“I'm confident that you will pull through the press-meet next week, Faulkner. I’m extremely confident,” Mr. Jackman said to me encouragingly as he left the elevator on his floor’s arrival. He was an experienced, authoritative sexagenarian and one of the early founding fathers of the company I’m working for. He is my boss too.
After the elevator door opened again with a ding, this time on my floor, I was out in a spur almost sprinting on my toes towards my room. As I swiped my finger on the biometric and entered, I threw my briefcase on to the chair and swiftly glanced at the digital clock on my table. It read 6.32 pm.
Late. Yet-again-late. But today she is going to burn me, my spouse. Promptness has always been Katy’s true métier, a thing that made me incompatible to her at times as a life-partner. Anyway, two of her friends were married to each other today morning, a traditional one. The reception is to be held today throughout the evening, and I’ve to accompany her for the occasion. One of the compulsiveness of a marriage includes accompanying your married to someone else’s marriage, irrespective of your familiarity with the groom and the bride.
I started clearing my new desk whilst running at the back of my head the mundane bitter happenings of the long day at office. Board meetings, drafting of memos, sanctioning of quotations, quality check inspections, politics of colleagues, dilemma of ethics, unfulfillable favours and all this with harrowing intermittent migraines. It’s always a good and warm feeling when office hours come to an end, whenever may it be. Always.
I took my office bag along with a few files, walked down to the parking lot, got into the car, woke up the poor piece of machinery and rode her to my house as fast as I could.
- - - - - - - -
It took her almost 100 seconds to reach and open the door, which seemed like a lulled eternity. But when she did open, I thought it was worth the wait. I stood there like an idiot, smiling at her.
“Cut the smile, Alex, we have to be at the hall in twenty minutes. Get a shower and be ready in five.”
“Sure, hon. Wanna join me?” I winked kinkily.
“You wish!” she chipped in a small kiss and walked towards her wardrobe.
I left my bag at my room and headed for shower.
She had just taken a bath herself and her pheromone mixed fragrance filled the whole house. I took a deep breath in. For some reason, in a trice, for a flash, I felt I was the luckiest person in the world to have gotten her. She was everything a woman should be; a sweetheart to savour and wrap around by arms, an Angel in disguise to guard me from harms, a friend for company when times got dull, and a philosopher to guide when times got dark. Few things in life are boon, let alone their existence is necessitated by Nature for survival. Some things, beyond our minds, encapsulate our hearts and make us wonder if their existence in our lives is even real. In my life, she is one of those things. The fortunate part is that, of all the people on Earth, it was me whom she chose to grow old with. Not one night goes by without me wondering beneath my blanket of how less or how more jubilant my life would’ve turned out if not for her ingress into my life. Not one night goes by without me feeling lucky, underneath the same blanket.
I was out in robes after a quick shower and headed towards my wardrobe, with the usual dilemma of what to wear. She was all dressed up standing in front of the mirror, probably concentrating on the miniscule details of her appearance. She never wore much of makeup but just a tinge of touch up amazingly amplified her beauty ten folds. And the I dressed up hurriedly (and miraculously!) in ten minutes and was out to our garage.
“Throw me the keys, let me drive.”
“Sure,” I threw.
I didn't personally know the couple whose reception we were headed toward. But I remember Katy telling me in the morning that they both were friends of hers since her (/their) school days. It’s a rarity to really see high-school sweethearts tuning their teenage, at times dangerously promiscuous, infatuation into a matured marriage designation. Now THAT seldom happens you know, seldom.
“So how close are you with them? You’ve known them for a pretty long time, right?”
“Oh, yeah. We go a long, long way back. We all used to be a gang, you know, like in any school there is this group that has three guys and three girls, and they are together all the time, in canteen, in class, in ground, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera… Sigh! I love those times.”
“Ahaan!”
“But when they fell in love, they had it going secretly together for months. And when they broke the news to us one fine day, it was one hell of a surprise. It was unbelievable! It was when we went for camping and they announced to us during the campfire.”
“Hmmm. Interesting.”, I smiled. Actually it wasn’t. Marital compulsions demand a partner to nod and exclaim every now and then, and it is done in turns.
“I never thought they will make it this far. And it wasn't easy for them either; they had to fight a lot for the marriage, to get it done traditionally. Both are from different backgrounds.”
I smiled, this time my smile had a deeper meaning. Our marriage too was not given to us in a golden platter; we had to fight for it together (like how them tennis players sweat it all out together to get the Wimbledon doubles championship trophy). Those experiences weren't exactly sweet, so I changed the topic.
“So how was your day, honey?”
“Don't even ask, Alex. They were as rebellious as they were on my first day. I really have no idea of how I’m going to cope with these insensitive lunatics. I highly doubt this will ease anytime soon. It’s been damn hostile so far. My previous debut was in fact much much more better.”
“Tut tut! Give some time for them to settle down, sugar lips! Let them first understand you; it’s been only a week right? All will work out fine.”
“Hmmm.”
“Have you read ‘To Sir, with love’? It is Teaching 101. Or at least ‘Dealing With Adolescent Rebels 101’. ”
“May you and your myriad of books go to heaven.”
I chuckled. I am an engineer turned Public Relations Vice-President at an airframe manufacturing company who got transferred to this State to be alongside the newly installed plant. We had moved in just last week. She luckily got a job in time at a private university here as a lecturer. Lucky because she started the fishing only after my transfer order came, the window was ridiculously short amount of time.
She had sacrificed her work for my sake despite my disapproval, but fortunately got paid more for an hour in this university than where she was before (which, by the way, partially wiped-off my guilt over her forfeiture). And of my new office? It was pretty much the same as before; the difference lay merely in the geography and the designation.
And thank God we didn't have any kids (yet!). We are still thinking through it though; but for now we have stopped discussing it. She always thought that she wasn't ready to take care of any toddlers or ankle-biters yet; and it sounded fair enough to me and for me.
There wasn't much traffic, we reached the hotel sooner than we expected. We walked in the hotel as a valet took care of the parking. Guided by the signs, we were comfortable in identifying the reception hall, a ball-room at that. As we entered, my eyeballs scanned whole of the hall. It was populated with people of almost all ages, with mid-thirties predominating. The marriage couple’s dais was far away, people were standing in queue and the couple was hid behind a bunch of people who were smothering them with wishes and hand-shakes and gifts when their turn was on.
Two minutes into the hall, Katy pulled me to all corners of the hall like a commoved kid, introducing me to every of her high-school friends after hugging them shrilling with thirty-two teeth enthusiasm. There was this Bonny who was a realtor, then this Mickey who had his own firm, and this Tony who was jobless but full of optimism (“just as always”, Katy whispered into my ears). A businessman, two pilots, one mime artist, a dentist, a small-scale industrialist, heck there was even one “adult-industrialist” (whom I found extremely attractive)!
After half-hour of introductions followed by cheek-numbing courtesy smiles, we both sat in two of the empty chairs that lay at one side of the hall.
“Bunch of real colourful school friends, you’ve got, Kat. Not Bad!”
“You bet! When are you going to introduce me yours?”
“When someone from my high-school gets married. Or when someone from my high-school gets dead. Two occasions that I can possibly think of which would conjure my fellow ex-schoolmates.”
She burst out a small laugh, pecking my stomach with her elbow playfully, times which make me doubt if her humour has gone down (or maybe was it her turn of marital compulsion and it is my level that has gone down?).
“But I can assure you there won't be any trull in my circle. That female there, one HAS to admit that she is a stunner!”
“Trull?”
“That Miss. Adult Industrialist.”
She straight-faced and I laughed! I thought I increased a tad of her jealousy. Until…
“Not funny! That trull you just shook hands with, there is something you ought to know.”
“Yeah?”
“She used to be a he during my school-days”
It took three seconds for it to seep into my head.“Wha...what?”
“Right-back-atchya!”
“Ewww!”
She laughed her heart out, leaving me with a small guilt for my momentary betrayal of my sexual orientation. Who would've thought a trull will troll?
“Fine. Come now, let’s go to the dais. Here, hold this gift for me, will you please?”
She handed me a metre-long gift wrapped box as she was searching for the greeting card in her purse. That was quite a long box for a gift. We joined the ladies and the gentlemen who were in the queue.
“What’s in this box?” I stuttered, examining all three dimensions of the box, perplexed.
“Queue is moving, quick, move, move!”
I frowned at her urge and turned to move forward, only to see a HUGE man’s back obstruct my intent. He snailed step-by-step with a bouquet in his hands that was as large as himself. As we neared the steps of the platform, I halted and let the lone man go to the dais with his flowers to meet the pair of the day, blocking my view of them.
As I conversed with Katy, the big man seemed to have congratulated them again and left after a flash-lit snapshot. She then impatiently jabbed me to move forward. I then saw the couple, at last. I turned and shot a glance at Katy, she stared back nodding with a faint smile, also with slightly moistened eyes. We climbed up the dais and Katy ran towards them shrieking, hugging both of them with exuberance. They too were equally excited in seeing Katy.
“My goodness! Katy!!! How many years since we’ve even met!”
“You Kittty-kat! Lovely to see you after so so many years! Am wordless!!!”
She then introduced them to me, “Alex, meet these lovely people from my lingering high-school past! This is Chuck Burns!”
I shook his hand.
“And this is George Binny,” I shook his hands too.
“Good to meet you, err, Alex?” puzzled George.
“Alexandra,” I clarified with a twinkly face.
“Sure, hon. Wanna join me?” I winked kinkily.
“You wish!” she chipped in a small kiss and walked towards her wardrobe.
I left my bag at my room and headed for shower.
She had just taken a bath herself and her pheromone mixed fragrance filled the whole house. I took a deep breath in. For some reason, in a trice, for a flash, I felt I was the luckiest person in the world to have gotten her. She was everything a woman should be; a sweetheart to savour and wrap around by arms, an Angel in disguise to guard me from harms, a friend for company when times got dull, and a philosopher to guide when times got dark. Few things in life are boon, let alone their existence is necessitated by Nature for survival. Some things, beyond our minds, encapsulate our hearts and make us wonder if their existence in our lives is even real. In my life, she is one of those things. The fortunate part is that, of all the people on Earth, it was me whom she chose to grow old with. Not one night goes by without me wondering beneath my blanket of how less or how more jubilant my life would’ve turned out if not for her ingress into my life. Not one night goes by without me feeling lucky, underneath the same blanket.
I was out in robes after a quick shower and headed towards my wardrobe, with the usual dilemma of what to wear. She was all dressed up standing in front of the mirror, probably concentrating on the miniscule details of her appearance. She never wore much of makeup but just a tinge of touch up amazingly amplified her beauty ten folds. And the I dressed up hurriedly (and miraculously!) in ten minutes and was out to our garage.
“Throw me the keys, let me drive.”
“Sure,” I threw.
I didn't personally know the couple whose reception we were headed toward. But I remember Katy telling me in the morning that they both were friends of hers since her (/their) school days. It’s a rarity to really see high-school sweethearts tuning their teenage, at times dangerously promiscuous, infatuation into a matured marriage designation. Now THAT seldom happens you know, seldom.
“So how close are you with them? You’ve known them for a pretty long time, right?”
“Oh, yeah. We go a long, long way back. We all used to be a gang, you know, like in any school there is this group that has three guys and three girls, and they are together all the time, in canteen, in class, in ground, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera… Sigh! I love those times.”
“Ahaan!”
“But when they fell in love, they had it going secretly together for months. And when they broke the news to us one fine day, it was one hell of a surprise. It was unbelievable! It was when we went for camping and they announced to us during the campfire.”
“Hmmm. Interesting.”, I smiled. Actually it wasn’t. Marital compulsions demand a partner to nod and exclaim every now and then, and it is done in turns.
“I never thought they will make it this far. And it wasn't easy for them either; they had to fight a lot for the marriage, to get it done traditionally. Both are from different backgrounds.”
I smiled, this time my smile had a deeper meaning. Our marriage too was not given to us in a golden platter; we had to fight for it together (like how them tennis players sweat it all out together to get the Wimbledon doubles championship trophy). Those experiences weren't exactly sweet, so I changed the topic.
“So how was your day, honey?”
“Don't even ask, Alex. They were as rebellious as they were on my first day. I really have no idea of how I’m going to cope with these insensitive lunatics. I highly doubt this will ease anytime soon. It’s been damn hostile so far. My previous debut was in fact much much more better.”
“Tut tut! Give some time for them to settle down, sugar lips! Let them first understand you; it’s been only a week right? All will work out fine.”
“Hmmm.”
“Have you read ‘To Sir, with love’? It is Teaching 101. Or at least ‘Dealing With Adolescent Rebels 101’. ”
“May you and your myriad of books go to heaven.”
I chuckled. I am an engineer turned Public Relations Vice-President at an airframe manufacturing company who got transferred to this State to be alongside the newly installed plant. We had moved in just last week. She luckily got a job in time at a private university here as a lecturer. Lucky because she started the fishing only after my transfer order came, the window was ridiculously short amount of time.
She had sacrificed her work for my sake despite my disapproval, but fortunately got paid more for an hour in this university than where she was before (which, by the way, partially wiped-off my guilt over her forfeiture). And of my new office? It was pretty much the same as before; the difference lay merely in the geography and the designation.
And thank God we didn't have any kids (yet!). We are still thinking through it though; but for now we have stopped discussing it. She always thought that she wasn't ready to take care of any toddlers or ankle-biters yet; and it sounded fair enough to me and for me.
There wasn't much traffic, we reached the hotel sooner than we expected. We walked in the hotel as a valet took care of the parking. Guided by the signs, we were comfortable in identifying the reception hall, a ball-room at that. As we entered, my eyeballs scanned whole of the hall. It was populated with people of almost all ages, with mid-thirties predominating. The marriage couple’s dais was far away, people were standing in queue and the couple was hid behind a bunch of people who were smothering them with wishes and hand-shakes and gifts when their turn was on.
Two minutes into the hall, Katy pulled me to all corners of the hall like a commoved kid, introducing me to every of her high-school friends after hugging them shrilling with thirty-two teeth enthusiasm. There was this Bonny who was a realtor, then this Mickey who had his own firm, and this Tony who was jobless but full of optimism (“just as always”, Katy whispered into my ears). A businessman, two pilots, one mime artist, a dentist, a small-scale industrialist, heck there was even one “adult-industrialist” (whom I found extremely attractive)!
After half-hour of introductions followed by cheek-numbing courtesy smiles, we both sat in two of the empty chairs that lay at one side of the hall.
“Bunch of real colourful school friends, you’ve got, Kat. Not Bad!”
“You bet! When are you going to introduce me yours?”
“When someone from my high-school gets married. Or when someone from my high-school gets dead. Two occasions that I can possibly think of which would conjure my fellow ex-schoolmates.”
She burst out a small laugh, pecking my stomach with her elbow playfully, times which make me doubt if her humour has gone down (or maybe was it her turn of marital compulsion and it is my level that has gone down?).
“But I can assure you there won't be any trull in my circle. That female there, one HAS to admit that she is a stunner!”
“Trull?”
“That Miss. Adult Industrialist.”
She straight-faced and I laughed! I thought I increased a tad of her jealousy. Until…
“Not funny! That trull you just shook hands with, there is something you ought to know.”
“Yeah?”
“She used to be a he during my school-days”
It took three seconds for it to seep into my head.“Wha...what?”
“Right-back-atchya!”
“Ewww!”
She laughed her heart out, leaving me with a small guilt for my momentary betrayal of my sexual orientation. Who would've thought a trull will troll?
“Fine. Come now, let’s go to the dais. Here, hold this gift for me, will you please?”
She handed me a metre-long gift wrapped box as she was searching for the greeting card in her purse. That was quite a long box for a gift. We joined the ladies and the gentlemen who were in the queue.
“What’s in this box?” I stuttered, examining all three dimensions of the box, perplexed.
“Queue is moving, quick, move, move!”
I frowned at her urge and turned to move forward, only to see a HUGE man’s back obstruct my intent. He snailed step-by-step with a bouquet in his hands that was as large as himself. As we neared the steps of the platform, I halted and let the lone man go to the dais with his flowers to meet the pair of the day, blocking my view of them.
As I conversed with Katy, the big man seemed to have congratulated them again and left after a flash-lit snapshot. She then impatiently jabbed me to move forward. I then saw the couple, at last. I turned and shot a glance at Katy, she stared back nodding with a faint smile, also with slightly moistened eyes. We climbed up the dais and Katy ran towards them shrieking, hugging both of them with exuberance. They too were equally excited in seeing Katy.
“My goodness! Katy!!! How many years since we’ve even met!”
“You Kittty-kat! Lovely to see you after so so many years! Am wordless!!!”
She then introduced them to me, “Alex, meet these lovely people from my lingering high-school past! This is Chuck Burns!”
I shook his hand.
“And this is George Binny,” I shook his hands too.
“Good to meet you, err, Alex?” puzzled George.
“Alexandra,” I clarified with a twinkly face.
- - - - - - - -
While driving on the way back home, I asked Katy what was inside that gift box.
She replied, “Two polished swords!” and winked. I smiled.
- - - - x - - - -
P.S : The sex of the author of this blog is strictly male and the sexual orientation of author of this blog is strictly straight. And this postscript message is strictly meant for females whose orientation is straight and males whose orientation isn't straight.
And to quote S.M.Sterling, "There is a technical, literary term for those who mistake the opinions and beliefes of characters in a novel for those of the author. The term is 'idiot'."
