Meera's Husband!

Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"What's it Meera? Tell me.....I have to go.....I have a meeting in ten minutes..."                                         Sagar got impatient over the phone. He had not heard his wife this way before -unable to speak after making a phone call. Was she weeping?

" Meera ! Speak Up! What's the matter...?" He tried to be calmer. But she couldn't utter a word. Her tears couldn't stop flowing down her cheeks. Promising to talk later at home after work, she hung up .

She sat at her desk to complete her unattended work.  She had to meet the deadline and had to submit her work before she left the office today.  Her immediate boss was a lovely middle aged lady in her early 50s. She was nevertheless, very strict as far as work was concerned. 

She couldn't concentrate on her work. Instead her mind wandered into the past. Images just flashed by....her childhood, growing up years, she being awarded the best student's certificate.....and many more.

"Meera!  Do you need help? Do you think you can complete it today? You seem to be disoriented a bit. Are you all right, dear?" It was Saima, her immediate boss.

" What is it that is bothering you? You look like a ghost! Where are you lost?  Are you all right?              Saima  asked her empathetically , yet  in a single breath.  She sat across the desk drinking some water.  She looked a bit tired herself. She was without child and was under a lot of medical treatment for the same.

"It's nothing.....Hmmm...I was hurt...terribly hurt!" Meera finally blurted out .

"Who? Mr Naqvi again? " Saima asked a bit loudly. Meera could see her pale face turning red.

" I told him already that we are almost done. I don't know why he keeps nagging a lot," Saima started making faces now. 

"It's not him, Saima.  Just leave me alone for a while.. I need to be alone..." 

She watched  Saima reluctantly walking towards her chair. How she wished she could share her thoughts with her. But no. Her secret was hers. It should remain so, as long as she could hold onto it. 

She  actually got into this Auditing Firm through some influential source. The Owner of the Firm was a very good friend of her neighbour's  boss.  The neighbour was kind enough to forward her CV and helped her immensely to get hold of the job. The only requirement in the Firm had been  that the employees had to have qualifications and at the same time, had to follow the right path- the Muslim Faith!  That was a well guarded secret there. 

Meera was a commerce graduate and had some experience working as a cashier with a Trading Firm. And, she definitely was a Muslim, at least said her passport! She was lucky enough to be considered for the post of the auditor's assistant.  She was clever and learned her trade well.  She was happy with her work and her pay, so were her employers with her dedication and commitment to work.

When it was 1.30 pm, she had already completed most of her calculation work. She decided not to take a lunch break. Instead, she carried on with her calculation and reconciliation procedure. She was very good with computers. 

At about 3.30 pm, she was almost done. She submitted her report to Saima who had to go through them once again to check for any missing links. Saima was in favour of Meera always. She always did her work on time. 

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 Meera had to concentrate while driving today. She was shattered from inside.  Traffic was slow at this time. Mornings and evenings saw the rage of traffic and the nasty side of human's intolerant nature.  Yet, many people drove for hours to reach their work places on time. The world of expatriate workers was always a busy one. They worked hard during the week days and partied harder during the weekends.

Her mobile phone rang. She never attended calls while driving. It was her son, Omar. She spoke to him on speaker mode. He informed her about his extra classes and that he won't be able to join her after school.

  She felt much relieved. She had more time to think now. She took the road towards her house on Al Nakheel Street.  It was a quiet suburb. She lived with her family in an old Arab villa that was modernised and divided into apartments. They had their own garage and were closer to the sea. It was one of the safest residential areas .

Omar was a student in Grade 7 at an International school that followed the British Curriculum. He was their only son. A son with a Muslim warrior's name! She smiled at the thought. When he was being named, she had insisted on the name. Omar was her younger brother who had died as a baby.