Do You Know?
The hangover of overachieving your target can bring a sense of accomplishment which is hard to shake off.
Back to work, the days are moving by slow. There is yet time to start with the plans for the next financial year. The process is more or less set in motion for work and Mehr is conveniently managing her reading sessions in between intense rounds of office meetings and client calls.
Her intense eyes darting through the room and long breaks with Dr. Sana had gone unnoticed by even her boss, dismissing it as her quirky ways of delivering perfection. She had by now become vary of her team mates and their ways of work, Mehr being one of those. Burying herself in piles of printed sheets and books, which even her favorite boss lady; Rajshree never wanted to read. She was not much of a reader herself. People management was her strong point.
"Hey Mehr, how are you liking the workplace?" Nirvan asked Mehr crossing her in the hallway, catching her half scared, half surprised.
"Oh Hi!" Mehr smiled. She knew it was difficult to get by with her extra curriculars without being spotted by Nirvan in this Hospital. He was almost like the Naarad Muni of this little world, omnipresent and always in the loop of everything like EVERYTHING that went down. Be it gossip or serious work. "All good, I'm actually getting along with people better than I expected". "how are things with you" She was polite, and wanted to catch up too, now realizing how long it had been since she last spoke to him.
"All good, just checking in what you're upto?" Nirvan looked at the stack of papers she held in her arms as she walked side by side. "Also, there's an amazing piece of cake from my kid's birthday cake sitting in the fridge for you to take. Rest of the people on the floor have had their share."
Both walked along, as Mehr shared simple pointers about her interactions with Dr. Sana, careful to only share enough as to justify her long hours in her cabin and short enough to not spark any concerns"
Nirvan seemed seemingly interested and disengaged at the same time. He was glad, Mehr had left the mystery of 913 behind for now and was seemingly buried in work.
Eyeing Kshitij from the corner of his eyes, Nirvan sensed his displeasure. "Hey Mehr, you have been travelling for work, a while now. So have you met anyone special yet? "Nirvan caught her off gaurd.
"Umm yeah, kind of. I am back to the dating pool now, hopeful of finding my person, just like you found yours. But it is too early to say." Mehr smiled a hopeful smile.
"See, I told you, I have seen stories develop in this firm" Nirvan smiled cheerfully.
"Umm no, naa, never". . . Mehr was immediately on her guard. "Never date in your workplace, it is a cardinal rule of mine, inspired by a bollywood movie" Mehr chuckled.
"Wait what? I thought Kshitij had some scope." Nirvan considered his words before proceeding. "I mean it is visible how he takes offence every time anyone approaches to talk to you. The angst is almost palpable." Nirvan was cautious not to overstep his professional lines.
"No yaa, not him. Nevaaa" Mehr exclaimed, a person with weak aura is the last thing she needed in her life. "I bear with his tantrums, that's more than enough" Mehr sighed.
"Nirvan looked puzzled, but his eyes were not to be easily fooled. He knew what he saw in Kshitij, raw rage in his eyes, every time any man even hovered around Mehr's workstation.
"He likes you, for sure." Nirvan smiled knowingly, leaving Mehr puzzled. "He has a solid scene going on with some pretty lady, there is no way that calculated guess of yours holds true". "You're quite an agony auntie for a grown man aren't you" Mehr smiled mischievously.
Dismissing Nirvan like shooing him away Mehr went back to work. He was probably one of the few seniors she could be childish around without the fear of being judged harshly. He was responsible, resourceful and yet humble.
Mehr stacked up her papers and decided to hide them in her drawer, below all the patient files which were yet to be analyzed. Her boss was reviewing the work process for their next quarter plans, which included some government funded projects and a new drug trial for Malaria. A lot of work needed to be done, some major trial projects were in the pipeline. Mehr wondered if renovation of room 913 was also part of this big facelift. She surely wanted to propose a facelift for that weird space with creepy vibes. More space for her patient files and clinical trial database, too much of boxes had gathered in the common area and many people from the admin floor had been vocal of their displeasure around space utilization.
Some flowers and maybe a bright color is what this place needed, the sterile smell of antiseptics and surface cleaners was so depressing anyway. Mehr was on a train of thought changing stations one after another, when Richa snapped a finger in front of her face.
"Back to the real world, shall we? We got work to do" Richa adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose as if to deliver an important speech. Mehr stared at her intently only to have her raise her brows like, "What? I'm done" ,"snap out of whatever multiverse you were planning your castles in." The way she said it, it was less of sarcasm and more of genuine disinterest for she was rarely attuned to such musings of her colleague. Richa knew her key role and chose to stick to it, "Do what you're paid for. Not what you can. Corporate 101" She would say. For her each patient file was a number in a sea of data pool, while for Mehr they were individual lives, compressed into pages with the minimum information possible to protect patient privilege.
Mehr couldn't help but admire how to the point Richa was. She was self aware of her habits and quirks, but she knew how to keep the reigns tight and not let her thoughts run astray. Mehr was more of Alice, getting overwhelmed by her thoughts every now and then. Each trial they conducted, each successful case they had was a life, a person, an amalgamation of many stories come together, not just a mere number on the system and a file in the cupboard.
Shubham whistled around, going by his work, carrying a fresh lot of prints from the new campaign. Chirpy fellow as usual, he went around to Kshitij to show the good work. "Great work man! the prints are purrr-fecto. Kshitij did a Chef's kiss motion in the air as Shubham stacked the prints in a corner. These were to be taken to different event sites within the next ten days for the gala event. "So you planning to take the company car or coming by on your own?" Shubham asked Kshitij.
"I dunno man, I guess I'd come by on my own." I don't like the idea of running pillar to pole for approvals and signs. I'd rather pick my ride and come by. "But why waste your money and your fuel for work related roles. There are budgets and designated vehicles for those." Shubham shrugged. "You do you, It's my way or highway" Kshitij smirked. Shubham decided not to school him further, he did his part providing guidance. Rest was up to his team members to choose. His personal choice was to avoid conflict as much as possible and maybe even out of pocket expenses for work. Pretty sorted that way, he had come a long way and learnt his lessons through experience. Good or bad, no one could know since he masked it well with his humor.
On the day of the event, Mehr and Richa decided to doll up in ethnic wear much like the rest of the females on the staff. Greeting anxious and haughty bureaucrats to over look the clinical data and let go of some of the rules flouted around patient safety and privacy was no easy feat and Dr Bhavika wanted her entire staff to not make any mistake whatsoever. Be it presentation, or otherwise, she had spent months with her team, to bag this project, even hired a holistic healer and had her trusted Rajshree overlook the trial runs while handling tantrums from the practitioner Dr. Sana and her quirky ways. Everything had to go smooth.
This would be the first time Richa wears a saree, in her entire life. "#$%^& what am I supposed to do with this extra length of drape? I wanna use the washroom man!" Richa exclaimed as she saw Mehr coming by. For a first timer, the Indian drape could be challenging to carry. For Richa with her tomboyish outlook, it was quite a struggle. "Calm down, breathe" Mehr said, as she gestured Richa to breathe in and out, to stop her from hyperventilating. "I cannot, I need to Pee. Get it?" Richa had her eyes wide, staring at Mehr. "GO, simple. It is like a skirt only re. Adjust the pleats once you're done. It's not going anywhere. Trust me." Varsha said, while Mehr nodded in agreement. "Wait that's it? That's all? And it won't come undone? " Richa stared in disbelief, but then rushed to the ladies room and found some much needed relief. "Guys, this is such a cool thing to wear, I'm never taking it off, Richa twirled around like a little girl in a new frock." Varsha could not stop but giggle at how the oh so serious Richa had turned into a giggly little girl because she learnt how it was not so difficult to use the restroom while wearing a Saree. Little joys of life.
The day went by gleefully, with loads of hustle and bustle. Everyone was busy meeting and greeting the guests coming in from near and far. Officials with decades of experience, in awe of the luxuries a corporate setup provided, sans the intellectual grace of course they mused. Their disdain was palpable and by no means did they try to hide any of it. The facility was well kept, unlike the over crowded state funded spaces they were used to of. It was a milieu of nerds and nomads put together to forage as one would have observed, hungry either for attention or for attainment of some gain. Dr. Sana chose to walk out after the initial pleasantries, while the senior board members stayed back.
"Can I drop you?" Kshitij asked as he passed by Mehr on the way out.
"I can take a cab, no worries" Mehr politely smiled. Her home was a long way from work, and she did not like taking favors anyway.
"It is fine, let me drop you to the nearest metro, it will be way more convenient. It is peak traffic hours, you do not want to be stuck in a cab for 2 hours do you?" Kshitij asked again, and his point was valid, taking the metro line would mean cutting down on travel time. It had been a tiring day and she wanted to go home. "It's no favor if that is your concern, you can repay me with a sandwich some other day" He smiled reassuringly.
"Cool, you may" Mehr smiled
In the car, Mehr sat down and put her handbag in her lap. Removing her earrings and Name card, she stuffed them in her purse with a sigh of relief. Tying up her hair she realized all this while Kshitij had been sitting in the driver seat with a flask in hand, staring blankly at her.
"What? the day is done and dusted, I do not need to carry the name card anymore" She said in a matter of fact manner.
"Naah, I did not even wear that stupid thing around my neck. I am too cool for this shit." he smirked. "Fasten your seatbelt, we are taking the scenic route", the car moved with a sudden race and made a screeching noise as the rubber dragged against the concrete parking floor.
"You do realise we work in health care?" , "At least I do, and safety protocols need to be followed, you cannot be driving drunk"
"I am not drunk, I am High as a kite." Just sit back and breathe, stop hyperventilating. It is not good for a rat brain like you"
"I wanna get home alive, you understand?"
"And you will, just relax and sit back it was a tiring day and I need a friend to listen to me"
"Then pick up a friend no, drop me at the metro station and go chill with your buddies. I do not want a panic attack"
"You won't get one either, I know what it looks like"
"Wait what?" Mehr stopped for a second. She heard it right? This person just talked about something non non-sensical for once. And panic attacks are serious shit.
"Do not ask me to talk about it, that's the last thing I wanna take up", Kshitij rolled his eyes.
"Cool" She raised her hands to show she meant not to pry any further. "Say something else maybe. Something nice for a change. Mr I-am-too-cool-for-everything" She mocked him.
The car stopped, but it did not matter as the roads in this part of the city were hardly busy. The residential area had started and evening meant the take over of local roads by young kids playing cricket and badminton. Not the safest option for sure, but what was easily accessible.
"You" Kshitij looked at Mehr with an annoyed look. His eyes were tinted crimson, he was high as a kite no doubts about it.
"Should I be worried? I don't wanna die" Mehr was not sure if she should carry on the joke or simply shut up and leave.
"You're not dying, and definitely not on my watch", there was some sense of resolute in those words, which seemed odd. Mehr could not help but raise a brow.
"Well, I do have a soft corner for you in my heart, I can't even explain why but it is there. I do struggle myself as well as to why I care about you at all. I am not letting any harm come your way. And for the love of god, stick to the floor you work on. This place is good for learning, but not for adventure explorations. You are no Dora and not everytime will I be able to come by, there are things lurking in there which can be harmful." Kshitj realized he had said too much, as now Mehr had tension showing up on her face. A soft corner? What was that supposed to mean, he should not have any for her. And what thing was he referring to, was the reality of 913 mystery known to him?
"I think I should call the cab, and you should go home."
"I am okay, and the Metro station is right behind that street you see ahead. I know this place better than you know the back of your hand."
Mehr got down and went her way. Nirvan had warned her of something similar, and now it had been put in words by Kshitj himself. 913 was going to be a major mystery and there was a little too much of interest of everyone, Mehr had to either figure out the mystery soon, or walk away altogether. There was no middle ground left.
As per human psychology, people tend to be more vulnerable and honest when they are fatigued or in an altered state of mind like intoxication or sleepiness. There is a reason why the 2am sessions with strangers often feel more honest at both ends than any serious conversation as words seem to just flow.
People are most honest when tired or intoxicated, and honesty can be tricky.
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