17-03-2019, 06:24 PM
I reached the workshop exactly at 2.50 pm, ten minutes before the appointed time. Contrary to my expectation, I found Kiana to be a fairly large car repairing workshop. Many advanced cars were parked inside. I entered a large foyer and found many smart men and women. I was a little perplexed and uncertain, when a smartly dressed girl came forward and then suddenly gave a broad smile and asked if I was Meherunissa. I nodded my head. In no time, a number of people came around to welcome me. I was feeling a bit out of place. I had dressed normally (not shabbily though) but the people around me were much better dressed. Though unreasonable, I felt that Imran should have told me to dress better.
Meanwhile, a middle aged distinguished looking gentleman came and shooed the others away. He introduced himself as Mr Desai, the manager. I asked him about Imran and he escorted me to a large glass partition wherefrom the entire workshop was visible. I found many people in blue overalls working on cars. Imran was busily running from one car to another and shouting instructions. In work, he looked impressive, I had to admit. Mr Desai said that some delay was anticipated and he took me to his office.
He started telling me about the workshop and how it had grown over the years and it actually had no competition. He said that he was proud to be the manager for the last five years. I suddenly saw a board in his office that had pictures of about a dozen boys and girls. Mr Desai saw me looking at it and said that the management provided full scholarships to the children of the workers and many of them were studying in big named colleges that their parents could ill afford. I was suitably impressed.
After some time, a girl came and called us. I found that the foyer had been decorated and two fancy chairs had been placed in one corner. Many people were milling around and Imran was standing in a corner looking nonplussed and self-conscious. The girls made me sit on one of the chairs and literally forced Imran still in his overalls to sit on the next. Everyone settled down and the program started with a song which was nice and was followed by a stand-up comedy by one of the workers that was hilarious. He took pot shots at the management and demonstrated how bad, things were out here. I found Imran laughing to his heart's content although I seriously felt that the assault on the management was a little out of place. I tried to see Mr. Desai's reaction and genuinely felt a little worried about Imran and the comedian.
Finally, Mr. Desai got up and gave a small but elegant speech. He congratulated us and wished us happiness. It was really touching. He ended it all by saying that henceforth, if the comedian had any complaints or grievance against the management then he should directly approach the maalkin (owner) of Kiana namely Meherunissa, me, for redress.
I was startled and looked around in utter disbelief. Through the haze of incredulity, I could hear catcalls and applause that seemed to go on for ever and ever. I had never felt so silly in my life. I had a serious doubt about the sanity of it all. There was a deluge of people congratulating me. I must have looked stupid. I tried to search out Imran but he had conveniently vanished.
I wanted to kill him.
And it started to rain heavily.
Suresh brought me home and Imran did not surface back till 9 in the evening. Suresh was petrified and so was Sumitra. Both thought that I was most unhappy with the turn of events at the workshop. And surely, I was. I was completely taken for a ride although if someone had asked me why I felt so, I actually had no answer. Honestly, I did not expect to be told anything that I did not show interest in. Still, I felt strangely agitated. Possibly, Imran and his lifestyle and demeanour failed to indicate his stature. So, when he came at 9, bone drenched in rain, I looked the other side. He looked perfectly ashamed. He tried to apologise but I did not look back. He went to sleep without having dinner.
Enjoy, endure, survive each moment as it comes to you in its proper sequence -- a surprise. Vera Nazarian
Chapter-8: The Scar
During the night, I could hear Imran tossing and turning. He was restless. Suited him well and I did not bother. But around 4 in the morning he started coughing and I was a little worried. With a lot of hesitation and for the first time, I touched his forehead and he was burning with fever. His body shook with cough. He was not well. I did not know what to do. I called Sumitra and indicated towards him. Sumitra took over and in no time, she started sponging and gave medicines. I stood on one side, useless, like furniture. At six, Sumitra asked me to wait while she went to call the doctor. After what seemed an eternity, Sumitra returned with a doctor who examined Imran and advised injections for pneumonia and many other measures. Sumitra was like a demon possessed. For two days, she nursed Imran. Called the doctor, brought medicines and sponged him. The house had changed into a hospital. I only stood by the window, doing nothing. Suresh too stayed round the clock. He had quietened. He would rush and do a work that was entrusted, return quickly with and sit at the door looking at Imran. He seldom spoke a word.
Meanwhile, a middle aged distinguished looking gentleman came and shooed the others away. He introduced himself as Mr Desai, the manager. I asked him about Imran and he escorted me to a large glass partition wherefrom the entire workshop was visible. I found many people in blue overalls working on cars. Imran was busily running from one car to another and shouting instructions. In work, he looked impressive, I had to admit. Mr Desai said that some delay was anticipated and he took me to his office.
He started telling me about the workshop and how it had grown over the years and it actually had no competition. He said that he was proud to be the manager for the last five years. I suddenly saw a board in his office that had pictures of about a dozen boys and girls. Mr Desai saw me looking at it and said that the management provided full scholarships to the children of the workers and many of them were studying in big named colleges that their parents could ill afford. I was suitably impressed.
After some time, a girl came and called us. I found that the foyer had been decorated and two fancy chairs had been placed in one corner. Many people were milling around and Imran was standing in a corner looking nonplussed and self-conscious. The girls made me sit on one of the chairs and literally forced Imran still in his overalls to sit on the next. Everyone settled down and the program started with a song which was nice and was followed by a stand-up comedy by one of the workers that was hilarious. He took pot shots at the management and demonstrated how bad, things were out here. I found Imran laughing to his heart's content although I seriously felt that the assault on the management was a little out of place. I tried to see Mr. Desai's reaction and genuinely felt a little worried about Imran and the comedian.
Finally, Mr. Desai got up and gave a small but elegant speech. He congratulated us and wished us happiness. It was really touching. He ended it all by saying that henceforth, if the comedian had any complaints or grievance against the management then he should directly approach the maalkin (owner) of Kiana namely Meherunissa, me, for redress.
I was startled and looked around in utter disbelief. Through the haze of incredulity, I could hear catcalls and applause that seemed to go on for ever and ever. I had never felt so silly in my life. I had a serious doubt about the sanity of it all. There was a deluge of people congratulating me. I must have looked stupid. I tried to search out Imran but he had conveniently vanished.
I wanted to kill him.
And it started to rain heavily.
Suresh brought me home and Imran did not surface back till 9 in the evening. Suresh was petrified and so was Sumitra. Both thought that I was most unhappy with the turn of events at the workshop. And surely, I was. I was completely taken for a ride although if someone had asked me why I felt so, I actually had no answer. Honestly, I did not expect to be told anything that I did not show interest in. Still, I felt strangely agitated. Possibly, Imran and his lifestyle and demeanour failed to indicate his stature. So, when he came at 9, bone drenched in rain, I looked the other side. He looked perfectly ashamed. He tried to apologise but I did not look back. He went to sleep without having dinner.
Enjoy, endure, survive each moment as it comes to you in its proper sequence -- a surprise. Vera Nazarian
Chapter-8: The Scar
During the night, I could hear Imran tossing and turning. He was restless. Suited him well and I did not bother. But around 4 in the morning he started coughing and I was a little worried. With a lot of hesitation and for the first time, I touched his forehead and he was burning with fever. His body shook with cough. He was not well. I did not know what to do. I called Sumitra and indicated towards him. Sumitra took over and in no time, she started sponging and gave medicines. I stood on one side, useless, like furniture. At six, Sumitra asked me to wait while she went to call the doctor. After what seemed an eternity, Sumitra returned with a doctor who examined Imran and advised injections for pneumonia and many other measures. Sumitra was like a demon possessed. For two days, she nursed Imran. Called the doctor, brought medicines and sponged him. The house had changed into a hospital. I only stood by the window, doing nothing. Suresh too stayed round the clock. He had quietened. He would rush and do a work that was entrusted, return quickly with and sit at the door looking at Imran. He seldom spoke a word.
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