Living In Oblivion

01

The paperweight in Divit's hand felt heavy, but he didn't look up from his screen. His gaze was fixed, yet aimless, lost in a world of strange thoughts that tangled in his mind. Despite the weight, there was a lightness in his soul, a detachment from the chaos that cluttered his desk and the open file awaiting his attention.

"Five of spades there," he murmured absently, engrossed in a game of Spider Solitaire. The game held a captivating grip on his colleagues, distracting them from their coding threads and minimized software windows whenever their boss made his rounds.

"S-Sir, the queen should go below-" Kamlesh, the peon, began to speak but was interrupted by Naveen's sharp retort from the adjacent cubicle. The peon's towering figure hovered over Naveen's head as the commotion escalated.

"Bade Sahib wants to see Divit sir in his cabin," Kamlesh finally managed to convey amidst the discord.

Divit replaced the paperweight, already on his toes and heading towards the door before Kamlesh could fully turn to face him. He swiftly made his way through the silent corridor, each step echoing against the hard tiles. The confines of the old building felt oppressive, suffocating with a sense of confinement that carried a faint scent of decay. Four years had passed, yet nothing had changed. Dreams remained dormant, reflecting back from a fractured mirror, forming an ugly image that couldn't be ignored.

Shaking off the lingering thoughts, Divit's eyes caught sight of a woman engrossed in her task. Her hair fell haphazardly across her face, partially obscuring it, while a folder lay carelessly on the small table before her. She delicately handled tiny screws, dropping them into a plastic container, and then proceeded to remove the battery from a phone using a plucker.

Divit blinked, amused by the sight, but quickly averted his gaze as he approached his destination. The door read:

Chief Technology Officer (CTO)

Dr. Vibhuti Bharadwaj

After a minute, Divit was called inside. Dr. Bharadwaj looked up from the file he had been reading, adjusting his glasses before focusing on signing the documents.

Divit patiently waited, stealing glances at the time. Lunchtime was in danger of slipping away due to this encounter. Lips pressed into a thin line, he sat comfortably, his mind running through possible reasons for being summoned.

His team was currently working on a project that progressed at a sluggish pace. However, there was no significant pressure from the department, and most of his teammates were regularly assigned other tasks. Thus, the project's pace shouldn't have been the cause of concern.

"Divit," Dr. Bharadwaj finally put the file aside, addressing him. "Please have a seat." He fixed his glasses and focused on Divit.

Divit waited, his eyes momentarily flickering to the time. There was a high likelihood of this old man consuming his lunch break. With a polite smile, he responded, "I'm doing fine, sir. You called? Is there something urgent?"

Dr. Bharadwaj blinked, joining his hands and leaning forward. "Actually, yes. It's not extremely urgent, but I need a favor from you. I hope you won't let me down."

Divit's polite smile wavered, as he didn't genuinely mean his initial response. Favours were often veiled acts of self-interest, draped in the cloak of decency. It was a common occurrence in the corporate world, where people used the guise of favor to push their own agendas.

"Please go ahead," Divit said, concealing his skepticism.

"Thank you. I knew I could rely on you," Dr. Bharadwaj smiled warmly.

Divit suppressed the urge to point out that he hadn't yet agreed to anything. It was remarkable how people presumed what they desired. They believed in hope, relied on it, but Divit had witnessed hope shatter and people's ruthlessness in the face of disappointment. Yet, perhaps that was one of the unspoken rules that kept the world turning-an intricate web of expectation, woven with threads of heart, softness, care, and humanity.