"How did your interview go today, Aksh?" Lillian asked as she stood beside me, wiping the remainder of the glasses while I poured and mixed the drink orders.
It was 8pm and the dinner time rush had just started pouring in. I wasn't supposed to work today but I practically begged my co-worker and friend, Betty to give me her shift. I couldn't be left alone with my thoughts. I knew I wasn't going to get the Birla Hospital internship so thus I was going to have to try my luck elsewhere, probably by giving private therapy sessions in order to complete my thesis research paper on time.
"Horrible," I confessed. "I don't think I'll be getting the position. But the doctor who interviewed me was rude too, so I don't regret not getting it." Liar! You do regret it! And Dr. Abhimanyu wasn't rude, he was just very straightforward. I don't know why I was defending his behaviour —to myself out of all the people —but I was. Like an idiot.
"Oh, better luck next time!"
I gave her a weak smile and organized the drinks on her tray and watched her disappear in the crowd of patrons.
A little notification went off on my phone and I checked to see that I had recently received an email. I quickly tapped on my Gmail account and saw that it was from the Birla Hospital Human Resources department. Probably a rejection letter.
At first I decided to ignore it but then decided against it. I couldn't keep hiding from the truth. I had to face it sometime and the best time was now, surrounded by alcohol.
I tapped on the email, preparing myself for a "Sorry" but instead was greeted by a "Congratulations! You have been selected for an Internship at the Birla Hospital Music Therapy Department."
I did a double take and re-read the email, thinking I had made a mistake reading it the first time round but no. It was written clear as day, that I had managed to land myself an internship at the Birla Hospital despite what I considered a disastrous and grueling interview.
"One beer please. Whatever's on tap is fine."
I knew that voice. I had heard it this past weekend. And I had definitely heard it earlier this morning. I looked up to find Dr. Abhimanyu Birla standing right in front on me, in flesh.
"You?!"
Abhimanyu raised in eyebrows in question. "Me."
"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I don't know why I was whispering. But at this point I was receiving shock upon shock and I honestly didn't know what else to do.
"I came here to have a drink." He whispered back. "But why are we whispering?"
I gulped and straightened myself out out before pouring him a beer. I needed to get a grip on myself. I shoved the glass of beer towards him and tried to get myself busy in making other drinks —but the only problem was that there weren't any other drink orders to complete. And the other patrons sitting at the bar around me were busy idle chitchatting amongst themselves.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
Should I have asked that? Should I be more respectful considering he is going to be my boss now? That I will be working under him? Just the thought of being under him brought a crash course of very dirty thoughts to be flooding my brain with very vivid imagery which I did not need. Stop it, Akshu! Working WITH him, I corrected. Not under him. Working with him.
I could see that he looked as if he was in deep thought about whether to give me the easy answer or say the truth of why he was actually here. "I wanted to see if you were doing okay."
"Okay?"
"After the panic attack. I wanted to see how you were holding up." Abhimanyu paused to take a gulp of his beer. "I was worried."
His confession made my heart flutter. He was worried about me? Why did that make my heart skip a beat? No one ever worried about me. But he did.
"Oh. Yeah, I'm doing okay. Good actually."
He nodded his head. "Good."
"Yeah. Good."
"Good."
I nodded my head. We both stared at each other, neither of us willing to look away from the other. The silence was overbearing. The awkwardness was riveting. There was so much I wanted to say to him. But I couldn't find the right words. But I wanted to talk to him.
"How'd you know I was going to be here?"
"I didn't. I just thought I'd take a chance."
So he had come all the way across town, just to see me, and even then had not been sure if he'd be able to meet me? Who was this man? He was definitely not the man who had interviewed me earlier this morning.
"By the way, I got the position. At Birla Hospital. Just received the email."
He nodded his head, "Good, you deserved it."
"Thanks."
He nodded his head and took another sip of his beer. I nodded my head in acceptance but just something about the offer didn't sit right right with me.
"Did you offer me the internship just because of what I said before leaving? If yes then..."
"Then what?" He asked, straightening up in his chair and leaning forward so that he was closer to me.
"Then I can't accept the internship. It's not fair to the rest of the candidates who weren't given a chance to speak what was actually in their heart."
"So you're saying I helped you —indirectly by lashing out at you for in frustration for mundane and repeated answers of your colleagues? And that I inadvertently caused you to provide me with the answers I was actually wanting?"
I turned my head away from his face. "Yes."
"So you're saying had it been one of your colleagues instead of you, they'd have provided me with heartfelt and honest answers just like yours?"
I hesitantly nodded my head. "Yes," I whispered back.
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but your truthful answers were not the reason you were hired for the internship."
I looked up at Abhimanyu's face, shock and confusion being highlighted on my face as bright as a neon sign.
"It's not?"
"No. I'm sorry if you think of me in such a small regard but that's not the reason."
"Then what was it?"
"You know I can't tell you that."
"Right, sorry. I apologize."
But I wanted to know. I needed to know. If it wasn't for my honest and truthful answers to his questions then what was it?! Suddenly it hit me. Oh no, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be! Could it?
"Is this your way of paying me back?"
I could see the mask of confusion envelop Abhimanyu's face. Damnit! Had I spoken too much?
"What?"
"Is you hiring me as a music therapy intern you returning the favour for the time I helped drop you home after you passed out drunk? Because if it is, then I definitely don't want that internship."
"First of all, we have to stop talking about what happened that night. Thank you for dropping me home but we need to nip that matter in the bud. I was not in the bestest of moods that day."
When are you ever in a good mood, I scoffed to myself.
"And second of all, I don't mix business with my private life. Ever. Work is work. So no, please get that thought out of your head that you were offered the job at work because of you did for me when I was off duty, in my personal life. I have never mixed work with personal life and I never will."
Abhimanyu's confession stung. He did not mix his work and personal life but yet he was here, sitting right in front of me, on his own personal time, talking to me about his work life.
He came all the way from the other side of town, taking time out of his personal life to find out how I was doing. He came to check up on me, make sure I was alright all because I had a panic attack in front of him at his work, today early morning. Who did that? But yet he did not mix work and personal life together.
Abhimanyu Birla was indeed a very confusing man whose actions did not match his words at all. He wanted to show the world that he did not care, that he was unaffected but yet cared with every ounce of his being. He wanted to come across as heartless, but he was the anything but. This man was a mystery. And I wanted to be the one to solve him.
"Okay, then why was I offered the internship?"
Now I really wanted to know. For my sanity. Because it was driving me crazy not knowing why he thought I deserved the position over the other candidates. Because as far as I knew my colleagues, they were as equally talented as me.
"I can't tell you that. It's going to be a HR issue then."
"It would be an HR issue anyway because you are here talking to me about the offer, wouldn't it?" I retorted.
Abhimanyu grinned, "Touché."
"Thanks." If he could be cocky, the least I could do was be snarky. "So...why?"
Abhimanyu took a deep breath and fidgeted with the rim of his beer mug. "Because of your panic attack," he finally confessed.
"What?" Now it was my turn to be taken off guard.
"I had decided to offer you the position when you were having a panic attack."
"As a pity offer?" My blood started to boil and I started to see red. Pity! That was even worse than a favour!
"No. Not pity. Never pity." Abhimanyu looked at me looking for confirmation that I understood that he didn't pity me.
"But when you started singing to control your panic attack, that's when I witnessed first hand how music can help soothe, treat, and heal people, patients. I want my patients to be treated by someone who really understands the stress, pain, trauma they go through and there is no one better to guide them than someone who has been through the same thing. I've seen first hand how music therapy has helped you, and I want you to do the same for my patients. That is why I offered you the position."
I was taken aback by his words. Never in my life did I think a practical stranger would be able to read me that thoroughly. As he was explaining his reasoning for offering me the position, every single word of his felt like he was uncovering me —the real me —piece by piece. I felt naked under his detailed explanation.
Without waiting for me to find the right words to reply back with, he got up from his chair and placed a $20 bill on the counter and gently pushed it towards me. "Keep the change. I'll see you tomorrow, 9am sharp. Don't be late."
And with those words, he was gone. And all I was left with was a feeling of shock and confusion. Here I was, planning upon solving the mystery that was Dr. Abhimanyu Birla. But little did I know that he would be the one unraveling the well kept secrets of Akshara Goenka.