Forbidden Desire

CH 6 || The Interview

Aditi

******

The obscure voices of someone calling me reached my earbuds. I was vexed. I didn’t want to wake up. But the pestilent articulation kept on soaring as if they had the only intention of troubling me to hell.

“Mrs. Kohli.” Ignoring, I tried to pull something over myself so that the voice failed to reach me somehow, but it was me whose efforts were inefficacious. My hands didn’t find anything to cover myself.

Whoever the person was for certain abominated my sleep otherwise wouldn’t have disturbed me, I mused.

“Mrs. Kohli.” It wasn’t Rosa. Rosa’s voice was comforting but the voices landing upon my ears weren’t compassionate or soothing.

“Let me sleep,” I mumbled. My voice was raspy and my throat hoarse.

“You will get hurt,” It became apparent that it was a woman. I didn’t want my mind to ponder over what she was saying and who exactly she was so I took no notice of it.

“How to wake her up?”

“I don’t know.” 

Primarily there was one woman but then I heard two women talking to each other. I wanted one simple thing: to sleep, but then every single being was against my cherished slumber.

Getting annoyed than I already was, I tried to sit up. My eyes were half-closed. I could still see the outfits of the female staff. My head was throbbing and my body was aching terribly.

When I scrutinized my surroundings I found myself surrounded by a pile of broken glasses, shattered photo frames of my and Vidyut’s wedding pictures and not to mention the room I was in which seemed no less than havoc. A half-filled liquor glass was there beside me, on the floor.

Putting my hands in my hair I held a bunch of them. It felt as if someone was drilling a hole in my head.

I had forgotten previously I was not in California so there was no way Rosa would be there. I saw a female staff approaching me but I scooted back, exhibiting my palm in front of her.

“I am fine.” Struggling, I uttered those words. I was a mess that I could say confidently without checking myself in any mirror.

Sitting at the same place I hark back to the preceding night's events. 

After I was made cognizant that Vidyut left I had loosened my calm. I had walked to his bar and thrashed everything that came into my vicinity. I didn’t even leave the wedding pictures of us. I had cried immensely but there was no one who could hear my painful screams. My throat was burning with all the screams and cries. In my despair, I had even half-emptied one of the bottles of whiskey that only put my sore throat on fire.

“Should we take you to your room?” I shook my head trying to get up but failed. Both of the staff came to me, trying to help me but I shoved them.

“I said, I don’t need anyone’s help,” Blaring in fury I got myself up. Rickety legs of mine took me to my room while my blurred vision was helping a bit. 

I stumbled a lot on my path yet, I reached my destination, the bedroom. I had lost my footing in life, so many times, still, my immutable terminus was Vidyut. 

Was that the reason for me to be at the receiving end of pain now and then? I mused over.

After I had reached the room I went inside the washroom and stood under the shower. My tears had dried up and I was exhausted. I was done with the crying s**t. If only I would have a switch to turn off my emotions if only I could.

I got out wrapped in a bathrobe. I was busy drying my hair just remembering the words of Vidyut,” You know I love your hairs, never cut them short.”

Putting off the dryer I pulled out the scissors and tried to cut my hair short but couldn’t. I threw the scissors aside on the dresser and got up. I was in PJs and thinking about what to do. I didn’t want to live in a vacant house nor did I intend to go out. 

With whom I would have gone out? 

My best friends lived in London and India. Even my sister-in-law, Naisha, worked in London, with one of my friends’ company. She was the only one I had the most cordial relationship with within my in-laws' family. 

Preoccupied with my thoughts I thought to call my best friend but my phone beeped indicating there was a text. It wasn’t just a single text but a series of messages from my husband.

”I hope Liza told you about my sudden departure.” That’s when I knew the head female staff’s name.

 “It was urgent. But I will try to be back in a week. I am sorry” I wanted to write “Sorry can’t make a dead man alive”, but that was of no use.

“One more thing, today you will have to go to the head branch. You can start working from today only. Good luck, sweetheart. I love you.”

 I stared at the messages. None of them was in reference to my health, how I was doing. Just a mere sorry and he was under the impression I was ok. I didn’t have the heart to reply. My eyes had unshed tears once again. Expectation does hurt but I was his wife for god damn sake and I believed I had every right to expect, to get hurt. I didn’t reply.

The astonishing fact was he was aware that I had seen his messages yet he didn’t question why there was no response. I, as a matter of fact, was being childish but it wasn’t entirely my fault. Vidyut was different before and he had changed completely. He used to notice me, observe everything, even the negligible changes. He had changed then how could I have remained the same.

I kept rereading his messages like a fool. 

Damn! That hurt like hell. 

My heart was on fire. Via his messages, I could depict I wasn’t supposed to give the interview in his company. I was already appointed which was deterring for my self-esteem.

I clutched the phone tighter in my hold and was about to throw it away when it rang. That moment I was confident it wasn’t Vidyut. Just like I predicted, it was his father and not him.

Picking up the call we exchanged pleasantries after which he questioned, “Did you hear from Vidyut about the job?.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“Dear, if you want you can take a rest for more time. It’s your company you can join whenever you want.” I couldn’t rest. I had an important matter to handle so going to the office was the better option.

“I am done resting, dad. I will be there.” With the intention of not revealing much of my plans, I replied.

“Ok, but don’t burden yourself.”

“Sure.” 

I was about to take a huge and necessary step.

After the call disconnected, I got ready in a black coloured formal bodycon dress that hugged me displaying every needed curve. It was gifted to me by me when I was appointed as a senior journalist. It wasn’t new but I had handled it so well that it always confounded people, giving them the conception that it was bought recently.

I put on light pink lipstick and paired my dress with black pump heels. When I descended the stairs with my bag in my hold I was called, “Mrs. Kohli, your breakfast.”

I eyed my favourite breakfast but my appetite had died.

“I am not hungry,” I replied to Liza before moving out of the house.

I was taken to the head branch of Kohli Industries by the driver. On my way, I could see young minds, enthusiastic about life, on the road at rush hour, just like how I used to be once. My passion for journalism had taken me to the ladder of success that I had ascended gracefully.

There was a time when I used to be in the limelight. The headlines of the newspaper used to all about me, some of them were used to be hurtful but most of them were my praises.

Aditi Sharma aced the interview.

Aditi Sharma on top once again.

Those were the repeated headlines still fresh in my brain. Before, I was no less than a name that people of every household took proudly but now had become just someone’s wife. My identity was stolen, rusted.

‘There was only one who could capture the con’, was the quote running on tv channels when I had successfully captured a con artist by my sting operation. Those were the days I would always cherish.

The driver drew up the car bringing me back to the present, my deplorable present. I sighed audibly before I got out of the vehicle. As soon as I entered the office I was greeted by everyone. They knew me, not by name Aditi, the journalist, but Vidyut Kohli’s wife.

It seemed my ears would bleed hearing “Mrs. Kohli” over and over again. If it would continue for a longer time, I would surely forget my name one day.

I took the elevator and went to the sixth floor where I knew I would meet the required person. When I knocked on the door I was granted access. Smiling, I walked to a man who was in his early seventies. His distinctive beard and hair were grey, yet he looked handsome. He glanced at me from behind the rimless glass and smiled. 

“Aditi.” He was happy, seeing me. He got up from his seat and walked to me slowly taking help from his smart walking stick only to embrace me endearingly, “How are you, grandpa?” 

“I am good,” he replied, caressing my hair. He pulled back and stared at me but then the concerned expression marred his face.

“What about you? You look so pale, what’s wrong?” 

His question caught me off guard and then I realized he might not be aware of what happened to me. I hadn't weaved any lie in my head when someone cleared his throat. 

I looked at the source and found dad seated there too. I hadn’t noticed him before.

“It must be travel sickness dad.” He said to grandpa before he looked over at me, gesturing through his eyes not to tell him anything. 

Vidyut’s grandpa was a great man with a loving heart, always cared for me, and showered me with his love. Though he had become a heart patient. Any adverse news was not good for him. That reason was enough for hiding the major truths from him. It was not the first time he was being lied to. We had done it in the past too and all for his sake. 

“You should have taken a rest today.” He was disappointed with me attending the office. He took a seat on his chair and I took a seat in front of him, beside dad, on the brown leathered chair.

“I am fine, grandpa.”

“So, from when you would like to start?” Grandpa didn’t like dad’s question. He wanted to know about me and work wasn’t in his mind. Though it was not the only reason for him to look displeased. Grandpa didn’t have a pleasant relationship with dad. Something from the past had damaged their relationship. I tried talking to Vidyut about the same but he shrugged it off, quoting, “I never like to meddle in someone’s matters.”

That, someone, was his grandfather and father but did he care, needless to say, not.

“Dad, about work...” I stopped mid before announcing, “I don’t want to do it. I can’t work here.”

Anticipating any response from the two elderly men I waited. Grandpa’s expression didn’t give in much but dad seemed worried.

“You want to be in your old shoes?” Dad queried while grandfather was only listening. 

“No. Being the daughter-in-law of Kohlis I don’t want to be called a nepotism product.”

“That’s bullshit. No one would even think about that, I will make sure of that.” He assured me but I wasn’t convinced. At that point in time, no one could persuade me, not even Vidyut.

I was resolute about what I had to do.

“It’s not what people say, it’s about how I feel. I can’t just start working when you guys haven’t even examined me. This will be unfair to the organization and its hard-working employees. Working in a PR team would be a new venture, a novel experience. I want to try it on my own and that too not here. I want to learn a bit first, so I think it would be better if I start working somewhere else and then I get back here.” 

Grandpa heard me keenly. Perceiving what was going on in his mind was a mind-boggling task. On the other hand, dad wasn’t delighted with the idea. His wrinkled features were the proof.

“Aditi, we get your point, but….” Dad was cut off in the middle by grandpa as his reply was, “Okay…” Adding further he cited, “If that’s what you want.”

Dad looked at grandpa and realizing he was firm on his words he didn’t object.

“Where do you wanna work? Do you have any companies in mind?” 

Companies, yeah, as long as it wasn’t Kohli’s.

“After quick and abrupt research I did analyze some of them and have even sent them my resumes. I even got a call from one for the interview.” I replied, recalling I had sent the resumes before heading out of the house and even got a call from one when I was on the way to Kohli Industries. 

Grandpa smiled warmly, patted my hand on the table, and wished me. “All the best for your new venture and always remember we are always there for you. Any problem, you are gonna approach us, okay?”

“Sure.” I grinned widely. Grandpa wanted me to stay there but while scheduling the interview from the company I had received the call I had mentioned that I would be available that day only.

“All the best.” Before leaving dad wished me too, a small smile played on his lips. He wasn’t quite supportive though. Nevertheless, grandpa’s support for me had his lips zipped.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Take care, dear.” I nodded briefly at grandpa and headed out.

******

I stood in front of the enormous tower that had seventy floors. Seventy floors for an office was too much. Even Vidyut’s company had only thirty floors, not even half of what L.I.E.R Industries had. It looked regal though, all covered with black glass. 

I tried to look to the top but still failed to. The tower building stood unhindered at its place, in its glory. Staring at it all I could say was, “Wow!”

Mesmerized, I stared at the building, the area surrounded by lush greenery. Hardly there were one or two companies I knew which were situated around nature and not in between the bustling crowded city.

I was indeed lucky to get a call from that company. Out of nowhere a feeling of being watched, crept in. I shrugged off the momentary feeling which became prominent soon. I looked around and found the security men of the building staring at me. They must have thought I was some kind of stupid woman who went in awe at the building itself. I scrutinized them before I walked inside.

Behind the black rectangle reception table, was seated a man in his twenties, typing furiously.

“Hi.” Without moving his gaze he nodded.

“I am Aditi Koh…” Abruptly I ceased. I didn’t want to be addressed as Mrs. Kohli so went on with my original identity.

“I am Aditi. I have an interview here.” He eyed me then stared at me weirdly as if had seen a ghost. He resumed his work and said,” The Twentieth floor. The elevator would be on the left and please don’t use the last one. You are not allowed to.”

Rude!

For a twenty-something old he had a discourteous persona. I walked past the reception to the left and used the swipe card the receptionist provided before entering. On my left, there were more than ten elevators. I walked ahead until I reached the last one. 

I wasn’t allowed to go in there, he had said. But I wanted to.

 I was just looking at it when one of the security personnel appeared from nowhere. He was taller than me and had a structure like a bodybuilder.

“You can’t go in.” He said in a robotic tone. His eyes on his front and not on me.

“I know, I was just looking.” I swiped the card for the last-second elevator and wondered what was with so many guards and all. 

I reached the twentieth floor and just in front was a white curved two-person round reception desk. Two ladies were already seated there. One of them was even younger than me, seemed like an intern by the way she was listening to the other woman on her right. I walked to the table and introduced myself, “Hi, I am Aditi.” gaining the attention of both the ladies. The intern was too busy to notice but the other one smiled pleasantly unlike the male before.

“Oh, yes. Rick told me. Let me show you the way.” she said.

Rick was the name of the male receptionist. I had seen his name board on his desk. Instructing something to the intern she got up asking me to follow. Covering the distance of fifty meters she stopped in front of a wooden door. Holding the door for me she asked to wait in a conference room, “Please wait here.”

 The conference room was of hollow square style. It consisted of four tables adjusted to form a rectangle. There was a lot of space in the middle. Twenty chairs were placed around the table with an equivalent gap between them. 

Uniformity was very much evident in the whole office. It appeared the owner was a fan of that quality. The Monstera Obliqua plant was at the same spot at the reception on the ground floor as on the twentieth floor, at the same place, not even a difference of an inch was there.

I was inspecting the room, instead of taking a seat. There were several awards placed on the wall shelf. My eyes stuck on an intricate pen. It wasn’t a place for a pen. I wondered why the pen rested with those awards. 

Was the pen worth that much?

Musings had taken over from which I came out hearing the sound of the door opening. A tall man who was probably my age entered. A charming smile rested on his lips. He was decked in a white shirt, blue jeans paired up with a blue blazer.

“Aditi, right?” 

“Yeah.” He came and extended his hand to me, “Hi, I am Arvik Raichand. I am the director of L.I.E.R Industries.” I shook his hand and he gestured saying, “ Please have a seat.” 

He turned on the MacBook Air he had carried and most probably opened my digital CV. I was meandering my eyes. There was a fragrance that travelled to my nostrils. I was familiar with it but my memories were faded. My eyes searched for the origin but didn’t find anything. 

Arvik ordered two glasses of water. I needed it very much. I drank it all and the last shred of anxiousness I was feeling was gone.

“To be very honest I was quite impressed by your CV.” 

“Thanks.” Glancing at me from the laptop screen he asked his first question which I knew would be asked to me, “So, Aditi, tell me why did you leave your previous job? Was it risky?”

“It wasn’t risky. I wanted to explore more. Exploration has been my trait for a long time.” I replied, confidently. I had to lie.

Was there any way out without falsehood? 

No way.

“Why L.I.E.R?” Another redundant question was put forth. I didn’t reply instantly. I took a few seconds before I phrased my answer in the manner, “There is a tag line that goes with L.I.E.R, ‘You are your own master’, and I want to be one. I want to master that skill to be my own master.”

“What will we get?”

“A determined master in return who would stand by the organization at all times like a shield.”

“Still, I don’t get why you want to learn from us?”

“Arvik, I possess skills that your industry needs except that one. Let me help the organization with the skills I acquire. In return, all I want to learn is that one skill you guys are proud of, the art of being one's own master.”

He seemed impressed not by the expression but the way he had comfortably sat on the chair with his back resting on the rear of it.

“How do you think you would be beneficial for our company? In what way? Elaborate.” Asking me the same question in three different ways was of no use. He was playing with an ex-journalist, after all.

“Year, 2018, information about the biggest electronic deal was leaked. L.I.E.R was on the verge of loss. Though you guys did well in hiding the truth behind it, the unsaid truth is the whistleblower was one from the PR team. You guys fired her after being deceived.”

“There was no whistleblower.” That’s what they had told the media, but I could see through the white lie.

“There was.”

“How can you be so confident?”

“I am an ex-journalist, Arvik. I can filter out truth from dumps of lies.” His expression was rigid. He didn’t like me, being unwavering.

“That still doesn’t answer my question: why should we hire you?” Grilling me he assumed would work. It wasn’t going to though.

“You see a PR personnel's responsibility is not only to create and maintain a favorable public image for their employer. The job is way more descriptive. One must always be aware of what their competitor is up to. What story of the competitor is true and what not is important too. I can help with that. That loss of 2018 is still being used by your competitors and you guys are still lacking at that point to backfire. What more do you need than an experienced ex-journalist who can turn your shortcomings into your leverage?” 

Arvik was in his thoughts, immersed. I knew the interview was done. The selection was a matter of later but I was glad my research of half an hour didn’t let me down in the interview. Coming out of the haze he was in, he smiled wholeheartedly, even after losing the battle of words.

“Thanks for the interview. You may leave now. The HR will let you know if you are shortlisted”

“Sure, Thank You.” He muttered something to himself but I couldn’t vividly hear it.

While I was on the ground floor moving out of the building I saw the same man I had bumped into at the airport. For a moment I thought he didn’t recognize me. I turned to him, so did he, he didn’t smile but I felt as if he did. His hair was gelled up and not dismantled and the glasses were gone. He looked more mature than before.

As I stepped out I could again feel someone’s eyes on me. No, they were not the guards, someone else. I had been a journalist before, I could tell when one was being watched. Besides, a woman mostly has those instincts to find out.

I roamed my eyes only to find nothing. Notwithstanding that there was no one in my sight the way my goose flesh was acting up I was certain something was not quite right. I left in my car to my house but the sensation of being eyed was there till I reached my house. That was one hell of an unconventional day.

******

Hi, Lovelies,

 Do let me know what you feel about the chapter.

Hope you all liked the chapter.

I know Aditi and Aahir haven't met yet, but trust me, the wait will be worth it.

Thanks,

Shrishtee