She could do much better.
I’m trying hard not to smile but she is really losing her shit about few rats messing around in the office. It’s hardly a matter of life and death.
“I know what you are thinking, My. Why am I losing my shit about few rats prancing around in the office, right?” She has always been able to read me and my thoughts. I stay silent; not my place to comment but I hold back the smile that’s creeping up on my lips.
“I got a warning from the boss today. The rat scampered across the reception and then the conference room while an important meeting was going on. He was embarrassed and livid. We could lose the account. His words exactly. If I lose my job, I’ll have to go back to my parents’ place, live with them and hear them drone on all day how I should have managed and accommodated with my gay husband,” she picks up the glass and gulps it.
Oh! Now I get what’s bugging her. She is worried about losing her job and having to go scampering back to her parents.
“Listen Hri. Nothing is going to happen, okay. You aren’t going to lose your job. Stop…just stop going batshit crazy about it. Don’t worry so much. You will not have to leave Gurgaon and move back with your parents. Just chill now.” We both fall silent for a while and then she bursts out laughing.
“You know Ajay…Ajay Verma hopped on to the table when he spotted a rat!” She is almost choking as she speaks and so am I. I have met Ajay a number of times. The image of the bald and lumpy Ajay Verma perched on the conference table is a sight not to be missed.
“Since the table didn’t break, guess the manufacturers can use that picture if someone had clicked it. Sturdy tables to jump on in case rats come chasing. The table will hold!” We laugh so much that tears dab our eyes.
The rest of the evening is spent laughing, chatting, and bitching about our respective colleagues. Just a normal relaxed evening between two friends and when it’s time for Hridi to leave, I want her to stay back. I don’t want to be alone in the flat; though there’s Malti it’s not the same. But I don’t say anything. I need to get over this feeling of quiet dread of being in the flat at night.
“Good night, Hri,” I squeeze her hand as I walk her out. I turn her palm over.
“The avocado cream is doing what it promised, right?” I lift her palm to get a better look. There’s no sign of the flaky patchy skin that she had earlier.
“Yes, My. The cream you gave me is a miracle. All my life I’ve hated my hands. Dry, flaky skin. Peeling off like a snake. The tube is almost finished.”
“I’ll get another one for you. I’ll be going to London soon. In fact, this time I’ll get 2 tubes.” I’ve been getting the pure avocado hand cream from Harrods for her and it’s making a world of difference to her palms.
“It’s so expensive…I feel awful …” Hridi makes a face.
“Shut up, bitch.”
“Okay, bitch.” She laughs and hugs me. Archie doesn’t like being left behind and jumps up. I wait till the elevator doors close and then go inside.
It’s way past midnight. I take a sleeping pill, though I shouldn’t. I’ve had quite a bit of alcohol but I don’t want to spend the night tossing and turning, staring at the shadows on the wall. I need to sleep and be fresh at work in the morning. The evening has gone by and in Hridi’s company, not even once did my thoughts sink back to everything that had happened. The rape, my bra in Arjun’s closet, his involvement with a married woman, him being with her as she got an abortion. No, I haven’t forgotten any of that. I’m just pretending for a while that it didn’t happen.
Sometimes one needs to pretend everything is normal. Just to hold on to sanity.
Chapter 17. Myra
It feels good to put myself through the punishing routine that it’s used to. My muscles scream in relief, as though they missed the pain. It feels good…actually great. I almost forget about that night. It’s a strange cocktail of emotions. First, I feel glad that I’m not thinking about it, that I am not feeling sick in my core and then soon after I hate myself.
Are you moving on Myra? Are you prepared to let it go? The fact that someone came to your house and raped you?!! How can you?
Then comes rushing back the familiar sense of despair, hate, humiliation and everything else. I have tough weeks ahead at work. The IPO isn’t far and I can’t allow myself to yo-yo like this. I shower, change, dry my hair. I wear my cream-coloured business suit, a pin-striped shirt underneath. I knot a small scarf on my neck, a loose knot. The smooth satin of Hermes on my skin feels good. I wear a dainty pair of hanging earrings with Swarovski crystals studded on them. My curls entrap them as I gently pull out my curly hair. I slide into the canary yellow stilettos. They add the much-needed colour and jazz to my attire.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I dab my work perfume slightly behind my ear lobes. Shiseido Zen. The make-up is doing the job well. I’m looking fresh; the workout has helped. I flex my shoulders to relieve the tension that’s slowly creeping into me. It never leaves me; when I step out of the house, I feel it. When I return home, it spreads through me like a fog. The toxic smog outside and the feeling inside me is similar.
“No. You don’t get to do this to yourself. You’ll get through this. You will. Like last time.” I say it out loud, staring into the mirror. As I walk out of the house, Archie gives me the puppy dog look he does very well and the soft whine every time I leave for work; I wonder to myself.
Why did I think of him? Why did I say…like last time?
“Stop it, Myra.” I scold myself again as I get into the elevator. “Stop thinking about that moron. He’s gone.”
*
As I walk past Starbucks, I look for Suraj. He isn’t there at the counter. I miss seeing his shy smile. It has become a habit to start the day by seeing him at the counter, grabbing a coffee. I skip the coffee. As the elevator silently races up to the 25th floor, I tell myself as soon as the work madness subsides, I’ll go for a long holiday to Europe. Just trek, cycle around, see unique museums, eat at quaint cafes…I seek mental solace at the picture of what seems to be a great idea and out of nowhere, a voice in my mind hisses.
Yeah, and meet another weirdo like him.
It feels as though someone has touched a live wire on me. I jerk up. I want to yell at myself for letting my brain play games with me.
What’s wrong with you, Myra? Why the hell are you thinking about him now? He is gone. Gone for good. This too shall pass. It always does and it will.
As the doors of the elevator part, I step out, my canary yellow stiletto clicking on the polished granite. I walk towards the glass façade with the name of the company emblazoned on it in bold solid blocks. There’s some kind of a light that glows from the top and below which lends the letterings a smoky hazy look. This is my favourite part of the day. The walk from the elevator to the glass door of the office.
Come on, Myra. I tell myself in my head. Chuck all crazy thoughts and just work. This is your arena. This is what you do best.
I dip my hand into the front pocket of my bag to get the office ID card that I need to swipe on the slot fitted next to the door handle. I do the needful and it doesn’t make the click sound it always does when an employee card is swiped. The door remains shut. I mutter a curse and try it again. No sound and the door is still shut. Did I keep it next to the mobile? That often de-magnetises a card. I try it for the third time. Same result.
What the fuck?
The door stays stubbornly shut and I lose my temper.
“What the fuck is happening?” I yell out. I never ever use the F word at the workplace but today I couldn’t care less.
“Someone just let me in.” I look at Janet, the receptionist and raise my hands in question. She looks confused and seems to be dialling a number.
“Janet! Please open the door. My card doesn’t seem to be working for some reason.” She is still on the phone speaking with God knows whom. Why the hell is she on the phone when she can see I’m standing outside? She averts her eyes so as
not to see me. I try to read her lips but I can’t. Her head is bent.
I dial Judy. She’s always in before me. Her phone rings and she doesn’t answer. That’s the oddest thing. I try again. I look up at where Janet sits.
I’m standing outside the office in my cream suit with a Hermes neck scarf, a canary yellow stilettos, the Saint Laurent tote on my elbow; waiting to be let into my office. People are walking by, staring at me wondering what the matter is.
Hell, I’m wondering what the hell is happening?
After what feels like a very long time, Janet hangs up and walks towards me. She looks nervous. The security guard is right behind her. What is happening?
Janet swipes her card and the door releases automatically as it is supposed to do and has happened every day since I started working at Pronto.
“Thank you.” My tone is terse and curt. Janet is still standing in my way and I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Myra ma’am, please see Subodh sir first.” She clears her throat and gulps twice while speaking. “Rajesh will accompany you.” She turns towards the bulky security guard whom I’ve seen since the first day of my joining Pronto. His face is impassive, a blank sheet of no expressions. He looks exactly the same every day. Today there’s an unguarded animosity.
His stare penetrates me.
“Please, madam.” He extends his hand towards the main hall, suggesting we move.
“Rajesh. What is all this? What’s happening?” I get a blank stare in reply.
Janet turns away and goes back to her seat behind the reception counter and tries to look very busy.
As I step into the hall with Rajesh right behind me, all eyes turn towards me and then away. Everyone seems to know something that I’m not privy to. What the hell is happening? I hasten my steps and walk towards Subodh’s corner office. Rajesh taps my elbow and says, “They are in the conference room. Let me carry your laptop.” He waits while I dip my hand into my tote and give it to him.
They? Who are they? Why has Rajesh taken my laptop? I know I wouldn’t get any answers from him so I stride towards the conference room. It’s only when I’m about to enter the conference room that I notice Rajesh is walking away with my laptop in the opposite direction. Not towards my room.
“What’s happening, Subodh?” I don’t waste any time on niceties. I’m not in the mood for any. Neither are the three people who look at me with grim faces. The other two are Rajdeep Shekhar, the Legal head and Sulochana Tyagi, the IT head. Their faces give away nothing; three blank faces stare back. I’ve never liked Rajdeep; tall, thin with a moustache that looks as though he draws it with a fine-tipped pen every morning. I have a natural distaste and distrust for lawyers. Their legalese and wordplay are just to confuse a normal person. Why is he here?
Sulochana Tyagi is a pleasant-faced woman, a kind of face that’s nice to look at but one doesn’t remember for long. When I met her for the first time I didn’t think much of her. It was much later that I found out that she’s a yoga nut. She can twist and turn her body in ways that even my mind can’t. She cycles, weight trains, and does Pilates more aggressively than many I know. And she can dance all night on a 6’ inch stiletto without breaking into a sweat. Appearances can be so deceptive; sometimes people surprise you with hidden facets about themselves you wouldn’t have imagined of.
On my first day back at work, she had come up to me, embraced me in a tight hug and held me. No words, no sympathy; just a warm, tight hug that spoke much more than words. I was so sick of sympathetic looks from people as though I’ve lost a limb. It felt good when she gave me a hug; it spoke louder than words.
Today, her face is a blank wall. It doesn’t tell me anything. She isn’t even looking at me. Could this have something to do with my slip the other day? When I sent the wrong mail to the vendor and inadvertently revealed the cards we like to hold close to our chest. Can’t be. It was an embarrassing mistake but doesn’t deserve a sit down with the lawyer and IT head.
Subodh speaks first and looks grim and angry. His jaw clenched as though he was holding himself back from yelling. “Myra, I’m disappointed. Very disappointed. I never thought I’d see this day.”
“What day is that?” I pull out a chair and sit down.
“Myra, you have violated the information secrecy and confidentiality clause in your agreement. We have detected transfer of some very important office mails to your personal email.” He continues.
“What? What on earth are you talking about?”
“It has come to our notice that yesterday night you had downloaded some very sensitive mails to your personal Gmail account.” He looks at Sulochana, who punches few keys on her laptop that’s open before her. On the screen behind them opens a grid that shows mails been transferred from my office account to my personal Gmail!
“This can’t be true. This isn’t true. I would never do anything like this at all. Why would I do this?” I bang my hands on the table and glare at the three faces that stare at me. Except Rajdeep, whom I never considered a friend and with whom I wouldn’t have exchanged more than 2 full sentences in my tenure at Pronto; the other two I have worked alongside, late into the night, often early morning. Subodh and Sulochana know me. They know me well. I would never ever do something like this.
“I can’t believe you suspect me. My integrity, Subodh. Don’t you know me at all?”
“One never really knows the other person.” It’s Rajdeep who speaks. I glare back at him in reply. It’s a typical lawyer-type statement to make.
“Normal people trust people and don’t start from the point of mistrust. But then lawyers aren’t normal people.” I don’t wish to speak with him and turn my eyes on Subodh.
“You must believe me, Subodh. I’m not the kind of person to do something like this. I have no reason to.”
“I wouldn’t have believed it either, Myra. But someone left a picture for me today and then we got a call on the Speakeasy number about you. That’s why I had Sulochana look into your mails.” He pushes a picture towards me. It’s grainy and not very clear. But it’s me and a man sitting at a café. The man is the head of Jiffy, our biggest competitor.
“Yes, I had coffee with Amreesh and you think I’m leaking out secrets to Jiffy because I had coffee with him. This is beyond ridiculous.” I lean back on the chair and glare at Subodh.
“We need to see if those files have been sent to someone or not. We are looking into your laptop as we speak,” Sulochana adds. This explains why Rajesh walked away with my laptop. He must have taken it to the IT department.
“Yes, please do. You’ll see I haven’t done anything with the files. Hell, I didn’t transfer them to my account in the first place. Please believe me Subodh. I would never ever do such a thing. You should know me better.” I look at the man who hired me, with whom I have worked days and nights in steering the company to success. The man who in no uncertain terms told me time and again that I’m an asset to the company, the best professional decision he made. That he’s grooming me for his position.
Subodh is silently shaking his head and doesn’t look at me. The other two are silent. “You give me no choice, Myra. The transferred files are confidential. Very critical information about our strategies, our future plans that is yet to be rolled out. Such information in the hands of Jiffy or any other competitor would destroy us. Months and years of research and planning went into those plans. Why Myra? Why did you do this?” he sinks into a chair and turns the other way. I know there’s no point in trying to convince him of my innocence. I have already been declared guilty in his mind.
“You are suspended with immediate effect until we find out more. There will be a full-scale investigation on the matter. We are looking into your computer. Personal items from your room have been packed for you and will be brought to this room. Please don’t leave this room.” That’s Rajdeep.
Subodh gets up and walks out of the room in long strides. Sulochana walks out after him and I’m left in the room with the lawye
r who looks like a shark. Rajesh is back with another security guard. Both of them look capable of bodily lifting me and carrying me out of the office. I rest my head on my arms and try to make sense of everything that just happened. I know I didn’t do this. But someone did. Someone hacked into my laptop, the company server and transferred the files.
Who could that be? Where’s Judy? Why hasn’t she answered my calls? I get up and walk near the glass partition and look out to the pit. Every head is bent low on their computer. I crane my neck to spot Judy. I can’t see her.
Did she do this? She has access to everything. The thought flashes into my mind and I shake my head. No, it can’t be. She’s been with me for years. She wouldn’t do this. She absolutely couldn’t.
Then who could it be?
Rishi was a techie. He was a coder, I think!
My thoughts are interrupted by Sulochana and her team who have just walked into the conference room.
“What I feared is true.” She turns towards Rajdeep. “The files have been sent to a third party from her Gmail.” Both of them exchange a look.
“This is not true, Sulochana. I didn’t download any files, leave alone send them to someone else. Please believe me.” I walk around the table towards her and she moves away as though wanting to put distance between us. She hasn’t looked at me even once.
“This takes things in a different direction, Myra. We will file a police case against you and there will be a full-scale investigation into this. Not only are you suspended, all your assets and stock options — everything is frozen. If the files find their way to our competitor…” Rajdeep leaves the sentence incomplete. I grab the head of the nearest chair. My nails sink into the soft fabric. I want to yell.
I didn’t do anything! Why would I do something like this? Why? I feel like screaming, shouting, picking up the chair and smashing it into the glass partition. I want to grab Sulochana by her shoulders and shake her hard till she believes me. But I don’t do anything. I just stand there, rooted to the ground. As if someone has screwed my feet to the floor.
Eye On You Page 11