« VANSH »

I remembered the first day I set foot on Toronto along with my two musketeers, Dhruv and Pragya. We went to see the CN Tower together, gazing at the city from the top. Those memories decided to take a stroll in my mind as I strolled around the Boston campus of Harvard University. Funny how out of all places, I chose to visit a university as the first touring place.

The jetlag hit me with full force by the time I reached Boston at seven in the morning— My head was screaming, my ears were bleeding (not literally but you get my point) and my eyes were in a desperate need for hibernation. So I did the only thing any sane person would do— I slept. I didn't even bothered to knock into my temporary guesthouse, oh hell no! I simply booked a room at the nearest hotel and crashed on bed after refreshing myself. And by refreshing myself, I meant emptying my bladder and removing half of my clothes. When I woke up it was bloody night time. .

Thankfully, the company peeps were kind enough to grant me an apartment or rather a guest house. Though I would still have to pay the rent, but atleast it was cheaper, plus it saved time from the endless searching. After leaving the hotel the following morning, I headed straight to the building, signed some papers, receiving a key in return and entered the apartment with my luggage. Since it was a one person apartment, it had one living room joined by a kitchen, one bedroom, one toilet and one small balcony. It wasn't big obviously but it lookwise, it was better than the one in Delhi. I didn't bother to unload my belongings that I— Sorry my Mataji (mother) stuffed in four heavy suitcases.

The excitement of stepping myself on the US ground was becoming hard to digest so I decided to let that out by exploring outside. Turned out that Harvard University was the closest spot to my place. Common people were allowed to visit during visiting hours. There was a Harvard Museum too. While I really enjoyed the foreign sites, I couldn't help but feel a bit detached. Probably because I was here all alone. It was like history repeating itself. But atleast Ahana was there in Delhi and I was still living in the country. I had no problem with being alone, but ten months? God save me!

No, think about the glorious opportunity you got. You might get promoted if you give an exceptional performance.

That did make me a little better. I just hoped the co- workers were approachable enough. Then there was Ahana to deal with. Thankfully she didn't sound sour when I called her later. More like she was disappointed, disappointing me, too. It was another headache altogether.

                                 ~

The office was huge with a capital H.

Due to the sheer size of the office, it was no wonder that there would be more people occupying the space. People came and went, carrying their bags and suitcases, boring a serious face. Tension filled the air, making me feel agitated. The fact that many of them were foreigners wasn't helping my nerves. I just hoped there were few decent Indians working for this project. Having someone from your home country would be assuring.

According to the information given, I was scheduled to arrive in this office today to attend a seminar and a meeting. The project was called Building Natick which was the name of the mall to be precise. During the seminar, they told us that the project would be divided amongst different teams. Those teams will be divided on the basis of floors and sections. The seminar seemed like a classroom of around thirty people. The principle who took over this project a forty- eight year old man with a round belly. He briefed us with the project, what the clients desired and displayed the blueprints on the screen. Maybe one day, one day, I'd be experienced enough to be on the designing team rather than the production one. In the end, he listed out names along with the team we were assigned to. Finally we were told to head straight to the floor meetings.

Our team had nine members. The team manager was a blond haired middle aged man name Richard. “You can call me Richie rich too. I'm not kidding, really! My friends kept calling me that to the extent I accepted it myself. It makes me feel rich,” he said that earned a few snickers around the room. His friendly yet intimidating attitude made everyone feel at ease.

The work I was assigned for wasn't as big as compared to many others. That was because I wasn't experienced enough. In architectural line, it was the years and years of work that counted, not precisely the numbers in your marksheet. It was disappointing, sure, but this experience would certainly pave way for more fruitful opportunities in the future.

I stole a glance across the room, studying the new faces of my team members. Most of them seemed to be either in their twenties or thirties. My eyes flicked back to a black haired man with a slight stubble under his chin. He was looking suspiciously Indian. What's more, he actually looked around my age. I could already see myself befriending him. Admist the other team members, I spotted yet another person who screamed Indian, this one being a woman. The one nearly everyone in the room was stealing glances at. Couldn't blame them. She looked stunning though she wasn't fazed by the attention one bit. I could be wrong about her being an Indian though due to her dark grey eyes.

“Now that we're done with the briefing, let's get down with the introductions. We'll start with you—” Richie pointed to the one sitting the closest to him. The Indian I spotted earlier. “Just say your name, your nickname, your hometown, how you got this project, your hobbies. The usual, yeah?”

The Indian man placed his hands behind himself, his posture rigid and formal. “Uh, hello everyone! My name is Irfan Hussain Ahmed. I've been living here for the past two years, working for this company in the development department. I originally hail from Pakistan. I've long been waiting for this kind of opportunity so I...”

I caught the sudden eye movement, the instant he mentioned Pakistan but after that, everything was normal. Looks like I was half wrong in my guessing game. The guy turned out to be Pakistani, but not the gray-eyed woman. She was an Indian indeed.

Richie toured the newbies around the office later on, briefing us about the company and work. After completing all the initial activities, we were dismissed for the day. Well not a bad first day. The team seemed friendly, too. I had a good feeling about this.

Getting exhausted by the meetings, I decided to have a snack before going. I headed straight to the canteen on the ground floor and stood before the counter, observing the menu. The man at the counter was giving the order to a woman sitting on my right. My attention went to her since her deep voice seemed familiar. Indeed she was the gray eyed woman from my team. She caught my eye, making me turn my gaze back to the menu.

Now it would be perfectly normal to make a small talk with her since we were obviously team- mates and country- mates but I couldn't. She seemed to be giving off a foul aura, as if wanting to say 'fuck off' to everyone. She reminded me of those strict teachers from my school whose faces were scary enough to silence children with their looks. Maybe some other time.

The menu had a variety of dishes ranging from a simple sandwich to crabs. I decided upon a sandwich but even they came in various fillings. I asked the waiter. “Any special sandwich around here?”

“Every sandwich is special. See the menu, sir! There's Carrozza, Bacon egg, Monte Cristo, Chicken Wrap... Try anyone you like.”

Thanks for help dumbo! I couldn't read them at all. Maybe I should choose one at random.

“Bacon, Egg and cheese—” I heard the female next to me speak, almost startling me out of my thought process. Was she addressing to me? I turned my head towards the gray eyed woman who was eating her sandwich. Indeed she was speaking to me. She pointed a finger towards the menu while holding her own sandwich with the other hand. “Its popular around here. Try that. However if you are a vegetarian like me then there's cheese and corn. Oh, and there's roti wrap too, with vegetables and spices. Quite favorable for us desi lovers.”

The desi reference made me smile a bit. “Oh, and which one are you currently having?”

“Monte Cristo. Thought I try something different for a change but I wouldn't recommend this one since it's your first time here,” she said and went back to eating her sandwich. Well, she had already been working here for a while so obviously she would know. Finally I made my order. “I'll go with one Bacon, egg and cheese sandwich.”

“One bacon, egg and cheese sandwich—” the waiter repeated mechanically while inserting the order in the computer. “Coming right back, sir.”

Few minutes later, the waiter gave my order while the woman ordered tea. The sandwich fillings melted inside my mouth. I turned to her. “Thanks for the recommendation, by the way. It was good. There were too many names so it was hard choosing one. I felt like trying them all.”

“Yeah, I've been there too, a fifteen days back but no worries. You'll eventually know what suits your taste.” 

“So it hasn't been that long then,” I said, referring to amount of time she worked so far. For some reason, she wasn't giving off that foul aura now.

She stood with her back against the counter, holding a cup between her hands. “Yup, I'm still new. Was in India before that. What about you? I'm assuming you arrived here recently.”

I let out a laugh. “Yeah, the day before yesterday.”

“Must be shitty overwhelming. Like new country, new office and all. I'm assuming it's your first time in the US.”

Ah, someone could actually relate to me. “You have no idea,” I told her and went on to recite about the terrible jetlag I got the first day. In turn, she told me her experience when she first arrived here. The more she spoke, the less intense she became. We often slipped talking in our mother tongues. By the time we were done reciting our experiences, our snacks were devoured as well.

She wiped herself with her paper napkin and threw it in the dustbin before facing me. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Vansh.”

“Yeah, it was nice talking to you, too, err... Sorry, I forgot your name,” I admitted while rubbing the back of my neck. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Really?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded me with those sharp eyes. Her lips twitched. “I thought for certain that every man would remember my name.” 

Now it was my turn to stare at her with my brow raised. “Excuse me?”

“Ah, never mind. My bad. See you around.” she said, already turning to leave. I cleared my throat in a feeble attempt to make her stop. Thankfully, she did.

“Hi, I'm Vansh Baweja, and you?” I said, extending my hand, knowing perfectly well she knew my name.

She smiled to herself before looking me straight in the eye, shaking my hand. “Natasha Patil.”

“Okay, I'll remember this time.”

“As well as the names of your other team mates,” She added light-heartedly to which I nodded. After that, she went her way. Well that wasn't bad, considering it was my first day. Soon I resigned from the day, returning to my apartment as well.

~

If someone were to ask me to describe my first two weeks it was wrecked up. In extension, it was exciting, nerve-wracking, dreading, and boring all the same. I was a superman in the day and a zombie at night. I used to complain about my work in Delhi but that seemed small now. I almost felt like I was the previous version of a workaholic Ahana I used to complain about. Now it was me telling her how I couldn't find the time and energy to talk to anyone at night.

One day, I was buying lunch at the canteen at usual when I happened to catch a glimpse of a familiar woman across the counter. I blinked twice, no thrice to see whether it was my brain playing games with me but the image of that person didn't falter. Overwhelmed by surprise, I decided to shock her by approaching her.

She wore the same expression of shock I had, with her squinted eyes. She reacted even more by placing a hand before her mouth. “Va- Vansh!”

“Shreya!”

“Here?” she exaggerated, looking here and there before reverting her gaze back to me. “What are you doing here?!”

Now it was my turn to widen my eyes at her. “I should be asking you the same. This is unbelievable!”

Now Shreya and I weren't exactly friends. Far from it actually, but the fact that we studied in the same college and the same course for five years just made this the holy mother of all coincidences in my life.

To pay honor to this great coincidence, we shared a table together. Turns out she was a working as an accomplice to a senior architect. In other words, on site training. She worked on the fourth floor which was probably why we didn't run into each other earlier. Our conversation was work related at first, until it shifted to our college and classmates.

“So, how's Ahana doing? Are you guys still dating?”

That caught me. Shreya never met Ahana in person. She just came to know about her like all the others. It was no news since everyone in my class knew about my relationship till the end of the semester. Some even adored us (as mentioned by Dhruv) because we managed to stay that long while others broke up. Whenever somebody from the office questioned about my relationship status, I easily answered I was single but it was a different case with Shreya. Telling her I was single was admitting that I broke up with Ahana which wasn't entirely the case. Moreover, I didn't felt necessary to spill out the truth about me being on a break.

“Yes, we are still very much together,” I lied proudly.

Her eyes twinkled in wonder. “Wow, that's so romantic! It's rare to see a college couple staying together for this long. It sounds too good to be true. Oh, but she's in India, right? Must be hard for you.”

She sounded a bit skeptical but I couldn't care less. “It's just a matter of ten months anyway. We'll manage.”

It occurred that not only this saved me from explaining the truth but it also cut out the chances of her flirting with me like she did a few times at college. Not that she would now. It just spared me from the trouble.

~

It was a stress relief indeed when Richie decided to take us out on Friday night, that too in his penthouse. It was nice to see everyone dropping off their professional demeanor to become friendlier. I struck a conversation with Richard and others before settling down on a chair for a snack.

“Hey, man!” A male voice called from my left. 

“Irfan!” I greeted, “I didn't see you. Don't tell me you just arrived?”

“No yaar! I was watching. It's difficult to miss something like that,” he said, taking a seat beside me. He didn't need to specify what he was talking about. His next words only confirmed it. “You people are losing.”

“No way! Let me check,” I said, checking the cricket scores from my I- phone. The cricket match was between India and Pakistan. Pakistan was batting previously, thus scoring three hundred and four runs in sixty overs. I wondered what made Irfan make that statement and got my answer right away. Rohit was out in three overs this time. It was unfortunate. “We still have Virat, dude. Just wait and watch.”

He let out a snort as well. “I'm watching. It doesn't seem like he's gonna jump the field any soon now. We'll crush you before that.”

“We'll see who crushes who,” I challenged with a grin, feeling more pumped up now. Hardly you would find yourself in a position where you met a person of the opposite team while a cricket match was going on.

A delicious meal later, Irfan invited me to watch the match live with him while the other colleagues wasted themselves. We sat on the porch next to each other with a packet of chips. In the midst of it, someone interrupted.

“Irfan, eh, sorry to disturb but have you seen Natasha?” Gary, one of our colleagues asked.

“Nope.”

“You?” He asked, directing the question to me now.

“No idea.”

We got back to watching the match as if nothing happened. A minute later.

“Irfan, my man! Here you are,” a tipsy Natasha yelled, scurrying to his side and engulfing him from behind.

Irfan's face contorted to that of disgust as he tried getting her arms off his shoulders. “Get off, you stinky woman!”

He protested to go away but she mumbled something about giving a free ride back home because she was bored as hell. “Not before I watch this match.”

Her eyes traveled to the phone screen showing an advertisement and then to the person holding the phone— me. “Oh, you're here too.”

Was she suffering from myopia? I craned my head to face her. “Yes, I'm very much here.”

She moved her head at the space between Irfan and I, causing me to distance myself a bit. Soon the ads ended, drawing our attention to the match. The match replayed the last run and then showed the two players who were currently batting.

“Holy shit, is that my Virat?!” Natasha interrupted, her eyes twinkling. “Oh my God, he's going to play. I didn't know it was his match. Why the fuck didn't you inform me before? Step aside, boys. I gotta dissect this match!” she said, taking over the reigns by sitting between us, completely distracting us from watching. I eyed Irfan widely to do something about it while he shrugged nonchalantly. Clearly it would be uncomfortable with three people viewing a small screen, wouldn't it?

Natasha exchanged glances between the two of us, “Oh, did I interrupt your gay time? Sorry, I'll gladly step aside.”

“What's wrong with her?” I whisper shouted, the moment she got busy talking to someone else behind the porch.

“She assumes I'm gay since I usually don't hit on girls.”

“Are you?”

His eyes widened in horror. “Hell no! I'm straight through and through! I even have hots for her roommate. You gotta see her. Her strawberry like cheeks. She's so cute unlike this—”

“Damn fuck, was that a four?” Natasha cut him off, making us divert our attention to the screen. Irfan snatched the mobile from my hand and held it in his, for the three of us to view it. They showed the recap of the previous run and indeed Virat had scored a four.

“Did you see how it went? Even Shoaib couldn't catch it,” she commented excitedly.

“Well his hits are fast after all,” I said back and we shared a knowing smirking at Irfan.

He scoffed. “If you observe closely, he was actually aiming for a six but couldn't because of our tight fielding. Pay attention, here comes another...”

For the next forty minutes or so, the three of us sat closely, with our eyes glued to the match. Thankfully there were no interruptions, either from Natasha or a fourth party this time. Whenever Virat would score a four or rarely, a six, Natasha and I squealed in delight while shooting an evil smirk towards Irfan. Whereas in instances where Virat or Jadeja would fail to score a four or nearly miss a wicket, it was Irfan who returned the devil face to us. The match was between India and Pakistan but it looked more like a competitive match between us, divided by two teams. Maybe that was why I was enjoying this party.

It was Irfan who had the last laugh when Virat's wicket was down thus losing a wicket. “He had to be out sooner or later but he managed to make more than a century so that's enough.”

“Yeah, my Virat was great out there. He's not considered the man of the match for nothing. Anushka is surely blessed,” Natasha went on, pouting. She stood from her position and stretched her arms. “You guys can dirty yourselves, I'm outta here.”

I ignored her previous sentence. “Aren't you watching?”

She tched. “Nah, the most interesting part is over so I'm out. Besides it's a pain in the ass sitting cocooned in here.”

“Oh, that reminds me, Gary was looking for you. I think he went home.” Irfan informed her.

“That bitch ass motherfucker, what does he want now?” she said, looking around while I tried not raise my eye at her colorful choice of words. It was rare to hear a girl cuss like that. “Good thing he's not here anymore. I'm going to crash home.”

“Don't mind her. Cussing is her mother tongue.” he whispered as he noticed my weird reaction to her response. He turned to her. “You can wait until this match is over. I can drop you then.”

“I don't wanna wait that long. I'll go by myself. See you around, Vansh and Irfan,” she said then crouched down near Irfan as if to whisper something in his ear. “Meanwhile, enjoy backdoor.”

“Go to hell, witch! F you!” Irfan shouted while she showed off her tongue, before stepping out of the porch for good. Her whispering skills must be F grade terrible because I heard it loud and clear.

I looked at Irfan, demanding an explanation for this weird specie. He understood as he let out an audible sigh. “Don't look at me like I'm her brother. She's her own.!n.  person, I'm the complete opposite.”

“But you look like you're close friends.”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I'm still figuring out that part though.” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“Wasn't it because you wanted to woo her roommate?”

“No way man! She's off limits. Committed.”

“My condolences.” I patted his back, pulling off a sorry face “But Natasha certainly wasn't this way when I first met her. Alcohol does strange things to people.”

“No, that's not the alcohol talking, I assure you. She's usually like this in person, but very professional when it comes to work. It's incredible how quickly she was able to progress in this field considering she studied Design engineering.”

My brows shot up, “Design engineering, seriously?”

“Did you even listen to any intros in our first meet? You don't even remember half of the names,” he said and I apologized. “Oh, break's over. Let's watch this until the end.”

~

“You heard about the match? We freaking won!” I said, grinning to Natasha, the following Monday morning. I simply wanted to gush over with a fellow Indian.

“Cool,” Natasha said nonchalantly,
draining my excitement away. She proceeded to log onto her PC. Seeing my questionable face, she further added, “So what? No big deal.”

“No big deal?” I repeated, incredulously. “It was a tough match, you know. We had twenty runs more to go in fifteen balls. Even Rana was out later.”

“Good for them,” she replied, clearly seeming disinterested in this piece of information. Now I felt more foolish saying it to her. “Anyways, I have work to do now.”

“Yeah, sorry to disturb,” I said, walking away. I headed towards the cubicle where Irfan sat and gave a slap to his back, startling him. “So my order will be Boston baked beans, chicken nuggets and maple donuts & ice-cream for dessert. There's more... You do know what I'm talking about, right?”

Irfan's mouth formed a thin line. “Yes, bro, I remember our bet. You don't have to slap it on my face to remind me.”

“Food treats are what I live for. Maybe we should invite the whole team,” I added purposefully to witness him glaring back at me. I thought of inviting Natasha to fuel his misery but after that cold conversation, I changed my mind.

Irfan treated me to lunch outside the office as promised. I thought I would enjoy the benefits of it, but I was wrong. Even though it was my treat, the size of his food was a truck size more than mine. Our table bore a hefty meal worth five people. I felt like an ant in front of an elephant as I munched on my nuggets while he ate two plates of God knows what meat. If his mouth wasn't chewing food, it was speaking like a road runner instead. Within an hour, I came to know about his three brothers, three sisters, his Chacha, Tau, Mausi, Mausa ke bacche and dur ke rishtedaar. By the time I returned to the office, both my mind and stomach were exhausted.

I had a feeling I was going to work with a bunch of weirdos in the next few months.

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D e d i c a t e d   t o
vikythecaptain

A u t h o r' s   N o t e

With this I gave you a glimpse of Vansh's life in Boston and his worklife. Was it interesting? What about the new characters I introduced in this chapter? Don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts about it.

With that in mind, let's move on to more interesting things, shall we? (Yes, I'm talking to you, my dear Natasha readers 😈😈😈) (if they are here that is)

Oh, you see that sexy book cover of a woman in my profile? No? Look again.

Well, you see, that's actually a 
s p i n- o f f.

YES, YOU HEARD THAT, RIGHT!!! It's a spin off to this story. God, I was waiting for this chapter for AGGESSS!! (plz excuse my excitement) Ever since I wrote down the prologue of Natasha, I wanted to yell you this. Let me tell you how badly. Remember the author's note I wrote before starting that story. Let me jog your memory then. ⤵

I'll start writing the story of Natasha as soon as I finish Serious in Love. That's why I intend to update SeIL regularly so I can finish it soon and start on Natasha. Anyway, I hoped you liked my revelation. Was it expected? Was Shreya expected? 😈

EDIT- Natasha (story) is currently ongoing and is being updated. Do check it out.

See you in the next chapter. 😛