A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.
CHARACTERS : AYAN NEHWAL, NAMAN RAI, SNEHA AWASTHI, AYESHA JUNEJA, T.A.P. SRIRAM, RAHUL RANJAN.
“————–Chapter 2 : JOB: Just Obey (the) Boss—————“
You must had noticed that watch’s both hand move way too fast, if you had to rush somewhere, on-time!
In weekdays, it was always my office. “Reaching office on time” should be declared as an adventure sport as bungee jumping.
Adding to the exquisite flavor of the busy morning, Delhi’s traffic is always there to welcome you.It loves you so much that it doesn’t let you move more than 15-20 km/h speed. and the rate of getting cheesed-off by this, is directly proportional to the time you have to wait, to feel your engine roaring upon acceleration.
Unnecessarily honking irritates. Its never the same in foreign countries. Sensible people never use their horn, as a musical instrument. Here, it’s indeed a time-pass on the road.
God forbid I wrinkled my attire completely.
Naman was standing right beside his cabin. I saw him as I was entering into the office.He was already there, busy in flipping pages of some file.
We exchanged smile.
He, being a key position holder in the company and swiping-off big sum of money, always looked fabulous. Grey-colored suit from his personal Black Berry collection, Tissot T-Heritage on the wrist was soothing my eyes and his body too.
“Aloha Ayan!“, he showed his affection, without moving-away the eyes from file.
“Good morning bro”,
“and Since when you started talking Hawaiian? “, ah! I love Google.
“Nothing, just heard it on the go.”, kneeled down before spontaneity.
He was looking afresh, after he completes his responsibility as a brother.
“Dude, I need to rush. I’ve to bell the cat”, I hi-five him. He winked.
Ah! Felt a sigh of relief, as I entered into the office 10 min before.
Ayesha joined me, as I walked to my cabin.
Now, there are some people, who like the work and their job pretty seriously, some doesn’t. Ayesha, my secretary, is the former one. She was no less than my genie in such hectic schedule.
She is chirpy yet laborious girl. She makes the environment light by her presence. Thanks to the Male-to-Female ratio policy of the company, which they have to maintain, we have sensible yet visibly-well-groomed staff.
Though officials haven’t put any restriction on the monotonous office-dress, she always chooses punjabi salwar-kamiz as her preferred attire. As she is a punjaban, it matches her vakhra persona.
“When is the meeting?”, I asked anxiously.
“Sir,It’s about to start in 15 min”, Ayesha replied.
“Ok”, “get me the file of the device, that has the problem “. The testing team found two bugs of integer overflow and SIGFPE. It may lead to Integer based attacks and unacceptable behavior in the running time simulation.
“here you go, Sir!”, She said, and handed over the file.
“Fellas! we’re not on the schedule”, “and I want a full descriptive report of what we’re up to?”, my oval shaped boss,T.A.P. Sriram, said, wiping off his sweaty forehead.
‘Are these the symptoms of heart-attack?”, a thought crashed into my mind at lightening speed. Jesus ! he was sweating in an AC room.
We all five people present in the room had sensed the level of concern in his voice and were tensed too.
Rahul Ranjan was the head of the User Interface Development of the product, the fifth guy.
My Boss, being a South Indian, was very calm by nature. But, when it comes to work, he was a serious mate.
“Well! we rectified the cause of problem “,” It’ll get Troubleshot ASAP”, I tried to make him calm.
As the meeting was over, I saw Sneha Awasthi, first time in the office, second time in the last three days.
Sometime, the only thing that turn on a guy in a woman, is the way, she carries herself.
She was looking extremely professional. Wearing formal , holding a file in her left hand, that was resting over her left waist. Black frame spectacles was enhancing her girly look. Her razor sharp eyes paid full attention to our boss. I would say, she was amphoteric.
“New recruit! “, every new recruited person works with full attention, in starting only.
The meeting was about timely solution of such problems and moreover the deadline discussion about the launch of a new product.
Naman knocked on the glass-door, showing me the time by tipping his finger on his watch and was saying,”It’s over!”, by sign language, like a deaf and dumb, standing outside the door.
I wrapped-up the cluttered files and headed towards the parking.
It’s time to go back home.
“Come, let me drive you home. I want to talk with you.”, He offered the drive.
“Cool !”, I said as I hopped-in his Honda Civic.
“tum aa gaye ho, nur aa gaya hai…”. After the tiring day, listening to the deadly duo of nightingale, a sobriquet, Lata Mangeshkar and the father of yodeling, Kishore Kumar, was much more than just sheer pleasure.
“Here you go again.Come-on Dude! Do you always listen to these sadly-romantic songs ?”.
Though I had no offence with Old songs but, it was him, who try to imitate yodeling of The
Kishore Da to tease me to the fullest by his chorus.
And I feel, he enjoys this sadistic pleasure.
“I love puraane gaane.”, He said it in the musical rhythm by stretching the sound.
“Old is Gold, my friend”, he preached!
I didn’t listen to him, as I was busy in my important work, m.Facebook.com ! It always aced in priorities.
If you don’t get time to update your Facebook status once in a day, then you reserve the right to say,”TODAY, I WORKED!”
As I was changing my status
from: “O’sum Weekend 🙂 :)”
to:”Bheja fry-3 Promotion in a car : my friend has awful singing capabilities 😦 😦 ”
he said something unexpected.
“papi! how the hell you don’t have any idea about Sneha ?”, “she is in the office from past two weeks”, he asked.
“Dude, I don’t own a satellite and I ain’t no CIA agent.”, My love for the Hollywood movies inside me rippled as I fired back.
“ooh! Do you want one?”,”It’s under the backseat”, he chuckled. He was always this much unpredictable.
“Whoa! The king of Good times”, It’s one among the several A-listed things that boys love. Beer!
“hope, now you own one and it’s in your hand!”, he started whistling to the tune.
“definitely!”, I nodded. “I can give it to you too, on rent if you want !”. exaggerated.
Evening time, awesome music, Beer in hand! whole day’s tiredness flew away.
achcha to hum chalte h….Phir Kab Miloge… Jab Tum Kahoge… I hummed it as the song changed to another classic retro.
Vikas “Smrit” Singh.
TO BE CONTINUED… IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.
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