Untame My Heart

Chapter 1

Thomas wished he had enough chutzpah to shush the man.

In his profession he bumped into many types of conservationists; ‘listener’- were the ones he adored, they simply stood and nodded their heads hearing or at least successfully pretending to hear all his bizarre talks.

Interrupters – could be fun or annoying to cater to as they were always hell bent on interrupting him at any point they saw fit, and then spent the rest of the day, week or year convincing him of what they thought was right.

Finally, horrifyingly, came in, incessant talkers, Thomas sighed in misery- talking, sorry, listening to them should be enough to convince God to give him a free ticket to heaven, one needed patience, enormous amount, to deal with such virile creatures. They dominated the entire conversation and seemed to be blissfully unaware of when the other person in the conversation was ready for it to be over.

Thomas was dealing with a man belonging to the last breed and right now, he would have preferred to dance naked then to be in his company.

Praying, telepathy, ‘in mind’ screaming; nothing seemed to be working with this man who was enjoying using his vocal cords to his heart’s content, and Thomas had all but given up.

 “But, if I would have been the Secretary of State, I would say, plunge in deep and fill your pocket, after all the markets act well in China and India, it derives me to complete insanity to see that we still flounder and dither to invest in these appropriate, if I may say, dumping grounds....”

He watched, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the bald congressman in front of him, who was keen on informing him of his ‘intellectual and profound’ views on the lackluster foreign policy that US was keen on following.

Thomas knew being a highly placed diplomat of the country, he was a public figure and was always up for a good bout of conversation and exchange of views on any local, national, international issue but that did not mean he was entitled to just that one topic.

As he nodded at appropriate moments in the one way conversation the man seemed hell bent on having, he wondered idly, did being a diplomat meant he carried a placard with him that read- any idiot with little to no knowledge could throw outlandish theories at him? Thomas was no push over, he desperately wanted to correct the man and enlighten him of the reason for following of a more docile policy but the man scarcely gave him a chance to get a word in.

When the man in question was called in by another, Thomas escaped at the first instance, not looking back, simply treading on till he reached the humongous Victorian doors that guaranteed him freedom and relief albeit temporary in nature.

Now, he stood near a fountain, dark shadows from trees encasing him within its fold, his gaze fixed on his glass, seemingly held captivated by the way champagne sloshed around the edges, as if demanding escape but there were only two destinations pre decided for it. 

Either it would become his tummy's new occupant or go down the washbasin. 

Of course, there was a third option too, that of being hurled on to someone and being seeped by the cloth greedily, permanently staining it, proving to be a reminder, but owing to the fact that Thomas Conrad was a young yet seasoned, well accepted till now; diplomat, that action in itself would declare him unfit of his glowing, powerful lineage that he not only had inherited but felt blessed to be a part of.