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zindagī shāyad isī kā naam hai
dūriyāñ majbūriyāñ tanhā.iyāñ
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Ek aur din
kabhie kabhie to usko lagta tha jaise zindagi aise he chalte chalte guzar jaye gi aur bus zindagi ki talash mein aise he dhool khati rahe gi. Kabhi Iss shehr ki hawaon se lartay lartay, aur kabhi barish ko dil he dil mein sunaate huay. Shayed do gaz ki zameen to kabhie naseeb hogi nahi, magar haan roz dhool bun ke zaroor uss se lipat jaati. Uski khuwahishein to bohat assan thi. Magar zindagi ki uss ko samajh nahi aati thi. Sab ko ek din mar ke chale jaana tha to phir yeh sab kyun. Kyun woh itna khuwar ho rahi thi sirf ek din mar jaane ke liye.
Lekin chahe kyun hi na usski khuwahishein saadha thi, phir bhi woh zindagi se mohabbat karti thi. Yahi mohabbat thi ke woh roz khuwar hone ke liye tayyar karti. Bus sirf ek saadha lekin apni khud ki banayi hui zindagi ki talabghar thi. Zindagi mein kuch bhi uska nahi tha, na hi cheezin aur na hi rishte... woh sirf apne liye kuch karna chahti thi.
She stared at the high rise building as the bipolar clouds of Islamabad had parted slightly and given way to a few stray rays of the sun as they reflected off the mirrored windows. The rush of people whirled passed her, back and forth. She stood there for a second. Something in her told her to turn around because from what it seemed like she was only going to be wasting oxygen here and inhaling the toxic fumes of rejection. But Malka had sent her with all her hope and joy. She was one person Laila could never disappoint no matter what.
She sat down on the low brick boundary wall and took off the running shoes covered in mud and shoved them in a plastic bag then put them in her bag. She wore a pair of black ballet flats to match her dress. She'd learn early on that walking in ballet flats across the town meant murdering them in cold blood especially on the day after rain.
She held her folder channeling her inner Malka she walked past people who gave her an odd stare.
"Ab Allah ne ankhein di hai to log dekhein gein na. Tum wapis dekh lo hisab barabar."
Malka's voice made her grin. She looked down to hide her grin as she entered the glass doors. She was hit right in the face with warm air. She sighed with relief. The wind had her shivering outside. She glanced around for a welcoming face but either people went past her busy in their own world or threw her an odd stare. Then there were people like her who held their portfolios and waited to be called on. Her forehead creased as she looked back at the card given to her by Malka. There was nothing on it except the address. She furrowed her eyebrows further looking around. Her eyes stopped on the board.
Hiring Event.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. Hiring Event. Laila examined the lobby. It was swarming with fresh graduates and they were dressed to the nines in their impeccable suits and dresses. She shook her head in disappointment.
Mera to yahan chance choro... list pe naam bhi nahi aayega. Matlab Zaleel karney ki bhi had hoti hai, Malka. Thora to reham kar leti!
She wanted to call Malka and yell at her for sending her in here blind, wasting another day. She took a look at the departments, trying to find the least competitive department. By nine-thirty people around her were splitting up. She watched the groups of people leaving for designated floors. There was no way she was going to be even shortlisted with any of the real positions. Neither she had a name to gloat about, nor she had a reference to fall on.
She went over the list again of the people left behind.
Window Cleaners and Sanitation Technician
She looked at the windows and didn't even bother to count the floor. Yeah... No. She didn't understand the philosophy of life, but she wasn't at the point where she wanted to dive off the sky-high building.
Electronics Technician
It would be a miracle in the world if she even put together something with an instruction manual anything related to electronics.
Personal Assistant
"Duties to be discussed during in-person interviews." She read the description provided. For a company so renowned and so successful that was the sketchiest description she had ever read.
If she made it so far across the town, might as well just try it. Laila knew where her need for money and where her self-respect were on her priority list. Her faith in herself and her beliefs were strong enough that she knew she could walk out of anywhere if her faith or her self-respect were at risk. So she took the damn chance walked with the few people here for the Personal Assistant spot.
Kyun khoon jala rahi ho apna? She questioned herself as she stared at her fellow job seekers. They all had rather taken the vague description in a completely different way. She watched the girl at the end of the hallway freshen up the tint on her blood-red lips. The girl next to her probably had stared at herself for thousand times. She gave Laila a nasty look as Laila kept twiddling her thumb. Laila shrugged but she was far from stopping as the nervousness curled in her stomach.
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"You better find someone to clean up your shit." Zain's brain was going to explode. At this point, he'd rather wish for a brain tumor because either way he was going to die if he stayed too long near Shehryar.
"Why the fuck are you here again?" He rubbed the back of his neck. It seemed his muscles had rather turned into steel rods. Why in the world was he always stuck in a damn elevator with his brother?
Lesson #1: Never get emotionally blackmailed and hire your fucking family.
"If you stopped sleeping with your secretaries, and talked with your mouth instead of fists during meetings. I wouldn't be here." Zain slammed the buttons on the wall as the elevator took forever.
Shehryar smirked as he glanced at his brother's hand and raised his eyebrows at his brother. Talk with your mouth, eh? For a second he swore he saw steam coming out of his brother's ears. Zain was two seconds away from chewing his head off.
"I have the candidates here today. For the sake of my sanity and for the sake of this company's reputation, please choose someone who will last more than two weeks." Zain leaned forward putting his head on the elevator door as he begged his brother. "Please." He quietly whispered as the elevator reached the designated floor.
Ussko nahi pata kya tha Zain ki awaz mein jisne shayad un kuch lamhon ke liye usske ander se uss jalti aag ko hata diya tha. Shayad jab Zain ki awaz mein usne woh bebusi sunni jo ussne sirf saalon pehle sunni thi. Jab woh 14 saal ka tha aur Zainu sirf 10 saal ka tha. Jab duniya mein sab se khaas Zain ke liye uska bara bhai Sherry tha. Jab Sherry uske chote bhai Zainu ke liye duniya se lar jata. Lekin us zindagi ko jiye ab to kitni sadiyan guzar chuki thi.
"Woh."
He pointed at the girl sitting in the corner staring at the painting even as they walked past her.
"Woh!" Zain repeated after him in disbelief. He stared at the girl who had her grey dupatta on her head wrapped in the traditional way as the girls next to her fixed their hair multiple times. She was rather dressed in plain black shalwar kameez. The flats seemed rather too plain compared to the ridiculously high heels the other women had. "Woh?" He didn't know whether he was just shaken by his brother's choice or just felt sorry for the poor girl. Because the girl seemed like she'd be crushed to her death in two seconds by his brother. "Ya' Allah. Why her?" He followed his brother into his office.
"Because I won't sleep with her." Shehryar pulled on the tie around his neck and threw it on the black sofa in one corner of his office. "and I won't have to see your ugly face every single second of the day."
"God Bless her," Zain muttered under his breath as he turned around.
"From the looks of it, if your God had blessed her, she wouldn't be here." Shehryar was irritated with his brother his overt obsession with God.
"I'm not even going to start with you on that topic." Zain left him to stew in his irritation.
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Ajeeb log hein. Her eyes hurt for staring at the damn wall for two hours. Matlab agar nahi hire karna to bol do. Aise kyun baitha ke bande ko back problems dene hai. She shook her head.
She was the last one left. All the ones before her had gone into the conference room with hope and light in their eyes but had left with nothing but the scowl on their faces.
"Miss..." The guy who seemed like an intern called her, but he was confused staring at her for a few seconds too long. "Laila?" He seemed unsure of calling her name.
"That'd be me." She stood up in her place. She sighed in relief as her back stretched and the throbbing muscles in her back moved.
"Please come in."
She followed the intern inside and there was another man sitting at the other end of the table. He clearly seemed too frustrated to be there. She took her seat where the intern pointed and then he disappeared out in the corner.
"Miss Laila..." He flipped through her portfolio clearly looking for a last name, but she had none to offer.
"Sirf Laila." Her back straightened at the answer, steeling herself to answer the onslaught of questions and assumptions she always dealt with.
"Miss Laila. I'm Zain Ali, Human Resources Manager. I'm in charge of hiring personally for Mr. Ali." She could almost hear him gritting his teeth. "Nice to meet you." She nodded and returned the greetings.
"Miss Laila, yeh job aapke qualifications se kaafi neeche hai... aap ko iss se achi job mil sakti hai to aap phir yahan kaise." Zain cut all the bullshit of formalities and chased the main point. He wanted to get it over with and shove all the crap on the person who'd be dealing with his brother's tantrums. Although, he was slightly intrigued by the woman sitting across from him. The lady had bachelor's in Business Administration. Her academic history was stellar, but her information regarding her identity was rather vague.
"Sir, uska jawab aapke saamne hai." She held her head high and answered it. "I do not have a last name or any legal documents to provide that I'm a citizen of this country. Though I have a certificate and legal letter from St. Mary's Orphanage that I was raised here at the orphanage since I was a day old. Luckily I have been able to get education, but it seems no one is willing to hire without a last name or an ID I suppose." She had it repeated so many times over the years that now it was finally easy to say, but the years of bullying still brought the taste of bitterness on her tongue as she talked about her childhood. Her mind wheeled back for a second there.
Log apne bachon ko kyun nahi sikhate ke har koi ek jaisa nahi hota. Har kisi ki family mukhtalif hoti hai. Log kyun apne bachon ko nahi sikhate ke kisi ko bully karna kisi bhi umar mein sahi nahi hota. Woh jaanti thi ke woh yateem hai, ek lamhe ke liye agar woh bhoolna bhi chahti to koi bhi uske ird gird usko nahi bhoolne deta.
"Miss Laila..." Zain ran his hand through the mass of his raven black hair for the nth time, making Laila more frustrated. She knew he was going to reject her so why was he making this process longer than it needed to be. Just get the hell over with. "My brother... I mean Mr. Shehryar Ali is a... uh..." Zain blinked as he stared at the door behind her as if he was searching for words and could find none. "He is a complicated person with questionable actions. If you choose to accept this job you'll be dealing with a lot of mess-"
"Wait." She held up her hand as if she hadn't heard him correctly. "You are offering me the job?"
"Pehle aap sun lein. Phir aap decide kar lein." He blew out a sigh as he rubbed his forehead. The poor man literally looked like he'd rather be in hell than here. "Basically my brother is a mess and I need a baby sitter for him. So if you accept his job you'd have to be at his beck and call for all his needs." He stared at her expectantly.
"Uhhh." She was at a loss of words for a couple of minutes there. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm uhh not that kind of person if you mean by.. ."
"OHHH! uhh!" Zain shot straight in his chair, embarrassed as his face turned red. "NO! I DIDN'T MEAN THAT." He shook hands frantically. "I actually mean a baby sitter. I swear." He touched his neck, lightly pinching it. She didn't know if he could turn anymore redder, but his ears were turning as red as a tomato. She bit her tongue, trying to contain her laughter.
"I'd like to be very clear about my position here. I'll do whatever I can as long as it doesn't cross the boundaries of my personal life and working here won't threaten my religious beliefs, my self-respect and the way I choose to conduct myself in appearance... which will always be professional, I assure you of that."
"So you are accepting the job?" He frowned at her in disbelief.
"If you can put these clauses in my contract that if at any given point... if any of the above are threatened or disrespected I will have the freedom to leave right away without serving the two weeks' notice and compensation for the contract." She clasped her hands, making steady eye contact with him.
"Welcome to Wajdan Enterprises, Miss Laila." he didn't even say anything as he smiled with relief. "The cabin next to his office has been cleaned, but you'll likely be spending most of the time following him around. It's still there though. I'll still need to do the background and criminal check with all the papers you provided so I'll need the copies for all this. You may start from today. Mohib aapko office ka tour karva dega." He pointed at the intern who had earlier called her in.
She was about to leave with the little nerd who was too shy to speak otherwise.
"Miss Laila," Zain called her out before she could leave. "My brother is a mess and not an easy mess to deal with. I won't even say dil ka acha hai because I have nothing to back that up, but I will say this he is not going to make you uncomfortable for who you are so please find your courage to work here I really need someone to last longer than few weeks."
She blinked at him in confusion. What in the world was he on about?
"Good luck!"
Good luck! Ussne kabhie zindagi mein kabhie luck pe yaqeen nahi kiya. Uske pass wajah he nahi thi. Bus jo tha Qismat mein pehle se likha tha, ab baat sirf yahi thi ke woh aaram se iss sab ko qubool kare ya phir khoon jala kar roz qismat ko ilzaam deti rahe.
Aaj tak zindagi ne hamesha bohat naap tol kar usko sab dia tha. Bus utna he jitne mein woh zinda reh sake. Na jaane aaj zindagi usko kis raaste per mor rahi thi. Woh nahi jaanti thi. Per aaj usko thora sa itminaan hua ke. Aaj jo usko mila apni waja se mila chahe wo jo bhi tha. Thora dil mein sukoon tha ke shayad usse mein ab bhi thora hosla hai khud ke liye kuch karne ke liye. Aaj woh kisi ki meherbani per nahi jiye gi. Shayad ab usko kabhi kuch nahi maangna parega.
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I am writing this story keeping the law in mind that was there until a couple of years ago, where if you didn't have your birth form you weren't able to sign up for ID card.
STILL, IT's a fiction please keep that in mind regarding all the religious, cultural, or moral views.
Thank you
Love,
Sara