Continued from Part 1
The rest of the day went by working and imagining possibilities of me and Yukti together. I looked at her Facebook profile picture and smiled.
‘What are you smiling about?’, Ashraf had asked me. I just shrugged my shoulders and went back to work.
Tuesday wasn’t a big deal. It just went by. When I got home I got bored. I wanted do something other than reading. I picked up my flute, a beautiful Bansuri that I bought last year. It had gathered dust after I stopped attending classes in Jayanagar few months ago. So I picked and left to the music class.
‘Ah what do I owe this pleasure for?’ asked my flute teacher when I showed up to class that evening. I smiled at him, mumbled a “Namaste” and sat on a chair.
‘Did you practice?’, he asked.
‘I will surely do that’, I answered. The other students giggled.
The teacher just shook his head and started the class. I had taken to learning flute a year ago. It was great fun. After the class I went back to my house to prepare for my interview on Wednesday. My interviewer had mentioned in his e-mail that he liked my article I wrote about promoting social cooperation and its role in eradicating poverty. ‘Cool man’, Ashraf told me when I told him about it over the phone.
Wednesday morning went by quickly and I finished my report by lunch, but I did not inform my boss about my interview. I wanted some free time to prepare for the interview scheduled that evening. I sent the report to my boss at 4 PM. Sooner had I sent the report, my boss showed up at my cubicle and said I had done a great job, and then he requested me to drop him home.
Maybe my boss knew that I was looking for a change but I know he didn’t want me to leave. I knew for sure he did not know what I was interviewing for. He always tested my patience. Maybe he was waiting for me to break it down to him. While I was on the way to drop him home, I did not listen to a single word he said. I only responded to him with only a yes or a no. None of my project mates could stand his rambling. I was more worried about the interview than how he met his wife, or where he sent his in-laws to vacation. I dropped him home by 5.30 PM.
Half an hour was the time I had left to reach the place of interview. I raced down near MG Road and got to the place of interview at 5.55 PM. I saw the interviewer at the reception in the hall. I recognized him from his picture in his blog which I was religiously going through for the past few days. There was a minute left for 6 and I rushed past the people who were coming out of the building. At exactly 6 PM I stood in front of the interviewer near the reception with a file in hand, and my heavy bag on my shoulders. I was panting because of the running I did and then I was him walking towards the door looking at his watch. He walked past me while I was trying to remember his name. Damn!
Continued in Part 3