Attachments

Chapter 19

The needles struck 11.24 p.m. on Chanch's old-fashioned wristwatch when I exited the building, after completing the truckloads of work and submitting the file on Mr. Joshua's empty table. I couldn't keep my eyes open, nor could I stand still; I felt a pulsating pound against my temples and the backache I experienced was intolerably painful. I simply wanted to collapse somewhere and dose-off for the next two days, or something. But the thought of having to show up at 8.30 in the morning the following day drained me down; there mere thought of it exhausted me. The tic-toc sound of my heels against the hard, concrete ground forced the security guard out of his deep slumber on the plastic chair he lazily slumped back on. With a blank expression smeared on his tired face, he stared at me, scratching his hair. Uncertain about what to say or do, I flashed a forceful smile at the man, who sleepily gawked at me, without uttering a word; it was uncomfortable. Had it been a stranger, I would have poked his eyes and screwed it out of its sockets; the security guard got lucky, just because he worked for Darshan Raval's company.

Seconds later, suddenly, he sprung up to his feet and I abruptly stood to my ground, clenching the strap of my handbag. We exchanged complete blank and silent stares for – what felt like – a decade, before he cleared his throat and I looked away, tightening my grip around the strap of my handbag.

"How will you go home?", he interrogated. 'Aladdin lent me his carpet; I'll be flying home tonight', my inner-voice answered. "Train", I said, instead. "The railway station is far from here. The roads are empty", he pointed at the lonely, silent and dark road. 'Wow, that's a life-changing discovery. I didn't know the roads were empty', it was hard to shut my inner-voice down that night. "Uncle, I'll...", I fell silent when he shot a death glare at me, as though he was offended because I called him an Uncle, and that was solely because he resembled an Uncle; white hairs, wrinkled eyes, and bushy moustache. My own father looked fifty folds smarter than him. "Bhaiya...", I corrected, slowly, and the intensity of his glare toned down. "Okay, Bhaiya...I'll walk to the railway station", I told him, and the next thing he did was – he scanned me from head to toe, and that was exactly when I wanted to punch his face but I held back the urge. "I have ran a marathon from the railway station to the office; it is pretty possible!", I aggressively said. "And I know I look unfit, but dare you underestimate my abilities. I have won many races at school and I am an extremely fast runner", I defended, angrily. "No—", he blankly whimpered. "What do you mean by 'No'? Have you seen me run? My mom says that I'm faster than light!", I served him my mom's over-over-exaggerated lie. "No, listen to me. Let me complete my sentence", he stressed on his words. "It's not safe right now. There are many drunkards on his road; they'll harm you", he warned. "But I'll have to go home, right!", I said, impatiently, and looked down at my wristwatch, which almost hit 11.34 p.m. "See, I wasted ten minutes talking to you; I would have reached the railway station by now, Uncle...Bhaiya!", I said in disdain. "No, no, I cannot let you go now. Wait until a Rickshaw comes, or call a cab", he suggested. "By the time the cab reaches, the train will leave. I'm telling you, I'll be alright, trust me. I have a black-belt in karate", I struggled to convince the man to let me go. "Good for you. But Sir will scold me if he finds out", the security said back. "Which Sir?", I narrowed my eyes. "Darshan Sir", he answered and I looked on, expecting him to say something more. "Sir has ordered not to let the girls walk leave on their own at night; he told me to make sure I send them off in a Rickshaw. This area is not safe at night", the security stated. "He will yell at me and fire me if he finds out that I didn't follow his orders. You cannot leave. Please", the security's orders turned into plead. "But your Darshan Sir will know only when you tell him, right?", I whispered loudly, and the security blankly stared at me. "Don't say anything to him, and if he asks you, say that I took a Rickshaw", I cooked up a lie for the security within nanoseconds. "No, no, no, no!", the security vigourously shook his head to the sides, and covered his mouth. "I cannot lie to Sir", he held his earlobe, and gently tugged it down. "Why?! Your Sir is God, or what?", I raised my brow. "How many times have you lied to God? I'm pretty sure when you lied to God, you wouldn't have reacted this way...obviously because God won't fire you for lying to Him. How hypocritical", I smirked, silencing the security guard. "Listen Uncle...sorry, Bhaiya...I'm going. You don't have to worry about anything – if Darshan happens to find out, I'll take the blame on me", I assured, but the man still looked unconvinced. "But, listen, it's not safe", the security repeated and I sighed. "Then, what do I do? Book a cab and miss the train? If I miss this train, I'll have to wait for the 4 a.m. train. I don't even have enough money to afford a goddamn cab ride all the way back home, and Rickshaws...do you see any Rickshaws here? Well, I don't and that means I need to get going. If I spend one more minute with you, I'll miss my train. Bye, Bhaiya!", I said in one breath, and marched away on the empty and narrow road, without bothering to stay back to hear his response.