The Boundaries of Love

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Working in a publication house as an editor is a boon as well as bane. Boon - because you get to read stories even before they get published; bane- because you cringe every time you read horrible plotlines and no-depth characters. 

Right now, I am editing a romantic story where a billionaire playboy falls in love with his quirky assistant. I pop my fingers, the telltale sign that I am bored out of my wits. My fingers twitch on the keyboard, hovering over certain words that the writer has used to define the Male Lead, but again if I change those words then the whole idea of the story changes from young adult romance to normal romance. 

I am a huge fan of slow burn romance; where a man and a woman meet and gradually move on to become partners in every sense. Maybe that's why I am still single at twenty six. Not that I complain, but yes, sometimes I feel lonely. I miss someone in my life, who would just be there for me or vice versa. I love my life. I love how independent I am. Yes, my friends question my independence as I still live with my parents. Even my brother, his wife and his son live with us. 

In my opinion, you don't need to sever ties with family to become an independent person. You become independent when you are able to see certain things in an unbiased way; when you can take your life decisions without worrying about how the society would react to it. Maybe that's why I haven't fallen in love yet. 

The Male character of this story is the exact opposite of my liking. A characterless man, who thinks he has the right to control the female lead's life; saying that he had a hard past because of which he has turned into a complete jerk. Sometimes I wonder if we women have in-built psychologist! Like we are here to mend the mental problems of the so called f*cked-up male leads. And people love reading such stories. 

"Introspecting again?" I hear a chuckle at which I smile too. Ashima Sinha, one of the assistant editors. She is younger than me. Fresh out of college with English major. She is here as a summer intern. 

I smile, "Trust me Ashima, these stories want me to bang my head upon any wall that I see." 

She peers over my computer screen and reads a couple of lines, "Oh! Another billionaire story!" She laughs. "Well, I am editing a short story. It's really good. Fast paced and crisp writing!"

"Lucky you!" 

"I wish you were my immediate reporting boss. I hate Rajesh Sir! He makes weird faces as if I don't know a single word of English, and he is the one who edits everything." She rolls her eyes. 

I snort at her comment. Rajesh indeed is a bully. But only when it concerns Ashima. That man is head over heels from the moment he had seen her. But Ashima was as oblivious as she is now. So he has chosen a completely different way to gain her attention. 

Our conversation breaks as my phone vibrates. A whatsapp message from Mrs Malhotra. Another weird habit of hers, she just loves this app. NewAge has a group on whatsapp, where every morning Mrs Malhotra sends a good morning message along with motivational quotes. And even in the office, she constantly messages in the group asking for official details as well as some personal questions.

I frown, she messaged me personally. Not on the group. Meet me in my cabin please. Now. I look at Ashima who seems intrigued too. 

"Mrs Malhotra and personal message?" She asks. 

I shrug as I logged out from my laptop, "One of her insane days may be." I wink. 

I lightly knock on the already ajar door,  "Ma'am may I come in?" She looks up from the phone and nods. And she is glowing. Weird, wasn't she unwell yesterday !? She smiles and asks me to sit down.