Non-erotic Bonds of Love by sfraza

[pastispresent]

Chapter 2

The office of SoftIndia Pvt Ltd. was buzzing with activity. One could hear muted t-con discussions and clicking of keyboards from all corners. The day had started late it being a Monday, but once everyone was in and had switched on their laptops and desktops, business was in full swing. The US guys had left a string of caustic e-mails when it closed on last Friday, and their Indian counterparts were aware that they had around 12 hours of head start for firefighting. Some customers had reported some showstopper issues, and the powers-to-be announced the end of the world.

The IT sector in Bangalore was usually intolerant of Indian 'chalta hai' mindset. The industry was closely aligned with global businesses hence, efficiency and perfection were prized. But despite the tough competitive environment, it was hard to find hardworking diligent Indian workers. Millenniums of living in habitable environments had led Indians to a sedentary lifestyle they found hard to shed. Religion, Philosophy, Caste, Politics they could be passionate about but not about work. Employees strolled in pantry and corridors sipping on cups of chai and chatting up then sit on their computers working.

Managers were aware of the challenge and created a semi-panic like situation to mobilize the workforce into action. Today was one such a situation and as Neeta strolled in she realized it was going to be a tough day; she tried to settle unobtrusively into her seat but was intercepted by the team-lead Kabir

"What’s going on," he hovered over the wall of her cubicle a cup of coffee in his hand.

"You tell me," Neeta smiled at him. Office gossip tickled in faster than emails when Kabir was around.

“This product is going live, and we will soon be going to US” Kabir spoke with a mischievous grin, although a married man, he still acted like half a boy enjoying himself in the fair of life.

“Oh is it, who all are going” she feigned interest, preferring not to question why on earth the product with so many bugs was going live indeed?

“Deepak told me that he will ask you to go, you have the best technical expertise here.”

“Oh, well I never do, he knows that he just has to find someone else.” Neeta arched her eyebrow. When Anjali and Rohit were young, they had compelling need of their mother, so every moment spent away from them made her feel guilty and she had made a strict policy of no foreign trips no matter how her bosses pleaded her. Now like all young one's they had grown up on their unsuspecting mother and would soon become independent of her, but Neeta still clung to her rules, it made her feel appreciated as a mother.

“Once in a while letting your husband have some freedom is not bad, Merci!” Kabir taunted her.

Neeta laughed. Kabir views on marriage were much like the WhatsApp jokes on married couples. Abusive nagging wives’ meek indifferent husbands. Kabir joked all day about how his wife had him on a tight leash. Neeta had a vicarious pleasure in abusing all husbands to him.

“Why should I, I took an oath perpetually to stick to him like a leech, a blood-sucking parasite,” she mocked wondering if it was true.

“These days women do not even try to defend themselves” Kabir made a fake sighing face.

“No, why should they; Now if you will excuse me” She diverted her attention back to the screen dismissing him summarily. He took the hint; the professional world was predictable. Neeta felt best here, the emotional vacuum suiting her temperament. She never felt she had to behave any differently.

But she had no peace; her junior colleagues queued up behind her desk begging her to help them. Managers dropped by for estimates. Nasty emails exchanged between the quality and the development team.

Before Neeta could blink an eye, it was already lunch. She made a quick call home to check on her children. Her mother in law picked up the phone and gave her usual response; a daily routine they both had fallen into for years. Her children mostly ignored her calls these days, Neeta missed their toddler years when she was the mother and not the irksome parent.

Neeta ate alone; she got up to go to the canteen taking her home-cooked lunch with her. But Deepak her manager intercepted her and said he would come along. The tall, lanky, dark guy could have been handsome if there was not such a morose expression on his face all the time. He seemed miserable all the time. He was the first one to come to the office and last to leave and in the interim, he stuck to his seat and laptop preferring to work all day. He made an excellent manager, though; a little reserved in nature but like very few people on earth he had empathy for others. Employees connected with him instantly and consequently were loyal to his goals and ambitions.

Deepak and Neeta both had an almost parallel position in the office; still she reported to him because he was the manager and she a mere consultant. Besides their colleagues found it difficult to deal with Neeta, who had an independent judgment and a fiery tongue. Deepak was easier on the face, gentler with his words. Together they made up a strong team, and both were grateful to each other for their respective successes. However, in their professional world, there was hardly any space for such emotions and their discussion settled safely almost always on official topics. They both took the elevator and went in a comfortable silence to the canteen. When you have worked with someone for ten years, there is hardly need for small talk.

The canteen was a dreary looking place on the terrace covered by the tin shed. Rows of tables and chairs dotted the landscape, with an LCD at one end for some distraction and the other end offering cold south Indian thalis for those unfortunate enough to not bring food from home.

Deepak and Neeta did not belong to that category. They headed towards the side table where an old microwave was kept and juggled with the canteen cutlery to warm their food. The aroma of South Indian masala from Deepak's home cooked food permeated the air. Sambar, coconut rice, garlic chutney, and paysam. Neeta's food, in contrast, was more hastily thrown in together, remnants of yesterday leftovers. Lemon rice and pickle. Neeta was not a South Indian, but her mother in law loved to try her hand at local cuisines.

So hectic today eh, Neeta ventured, she wondered idly about who did Deepak had in mind to make the onsite trip.

“Just like any other day,” he ventured a small smile, unlike his peers Deepak hardly ever panicked and was rarely excited. “I was at a meeting with Raj Shekhar for 2 hours, he kept shouting at me, I kept nodding.”

Neeta giggled visualizing the scene, t cons were time-consuming by nature and rarely ever so productive.

"The product is bound to fail; I don’t know why they want to put it live so soon. There is just not enough testing done." Deepak continued in a matter of fact manner. He was not going to let the follies of his senior unnecessarily heckle his temperament.

“Oh, but they are going to indict somehow this on you if so happens.” Neeta had pretty good insight into office politics by now.

“Yeah, I am pretty much aware of that, but there is plenty of time to worry about that. I am not as simpleton as they think", Deepak smiled wickedly at her. But before the topic could flow further into the never-ending seas of politics, he diverted the attention back to her.

"What about you, how are it going?” Deepak had not come with Neeta for lunch to give her company or to be friendly; he was efficient. He had something on his mind and was aware that the cramped formal conference room was not the place for it.

“It is routine as usual; after a week or two they keep coming back to blame the architecture, and I keep trying to deflect the blame. One of these days, I intend to write a strong e-mail to the product manager to keep good developers then blame the design. But as per our managers, you do not tell your US colleagues what to do; they tell you.”, Neeta retorted

“Do not say anything rash or in a temper. Nothing much is going to come out of it.” Deepak suggested mildly.

“Do not worry. I am sure you will provide a secure net for all my transgressions.” Neeta chuckled, reminiscing how many times Deepak had to back her up on the storms she raised.

“I will not be there in Denver; you can tell whatever you want to their faces” Deepak smiled a wry smile.

Neeta arched an eyebrow and formulated a wordless "No". She did not expect this coming, Neeta had made her position so clear on this topic so many times before that she was surprised at this proposal.

“The world has done very well without me ever going to a foreign locale and will continue to do so” Neeta shrugged and stuffed a morsel of food into her mouth trying to hide her irritation under a guise of indifference. There was a momentary silence between them as they both mixed their food together, chutney with rice, roti with subzi.

It was suffocating hot earlier in the morning, but the fickle Bangalorean weather had taken a turn, and a brisk wind had begun to blow. Dark clouds appeared on the horizon. There was a mistiness enveloping the cafeteria, onset of coming rains, and the ambiance had decidedly turned quiet and serene. A muted hush prevailed in canteen instead of the cacophony usually associated with lunch. Everyone just seems to enjoy the weather quietly. The mood had subtly changed, and business was forgotten.

Deepak and Neeta discussed their kids, colleges and exams for a while.

And then Deepak spoke again in the same tone he had used when he asked her about her children.

"This foreign trip might do you good, you know. Everyone needs to change the surroundings now and then; it can be rather stressful taking care of family and work, at a point of time one needs to be alone for a while.” And then he continued eating not expecting her to reply.

Neeta mulled over at this remark. Was this a subtle hint of her desperation these days a passing reference to her quiet misery visible somehow in the dark circles under her eyes. Deepak may have noticed, but he was a guy who did not appear to know that the world existed beyond his computer screen. And he would be the last person to mention it even if he did; even when he had worked with someone for ten years five days a week 9 hours a day. Maybe it was just an offhand comment. Maybe it was not. This subject was not going to be discussed between them further; she knew it.

They ate in silence.