Another day, another fool; she smacked her lips with disapproval.
She raised her heavy eyelids to the young, nervous lad sitting at the other side of the desk. The desk between them made a difference; who sat on which side was all a matter of how the dice rolled. Somehow, she couldn’t recall being in his shoes. In a casual glance, she had made her decision.
“Mister…” She looked down at the piece of paper lying in the orange folder. I hate the color orange. What a distasteful, unpleasant choice! “Mr. Borough, yes. Thank you for your time but if I were you, I’d look out for other options, as well.” She’d done it, again! The despicable manner of hers; sugar coated, no-nonsense attitude with a slightly authoritative tone. She could sense his perspiration rate increase and that annoyed her. He nodded and hustled to gather his belongings as he prepared to make his way out the door. Another random face; She could not have been less bothered.
She heaved a sigh as the door shut behind the freshly graduated student. Harvard, Yale, Oxford or Cambridge, whose father was who or what family a person belonged to, what car who drove or what house they lived in, it bored her. It was all too cliche. She had seen too much of it. The cycle of handing over the responsibilites and facilities from generation to generation was monotonous. Rome was not built it a day and no one realized that unless they’d made a contribution.
“I want a crude piece of coal, raw material to exhaust my efforts and invest myself in.” She thought to herself. Her eyes fell upon the 3 carat pink rock embedded in the band wrapped around her left hand’s ring finger. She hadn’t got used to it yet; the ring or the fact that she was engaged. It made her silently giggle. It was not a happy giggle of a young lady in love with the man who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Rather, it was a snicker that failed to conceal her amusement. She had known him for years and they seemed to share an intimate agreement that this course of fate was inevitable. Neither of them objected this decision of match making. It was for the better, instead of prodding around looking for someone to fall for and go through a series of messy arrangements. They had never been in a relationship or talked about their feelings. One night after a casual dinner, he opened the small blue box with the ring in it.
“What do you think about it?” He asked with a smudge look on his face. He knew the answer.
“It’s huge and pink.” She said blankly. “I’ll take it.” And that was it.
With an automatic movement, she checked her cell phone that displayed the usual phrase, “no new notifications”. She put it down without significantly reacting and looked up at the clock; 2:34pm. The clock is too bright for this office. I’ll buy a new one tomorrow. She turned back to the computer screen and let the hours pass by just the way they did every day.
People would come and go, say yes and no, meet her, listen to her, talk to her, give her anonymous documents and the mechanism proceeded, unaltered. This is what people call success. She rolled her eyes and looked up at the clock again; 4:42pm.
“You are so full of yourself!” A twenty-something aderinaline-driven, sharp-looking young man stormed into her office. His face flushed with anger and contempt.
“Don’t wet yourself, kiddo” She said, coolly as she returned to her computer.
“He was from Harvard, Meesha! If that’s not what you want, then what do you want? Could you at least be courteous enough to tell me that!”
“Sit and calm down before you get a stroke.” She did not look up from the screen as he paced back and forth. “Just because your sister owns the company does not give you any special privileges. At least not apart from the ones you already have.”
“I’d known him ever since I was ten years old!” He said, annoyed.
“It seems like you’re still ten years old, Muneeb.” She was getting impatient. “If you want your friends around, then call them over at your place and play the zillionth Assassin’s Creed or whatever you’re into these days. This office is not your playground.”
“Stop treating me like a kid!” He had stopped pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Then stop acting…” Her phone rang and he marched out of the office, muttering under his breath. She looked at her cell phone as the name Aaliyan illuminated the screen. She picked it up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?” She inquired, half-amused. It was 4:45pm. He was right on time, as he’d been for years.
“You might as well appreciate my effort of being a good fiancé, Meeshpops.”
“You’re the best, Aaliyan. You know that.” She looked at the pink glistening diamond on her hand. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be wearing this thing around all day.”
“That confuses me. Should I be flattered or taken aback?” Before she could answer that, she could hear someone call him at the other end. “That’s my cue. Are you still up for dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, of course but I might be a bit late.”
“Alright, see you then. Bye.”
With the abrupt end of the phone call, she looked up at the clock again; 4:49pm. She quickly wrapped things up and made her way out. After the usual goodbyes by all the people she encountered on her route outside, she pushed the main exit doors and let the city air gush in her face. She walked to her shiny car with the evident benz hallmark glistening. What model was it? She couldn’t even remember. She quickly got in and drove away.
Leaving the reverend buildings behind, she drove into posh residency and parked her car in the garage. Almost jumping out of the car, Meesha rushed inside and directly went into her room. Within ten minutes, she transformed from a critical and savvy businesswoman to a carefree, youthful and laid back lady. Her neat and sober attire had turned into a baggy t-shirt and an old pair of faded denims. Her flawless make up had been washed away revealing her fresh features. She pulled out the hair pins that held her hair in a tied knot and she let her hair fall down, lose. She quickly put on her flip flops and went back to the garage.
She marveled the beauty of the 1965 navy blue mustang that her father once drove. She grabbed the car keys and started the car. Her eyes shone as if the engine had ignited life into her, too. She drove out of the garage, the town and then the city.
The sun was dipping down as blood red rays oozed through the patches of white above the skyline. She put her huge sunglasses on and lit a cigarette as she drove by the rural outskirts. She cranked up the volume and sang along to the Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of her lungs. She opened the windows of the car and let the wind blow through her hair. She laughed as she let herself drown in the colors that surrounded her.