Rashmi’s expression froze as her eyes fell upon the credit card in Shehnaaz’s hand. After a moment, she gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “I see you went to Professor Sen and complained about me, again. Shehnaaz, I
really do care about you. I want the best for you. You don’t have to appreciate what I do for you, but can’t you at least stop thinking of me as some kind of evil villainess, out to get you at every turn?”
“I never make assumptions about a person’s character.” Shehnaaz withdrew the credit card Kartik had given her and said, with a hint of sarcasm, “I only make inferences according to their behavior. Miss Desai, I don’t care what goes on inside that mind of yours, nor do I care about whatever private reasons you supposedly have for acting the way you do towards me. That’s none of my business, and I don’t want to know about it. All I want is to live peacefully for the next six months, and then return to India to continue my studies.”
Rashmi stared at Shehnaaz, her eyes filled with undisguised pity and sympathy. Shehnaaz squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. Shehnaaz sat down and resumed working on her computer. She kept her face deliberately turned towards her computer screen in an explicit display of hostility as she asked, “Miss Desai, is there something else?”
Rashmi sighed. She looked at Shehnaaz calmly.
Shehnaaz looked up from her computer and stared defiantly back at Rashmi.
She took in Rashmi’s slightly plump figure, her round face, her thin eyebrows, and her small mouth. Her nose was delicate and straight, and the corners of her eyes were slightly upturned—they were what were commonly known as “phoenix eyes,” similar to Kartik’s characteristic bright, almond-shaped eyes, except longer and narrower. She looked like a classical beauty who had just walked out from an old painting; her full figure and chubby cheeks were pleasant and attractive to look at—if she kept her mouth shut.
Shehnaaz seized the opportunity to carefully look Rashmi over. The longer she stared at her, the more familiar she seemed to Shehnaaz.
Who? Who does she remind me of? Shehnaaz’s thoughts ran wild as the cogs turned inside her head. Her eyes glazed over as she tried to remember.
Rashmi quietly watched Shehnaaz. When she saw that
Shehnaaz had zoned out, she smiled pleasantly and left the small office.
Shehnaaz was staring at Rashmi’s retreating back when it suddenly hit her. She knew now why Rashmi seemed so familiar to her.
Back in her Andheri apartment bedroom, in C City of India, there were several dolls she had played with as a child.
A dreamy princess outfit in pink gauze and purple organdy, thick bangs that covered the forehead, narrow eyes, a face as round and fair as a dinner plate, and a full figure—the dolls had resembled the young ladies commonly seen in classical paintings.
And now, they reminded her strongly of Rashmi. They were not entirely alike, of course; there were many differences between the two, but the overall feeling was the same…
Rashmi resembled her dolls. Why was that?
Shehnaaz chewed on her pen. She made up her mind to call Sidharth later that night to ask where the dolls had come from.
She kept herself busy with her work at the Committee of Appropriations. When it was time to call it a day, she finally discovered she no longer had access to the archives. Her access was now limited to the most basic files; everything else now said “Restricted Access” when she tried
to open them.
What could she do?
Oh well—time to grow mushrooms.
…
Later that evening, when she had returned to her apartment and was having dinner with Deepak, Shehnaaz brought up the subject of her dolls at the dining table.
“Brother Deepak, do you remember the dolls I had when I was a little girl? I carried them everywhere with me.”
“Yeah, I do. Why?” Deepak ladled out a bowl of soup and handed it to her. “Drink up, it’s Chinese yam with pork ribs. It’ll help you grow taller.”
Shehnaaz was not in a hurry to drink her soup. She got out her phone and pulled up a photo of Rashmi. “Don’t you think she looks like my dolls? Thin eyebrows, a small mouth, phoenix eyes, kind of chubby?”
Deepak glanced at the photo dismissively. “…Thin eyebrows, a small mouth, phoenix eyes, kind of chubby— you’ve just described about a third of all the women from the Indian northwestern provinces. If you actually thought
those facial features were in any way special, well, congratulations, you’ve narrowed it down from one in a billion to one in every ten million.”
“Oh? So you don’t think she looks like my dolls?” Shehnaaz’s large eyes were round with surprise. Her dark pupils glittered like the best-quality obsidian under the
lights. “Really? They don’t look alike—at all?”
“They look similar, but I wouldn’t say they look alike. It’s a generic similarity, like a racial stereotype. You know how white people look similar to one another, right? Well, the same goes for black people, and so on and so forth—get it?”
Deepak patted her on the shoulder. “The similarity is superficial. There’s nothing more to it.”
Shehnaaz carefully scrutinized Rashmi’s photo. Deepak was right—the similarity seemed to be superficial.
The sudden wave of nostalgia and familiarity that had come over her in her office that morning was completely gone now.
She sighed and turned off her phone. “Guess I was being paranoid.”
“I thought you hated her? A lot? Why would you relate her to your favorite dolls?” Deepak found the idea extremely amusing. He continued chatting with Shehnaaz
about it as he cut up his steak.
“I hate her guts. The first time we met, she tried to sabotage me, and I’ve never liked her since. But she’s Professor Sen’s assistant—she’s always around, whether I
like her or not.” Shehnaaz drank her entire bowl of soup in one go, and then began picking out the Chinese yam inside to eat.
“Well, don’t spend so much time thinking about her then. Just ignore her. The more you spend time hating her, the more important she becomes to you. Why make things difficult for yourself?” Deepak had finished cutting his steak into little pieces. He poured the gravy over the steak pieces, and began shoving them into his mouth with a fork.
His eyes twinkled with gastronomic bliss.
Shehnaaz was done eating. She rested her chin in a hand and began talking about the supplier. “…I was able to find the details of the supplier yesterday, but today, they were all locked behind restricted access. I can’t see them
anymore.”
Deepak paused. “Restricted access?”
“Yup. I was able to retrieve the data and reports yesterday, so I’m positive the extra security measure was only added today.” Shehnaaz nodded confidently.
Deepak thought for a moment. “I know what happened. They probably added some sort of trigger in the list of suppliers. If someone not on their internal white-list tries to look up this specific supplier, the file immediately goes into restricted access. It’s a very simple encryption method that can be carried out automatically with a script. Well, at least we know now that there is definitely something fishy about this particular supplier.”
“Have you told Uncle Sid about it?” Shehnaaz looked at Deepak eagerly. “If you haven’t, I can tell him, on your behalf!”
Deepak looked at her. He suddenly grinned. “I mentioned it, but I wasn’t very clear. I think it would be better for you to tell him about it yourself.” He winked at
her.
Shehnaaz leapt to her feet, bursting with joy. “I’ll call him,
right away!”
She rushed to her room, slammed the door shut, and immediately dialed Sidharth’s number on her phone.
Deepak remained seated at the dining table. He stared at the door to Shehnaaz’s room as he ate his dinner, a thoughtful expression on his face.
…
Shehnaaz flopped onto her bed. She had finally gotten through to Sidharth’s phone.
“…Uncle Sid?” Shehnaaz turned over to lie on her back, the corners of her mouth already curved upwards.
Sidharth was in the middle of a meeting. He heard Shehnaaz call his number over his headset; he answered the call, then immediately hung up. He took out his phone and texted her: I’m in a meeting.
Shehnaaz read Sidharth’s message over and over again, wishing her intense staring would magically make it longer.
But that was it.
Sidharth was in the middle of discussing with his subordinates the viability of sending a research vessel to the Gulf of Aden.
“Our investigations show that Physical World was founded by a professor of physics from Harvard University. It’s a small, limited liability company—not a public company—and all the registration details for it remain highly classified.”
Lieutenant Colonel Jeet, who oversaw North American intelligence, was standing on the podium in the conference room, presenting the results of their investigations. “Abhay Greedy ’s defection from two months ago severely crippled our Secret Service operations and intelligence network in North America. We would have been able to find out a lot more about Physical World, if it hadn’t been for that.” He shook his head regretfully as he stepped down from the podium and seated himself in one of the chairs below.
Sidharth was silent for a moment. Finally, he said: “Send a research vessel to the Gulf of Aden. Two warships will act as an escort. Those amateur pirates in the Gulf of Aden would never dare
approach a military warship.”
“We’ll have to coordinate with the Southern Military Region if we want to send warships,” said Reva Reddy. She was not only a colonel, but also the head of the Legal Department for the 6th Military Region. “It’s either them or the Eastern Military Region—these are the only two military regions with a naval fleet.”
“We’ll cooperate with the Southern Military Region.” Sidharth turned on his computer and looked at the map of territorial waters. “There are many places of interest in the South China Sea, it’ll be easier to work from there.”
“That’s true. We have plenty of natural wonders in the South Indian Sea to protect, don’t we?” Everyone laughed in implicit understanding.
After the meeting was over, Reva waited for everyone to leave before saying to Sidharth: “Sir, my aunt will be going there in person this time. Don’t worry—if there’s
anything remotely suspicious about the area, she’ll find it.”
Reva’s aunt, Kirat Reddy, was a famous physicist in India. She was in her fifties, and had never
married—rumor had it that she was completely obsessed with her research, and considered marriage and having children to be a waste of time.
Six years ago, it had been Kirat who had first discovered the abnormal magnetic field emanating from a particular
section of C City. Back then, Sidharth had been tasked with the duty of protecting her. Now, the same magnetic field had appeared again. It was naturally up to Kirat to investigate it.
“We’ll just have to do our best.” Sidharth was not feeling optimistic about the excursion. India was only sticking their finger into the pie because the other countries were sending their warships to the area.
Although the data collected from the magnetic field matched the data from six years ago, the magnetic field had appeared under the sea, this time around—there were too many unknown factors, and Sidharth did not think it was wise to invest too much effort into the investigation.
Reva saw that Sidharth was no longer interested in the conversation, and excused herself.
Sidharth returned to his office and looked at his watch. It was 11 o’clock in the morning; it would be 11 o’clock at night over in the US east coast. He thought about it, and decided to call her back.
“What is it, Sana?” As soon as his voice sounded over the phone, Shwhnaaz immediately felt her ear grow hot and feverish.
“I just wanted to talk to you about Physical World, Uncle Sid. I wanted to look up a few more things today, but the report had already been locked behind restricted access. I can’t see it anymore.” Shwhnaaz held the phone close to her right ear, and made sure to keep her voice low.
Sidharth frowned. “Then don’t go snooping after it anymore. Don’t draw any unnecessary attention to yourself.”
“Okay, I won’t,” Shehnaaz said obediently.
Deepak had said the same thing, but as usual, she had refused to listen.
The exact same words were now coming from Sidharth, and she immediately agreed with him. She
decided not to risk going through the archived files again.
“Is there anything else? It’s already 11 o’clock. Why aren’t you asleep?” Sidharth put on his headset and walked out of his office to get lunch at the cafeteria.
Shehnaaz did not want to hang up so soon. She talked about Rashmi and her dolls. She asked, with great interest, “Uncle Sid, where did you buy my dolls? Did you get them from one of the Western provinces?”
“Buy?” Sidharth smiled. “It was custom-made. You can’t buy it off a rack.”
“Custom-made?” Shehnaaz was taken aback. “What made you think of getting custom-made dolls for me?”
Sidharth took a moment to reply. “I’ll tell you on your 18th birthday.” With that, he hung up.
“Okay.” Shehnaaz bit her lip as she rubbed her numb, feverish ears.
Sidharth’s voice had been heavenly music to her. She could hear her heart beating in her ears—was this the sound of love?
Sidharth had hung up; there was no longer any sound coming from her phone, but Shehnaaz was reluctant to remove it from her ear as she lay on her bed. A breeze entered through the window, bringing with it the coolness of the night.
Her heart was on fire. Her cheeks were warm. She felt the heat coursing through her even more keenly in the evening wind.
Shehnaaz wiped her face and sat up, hugging her knees. She sighed. She realized now how much she missed Uncle Sid. She really, really wanted to see him, and talk to him
face to face.
When he eventually married and had children, she would no longer be able to call him whenever she liked.
Shehnaaz closed her eyes. She was about to turn off the lights and go to sleep when she heard her phone ring again.
This time, it was a call from Parth.
Shehnaaz’s long, slender fingers reached out and unlocked the phone. She answered the call.
“Parth?”
“Sana, who were you talking to? You were on the phone for so long. Isn’t it almost midnight, over there?” Parth’s voice was skeptical and uneasy. It was completely unlike his usual gentle tone.
“…Something came up.” Shehnaaz did not think it was necessary to give Parth a detailed report. “Well, what about you? Why are you calling me at this hour?”
“What, I’m not allowed to call if there isn’t an emergency?” Parth said quietly. “I miss you. Do you miss me?”
Shehnaaz’s heart softened. “Yeah, I miss you too. What are you doing?”
“I just finished a meeting, I’m off to have lunch now.” Parth walked over to the window in his office and stood before it. He shoved his free hand in his trouser pocket as
he gazed at the clear, sunny sky beyond the window.
“Sana, you’ll be celebrating your 18th birthday next month. I want to go to America and celebrate with you, is that okay?”
“Okay, sure.” Shehnaaz smiled happily. Her heart warmed at the thought of all the people who would be celebrating her birthday with her this year. She was going to be 18. An adult. But once she was legally an adult, she would no longer require a guardian.
Shehnaaz’s heart immediately sank at the thought.
Her voice sounded nasally as she tried not to cry.
Parth did not appear to have noticed. On the other end of the phone, he described to her, with great enthusiasm, his plans for her birthday. He asked her what
she wanted for her present.
Shehnaaz smiled. “I’m just happy to have you here. I don’t really care what you get me for my present.”
“I hate it when you say that.” Parth laughed lightly.
“From my experience, the people who claim they aren’t picky always turn out to be pickier than everyone else.”
“Haha, you know me all too well, Parth. Well, that’s just who I am—what can you do about it?”
“What can I do? I want to straighten you out, of course, correct all your bad habits. I’ll turn you into my ideal woman, my Goddess, and love you forever.” It was rare for Parth to be so open and honest about his feelings for Shehnaaz.
It sounded awfully twisted, so Shehnaaz didn’t hesitate to argue. “You want to correct my bad habits and turn me into your little pet? Or your trophy? No, Parth. I don’t want to be a conquest.”
“Sana?” Parth looked at his reflection in the window and was startled by the desperate smile he saw on his face.
He tried to speak with some more confidence. “Don’t be so quick to say no. When we fall in love, we naturally feel inclined to become a better person for our lover. Won’t you do this for me as well?”
Shehnaaz was stunned. She thought about it carefully and
shook her head. “No, you can’t make me change myself into someone you would like. You either take me as I am and try to accept and work with my flaws, or you go find someone as perfect as to your liking. But, I won’t change myself for you.”
Parth’s smile faded and he frowned in displeasure. Even if she disagrees can’t she say it in a nicer way? He thought angrily. Mahira was better than Shehnaaz
in this regard. Even if Mahira disagreed, she would never openly argue with him. Instead, she would gradually and gently work her way through his decision so that in the end they would come to a mutual agreement without his ego being hurt. As for Shehnaaz however, she was still too young to understand the need for compromise and obedience.
Parth sighed. This young lady still needed to be taught so much. Even though it was tiring to teach her, he could see so clearly how he could completely shape her as he
pleased—unlike with Mahira’s gentle stubbornness. Parth was aware that it would be more tiring to be with Shehnaaz in the beginning because it would take a lot of effort to change her, and smooth out her rough edges, and control her insolence. But in the end, they would be perfect together. Shehnaaz would make him her priority in life and become an obedient woman who loved him forever, and unconditionally. As for Mahira, although he liked her, he couldn’t
forget her betrayal. This would be something he could never get over; it was the one shortcoming that blotted out all he liked about her. Even though Shehnaaz had many shortcomings, she had the advantage of youth, beauty, and
intelligence. She also didn’t have a strong family background and therefore wouldn’t give him trouble since she didn’t have support from her own family. This kind of girl would be the most suitable for an heir like him. Parth
didn’t need an arranged marriage to obtain certain interests.
“Sana, don’t be so obstinate.” Parth perked up.
“You don’t want to change for me now, because you still don’t love me deeply. Once our relationship develops, though, you’ll naturally want to change for me. Even if I
don’t say anything, you’ll want to be your best self in front of me.”
Shehnaaz grew silent when she heard his words. She lay on the bed with one arm curled on her panda pillow and the other holding the phone. She stared at the ivory reliefs on the ceiling and a voice in her heart whispered: the only person in the world I would change and improve myself for is Uncle Sid. She respected him and placed all of her trust in him because he was the one person in her life who made her feel safe, and had supported her throughout her entire life; a man of power, kindness, and strength not just in
status, but in his character as well. She would do anything to be her best self for him.
But, Shehnaaz realized, what does that have to do with the
love Class Rep and I are talking about? Shehnaaz made up
her mind after thinking some more and then told Parth gently, “Parth, I think you’re wrong. We’ll want to become better people because of the expectations and care from our elders, and the lull of society. But in a relationship, we should be free to be ourselves. If you can’t accept me for the person I am, then don’t even think about changing me to satisfy your requirements. That’s not something I can, or will, do.” She paused, then calmy continued, “You shouldn’t waste any more time with me.”
Parth’s heart skipped a beat as he raised his voice.
“Sana?! What are you saying? Just because I’m asking for this one thing, and you want to break up over it?! I don’t agree! I won’t allow it! Listen to me, I don’t agree!” Parth waved his arm while he paced in front of the
window, venting his rage. Thankfully, the office was on the
thirtieth floor, so he didn’t have to worry about anyone witnessing him losing his temper. Frightened by his sudden outburst, Shehnaaz could only try to console him. “Parth, Parth, calm down. Go, take a deep breath and drink a glass of water. Good, now set it down and sit on the couch, ok?”
Her voice was soft and sweet, and like magic, it compelled him to follow her instructions. When he sat on the couch, he looked at the empty glass of water on the coffee table in front of him and wryly said, “Sana, I was talking about
changing you, but you’re actually the one changing me.”
Shehnaaz giggled. “I’m not capable of that. Class Rep has
always had good self-restraint, to begin with; I was just reminding you of that.” The words “Class Rep,” seemed to increase the distance between them again.
Parth was annoyed at himself for making such a stupid mistake. This young lady obviously hadn’t fallen head over heels for him yet, but he had already made such
possessive requests. He had been too impatient and had now scared her off.
“Sana, that was my mistake earlier. You’re such a wonderful girl, so what would I even have to change? Even if something changed, that wouldn’t be you anymore. I like you just the way you are.” Parth gripped the phone, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “See, that’s why long
distance relationships are so unreliable. I can’t even make it up to you in person after we fight.”
Shehnaaz laughed quietly and corrected him. “Parth, we’re not in a relationship yet. Don’t forget, we have a six-month promise.” They had promised each other that if Parth still wanted her to be his girlfriend when Shehnaaz returned to India in six months, she would officially agree.
“Mhmm, well, see? That’s how much I love you. I already see you as my girlfriend. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made that silly request.” Parth’s honeyed words and baritone voice were very alluring. “Sana, you have to forgive my foolishness. You studied psychology so you should know that people are the most demanding of the people they care about the most.”
Shehnaaz had indeed studied psychology for half a semester, but only to learn about her own psychological state of mind and to find a way to restore her memories.
She hadn’t paid much attention to anything else. When Parth mentioned this, she faintly recalled that there was such a concept in psychology.
“Fine, fine, don’t apologize anymore. It’s normal for two people to have conflicting views, so why else would we have to learn to get along? Isn’t that right? It’s a long process for two completely different people to become of one body and one mind.” Shehnaaz was able to fluently analyze the relationship from a psychological perspective. Empty talk had always been her specialty.
Parth frowned in disagreement, but knew that he would just upset her; he didn’t want to say anything else that would provoke her.
Mahira, meanwhile, had been waiting at the restaurant downstairs for a long time, but Parth hadn’t shown up for lunch. She decided to go to him directly when her call went unanswered again.
“Parth, do you want lunch? I brought something for you,”
Mahira called out as she opened his office door and walked in with a bag of food.
Parth looked up and made a silent signal as he spoke to Shehnaaz. “Ok my little psychologist, it’s late. You should go to bed.”
Shehnaaz murmured, “Easy for you to say, after causing such an emotional ruckus.”
“Go to sleep.” Parth said tenderly, chuckling at her comment. “Mua, a goodnight kiss for you.”
Shehnaaz found herself covered with goosebumps and immediately ended the call without a word. She tossed the
phone onto the sofa all the way across from the bed, as though it had suddenly burned her.
…
“Who were you calling? That was an awfully sweet goodbye.” Mahira sat next to him, glancing at his phone screen just in time to see Shehnaaz ’s photo disappear. ” Was it your little girlfriend?”
“The little one got upset, so I had to coax her.” Parth reached over and embraced Mahira. He tilted his head and saw her pout. “What? Are you jealous?”
*
*
*
I hope you enjoy reading it.
Love you all.