Chapter 8
Caveat
Arzoo had continued to smile surreptitiously to herself long after Sahir's wisecrack about her looking fat had ended. Her intuitive belief in the inherent goodness of all - until proven otherwise - had always led her to sense that there was more to Sahir Azeem Chaudhary than he was letting on, and that there was another, less robotic, side to him that he may have suppressed in his insane race for power and excellence.
But she could never have guessed that he would be perceptive to the extent that he could somehow understand her without any need for explanations. And yet, it was all there, in the small, understated things that he did. Every awkward, unassuming gesture of his touched her in a way that anything less subtle may have only caused her overly cautious self to be wary and suspicious. Every time he dismissively brushed away some act of kindness of his, almost in embarrassment, her cynicism melted away momentarily, and in that moment, try as she might, she could not bring herself to believe that trusting him could be a mistake. And thankfully, the moment passed.
Granted, he was perhaps not as ruthless as he had once appeared, but if life had taught her anything, it was that people changed when they were given enough power to affect others. Words of tenderness morphed into callous insults. Blows were inflicted on the person one had once held so dear, apparently. At first, apologies would be tendered on the next morning, and once these would be accepted, the wrongs would be repeated even more frequently, to the extent that they became a matter of habit, a normalcy that warranted no regrets. What was once love would become an act of possession, dehumanizing, demeaning. And one would have little choice but to watch, as the remnants of love one precariously hung on to, as a desperate act of self-delusion, shattered away, one by one, in the face of the pleasure people could derive from causing pain to others.
Arzoo had brought it upon herself, by giving others the power to make her elated and devastated, as per their whims. She had thrown herself in that inescapable quagmire, where others could control her emotions to an extent where she felt she had to be apologetic and bury herself in self-doubt, for the wrongs of others. And she owed it to herself to constantly re-affirm the choice that she had made to fight her way out of that toxic chaos.
So it did not have to affect her resolve that Sahir had been honest and straightforward about the fact that he had seen her scars, or that he had not pursued her when she had stormed away from him angrily. Fair enough, he had allowed her her space, even though he had been affected enough to sit on that bench for over an hour in deep contemplation, and to skip his own dinner that night, as the concierge had later informed her. In fact, signs pointed to the fact that he perhaps would not even have come to see her if she had not slept past dinner time. It was also true that when he had come with that tray of food and she had rudely asked him to leave, and he had listened to her without protest, it had come as a surprise, because she was so unused to people listening to her. Neither did she have the heart to believe that he had lied when he had he had let go of his sarcasm fleetingly, and had told her upfront that he did not pity her and that he understood that she did not want to talk about her past. They were just a few words, devoid of artifice and embellishments... just a few words, sincere and heartfelt, that happened to be just what she had needed to hear. And she had to concede that he had been true to his words. He had not brought up the subject again, he had pretended everything was normal... and he had even gone out of his way to make sure that she could have clothes that she would be comfortable wearing. He had never made a big deal of any act of kindness on his part, and masking it all, quite unsuccessfully, under the garb of pragmatism and dry humour.
But it had cost her everything to bring herself to a stage where she knew she could rely on nobody but herself to be happy. And to even smile at the warmth of another being, seemed like an act of betrayal towards herself and the struggle that she had been through. Sahir Azeem Chaudhary was a junior associate at the law firm, both a colleague and a mentor, and she would be as courteous and cordial as their professional relationship required of her. It was pleasing to see that he was dropping his high-handed ways and going out of his way to be nice to her, and she would most certainly reciprocate to the offer of friendship that could be inferred from his actions. Yet, even in their friendship, there would always be a line, that would never be crossed, the line that separated graciousness from subservience.
"Excuse me," a female voice interrupted Arzoo's thoughts. It was a smartly dressed and flawlessly made-up young lady, oozing that enviable sense of self-assuredness and poise that never failed to bring a sparkle of admiration in the eyes of others.
"Yes?" Arzoo said in response.
"I was wondering if we could swap seats, if you don't mind, that is. I have things to discuss with Mr Chaudhary. I am Zeenat, by the way. Zeenat Hosseini. I'm a barrister at VBT & Partners."
Arzoo introduced herself and glanced at Sahir. He gave no indication of what he wanted, and was impassively waiting for her response, with a faint expression in his eyes that could be likened to a shrug of sorts. She smiled as she gave up her seat and walked to the one that Zeenat had pointed out to her.
Logic dictated that it should not have bothered Arzoo in the slightest, that Zeenat was leaning a little too close to Sahir as they talked of matters that she could not overhear from where she was sitting. Women have a strange, inexplicable insight into the workings of other women's minds and they are able to pick on the subtlest of visual cues to understand pretty much exactly what is transpiring therein. Arzoo had little difficulty in surmising that Zeenat exhibited the unmistakable signs of somebody who had developed something of a crush, and the lucky man in question was none other than a completely oblivious Sahir.
Arzoo had felt oddly uneasy at the thought, especially when Sahir had smiled at something Zeenat had said. But it was laughably silly of course. It could only be a good thing if Sahir opened up a bit more, and more importantly, it would be hilarious for her to watch him in love, wearing colourful clothes, buying red roses and heart-shaped balloons, and humming a tune or two! Her lips curved into a faint smile, and she took a deep breath and tore her eyes away from the two. The presentation was about to start.
Understandably, it was difficult to curb her human-slash-womanly curiosity, so, within minutes, Arzoo had already discreetly googled Zeenat Hosseini on her phone. She was just as accomplished as she looked - an apt match for Sahir, if he felt so inclined.
When, at the end of the first three presentations, there was a break for refreshments, Zeenat and Sahir were back in conversation, and as she watched them, Arzoo felt a stab of annoyance that lasted for a few seconds, until Sahir looked back in her direction and gave a slight nod towards the buffet table, his eyes motioning her to grab something to eat and drink. She smiled a smile that felt even faker than usual as she made for the buffet table. After a few minutes, she was joined by Zeenat and Sahir. Finally.
"Arzoo," Zeenat said warmly, "I hope you were not too bored sitting by yourself. I'm sorry I stole your seat."
"Oh no, not at all," Arzoo said in a tone that felt a tad too cheery. What was wrong with her? She tried to compose herself.
"We're all going for dinner tonight," Sahir informed her.
"M-me?" Arzoo stuttered uncertainly.
"Of course," he replied, and beside him, Zeenat was clearly trying to hide her disappointment. Arzoo's mind flashed back to the time when she used to develop crushes in college and the crushing twinge of unrequited love that inevitably accompanied them all. Poor Zeenat! Of all people, she had to fall for someone who could detect loopholes in the finest of fine prints, but would not recognise love if it bounced up and down before his eyes and bit him on the nose.
"Sir I - Thanks, but I won't be able to come. I'm sorry, Zeenat." Her good deed for the day, she thought, and felt her former unease melt away instantly, to be replaced by a tiny flicker of peace and contentment.
"Why not?" Sahir insisted. Men were such idiots.
"Oh, I'm not feeling too well," Arzoo replied dismissively, hoping he would catch the hint and not insist on lugging around a third wheel at the dinner.
"What happened to you?" Sahir asked quickly, visibly concerned as a shadow came over his face.
Arzoo smiled, genuinely this time, "Oh it's nothing. I'm just a bit tired. Some rest will do me good. You guys go ahead."
"Are you sure?" Zeenat asked, unable to hide the glee in her voice.
Of course she was sure. She had no idea why she had been mildly annoyed with Zeenat's closeness with Sahir earlier, and her constant fluctuation from such annoyance to nonchalance, was even more baffling. But, if anything, it had to be a bout of immaturity.
After all, she reasoned, as she sat in her room alone that evening, wondering what Sahir and Zeenat must be up to, Sahir was at perfect liberty to be with whomsoever he liked, and since she considered him as something of a friend now, she needed to be happy for him. Also, since he was so clueless about what Zeenat's fondness for him, it was up to her to ensure that the two at least got some alone time together. She had been most unlucky in love, but love still was, at its core, the happiest of feelings that everyone deserved to feel, most especially that Gabbar Chaudhary of hers.
And it was with much satisfaction that she found that she was back in character, so to speak - not the spiteful person who had begrudged Zeenat her harmless little crush, but the slightly nicer Arzoo who decided that Project Zeenat needed to be initiated at the soonest.
In his own quiet, unpretentious manner, Sahir had helped her a great deal. Every criticism of his had only driven her to be even more focused on her studies, and soon, before she even realised it, that pervasive sense of hopelessness had ceased to hamper her concentration in the way that it had earlier. And his more recent acts of kindness had helped her to somewhat reconcile her present with the haunted past that had preceded it. She had gained a faint sense of solace in knowing that there was another person who knew and understood a part of her that was too painful to share - something that would have once seemed impossible, given how desperately she had wanted to escape her memories and pretend they had never been a part of her.
Yes, he had definitely made her feel a lot less miserable, and it was time she did something for him too. Project Zeenat it would be.
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A/N: Zeenat is not necessarily evil in this FF. In fact I plan on making her reasonably nice. But of course we may all hate her anyway! 😛😉
Also, silent readers, please do comment if you have the time! The number of people commenting has gone down, and it makes me a bit sad because I am super greedy when it comes to comments.. hehe.
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Chapter 9: Page 29
Edited by _.serendipity._ - 10 years ago
Anupamaa
Cricket
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