The time I have spent working with Siddharth Hotel wasn’t all that bad either. I have made some good memories too.
Once I had made 15 sales in a month. Thats when I had taken home a salary of 5500/- wow..!! I was again in the limelight for mixed reasons. Ajay had kept singing his number that I maybe sleeping with his clients. I had just not cared.
Gursharan turned out to be my best friend. Right, colleagues don’t make friends- he had though. He had cautioned me well in time that one should stay away from Deepak no matter what. He said that he was pretty capable of placing anyone in thick soup, and that he was Handa’s right hand or left hand- whichever. Deepak was a stick thin lanky guy. Even petite girls would look healthier in comparison. He spoke like any middle- aged gossiping woman. No offence meant- only till comparison bit of speaking. His clothes were as shabby as his unkept hair. He looked so humble that anyone new used to get fooled and get bitten then. Looks are deceiving; he was the perfect example.
Once both Mansi and I had to report to VC for the day. In Siddharth, the telecalling room was outside the Main building. It used to get flooded in rains. The day spent in VC was not as beautiful. Mansi had insisted that we hitch hike to reach home. We may have changed 7- 8 vehicles before we had reached Lakshmi Nagar. The only one surd uncle is all I recall of besides a gypsy guy. Uncle had wanted to know my religion; I had promptly answered- Human. Mansi was startled to say the least. That uncle had lost it!!! He had also wanted to know my nationality because Olivia didn’t seem to be an Indian name.
To hell with such orthodox people. Here uncle, if you are reading this and remember us, may I suggest you please publish a text- book referring the Indian names? Make that religion wise. I’ll pay for the publication charges.
Mansi had decided to meet one of her clients. She said that he had offered her a job. Upon confronting, she had stated that how would he offer her work unless she goes and meet him atleast!! If only she had been straight enough to call that a Blind Date. Irwayoo was a young foreigner guy, working as a spy with UN. She had tagged me along with her too. He had treated us in Imperial. Aaah, Mansi had worn a sari, you know formal and all that! I had worn my yellow Tee and jeans. Mansi had played the elder sister- I am you mother role with that guy so well that he had not let her go in the evening.
She would keep holding his hand before crossing roads. When I had pointed out that she ought not to be doing that, she had merry well pointed out that the poor guy didn’t know how our country was. That he was a foreigner, and so that gesture of help. I had only muttered that she should only wait till he slips her under him. She had only smiled back at me. He didn’t understand vernacular. Obviously, Hindi was not one of his subjects back there.
After food, she had again wanted some ice to eat. She used to munch ice as we do sizzler. That guy was held in perfect awe of her. He would not even wink. I was the one who had dressed loud- yellow Tee shirt and was quite curvaceously built; here, he was hitting on a plain flat doll. Maybe you readers would understand what I mean. You don’t hold a strangers hand in less than half hour under whichever pretense. He wasn’t physically challenged either. He was posted here in New Delhi, India to work. He ought to have known how to cross the street- he knew it too!! But Mansi? A 27- 28 year old lady not knowing how to carry on with a stranger? Please don’t try advocating her actions.
I am not a prude; I’m not a fool either!! By the evening, he had not wanted Mansi to go. He had proposed her to spend the night with him. Whatever that meant. She herself was responsible for that. It wasn’t a bad proposal; only she was embarrassed when he had suggested that. She wasn’t prepared for what was coming her way. If that was not all, he had called his UN cab to get us dropped. It was a huge van like vehicle with dark panes. Not a soul would have been whispered about what was happening.
Reluctantly and fuming, I had boarded with her. He had already started feeling her. I had kept my eyes shut on purpose. By some technic, I had managed to get down where I had to. Mansi had mutely followed me. He had offered to drop her home. Clearly, he had wanted to know her place. Why else he had not offered me the same? Not that I wanted him to.. 😀
She had almost begged with her life that I don’t say a word. I had not. Till, she had rumored that she was offered a job by that foreigner and wanted to negotiate with Handa. That was the prime reason that she had gone to meet him. He had not spoken a word about himself on phone; it was upon meeting him that I discovered that he was a spy. He had kept saying that “it’s a secret” to every question. Putting all his answers (that Mansi had asked him) together, I had only asked once if he was a spy. He had only smiled saying that he was amazed at how I had guessed that.
Handa had made our life hell. We were not to go to cafetaria anymore. Gursharan had quit. Deepak was given the charge of a manager. On his insistence, we were forbidden to dine in EDR!! As it is we entered the hotel from backdoor, now food too!! I wasn’t really ready to sit and dine with those hotel staff in the kitchen.
Aunindyo was sweet towards me. A little more than sweet. Often he would pick me up and take me to Nirula’s. He would make me Order pizza and sit watching me eat. He would keep praising my Table manners and act embarrassed. His sense of humor was good. He made me feel special whenever around. He was adopted son of his parents. He was supposedly an orphan.
He would often tell me that he wanted to own a resort. As I write this about him, he may have already made it big. On my birthday, he had taken me to CP. While I had only startled seeing that book at one of the corner building vendor, he had already paid for it. I had only seen that book flying to me. He had held it out to me saying I could keep that as My Birthday Present. I had also visited where he stayed. It was in the same neighborhood of the hotel. He had kept talking to me sitting in the Living Room. Only when I had insisted going home when he had shown his place to me. It was a fine accommodation. His landlord stayed upstairs. It was a private house, not a flat.
Today, I recall of him with loads of admiration and much regards. he had wanted to settle down with him. I had sensed that. Why didn’t I? He was a Bengali guy. After having witnessed my own relatives, I had been sour mouthed about them. Moreover he smoked. I had seen some liquor bottles in his bedroom too. The impression had not gone down well. Anyways, I was not at all keen on getting married- I had not wanted to give him any false hopes either. I had distanced myself from him.
Surprisingly, no one created any news about my dating him. Why were they getting so bothered about Ralhan? It was my life, what I did after 2pm and with whoever. For crying out loud, I wasn’t booking rooms in the hotel to sleep around. I certainly don’t need to declare that I wasn’t sleeping around either. Sahil was so bothered about the age difference. WTH!!
If anyone is to look at the rural India, such mismatched marriages are still prevalent. Anyone who thinks that I and you are not a part of that rural India, think again. Why the women are beaten up by their legally wedded husbands still? Why was I beaten up, like an old rag is- to clean? Fate? Stop arguing. Contact me personnaly, I’ll show you as many house- holds where Dosmestic Violence breeds like pigs. It’s as common as forced sex after marriage.
I was watching all the educated people there. Their standards, the duality and the lack of any.. !@$%!!#@#^