiety had transformed into fury towards Aarzoo, the main culprit behind the fiasco.
That nerve of a girl...how dare she trick him like that? Feeding him wrong designs and all that. Well, he would teach her a lesson or two, something that she would never forget.
He fished out a mobile and keyed in a message.
Meet me tonight. Usual place and time.
The family was at dinner when the message was received.
The effect on the receiver was quite electric. Aarzoo was in the process of drinking water when the soft ping from her mobile alerted her of the incoming message. And she did the mistake of reading the message before swallowing the last mouthful.
"Hey...take care!" was all that Zaki could muster before Aarzoo choked violently, spraying him with the contents of her oral cavity. Alvira aunty rushed over in alarm as Aarzoo doubled over, the paroxysm of coughing racking her slender frame.
"Easy, now...relax. Here, have a glass of water. And Zaki, go and clean yourself, preferably have a quick shower!" Alvira aunty commanded and Zaki obliged gladly. What nobody noticed was that Zaki quietly picked up Aarzoo's mobile before leaving the room.
-------
The street outside Niyamat house was deathly quiet at that hour.
The man waited in the shadows, shuffling his feet with ill-disguised exasperation. He stole a glance at the mansion from time to time, intermittently glancing at his watch, swearing under this breath.
"How long will she take...can't she realize that it is well past the given hour?"
A mosquito droned near his ear, he squashed it away with a practised hand. The monologous swearing continued unabated.
What the hell...why is she taking so much time. Hell, doesn't she realize the value of time? Ahh, there she is...in a veil this time? Fine, so that she is not recognizable...' his mutterings came to an end as he registered the slight movement at the mansion gate.
The veiled woman walked quietly to the cove where the man waited.
"What is it now?"
The insolence brought on a fresh surge of fury in the man.
"Look who is talking. Why did you give me those bad designs? All substandard. Made by you! and because of that, I had to suffer..."
"Substandard?"
"Yes. And I had to suffer for your incompetence!"
"Good for you!"
"What?"
"I just created the design. Whether good or bad is an individual's subjective concern!"
Sarfaraz's patience snapped at this. He grabbed her arm.
"Listen, you two timing b****. Don't act smart and don't even think of playing games with me. OK? Otherwise...you won't even know what hit you!"
Aarzoo's eyes spat fire as she tried to open his grip on her forearm.
"I don't know what you are talking about. First leave me: You are hurting!"
"This is nothing. If you don't..." his threat was cut midway as a powerful torch switched on, blinding both of them almost instantaneously. The voice behind the beam was quite chilling.
"Now that's a bad way of treating a woman. Why don't you talk to me instead, Sarfaraz?"
It was Sahir.
-----
Dawn was slowly breaking over the rooftops.
Niyamat house was slowly stirring from its slumber, the servants of the house busy in the kitchen with the first coffee of the day for the master.
The master of the house was reclining on his favourite chair, sleep eluding his being as his mind strayed to the happenings of the past hour or so.
Zaki had been prompt in messaging him. And he had stationed himself at the appropriate place before the crafty Sarfaraz showed up.
He had stared in complete disbelief as Aarzoo had broken down. The disbelief which had turned to a cold fury at the ruthlessness of the plan. And this creep was her father!
"Sir, I swear...this is all I know. I did all this for my Ammi, Sir..."
The wily Sarfaraz had walked away with a smirk, claiming that he had not broken any law.
Sahir had released him reluctantly, contempt dripping all over his voice.
"Ok, Go. And remember one thing. If ever seen in these premises again, I will personally ensure that you never walk on your feet again!"
Aarzoo had expressed her desire to resign and return back to Lucknow. He had offered her a choice.
"At least finish your training. Then I will certify you as interned with me, that will help you get a job somewhere else..."
She had thought it over and wiped her face.
"Fine, Sir. I have one more month to go. After that..."
They had walked home after that, occasionally stealing glances at each other. She had retired to her room and he had returned to his, only to be denied the solitude of the last few hours of the night.
The silence in the room was total, save for the occasional creak of the reclining chair as its occupant rocked to and fro in his restlessness.
One month. That's all he had. After that he may never see her again.
The frequency of the creak increased as each passing thought launched him into a greater turmoil. Why was he feeling so restless? She was just an intern at the end of the day. Not the first, nor the last one. Yes, she was exceptionally talented, so what? She had got the best training at Saiyyara. Fine, after a month, she would leave for her hometown, get a better job. His recommendation would work wonders. And then, even get married and move on in her personal life...
There was a soft knock on the door and the creaking came to an abrupt halt.
"Saab, Coffee..." He nodded to the table and the servant placed the cup there and withdrew.
He picked up the cup absent-mindedly and then jerked awake. The cup was different. The words painted on the mug scrambled out to meet his eye.
Meeting you was fate, befriending you was a choice.
But falling in love with you was my destiny...
