Years ago, many brave hearts have fought for gender equality, women rights and equal rights for blacks. Yet, these ideologies, still prevail.
In the 21st century, we are to build new ideas, not dwell on old prejudices.
***
Noor Ahmed is the CEO of t...
Strong aromatic scents, enveloped in a humid August wind, greet Noor and her crew, on arrival.
Cups and Cakes Inc. has partnered with, Mr. Ashok Balaji, of the Food Stuff group, in order to host a Culinary Show.
Upon being invited; the head of departments, the CEO and her Secretary, are here, in Delhi, India.
Noor takes in, a deep, foreign breath, as a Ford SUV, halts, nearby.
Noor, along with, Jane, Sahil, Shifa Suhoor – the new Accounts Head, Mark, and Fahad, pile into the beige – colored SUV.
~~~
After an hour's drive, with a restroom stop, in between, the Cups and Cakes Inc. crew, arrive outside Taj Palace.
Jane and Shifa look up, in awe, at the curved building, which looms ahead of them.
Noor gets off, first, followed by the rest. She thanks the driver, before walking inside.
Inside, she is greeted, by a Food Stuff official - a tall, light skinned man, with a chiseled face, and small eyes.
"Namaste," He joins, his hands, in greeting.
"Welcome to Delhi," He states, in a bharti drawl. "How was your flight?"
"It was comfortable. Thank you,"
"Well. Follow Jahangir," He points, towards a skinny, South Indian bellboy. "He will take you, to your rooms,"
~~~
"You must be...Mr. And Mrs. Ahmed. Right?"
Fahad and Noor look at each other, before looking at the bellboy.
"You have been mistaken...I am Noor Ahmed, while he is Mr. AbdurRahman, my Secretary,"
"Sorry, Ma'am," He apologizes, immediately. "I thought, you both are married,"
"Not yet," Fahad whispers, only for Noor to hear.
~~~
Noor grabs her, cherry – colored suitcase, from the pile, before wheeling it inside, her hotel room.
She closes the door, behind her.
After freshening up, she sits, in front of the window, while taking in the scenic view, while sipping on, some hot chocolate.
A gentle rain pours, outside. The Neem trees, growing outside, in the compound of the hotel, get soaked.
She wishes, to be outside.
~~~
Fahad curls up, with Noor's schedule, while sipping tea. He stares, outside the window, while wanting to feel the drop of water, trickling down, his fingers.
He sighs, as a wave of nostalgia, passes, over him.
Every monsoon, Badi dadi and his Ammi, would sit outside, waiting patiently, for the rain, to arrive.
The compounds would be dry, until, the first showers. The Lord showers his blessings, his Ammi would say.
He would play, in the rain, with his sheep – Komal. He didn't have friends, since, all the children, in his neighborhood, were older or stronger, than him.
He lifts, the latch of his window, and puts his hand, in the rain. He wiggles his fingers, and then, looks sideways.
He sees another hand, doing the same – Noor's hand. He closes the window, after a while, as his hand, becomes numb, with cold.
He puts his laptop, aside, before pulling out a notebook, which contains, his sketches.
He attempts to sketch, Noor's hand, which is still, in the rain. He succeeds.
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