Tell me how I am doing. Do it for the kittens, I implore thee.
(Cinco) New BeginningsIt had been three hours since picked up that letter, sat herself down in the quiet corner of a sports bar and starred down at Arabic writing on two sheets of paper clenched between her fists. She had waived away the waitress offering to refill the pitcher of beer which she had emptied somewhere in the midst of her existing state of limbo. One of the regular staffers had finally had enough, broke down and called the only number on her speed dial.
You could tell she was out of it when she didn't even blink at the men not so discreetly stealing the cellphone out of her purse. A normal journalist, no matter how low in the food chain, would never risk outing her sources to a stranger. So, Yager made the right call jumping into his 70's Mustang, racing to Bandra in search of a very drunk and equally delusional Madhu currently in possession of sensitive documentation.
"Madhu, let's go home". Simon stood too close to her flushing face, hands on his hips, tapping his foot lightly, internally screaming at this mess of a woman.
"Sit down Sy", was all she said. The rest of the evening went quietly, with only silent glances exchanged.
Ever since Madhu left the Broadway production's legal team or, even before that, she'd dreamed of but one thing- becoming a political correspondent. She'd applied to even big name liberal publication in hopes of joining a media team that did not package news as entertainment. After many years of trying, the best she'd gotten was a top notch talk show competing in ratings with India v. Pakistan cricket match replay. No one wonder how that didn't work out. Right, because the public values superficial sports game over real news media. So, she accepted the next best thing; the nation's leading entertainment news broadcast, going neck to neck with the oldie reporter Bittuji's gossip gig.
But the letter in Arabic held the key to long caged dreams. She'd been chosen as the screen correspondent for the Middle Eastern desk of Al Jazeera world. This was every reporter's dream job. Even the name of this publication on one's resume, no matter how menial the position, opened up a world of opportunities.
"Madhu you do realize there's English version of the letter on the other side of the page, right?"
Simon pretended to mock her out of shock.
"Way to ruin my moment Sy", she said in the most uninterested of tones. There was no sign of excitement in her words, like she imagined the first time she applied for the job, years ago.
"So, when are you leaving?"
"Who said anything about leaving? I don't even know if I am going to take the job".
Madhu didn't know what, or who was holding her back. There was no future to look forward to in Mumbai, no Rishabh to build a life with. Everything the city gave her over the years, it had eventually taken away. Maybe Doha would offer another lifeline.
"You can't be serious", said Sy. "I wasn't going to bring this up but, I see that the circumstances have changed. I was offered the role of Omar in this mega million series they're making. Although neither of us are fluent in Arabic, we know enough. We could have a shot at a life together. Won't you try it with me?"
Those few words were simple and honest yet, Madhu felt like Simon had unburdened his heart on her. Like he'd always wanted this, to be with her, but only now did he gather the courage. Like this was life giving her another chance to get away from the chaos of a city with her broken dreams. Rishabh was happy with Deepali, Bittuji beat her in the ratings game, her position in the Indian newsgroup was reaching a dead end. She'd take this new opportunity and run with it.
"Okay, I'll do it Sy but under one condition".
"Anything".
"Will you marry me?"
Edited by DonnaHarvey - 12 years ago
Shiv Shakti
