Observations of A Man

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Aman's introduction to Khushi was one of ecstasy. He had never done drugs, but he figured they couldn't be much better than this. That fine morning, his boss, the one he referred to, in his head of course, he was still very much in need of a neck to live, as PPP (Perpetually Pissed Personality) or P-Cubed for short, had called him into the office and told him to "get lost" for the next 30 days...before smirking, and telling him to remain reachable, just in case.

It took him exactly 4 mins 23 seconds to leg it out of the office, grab his bag and exit the building to the garage. He expected his phone to ring any second, Arnav's quiet yet deadly voice telling him that he hadn't actually meant for him to leave the office, just to get out of his office.

But the call never came, and for the first time since he started working for Arnav Singh Raizada, Aman enjoyed a sound nap followed by a movie in an actual theatre and some spicy, oily, roadside chaat.

He had been dreaming about sleeping. Yes, he had been dreaming about sleeping. Somewhere peaceful, with no rush hour traffic or noise, no screaming boss, no reason except his own free will to wake up. Blissful, uninterrupted, sleep.

Which is why it had seemed so cruel to be woken up by a blaring phone, one that had brought him the voice of his very pissed off boss, who had demanded that he return to office immediately.

In the end, his miraculous vacation had lasted five days, which was five days more than he had thought he would get so he should perhaps be thankful.

He saw Arnav march over to Lavanya's office and followed him, anticipating that it must be about the yearly AR calendar, trying to remember if there had been any news in his inbox about it, but failed to recall anything. He hoped he hadn't missed it because if Lavanya said she had already sent it over, ASR would murder him for sure. He seemed particularly in the mood for bloodshed that day.

"Oh hi ASR," he saw Lavanya greet him, her voice almost simpering.

"Toh iss cheez ki salary milti hain tum logon ko, doosre employees ka mazak undana," Arnav said, and Aman surmised that he had missed something.

"Sorry sir," Pam or Sim or some other -m said (he should perhaps remember their names, but he tended to only work with those who did some actual work and neither of these women suffered from that affliction), promptly abandoning their friend to run away.

"Calendar," Arnav said, looking back at Lavanya. And Aman held his breath in anticipation of a potential adult tantrum.

"Oh...Calendar. Uska kaam chal raha hain, main handle kar rahi hoon na," Lavanya replied, sweetly smiling at Arnav and walking over to him and Aman decided this upcoming conversation did not need an audience, and stepped aside to give his boss some privacy.

There were some faint traces of conversation that floated out, enough to let him know that they were talking, but not loud enough that he heard what was being said.

Just as Arnav walked out of the office, and Aman was about to ask him if he needed anything for his upcoming meeting, he heard Lavanya muttering, "Yeh sab uss Chamikili ki vajah se hua hain, pata nahi usne Nani ko kya kya bola hoga."

Arnav turned slowly, and Aman's eyes widened at the glare he threw Lavanya's way.

"Muhje aaj ke baad ye naam Chamkili iss office main sunayi nahi dena chahiye. Uska ek naam hain, Khushi Kumari Gupta. Sab usse usi naam se bulayenge," said his boss, his voice akin to steel, before turning around and marching off to his office.

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