Geet - Meri, Phir Bhi Parayi

Chapter IV

Geet inhaled the familiar scent of her office: paper, leather and that ever present whisper of jasmine. She sat in her oversized leather chair at her mahogany desk, running her fingers over the deep carvings along the edge. Sighing, she swiveled her chair to face the floor to ceiling windows that made up the walls of her corner office. Staring out onto the Delhi traffic, she allowed a smile to creep to her lips.

"Dekha Papa ji? Dekho main kahan se kahan aa gayi. Aap khush toh hai na Papa ji? I've made you proud na Papa ji? Bas mujhe aapka aashirwaad aur khushi chhahiye, aur kuch nahi."

A gentle knock on the glass door to her office broke her reverie. The head of her barbie-esque secretary bobbed in the doorway.

"Ma'am, sab log conference room main aap ke liye tayyaar hai. Hum meeting ke liye chalein?"

Geet turned, the traces of a sad smile still lingering on her lips.

"Thank you, Pari," Geet stood and walked out of her office, Pari at her heels.

It was Pari's second week working for Geet Ma'am and she had yet to understand how Geet Ma'am walked so fast in her four inch Louboutins and high-waisted pencil skirts that reached just below her knees. Pari chose flats with gel insoles and pant suits after her first day as secretary for Handa Industries' CEO. Demanding and aggressive as Geet Ma'am was, Pari admired her boss in everything from her quick mind to her sense of style. The cool confidence that emitted from her every movement made Pari think that Geet Ma'am didn't even sneeze without deciding it would be advantageous and agreeing to the relief a sneeze would provide her nose. No wonder this woman was an enigma, she pondered and calculated, she organized and deliberated, she inspired awe and exacted perfection.

Everything from the delicate wing of her eyeliner and the seamless coat of black nail polish she wore to the color coded files that filled cabinets in every office of the building and the scented paper on which she wrote every personal letter to her staff, breathed to witness the glory that was Geet Handa. Pari had already began imitating Geet Ma'am's firm handshake and unwavering eyes in the mirror at home, such was the jaadoo of Geet Handa.

As Pari quickened her pace to keep up with her boss, she noted today's outfit. Standard issue Geet Ma'am high-waisted skirt, variation: gray. Fitted white button-down blouse. Nude Louboutin pumps. Diamond stud earrings in both first and second piercings, larger in the bottom piercing, smaller on top. White and gold leather watch. One thin gold band on pinky finger of watch hand. Hair tied low in a tight bun, the usual rebellious curls falling out.

"Kya baat hai yaar, Geet Ma'am kisi ko bhi paa sakti. Bhagwaan jaane kyun akeli rehne pe tuli hui hai," Pari wondered as she completed her mental catalogue of her boss's wardrobe.

"Pari, tum ne kuch kaha?"

"Ji?" Pari's now golf ball-sized eyes snapped to her boss. "Ji-nahi woh main-bas uh-kuch bhi toh nahi Ma'am, maine toh kuch bhi nahi kaha."

"Hm,"

The two stopped outside the conference room doors. Pari stood just behind Geet, mentally double checking the list of files she had to bring. Geet Ma'am wrapped her fingers around the door handle before her.

"Aur Pari?"

"Ji Ma'am?"

"Aaj tumhari probation khatam."

Pari watched as her boss opened the frosted glass door and walked in before stopping to see the smile that had spread across Pari's face. The usually overwhelming silence that met her within the conference room could not make her smile falter. In fact, today she reveled in the feeling that accompanied trailing the powerful shadow of her boss.