Going through the various little boxes of WANTED, Pankhuri desperately circled the ones she could apply to. Knowing well she did not need to, what with her parental business awaiting her takeover, she had only one ambition in life -- to understand suffering -- undergo, actually. This was rare, such a wish, but who could say anything about human character. It certainly has more shades than a tree's leaves, more hues than the sky's meta-play, and yes, more depth than one could think of the sea to hold, a secret with layers of layers. One such layer, possibly, is our Pankhuri.
The first box she had circled wanted a work-from-home data entry job. The updated CV set on the desktop, she immediately mailed it to the concerned mail id. The next mail was sent for the post of a Montessori Teacher, and the third to a receptionist's at a corporate broker firm. There was no pattern, if you were trying to find one. Perhaps a distant one, that of a lack of logic. Tired of attending girly-parties, and reasoning withing herself if she had mettle outside of just carrying out the apparel industry, Pankhuri decided. And has been on it since the last month.
She paid Ganeshan, the driver an extra hundred each day to leave her to the bus-stop and not to report back home that she was on her own since then. Bus-rides took her places -- dingy crowds, dirty lanes, soothing riversides and similar offices. She was offered nine jobs, which she diligently rejected, hoping to suffer, from hopelessness, if not that being not chosen. What could one say, she always was. And in this way, thirty days were over. Without an iota of suffering.
Having mailed the CVs, she picked up her phone to call the number in one of the relatively smaller boxes, "Special Services". She knew she would have to be willing and audition to be an escort. The call came through. "Tonight, Great Eastern. Room 511. Client will handover the concerned envelope. Say 'Way'. Client will reply 'Ward'".The call ended without Pankhuri able to make any entry into it. She dressed elegantly and decided to take Ganeshan all the way to the place today. As she made her confident way up to Room 511, she was happy. And angry that she was happy. She wanted to understand sadness. There was nothing that did not go her way since her birth. She was good at her lessons, manners and games. Too good sometimes.
509. What if I enter this room instead?
510. Let me ring the bell on this "Do not Disturb".
511. Pankhuri rang the bell, ready to sell her soul. It opened as fast as she was blindfolded.
"Way!" she screamed.
Now she felt the blindfold opening. "Ward" came the voice from behind her. The room was full of maps, codes and ciphers. Transmitters were lying harmlessly here and there. She felt the fingers trace her nape. "You are attractive."
She looked back. It was no one she knew, but she knew it was a face she could never forget. He held her the envelop. "The delivery date and time will be sent to you in due time." Pankhuri had no clue of what was going on. She took it and left. Why me? She called for Ganeshan. Delighted with the dilemma she finally had, on whether to open the envelop or not, she was smiling in sadness. Undeserving, yet, as fate would have it, she became the chosen one who become part of a project, of which, even she was not aware. With her home in view, she received another call. "Hello."
"In forty minutes. Apsara Cinema. Hand it over at cash. Mention his code." The call went off. "Ganeshan, Apsara Cinema, quick!" She tried to appear calm as she neared the cash. "Ward". The man looked at her from his little peephole and swiftly took in the envelop. He gave her back a ticket. As she tried to settle on the seat, there was an announcement of immediate evacuation. Like the rest, she queued to leave when some masked people came and started a wildfire.
Pankhuri never lived to know what suffering was.
The first box she had circled wanted a work-from-home data entry job. The updated CV set on the desktop, she immediately mailed it to the concerned mail id. The next mail was sent for the post of a Montessori Teacher, and the third to a receptionist's at a corporate broker firm. There was no pattern, if you were trying to find one. Perhaps a distant one, that of a lack of logic. Tired of attending girly-parties, and reasoning withing herself if she had mettle outside of just carrying out the apparel industry, Pankhuri decided. And has been on it since the last month.
She paid Ganeshan, the driver an extra hundred each day to leave her to the bus-stop and not to report back home that she was on her own since then. Bus-rides took her places -- dingy crowds, dirty lanes, soothing riversides and similar offices. She was offered nine jobs, which she diligently rejected, hoping to suffer, from hopelessness, if not that being not chosen. What could one say, she always was. And in this way, thirty days were over. Without an iota of suffering.
Having mailed the CVs, she picked up her phone to call the number in one of the relatively smaller boxes, "Special Services". She knew she would have to be willing and audition to be an escort. The call came through. "Tonight, Great Eastern. Room 511. Client will handover the concerned envelope. Say 'Way'. Client will reply 'Ward'".The call ended without Pankhuri able to make any entry into it. She dressed elegantly and decided to take Ganeshan all the way to the place today. As she made her confident way up to Room 511, she was happy. And angry that she was happy. She wanted to understand sadness. There was nothing that did not go her way since her birth. She was good at her lessons, manners and games. Too good sometimes.
509. What if I enter this room instead?
510. Let me ring the bell on this "Do not Disturb".
511. Pankhuri rang the bell, ready to sell her soul. It opened as fast as she was blindfolded.
"Way!" she screamed.
Now she felt the blindfold opening. "Ward" came the voice from behind her. The room was full of maps, codes and ciphers. Transmitters were lying harmlessly here and there. She felt the fingers trace her nape. "You are attractive."
She looked back. It was no one she knew, but she knew it was a face she could never forget. He held her the envelop. "The delivery date and time will be sent to you in due time." Pankhuri had no clue of what was going on. She took it and left. Why me? She called for Ganeshan. Delighted with the dilemma she finally had, on whether to open the envelop or not, she was smiling in sadness. Undeserving, yet, as fate would have it, she became the chosen one who become part of a project, of which, even she was not aware. With her home in view, she received another call. "Hello."
"In forty minutes. Apsara Cinema. Hand it over at cash. Mention his code." The call went off. "Ganeshan, Apsara Cinema, quick!" She tried to appear calm as she neared the cash. "Ward". The man looked at her from his little peephole and swiftly took in the envelop. He gave her back a ticket. As she tried to settle on the seat, there was an announcement of immediate evacuation. Like the rest, she queued to leave when some masked people came and started a wildfire.
Pankhuri never lived to know what suffering was.
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