A Love Lost In Translation By Jannat Bhat

a love lost in translation By Jannat Bhat (Chapter Two)

Chapter Two

I spent about a year  in that studio. Being in a foreign country is not as much fun as it sounds. I'll be short and say that all those months we were looking for a job, were also rather argumentative than peaceful. J and I were trying so hard to find one. I mean yeah, I still received a few interview calls but for J, as hard as it was to believe, it was as quiet as the dead.  Not. One. Call. Made me question the smartness of the HR firms. Silence resulted in frustration which equaled short tempers leading to more fights and more crying. I felt drained and didn't know how much longer I could go on living a life this way. Being a Libran, I was a natural peace loving person. Being surrounded by lame and silly arguments, slight violence made me feel completely un-synced with myself.  One thing about me is that when a situation actually occurs, you will not find me react to it. I will keep it in for the longest time and then one day, burst out crying at a prick of a pin. Most people think me abnormal. Yes, I know, not a very healthy defense mechanism. 

By October 2015, J was finally settled in a job at a posh furniture chain, while I on the other hand, was just glad that all the men in my family were out of the house and more relaxed. I tried some more online job portals, but still nada. In December, we went out to dinner, J's treat at Wafi Gourmet at The Dubai Mall, occasion being Mum and Dad's 30th wedding anniversary. F joined us for a bit, but left quickly as he was on duty. We enjoyed the delicious Lebanese food and then were walking around the mall so that my tummy wouldn't burst . I was taking it all in as I was due to leave Dubai in two weeks time, unless my visa was renewed which wasn't possible right now.  While walking we stopped in front of a bookstore. The grandest bookstore I had ever laid eyes on. I had dropped my resume twice in here already, because c'mon, nothing can beat working in a bookstore. In J's words, it was a whole new universe once you step inside. You wouldn't want to leave. I didn't.

The YA section, the genre I was addicted to, span wide to shelves after shelves. I was ecstatic. There were so many books here that I had read and so many that I hadn't. There were a total of five counters in this bookstore, A through E, ranging in such amazing variety of categories. There were books here on topics that I didn't even know existed. So while we stood outside the book universe, my parents and J said to drop my resume in here once again.

"Give it a go. One last time before you leave. Maybe third time's the charm." said J.

I shrug and say, "Fine." And for a reason I don't remember, I had a copy of my resume in my bag. Why would I carry that for a dinner night out? Let's just call it fate.

So I walked in with J, went straight to customer service at counter A, and handed it over with a silent prayer to the Lord. A week before the anniversary, I had received a job offer from another bookstore and had worked there for like 3 days, and basically hated every minute of it. Why? Talk about devilish humans. So rude and haughty. I'm just glad I heeded Mum's advise and quit with a thanks but no thanks. 

A couple days later,  just an ordinary day, it was maybe around early afternoon. F was asleep due to his late shift last night, Mum & J  were busy with their devices, so was I when it started ringing. I didn't pick up as it was an unknown number. It was usually spam. Then I searched the number online just to be sure.  The search result had me saying, "Shit." 

I quickly and quietly go out the main door so as not to disturb F, and into the floor corridor and dialed the number again.

"Good afternoon. Book World Bookstore, How may I help you?", greeted a female voice.

"Yes, hi, I received a call from this number." I say.

"May I know your name please?" The voice asks pleasantly.