Eye On You Page 9

  Be long enough in this shit hole and I’ll see how much you smile and feel happy about.

  “One of Myra’s friends is here to meet you. Her name is Anahita.” Sonali pointed towards the sofa where she sat waiting, her head bent over her phone, fingers furiously busy as her shiny streaked hair tumbled over.

  Dipti said a little curse inside her mouth. To start the day with an almost dressing down by the SP and then a meeting with yet another pretty young thing with shiny hair carefully tousled, perky breasts arrested in a tight jacket, tiny skirt and long boots that rose above her knee… Dipti could feel anger rising along with acidic bile.

  “Yes. Are you here to meet me?” Dipti stood where she was, not taking a step towards her. The long-legged Anahita stood up in one fluid motion, wearing a mini skirt that ended mid-thigh, with the rest of long sinewy legs encased in leather boots. Blessed with a willowy body, she swayed her hips naturally as she walked towards Dipti. She wore a body-hugging short leather jacket, unzipped, revealing a magenta tube top inside. Multiple chains hung around her slender neck, one of them, a short one, lost in the valley of her cleavage.

  “Officer,” she almost cooed tilting her head sideways allowing her shiny mane to tumble on one side. Dipti grimaced silently as she turned around to walk towards her room. Taken aback by the unnecessary snub and cold shoulder, Anahita scuttled behind Dipti the heels of her boots clicking on the floor.

  “What is it and what do you want?” Seeing them, talking to them made her feel ugly, small, fat, poor and…just ugly. Starting the day with Anahita gesticulating with her perfectly manicured nails and long legs delicately placed one above the other, the perfectly round and fair knee peeping; it made Dipti want to snap, be rude and mean.

  “Officer, there’s something wrong with my phone. It switches on and off by itself. Pictures are getting deleted and are getting posted all by themselves. Messages are being sent, messages that I have not written. Somehow my appointment with a hairstylist that I had been trying so hard to get; got cancelled. She said I’d messaged her. Showed me the message too. But I didn’t send the message.” Dipti stared back at the oval-shaped eyes that looked lost and helpless. The cancelled appointment was devastating and Anahita hoped the Inspector across the table would understand her plight. Dipti chewed the inside of her lower lip, took few deep breaths to calm the rising surge of anger inside her.

  “You are here to make a complaint about your cancelled appointment for some hair job?” It took every ounce of willpower for not getting up and slapping the no make-up face that had taken Ana an hour and loads of products to achieve.

  Anahita looked shocked and then continued. “Of course not, Inspector. I’m not an idiot that I will come to the police station for something like that. I think my phone has been hacked. I deleted a picture that I took on the night of Myra’s party. The picture got posted on Instagram yesterday morning. See, this one.” She placed the phone on the table, opened the Instagram feed, scrolled it to the one and turned the phone towards Dipti, whose interest was piqued the moment she heard Myra’s name.

  “This one. I’d deleted the picture. I didn’t post it.” Dipti leaned over to look at the picture. It was a selfie of Anahita in the lobby of Myra’s building on the night of the party. She stood before the water cascade and in the background was Arjun. The same picture that Sonali found and the one Dipti used to get a search warrant for Arjun’s house, which led to his arrest.

  “How can you be sure that you didn’t post this picture?”

  “It’s not a good picture at all. The angle is all wrong.” Anahita’s eyes grew wider. It was beyond her understanding that the Inspector couldn’t see for herself what a disaster the picture was! She seemed to have a double chin and the angle was wrong; made her waist look broader.

  “I deleted the picture. I would never ever use such a picture on my feed. I’m a social media influencer, Inspector.” Her eyes remained saucer-shaped. She expected Dipti to understand the importance of her pictures and why she would never post an awful pic.

  Dipti nodded and kept staring at the picture.

  Anahita continued. “You have to believe me. I deleted it. I don’t forget these things and this picture is so horrible. My friends are asking me why do I have a double chin! And I look plump around the middle. It’s horrible to have a picture like this on social media.” Anahita looked crushed.

  Dipti forgot to snap at the woman and grabbed the phone while staring at the picture. Thoughts were racing inside her head. Too many at the same time.

  ‘This is the picture Sonali found yesterday and I used to search Arjun’s house. She is saying she deleted the picture. Then how is it on her Insta feed now?’

  “There’s something more, Inspector. I think someone is switching on the camera on my laptop to peep into my room.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “On at least 3 occasions, I found my laptop camera was switched on. My laptop is usually on my bed or the work table in my bedroom.” Anahita flicked her hair back while speaking.

  “Maybe you switched it on and then forgot about it?”

  “No. I’m absolutely certain I didn’t. After the second time it happened, I turned it off and noted it in my diary. I wrote: switched off camera at xyz time. After 2 hours, it had switched on again. I’m scared. I have seen movies where creeps hack into the laptop and look at women in their bedrooms. I’m scared. Someone has been looking at me in my bedroom while I have been changing, trying out clothes…”

  “I need your phone. It has to be examined by the cyber-crime department. If there’s something in it, we’ll find it.” Dipti began punching numbers on her phone, already switched off from Anahita who was still sitting.

  “Anyone sending you dirty messages off late?”

  “Officer I have 72K followers. I’m a fashion and lifestyle blogger. Dirty messages are part of the territory and don’t bother me.” Anahita leaned back and began twirling a long strand of hair in her thin tiny finger.

  Dipti’s mind was far away and Anahita’s words weren’t registering anymore.

  “Okay, leave now. Give your alternate details to Sonali. We will check your phone and account, and get back.” Anahita flinched at the tone and the curt dismissal. But she knew better than to argue with the short, stout woman who looked angry and ready to bite.

  Chapter 14. Myra

  I’m going mad. I want to run away somewhere far.

  Arjun had my bra in his sock drawer!! He was at an abortion clinic on the night of my party. He got some woman pregnant. A married woman.

  I could hardly focus in the gym. That never happens. Never. Exercise always pushes away all thoughts out of my head. Dipti is saying that someone entered Arjun’s house and planted my bra. Arjun is with another woman and he got her pregnant.

  The thoughts run in a loop and I feel trapped inside it, going crazy, feeling dizzy. How is this even possible? Arjun has called…have lost track of the number of times. Messaged again and again.

  Let’s talk. Allow me to explain. I know I goofed up. Let’s talk.

  What’s left to talk. What is he going to say that could make this easier? He has been seeing another woman and he got her pregnant. He can’t talk his way out of this. No one can.

  Who is the other man…the delivery guy who slipped into Arjun’s home and put my bra in his closet? Is he the one who had raped me or did the rapist hand him my bra? Who came into my home that night and raped me?

  I’m lost in my thoughts. I don’t hear Subodh. It’s only when he places a finger on my arm, I almost jump up, startled.

  “Are you okay, Myra?” I look surprised and then realize that he has called out my name twice and I didn’t respond.

  Sales figures and charts are on the display board. I can tell he is annoyed. His piercing eyes are fixed on me as is every other pair of eyes in the room.

  “Yes, sure. I’m fine.” I just shake my head as though that would dispel the thoughts. All eyes around the table are on me. I
try to hold the sigh that’s threatening to escape.

  “I’m sorry everyone. I’m just…just…I’m sorry. Please stop staring at me like that. I’m fine. Really.”

  I can’t let this get in my head and mess with my work. I force myself to focus on the strategizing and action plans that have been laid out. Three gruelling hours whizz by before I walk out of the conference room. Anushka falls in step with me.

  “If you need help, I’m just a call away Myra. I hope you know that.” She doesn’t even have the decency to look at me while offering assistance; she is typing something on the mobile. I’m so done with the fake sympathy. She was in line for my post when Subodh decided he wanted someone new, fresh and better. Much better. Me. That didn’t go down well with her. Everyone, including Anushka, had thought she would get the job but she didn’t. After I joined, the office grapevine silently and secretly betted on her departure but that didn’t happen. It’s not easy to match the salary here and the stock option plan is juicy enough to keep us chained to the desk. I look at her. She can’t walk few steps without panting. Overweight, flabby; she’s a poster woman for obesity and health hazards that come with excess weight. She eats all the wrong things, must have exercised a few decades back when the PT teacher had yelled at her to do so. It shows on her patchy skin, layers of flab that jiggle as she moves. People like her make me angry. If you can be careless and callous about your health; you aren’t worthy of being trusted with anything. Least of all with an important job.

  “Thank you for the offer Anushka but if I need any help, I have friends for that. I wouldn’t knock on your door.” I walk away before she can respond. I know for a fact she has been gossiping and feeding the office gossip hotline about me, my life, and what happened. I don’t mind bitchy behaviour or backbiting. I can deal with that but fake sympathy and fake offer of help make me mad.

  “I’m glad you gave it back to that…” Judy leaves the sentence incomplete and follows me to my room.

  “Sack of fat.” Both of us break into a laugh. The two of us have a nickname for Anushka. FAB. Fat and bitchy.

  “While you were away FAB was trying to get Subodh for a drink after work and he kept saying no. But she was unrelenting; kept at it.”

  “Then what happened?” I was having a tough time trying not to chuckle.

  “Subodh just said, I’m trying to cut down on alcohol. Sumi has me on a diet and if I cheat, she’ll kill me.”

  The lengths some people go to; never ceases to amaze me but then I work in a shark pit. I would have done the same if I were in her shoes and if she was indisposed for a week. But then I would never be in her shoes…literally and figuratively. Such ugly taste!

  “Why doesn’t she leave?” Judy makes a face and tilts her head towards where Anushka sits.

  Because she stands to lose her stock options if she leaves now. The layers of fat are only on her body; not in her brain. That’s lean, mean, and sharp. She’s many things but not an idiot. I don’t tell all this to Judy, who I suspect knows it but still, I don’t want to put it out there by uttering the words.

  “Judy, let’s get back to work now. I have to give a once over to the proposal and then send it out. I need to finish a lot of stuff today.”

  Just as I’m about to dive into work, Subodh pops his head.

  “Got a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you okay, Myra? I know it’s a lot to handle but the IPO is just weeks ahead and I need all hands on deck. Do you need few weeks off?” he shuts the door behind him as he walks in. “If you do, I can totally understand it. Things happen. Shit happens.”

  “Absolutely not, Subodh. This is what you hired me for. This is what we have been working towards and I’m top of things. Really. I am.” I lie convincingly. My heart is doing a fluttery dance inside my chest but I somehow manage to keep my eye on him and don’t flinch. He stares back as though trying to decide whether to believe me or not.

  “Yes, you’re right. I hired you for this day. And you are the best person for the job, Myra. I can’t imagine anyone else but you leading the team now. Okay, all good. Let’s kick ass.” He smiles and walks out, and I finally allow myself to breathe.

  Pull yourself together, Myra. Do not fuck this up. Too much is at stake. Don’t let your mind wander. I almost scold myself and dive into the mountain of work that awaits me.

  It excites me. I love work. Work-related tension. Deadlines and chaos. Chaos is the new cocaine. I heard that line in some TV show and it stuck on. I thrive on it.

  It’s almost 8 pm when I look away from my laptop. I flex my neck and shoulder muscles. It’s dark outside, the cityscape illuminated, dazzling like diamonds. The arterial Golf Course is packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic. The opulent Magnolia-Camelia facing the lush golf green beckons once again. That’s where I want to be. Be able to buy a flat, facing acres of rolling green. Subodh lives in one. That’s what I want and I’ll get there. I know I will. But first, the IPO needs to go through without a hitch. I need to be in my A-game and there’s this cloud inside me. I keep pushing it away. Work and exercise help to keep away but only for a while. It threatens to engulf me and cripple my brain. When that happens, it feels as though I’m slowly sinking into a black hole. Just darkness and then I feel like shutting my eyes and rolling up into a ball.

  I can’t allow this to happen. Not now. Now is too crucial and important to sink into darkness. I remain standing near the glass, staring at the traffic and the buildings. I feel a low rumble in my tummy and I realize that I haven’t had my lunch.

  My lunch - a quinoa pulao with grilled veggies and blocks of cottage cheese and hung curd raita is sitting on the tray with cling film wrapped on it. Judy has reminded me thrice. It’s 8.30 now. I pick up the food and walk out.

  “I’m leaving Judy.” I pop my head at her station. She never leaves before me and always arrives before I do. She has moved cities and jobs to be with me. My office assistant, woman Friday rolled into one. She remembers birthdays, anniversaries, everything for me. Buys gifts, flowers, bottles of wine, champagne, and ensures they are delivered with the appropriate handwritten message. I will not be able to function without Judy.

  “She stays late almost every day; wonder how she manages home?” as I walk out, I think to myself. I’d be a mess without Malti. Judy knows my life inside out and I don’t even know if she has a boyfriend or not. What about her parents? Does she have a sibling? I know nothing about her personal life.

  “I’ll ask her tomorrow.” I make a note in my memo app. Ask Judy about her life.

  I call Hridi as I wait for the elevator. Her phone keeps ringing, she doesn’t pick up and sends a ping.

  ‘At work. Will call later.’ I desperately want to speak with her and offload my thoughts. But she’s busy.

  The Starbucks is empty now and I don’t see Suraj. Would have been nice to chat with him. Just blabber out my feelings. To rave and rant and scream.

  I walk out to the central courtyard. I grab a table near the fountain. It’s a cold crisp night and the AQI is a tad better. Few tables are occupied. I pull up the collar of my jacket and dig into the cold quinoa pulao. It tastes awful. I should have remembered to heat it in the microwave in the office pantry. I shove the plastic spoon in my mouth.

  “That would taste better if heated.” I turn towards the voice. It’s Suraj and he is walking towards me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you walk out of the elevator and peep into the café. I was inside, cleaning up.”

  “Good that you came up.” I return his smile and make a face again when I shove some more of the quinoa in my mouth.

  “Let’s go back in and I’ll heat this for you.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  The café feels comfortable. Suraj heats the pulao, transfers it on a plate with spoons and places the Tabasco sauce bottle next to my plate for me to garnish it. I begin to wolf it down. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

 
“Busy day, huh? No time to eat?”

  I nod between mouthfuls. I punch the food with the fork as though it’s Arjun’s head. I finish every morsel on the plate, gulp down water from the plastic cup that Suraj had carried to the table. A tiny throb starts in my right temple and I press it.

  “Should I leave, Myra?”

  “No. Don’t. Please stay, Suraj.” My voice sounds alien, weak and almost like a sob.

  “What happened? Other than…” Thankfully he leaves the sentence incomplete.

  “My boyfriend was at an abortion clinic with his pregnant girlfriend. A married girlfriend.” I blabber out and instead of feeling awful and cringy about it; strangely it feels better. As though I’d spat out the toxic shitty truth.

  Suraj stays silent and I tell him everything. About the cops finding the picture on Instagram, the bra in his closet, his arrest and finally his admission of where he was. He is silent and so am I. The halls are quiet, well almost. I can hear the roll of the housekeeping trolley. Someone is sweeping the floors. Someone else pulls down the shutter of his shop. The day has ended.

  “I’m exhausted, Suraj. Mentally, physically…emotionally…I just don’t have any strength to go on. And then there is work. I can’t take my mind away from the work and I’m struggling to focus.”

  “Take it slow, Myra. Don’t push yourself too hard. Maybe you should take some time off.” His voice is soft, warm and full of caring concern.

  “I can’t Suraj. I have to swing back into the game with the speed and ferocity I had earlier. There’s an IPO coming up. I can’t take off now. I’ll be dumped. That’s the nature of this beast. Be there, run along or get left out.” I’m surprised by my choice of words. It’s not so bad. Yes, I work with a bunch of cut-throat people, each looking out for their own, ready to jump in and fill the vacant spot but they aren’t exactly pariahs as I paint them to be. Will Subodh ask me to leave if I step aside for few weeks? Will my share of the pie reduce? I don’t have answers to the questions.

  “Oh dear, that sounds awful. Thank god I’m not in their world and only serve coffee and baked goodies to them.” He gives a sheepish laugh. He sits silently while I sip water. I’m glad for the silence.