Treacherous Truths

3#2015

'You came, much early than what I could think of.' Mrs. Rana was certainly pissed with her daughter's punctuality.
'Hi Mum!' Enayat smiled, and then turned around to give up her shoes and think of a better excuse to please her mother. '9 pm isn't too late, is it?' she further added for some relief.
'That is for you to decide, anyway, I am leaving.' Mrs. Rana picked up her baggage, a kit full of lab instruments.
'Nightshift?' Enayat's mother worked in Lady Reading's hospital, as a lab technician. Over the years she had educated herself in Biochemistry and was also part-time tutoring some medical students, but however, her love for the lab didn't faulter. 
Mrs. Rana nodded, looked a bit wary of her daughter's ill timings.
'I must say, and as a routine as well, that you should settle your day better. Whats all this roaming around, running specifically? Why can't you do a normal B.Ed, if not a professor  you can be a school teacher. You would learn the culture of education, curtesy and would be much more happier.' Mrs. Rana had this in her mind always, but her daughter wasn't an easy nut to crack.

There is no thrill in teaching for me.

I can't do the same thing every year.

There would be a different set of children, a chained environment with the same text books.

etc.,etc.,etc.,....

Enayat nodded her head with the same thoughts, huffed and sat on the sofa nearest to her. 'Good Luck Mumma...' She wished her mother, better than a bye.

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'Sir...' 'Sir, excuse me please, but please.. Listen to me...' Rosie was finding it difficult to inculcate words in her excuses and apologies and pleases. She was on a phone call with the local publisher, who was ready to give her, her first chance as an author- but on the cost of his own editing skills. The offer was lucarative and shiny from the outside, but Rosie very well knew that it would just make  the story and her name more drearier. 

'I am still giving you a chance, unlike..' the caller's voice got sneakier 'unlike...should I complete?' he chuckled and put down the call.

'Bullhead.' Rosie's voice was heavy in her throat. For how long is she going to carry this draft around, a bundle of papers in her bag and a heavy stone on her heart.

She brewed a hot chocolate, what she had learnt during her graduation days and sat across a series of books in her bookshelf staring at those if they could talk. 
'You know ' she said 'I told my mother once, that whatever may come my way, I will be an author. No matter what!' she could feel her eyes going damp as she gobbled two spoon full of more chocolate. 

The sweeter it will get, the less bitter it might feel. 

'I seriously think that my descions, know better than me. I should better be a teacher, I....' She couldn't complete. For her, it was perfectly sane to talk with words printed on pages, rather than people with a voice box, atleast she could read everything rather than hearing unknown expectations.

'I, as  a woman had ambition.. and ...and aspirations...' Rosie cried, sobbing on the end of her sleeves, falling drowsy and devoid of dreams.

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'Lousy fame and fart smells..' Shantanu was disgusted with what the lab smelled like even if it was far better than rotten eggs or burnt cheese.

'You know what..' Siddhant scribbled some words on a paper 'that's cocaine lying there' he pointed out towards crumbs of white powder.

'Thank you Professor, if not you, I would have certainly taken it in my tea..' Shantanu laughed. Siddhant rolled his head. 'Don't you see.' He again pointed out towards it.

'What?' Shantanu gained a few ounces of conscience.

'Honestly, its just so much of it. We just need a pinch and they keep loads of it open on the table.' Sid pulled out his phone, as Shantanu too nodded in affirmation. 

A few positives, and indicators lay scattered across the table, when Sid decided to get up and make his way through the door. 'Where do you think you are escaping? We aren't done yet!' Shantanu called out his friend. 

'I am going to get our laundary, if that is fine for you.' Siddhant didn't wait for an answer and just left, maybe he could bring back some hot coffee to make amends.

-----------------

'Whites you see, you never ever wash them with anything. Plus, keep the underpants aside always, oh good lord! I am done with these bachelors.' Riddhi was on her toes. Not for now, but since she has signed a deal with Querencia. It was not bought to her knowledge that a few hostlers from the research institute were staying there and she would get loads of chemical stained cloths and ink washed aprons on her washing table. The workers, who were accustomed to dry clean blazers and furs, with minimum manual work were now resposible to seggregate whites and coloured, chemical and non-chemical, lab and non-lab clothes. 

'I should have increased the rate.' Riddhi mumbled to herself.

'And decreased the reputation.' Enayat poked her nose.

'No seriously' Riddhi looked helpless for the first time in a long period 'tell me if the rate and the machine load makes us any profit.' 

'Ma'am, in all honesty the profit has decreased. Not a lot..' Enayat was still in the middle of her sentence when a squeak from Riddhi was enough to stop her 'Depricaiation! And you stand here as my accountant?'

'Accountant and not as a financial advisor.' Enayat corrected herself rooted to her spot.

'And is there any major difference?' Riddhi huffed, picking up her loosened bun.

'Yes, its about the desigantion and monetory benefit, which I certainly don't give a flying rat ass, but still, if you know?' Enayat moved ahead, and explained her plan to surmise the loss. Riddhi couldn't help but nodd on the suggestion. Before she could add a word for, praise the door turned around, ringing the bell, welcoming a tall gentleman, with brown eyes. 

He moved forward, looking from Enayat to Riddhi who looked too engrossed in a meeting he had disturbed. 

'Yes please, Sir.' Riddhi bowed a bit, rubbing her damp hands on a towel. Enayat moved aside, welcoming the customer.

'Querencia Hotel.' He smiled a bit, but the ladies weren't pleased, or maybe he thought so.

'We need to talk.' Enayat and Riddhi said in unison and both of them for the first time saw each other and smiled.

'I ....' Before Siddhant could say anything Enayat had already started scribbling something on a register, whereas Riddhi was offering tea and table.

'We need to discuss with you, a change in the rate per kilogram of cloth your hotel provides us...' Enayat was all over her pen, speaking terms Siddhant couldn't make out, but honestly who would deny a tea, for free.  He thought of showing some interest, noticing the jet black curls and freckled skin of the accountant who has misunderstood him as some economics expert. Heck, he didn't even remember the meaning of working income. 

'Am I clear? We surely don't see any benefit from the current scheme of things.' Enayat closed her pen, and Riddhi nodded her head.

'I..' Siddhnat gathered some vocabulary to hide his incredulous behaviour. Just tell them who you are, he thought, gulping harder. 'The tea was nice.' He cracked a compliment which was well recieved by the ladies. 'So was the scheme.' Bloody Brilliant! All her explanations linked with the taste of a tea.  

'But do you agree?' Enayat asked further making Siddhant cough. He looked over loads of baskets kept behind, his clothes somewhere in them, which certainly he couldn't take right now. 

'Of course, why not. Just a suggestion by the way, blood is better removed in cold water.' With a lousy and incredible suggestion he took his tomato face and walked straight out of the laundry and hearing some words like 'Is he fine?' in the same warm and cheery voice which had made him do an astonishing and awful thing. He just behaved like an imposter.

'Better Shantanu comes next.' He spoke to himself, retiring to his lab.