This short fiction was published by the Istanbul Literary Review in their latest edition (Issue 19). Click here to read from the site, or scroll down. Thanks!
*
I was at this conference. The lights had been dimmed; a man addicted to conferencing was putting across his strong views on a subject I wasn't least bit interested in, with ease. He wore a tragic looking white suit, proportioned inversely with a black shirt underneath. The red tie that intriguingly peeped from under the coat was clearly hesitant, as if, of its being of a color. I was focusing on the top of his head, not knowing anything better to do, which seemed to shine divine, having eradicated all the hairy vegetation from its surface. Earlier – that is before the conference had begun – the shine was even happier, reflecting playfully the many overhead lights. Now it seemed meditative, wobbling gently in agreement with whatever the man was trying to say.
I was bored to the limits of boredom, alive only to the frolicking of strange thoughts in my mind. Minutes dragged around me like earthworms slowing down. The air-conditioned space I was locked in, along with about fifty others, tasted and smelt of words bouncing off the walls, rolling gently down here and there, before giving up to a just-arrived batch of fresh, boring words. I dozed off a few times, getting up with a start each time, only to find no one noticing, and the man still talking. Could I have got up and walked away? Hell, no way! The trouble was, the man speaking from the dais was my boss and he had asked me – ordered, actually – to observe the reaction of all the listeners and report to him at the very end. ‘Your presentation was great boss,' my response was already ready in my mind, but the boring lecture continued.
It was only towards the end, perhaps, that I noticed an attractive woman seated diagonally across, listening intently, nodding now and then. I could see her from the side but it wasn't very clear due to the slight light. Even then, I couldn't help notice a virtuous nose rise gently, bisecting a pair of plump lips and an eye that surely hid a cluster of twinkling stars. I kicked myself for having missed noticing her before the conference, at the registration desk. Or maybe she came in late, I wondered, for I was convinced I wasn't used to making such blunders. In fact haven't made one such in thirty years, toddling years and kid-hood included.
Finally it ended, clapping hands screaming a relief which made my job of convincing my boss easier. Minutes later, I was whispering in his ears. “Boss it was great… did you notice the thunder in the applause?” He smiled, his chest ballooning in labor as he took a long breath, and his shiny head now reflecting all of the overhead lights. He got back to his talking, explaining to the three foolish people who stood around him, the highlights of his presentation.
I moved to the farthest corner of the tea room, taking shelter behind bodies of all others, and picked up a cup of tea. I couldn't curse for having taken a sip of the very hot liquid absentmindedly. I just couldn't, as I found myself peering into a familiar face. Hi, she said, as I gulped the liquid, fighting with my face to break into a smile. When she smiled, I knew I had succeeded. She offered a brief introduction which I listened intently and when done, I offered mine. I noticed her and it became like a man noticing an attractive female, the opposite gender. Her face was like a breathless surrender of a white dove to the summer heat – the eyes felt so intriguingly inquisitive that I worried it will rob all the charm around her that they could see; the nose stood like a winner after a lucrative prize; the cheeks flowed down in angles and curves never experienced or discovered by anyone before; and the lips sat like a fire under preservation. I stared, aware that I stared, and she talked, aware, I thought, that I stared.
As time tamed the laws of attraction to normalcy – which must have been ten minutes or so later – she told me that my boss was one of the best speakers she has heard for a really long time. The attraction ebbed silently, enough that in a few minutes I didn't die of a heart attack as she went back to her seat in the conference room. The lights dimmed once again and another person now took over the dais and started an equally boring presentation. I hated him, only until I saw my friend nodding enthusiastically. I looked down at the carpet inspecting my shoes, looked up to inspect the ceiling, looked at the walls making faces at the speakers on the walls, looked around at the faces of the mesmerized people and looked at my female friend, before starting all over again. Minutes now crawled even more slowly, as if they had sex and got themselves pregnant during our tea break. The words moved around my head in circles singing lullabies as I fought very hard to keep myself awake. My boss was now seated in the row ahead of mine and I was sure, if I slept – which meant I might snore – I would lose my job. So, I fought valiantly, staring at the woman every few minutes for stimulation.
There was sudden applause and I didn't miss the desperation in my energies as I joined others, clapping so hard that my palms ached. The clapping died after a few seconds, but somehow, I couldn't stop clapping. I clapped, and clapped, looking at my hands and looking at others, most of whom now stared at me. I noticed that my boss turned in his seat and glared at me, his eyebrows signaling a message. I was sure he wanted me to stop. But I couldn't; the attention I was now getting made something inside me joyful. I also noticed the attractive woman look at me with an anxious expression, and continued clapping, so much that my head throbbed, my eyes leaked and my lips trembled at the effort. I also felt sweat drops gingerly slither down my back. The echo of my claps crowded on me and the stares pushed me into an inky depth of nothingness. I closed my eyes. I wanted to shout, but couldn't. I heard someone whisper in my ears and I opened my eyes.
The speaker had changed and the world around me was as boring as before the dream. I took a long breath and was relieved at the discovery. “Did I snore?” I asked the man seated beside me, who looked at me with disgust and nodded. I controlled the urge to hit him. “Was it loud enough for the man over there,” I pointed towards my boss, “to have heard?” The disgust on his face multiplied and the nod became livelier. This, I knew meant serious damage as I had slept in the last conference also, and in the one before that, and all the times before that. And now I was on the final leash of life. My boss had warned me that just one more time and my story was over. I mustered some courage and asked the man again, “did he look around?” In response the man just got up and shifted a few seats further from me. Bastard, I muttered under my breath.
At the lunch time, I avoided my boss. I didn't have the courage to hear about my dismissal in front of everyone. So, I marked him from the corner of my eyes, and moved around as he moved speaking to people. The food was a good distraction and my taste buds allowed a temporary relief as I dunked in some real good butter chicken and butter nan , my all time favorite combination. It was while I was savoring the dessert that I met my woman friend once again. We were out in the open, the winter sun peacefully warming the best around us. Blue rock pigeons sat on the trees in the courtyard below chatting frankly in their chirpy-echoes-in-a-well-type-sounds.
“Hi again!” she smiled and I smiled back, nodding like the frank flapping of a fabric drying in a gale. She looked sweeter than the sweet in her hands and for a moment I felt stupid eating something less sweet. “You look worried.”
Did I? I tried to fake a smile and declared, “I guess I am fine.”
“The second presentation was also interesting, so educating, so…”
“More dessert?” I interrupted, sacred to recall the conference and the disasters I committed.
“You didn't like the presentation, I think. Am I right?”
I nodded with the innocence of a school child.
“Which one of the two you didn't like?” I liked the way she asked the question and I wondered. What if she also didn't like the presentation just like me? What if she is just faking? What if all the people inside were faking?
I couldn't lie to her, so I mustered some courage but spoke slowly, “both were boring for me but I hated the first one more. Maybe, because I slept in the second one…. By the way, you were seated right in the front row… tell me did you hear me snore?” She moved her head sideways and I almost jumped in joy. That meant, I thought, my boss didn't hear me at all. That also meant I could keep the job. So what if I didn't like working in this stupid company, with this stupid boss, at least it was paying me well. And who in the world would pay an idiot like me, who is dreaming all the time, clicking bad pictures, writing stories even more badly? My friends called me a failure; my parents called me a burden; my two girlfriends – both left me eventually – called me a pest, addicted to a world that didn't exist. One called me an egotist and the other, called me an alcoholic, just because I liked to drink heavily at the parties.
I liked the way she smiled, before whispering that she too didn't enjoy the presentations enough. “Oh!” I was surprised to hear the response though I had secretly desired just the same. “What about others?” I wanted to see how far my hunch could take me. “I guess it was the same with everybody.”
“You know,” I scratched my stubble and spoke to her what I always wanted to speak to a good friend about my boss, “the first speaker was my boss. He is worst scum on this earth. He is such an idiot that it is impossible to work for him. But you know, these times of recession, I just don't have any choice.” She nodded understandingly and I marveled at my convincing powers. We joined the conference again after a few more minutes and I now dozed more confidently as she had agreed to pinch me if I snored. Now she sat right in front of me and it was a big relief in submerging into the world of my choice from where I could abuse my boss, become his boss, sack him for incompetence and order him to fetch me a cup of tea.
When the conference got over, I and the woman exchanged our cell phone numbers. After a couple of days, I asked her if she could join me for a dinner. She agreed and I reached the address she SMS-ed me, wearing my best clothes sprinkled with the most expensive perfume in my cupboard. I found her standing in front of the gate, just as she had promised. Beauty conveniently clung over her, playing an overt game with the smart outfit she wore. It was already dusk and the dimming light abysmally contrasted with the glow on her face, failing like a born loser. Behind her, I caught something familiar on the name plate that slung heavily from the big wrought iron gates. I didn't have to focus hard to find out more. It was the name of my boss and she was his daughter. I heard her laugh behind me, as I raced away on my motorbike.
Glossary:
Nan (Hindi). An oblong shaped Indian bread made of wheat flour.
*
I was at this conference. The lights had been dimmed; a man addicted to conferencing was putting across his strong views on a subject I wasn't least bit interested in, with ease. He wore a tragic looking white suit, proportioned inversely with a black shirt underneath. The red tie that intriguingly peeped from under the coat was clearly hesitant, as if, of its being of a color. I was focusing on the top of his head, not knowing anything better to do, which seemed to shine divine, having eradicated all the hairy vegetation from its surface. Earlier – that is before the conference had begun – the shine was even happier, reflecting playfully the many overhead lights. Now it seemed meditative, wobbling gently in agreement with whatever the man was trying to say.
I was bored to the limits of boredom, alive only to the frolicking of strange thoughts in my mind. Minutes dragged around me like earthworms slowing down. The air-conditioned space I was locked in, along with about fifty others, tasted and smelt of words bouncing off the walls, rolling gently down here and there, before giving up to a just-arrived batch of fresh, boring words. I dozed off a few times, getting up with a start each time, only to find no one noticing, and the man still talking. Could I have got up and walked away? Hell, no way! The trouble was, the man speaking from the dais was my boss and he had asked me – ordered, actually – to observe the reaction of all the listeners and report to him at the very end. ‘Your presentation was great boss,' my response was already ready in my mind, but the boring lecture continued.
It was only towards the end, perhaps, that I noticed an attractive woman seated diagonally across, listening intently, nodding now and then. I could see her from the side but it wasn't very clear due to the slight light. Even then, I couldn't help notice a virtuous nose rise gently, bisecting a pair of plump lips and an eye that surely hid a cluster of twinkling stars. I kicked myself for having missed noticing her before the conference, at the registration desk. Or maybe she came in late, I wondered, for I was convinced I wasn't used to making such blunders. In fact haven't made one such in thirty years, toddling years and kid-hood included.
Finally it ended, clapping hands screaming a relief which made my job of convincing my boss easier. Minutes later, I was whispering in his ears. “Boss it was great… did you notice the thunder in the applause?” He smiled, his chest ballooning in labor as he took a long breath, and his shiny head now reflecting all of the overhead lights. He got back to his talking, explaining to the three foolish people who stood around him, the highlights of his presentation.
I moved to the farthest corner of the tea room, taking shelter behind bodies of all others, and picked up a cup of tea. I couldn't curse for having taken a sip of the very hot liquid absentmindedly. I just couldn't, as I found myself peering into a familiar face. Hi, she said, as I gulped the liquid, fighting with my face to break into a smile. When she smiled, I knew I had succeeded. She offered a brief introduction which I listened intently and when done, I offered mine. I noticed her and it became like a man noticing an attractive female, the opposite gender. Her face was like a breathless surrender of a white dove to the summer heat – the eyes felt so intriguingly inquisitive that I worried it will rob all the charm around her that they could see; the nose stood like a winner after a lucrative prize; the cheeks flowed down in angles and curves never experienced or discovered by anyone before; and the lips sat like a fire under preservation. I stared, aware that I stared, and she talked, aware, I thought, that I stared.
As time tamed the laws of attraction to normalcy – which must have been ten minutes or so later – she told me that my boss was one of the best speakers she has heard for a really long time. The attraction ebbed silently, enough that in a few minutes I didn't die of a heart attack as she went back to her seat in the conference room. The lights dimmed once again and another person now took over the dais and started an equally boring presentation. I hated him, only until I saw my friend nodding enthusiastically. I looked down at the carpet inspecting my shoes, looked up to inspect the ceiling, looked at the walls making faces at the speakers on the walls, looked around at the faces of the mesmerized people and looked at my female friend, before starting all over again. Minutes now crawled even more slowly, as if they had sex and got themselves pregnant during our tea break. The words moved around my head in circles singing lullabies as I fought very hard to keep myself awake. My boss was now seated in the row ahead of mine and I was sure, if I slept – which meant I might snore – I would lose my job. So, I fought valiantly, staring at the woman every few minutes for stimulation.
There was sudden applause and I didn't miss the desperation in my energies as I joined others, clapping so hard that my palms ached. The clapping died after a few seconds, but somehow, I couldn't stop clapping. I clapped, and clapped, looking at my hands and looking at others, most of whom now stared at me. I noticed that my boss turned in his seat and glared at me, his eyebrows signaling a message. I was sure he wanted me to stop. But I couldn't; the attention I was now getting made something inside me joyful. I also noticed the attractive woman look at me with an anxious expression, and continued clapping, so much that my head throbbed, my eyes leaked and my lips trembled at the effort. I also felt sweat drops gingerly slither down my back. The echo of my claps crowded on me and the stares pushed me into an inky depth of nothingness. I closed my eyes. I wanted to shout, but couldn't. I heard someone whisper in my ears and I opened my eyes.
The speaker had changed and the world around me was as boring as before the dream. I took a long breath and was relieved at the discovery. “Did I snore?” I asked the man seated beside me, who looked at me with disgust and nodded. I controlled the urge to hit him. “Was it loud enough for the man over there,” I pointed towards my boss, “to have heard?” The disgust on his face multiplied and the nod became livelier. This, I knew meant serious damage as I had slept in the last conference also, and in the one before that, and all the times before that. And now I was on the final leash of life. My boss had warned me that just one more time and my story was over. I mustered some courage and asked the man again, “did he look around?” In response the man just got up and shifted a few seats further from me. Bastard, I muttered under my breath.
At the lunch time, I avoided my boss. I didn't have the courage to hear about my dismissal in front of everyone. So, I marked him from the corner of my eyes, and moved around as he moved speaking to people. The food was a good distraction and my taste buds allowed a temporary relief as I dunked in some real good butter chicken and butter nan , my all time favorite combination. It was while I was savoring the dessert that I met my woman friend once again. We were out in the open, the winter sun peacefully warming the best around us. Blue rock pigeons sat on the trees in the courtyard below chatting frankly in their chirpy-echoes-in-a-well-type-sounds.
“Hi again!” she smiled and I smiled back, nodding like the frank flapping of a fabric drying in a gale. She looked sweeter than the sweet in her hands and for a moment I felt stupid eating something less sweet. “You look worried.”
Did I? I tried to fake a smile and declared, “I guess I am fine.”
“The second presentation was also interesting, so educating, so…”
“More dessert?” I interrupted, sacred to recall the conference and the disasters I committed.
“You didn't like the presentation, I think. Am I right?”
I nodded with the innocence of a school child.
“Which one of the two you didn't like?” I liked the way she asked the question and I wondered. What if she also didn't like the presentation just like me? What if she is just faking? What if all the people inside were faking?
I couldn't lie to her, so I mustered some courage but spoke slowly, “both were boring for me but I hated the first one more. Maybe, because I slept in the second one…. By the way, you were seated right in the front row… tell me did you hear me snore?” She moved her head sideways and I almost jumped in joy. That meant, I thought, my boss didn't hear me at all. That also meant I could keep the job. So what if I didn't like working in this stupid company, with this stupid boss, at least it was paying me well. And who in the world would pay an idiot like me, who is dreaming all the time, clicking bad pictures, writing stories even more badly? My friends called me a failure; my parents called me a burden; my two girlfriends – both left me eventually – called me a pest, addicted to a world that didn't exist. One called me an egotist and the other, called me an alcoholic, just because I liked to drink heavily at the parties.
I liked the way she smiled, before whispering that she too didn't enjoy the presentations enough. “Oh!” I was surprised to hear the response though I had secretly desired just the same. “What about others?” I wanted to see how far my hunch could take me. “I guess it was the same with everybody.”
“You know,” I scratched my stubble and spoke to her what I always wanted to speak to a good friend about my boss, “the first speaker was my boss. He is worst scum on this earth. He is such an idiot that it is impossible to work for him. But you know, these times of recession, I just don't have any choice.” She nodded understandingly and I marveled at my convincing powers. We joined the conference again after a few more minutes and I now dozed more confidently as she had agreed to pinch me if I snored. Now she sat right in front of me and it was a big relief in submerging into the world of my choice from where I could abuse my boss, become his boss, sack him for incompetence and order him to fetch me a cup of tea.
When the conference got over, I and the woman exchanged our cell phone numbers. After a couple of days, I asked her if she could join me for a dinner. She agreed and I reached the address she SMS-ed me, wearing my best clothes sprinkled with the most expensive perfume in my cupboard. I found her standing in front of the gate, just as she had promised. Beauty conveniently clung over her, playing an overt game with the smart outfit she wore. It was already dusk and the dimming light abysmally contrasted with the glow on her face, failing like a born loser. Behind her, I caught something familiar on the name plate that slung heavily from the big wrought iron gates. I didn't have to focus hard to find out more. It was the name of my boss and she was his daughter. I heard her laugh behind me, as I raced away on my motorbike.
Glossary:
Nan (Hindi). An oblong shaped Indian bread made of wheat flour.
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