The Passengers: Story #3
Its impossible to fit twenty five people in a 900 sq ft office space! But there were very few options in the market so where ever one could fit their tiny arse, the better. The toilets were stinking and the pantry smelled like farts. It was nowhere near the ideal job Samir Mehra imagined. He entered the chaos at nine and wasn't excited. He walked past his colleagues without making eye contact. He was not ready for social engagements just yet. The peon brought him his morning tea which tasted better than his expectations. Everyone told him that it was career suicide but nobody even for once mentioned the nice tea. There wasn't much room for optimism but at brief, very brief moments it would deviate him from the ongoing atrocities of his life and focus on the "elementary intrusion" if not a proper job. He didn't make the effort to know anybody at the office. He would be there everyday at nine, deal with the clients and leave by five thirty. What he gathered with the least interactions that he was one of the oldest. Every else around him had the energy of a seven year old. If this was a decade ago, he would have loved to work in this environment. Sadly, his age petrified him earlier than he imagined. At thirty eight, Samir Mehra was losing his career's grip. If only he just avoided that stupid mistake.
On Wednesdays, there were special unavoidable engagements planned. Apparently, the office at 14, Rajdoot Marg was very much concerned about their employees mental well being. A private counselling session was held for every employee on Wednesdays. Samir missed his session during the first week. When the enthusiastic HR representative, Raj, made way to his table and politely asked him to corporate with the exercise. Samir made a beginner's excuse. Now, he had no excuse to miss it for the second time. He went inside the little cubical that was allotted to the visiting counsellor. To his surprise it was better than any of the spaces outside. It had a mini fridge and a television screen. A young woman entered the room. Her hair were made in a bun, she held a clip board in her right hand and pen in the other. She sat on the chair opposite to him. She looked him the eyes and said nothing. Samir thought it was his queue to say something.
'I am Samir, I joined a week ago'
The woman stared at him more intently. She wrote something on the paper attached to her clip board. Finally, she put it down and exchanged pleasantries. She started to ask the routine questions. How's his job? Is he comfortable? What does he think about the people? When it came to the question of his colleagues he bluntly replied that he hadn't talked to any of them. She pursed her lips and took the clip board again. She asked personal questions about his sex life, his love life and his family, which in a very diplomatic tone she said he could answer only if was comfortable. He dodged the question about his love life but hinted how sexually unsatisfied he was. After fifteen minutes they wrapped the session. Later that day, Raj came to his desk asking Samir why he had missed his session again. Samir was confused and told Raj that he did attend the session with a young woman in the cubicle. Raj assessed the matter and asked Samir who the woman was. Embarrassed that he didn't even ask the woman's name, he apologised to Raj and said he would be more careful the next time. Who was she? He thought. He looked around in the office, noticing faces for the first time. Everybody was surprised by the sudden intrusion. Samir asked Jaipal, the peon about the woman, describing all her features. To his dismay Jaipal couldn't recall anyone of that description. The next few days went with work, Samir in brief moments remembered her face. He was rightly introduced to the official counsellor, Dr V. Sahai, the following week. He was a man in his late fifties; polite and gentle. He didn't know about the woman nor did Samir seek any information. Samir decided to forget the entire episode.
Months passed, Dr Sahai, helped Samir quite a bit. He was an understanding man and forged an amicable relationship with him. Samir shared intimate details about his life with him. They were never out of topics for discussion. On one such occasion, they both decided to head out for drinks.
'So are you thinking about your sabbatical anymore?' Dr Sahai asked after taking a gulp from his glass.
'No, actually I am thinking of starting something of my own'
'Wow Samir!' The man genuinely seemed impressed.
'All thanks to you, if you hadn't told me what to do'
'Son, I never told you anything. You did it all by yourself' and somewhere Samir knew he was right. They sat idly for few moments when Dr Sahai's phone vibrated. A familiar face beamed through the display.
It was a reminder for the doctor's medicine. Samir couldn't help but ask who the person was.
'Oh, that is Myra'
A thin line of remorse drew on his face.
'Myra?'
'My deceased daughter. She passed two years ago, used set the reminder for my medicines. I didn't have the heart to change it'
Samir was baffled. It was her.
On Wednesdays, there were special unavoidable engagements planned. Apparently, the office at 14, Rajdoot Marg was very much concerned about their employees mental well being. A private counselling session was held for every employee on Wednesdays. Samir missed his session during the first week. When the enthusiastic HR representative, Raj, made way to his table and politely asked him to corporate with the exercise. Samir made a beginner's excuse. Now, he had no excuse to miss it for the second time. He went inside the little cubical that was allotted to the visiting counsellor. To his surprise it was better than any of the spaces outside. It had a mini fridge and a television screen. A young woman entered the room. Her hair were made in a bun, she held a clip board in her right hand and pen in the other. She sat on the chair opposite to him. She looked him the eyes and said nothing. Samir thought it was his queue to say something.
'I am Samir, I joined a week ago'
The woman stared at him more intently. She wrote something on the paper attached to her clip board. Finally, she put it down and exchanged pleasantries. She started to ask the routine questions. How's his job? Is he comfortable? What does he think about the people? When it came to the question of his colleagues he bluntly replied that he hadn't talked to any of them. She pursed her lips and took the clip board again. She asked personal questions about his sex life, his love life and his family, which in a very diplomatic tone she said he could answer only if was comfortable. He dodged the question about his love life but hinted how sexually unsatisfied he was. After fifteen minutes they wrapped the session. Later that day, Raj came to his desk asking Samir why he had missed his session again. Samir was confused and told Raj that he did attend the session with a young woman in the cubicle. Raj assessed the matter and asked Samir who the woman was. Embarrassed that he didn't even ask the woman's name, he apologised to Raj and said he would be more careful the next time. Who was she? He thought. He looked around in the office, noticing faces for the first time. Everybody was surprised by the sudden intrusion. Samir asked Jaipal, the peon about the woman, describing all her features. To his dismay Jaipal couldn't recall anyone of that description. The next few days went with work, Samir in brief moments remembered her face. He was rightly introduced to the official counsellor, Dr V. Sahai, the following week. He was a man in his late fifties; polite and gentle. He didn't know about the woman nor did Samir seek any information. Samir decided to forget the entire episode.
Months passed, Dr Sahai, helped Samir quite a bit. He was an understanding man and forged an amicable relationship with him. Samir shared intimate details about his life with him. They were never out of topics for discussion. On one such occasion, they both decided to head out for drinks.
'So are you thinking about your sabbatical anymore?' Dr Sahai asked after taking a gulp from his glass.
'No, actually I am thinking of starting something of my own'
'Wow Samir!' The man genuinely seemed impressed.
'All thanks to you, if you hadn't told me what to do'
'Son, I never told you anything. You did it all by yourself' and somewhere Samir knew he was right. They sat idly for few moments when Dr Sahai's phone vibrated. A familiar face beamed through the display.
It was a reminder for the doctor's medicine. Samir couldn't help but ask who the person was.
'Oh, that is Myra'
A thin line of remorse drew on his face.
'Myra?'
'My deceased daughter. She passed two years ago, used set the reminder for my medicines. I didn't have the heart to change it'
Samir was baffled. It was her.
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