Intezaar

Chapter 1.

" Producer Sahiba ab tak aap pachhis scripts reject kar chuki hai aakhir dikkat kya hai aapko?? Ab kya Shakespeare khud aaye aapko impress krne ke liye??." My best friend AKA P.A. finally burst out on me after I rejected nth script of the day. It's not like I didn't take the liking-well yeah I didn't like any of them it's same ole same ole. Old basic typical love story but I am always known for my unique work never in my whole damn career I ever compromised with quality of my work. That's why it's loved by almost every youth.

Wasting my time and resources in those shows in which hero is way more toxic but his heroine came and changed him for better, she get disliked by everyone in the family except her mother in-law, they get Married and shit. All the drama and stretching those shit hours years was definitely not my cup of tea. I actually hate those type of stupidity.

Nor I like today's reality shows like half of them become charity rather talent shows its completely nuts and remaining were just nosing around poking there nose in others private life showing off all the fights ruining the actor's images forever.

And all scripts I heard till now are basically I disliked.

I sighed softly and looked at the lady, who was burning holes in my soul. Shivani Pawar, my legal advisor/P.A. as I mentioned earlier and my best friend who was more stressed than about the up coming work.

"We can't call it script Shivani, it looked like those writings were some cliché written by fourteen year old horny teen. Every damn single storyline was same- a rich stupid guy, arrogant, rude full of himself and extraordinary multi talented, educated beautiful girl,who belongs to middle class family, want to support her it financially like same ole same ole. I literally can't do that it's not my cup of tea." I tried to reason out my frustration and deep down even she knew that I was right.

Taking a deep breath, she replied," Fair enough! This is the last script writer who came to meet you, I just send her to you." With that she left, here I was preparing myself for another 'ekta Kapoor' type of story.

There was a soft knock on my door, looking up I found a head peeping through the door. Nodding my head with the subtle 'come in'.

I saw skinny lady- no actually a girl, maybe in her early twenties, wearing simple light blue kurti with white bottoms which have a little embroidery in the bottom, a simple and elegant silver bracelet with a rose golden watch in her right hand. Classy. I must admit.

" Hello, miss Singh! This is Santosh Sharma here." She extended her hand to greet, showing her bunny like smile, well she was her face shows nothing but pure innocence, I have a vibe that this one will be different. I reciproted the handshake with formal smile before gesturing her to take the seat.

She settled herself down, i straighteed my myself and began," So miss Sharma, let's just come directly to the point. You can begin with your story."

She looked hesitant, to which I didn't get it, " Miss sharma are you ok? Please relax and have some wat-," i did not even to finish my sentence as she was  already gulping down the glass. " Do you need more?" To which she just shook her head in negative.

She fiddled with her fingers and responded with the uncertainty I picked up her gestured and asked in polite tone, "what happened miss is there any problem? "

"No problem miss Singh it's just that my story doesn't really fit in societal norms and may be what you would expect, it quite different from others.." She exhaled after finishing up rant.