Hello, Mr. Major General (1)

Chapter 147 - A Better Person

Rashmi’s expression froze as her eyes fell upon the credit card in Shehnaaz’s hand. After a moment, she gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “I see you went to Professor Sen and complained about me, again. Shehnaaz, I
really do care about you. I want the best for you. You don’t have to appreciate what I do for you, but can’t you at least stop thinking of me as some kind of evil villainess, out to get you at every turn?”

“I never make assumptions about a person’s character.” Shehnaaz withdrew the credit card Kartik had given her and said, with a hint of sarcasm, “I only make inferences according to their behavior. Miss Desai, I don’t care what goes on inside that mind of yours, nor do I care about whatever private reasons you supposedly have for acting the way you do towards me. That’s none of my business, and I don’t want to know about it. All I want is to live peacefully for the next six months, and then return to India to continue my studies.”

Rashmi stared at Shehnaaz, her eyes filled with undisguised pity and sympathy. Shehnaaz squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. Shehnaaz sat down and resumed working on her computer. She kept her face deliberately turned towards her computer screen in an explicit display of hostility as she asked, “Miss Desai, is there something else?”

Rashmi sighed. She looked at Shehnaaz calmly.

Shehnaaz looked up from her computer and stared defiantly back at Rashmi.

She took in Rashmi’s slightly plump figure, her round face, her thin eyebrows, and her small mouth. Her nose was delicate and straight, and the corners of her eyes were slightly upturned—they were what were commonly known as “phoenix eyes,” similar to Kartik’s characteristic bright, almond-shaped eyes, except longer and narrower. She looked like a classical beauty who had just walked out from an old painting; her full figure and chubby cheeks were pleasant and attractive to look at—if she kept her mouth shut.

Shehnaaz seized the opportunity to carefully look Rashmi over. The longer she stared at her, the more familiar she seemed to Shehnaaz.
Who? Who does she remind me of? Shehnaaz’s thoughts ran wild as the cogs turned inside her head. Her eyes glazed over as she tried to remember.

Rashmi quietly watched Shehnaaz. When she saw that
Shehnaaz had zoned out, she smiled pleasantly and left the small office.

Shehnaaz was staring at Rashmi’s retreating back when it suddenly hit her. She knew now why Rashmi seemed so familiar to her.

Back in her Andheri apartment bedroom, in C City of  India, there were several dolls she had played with as a child.

A dreamy princess outfit in pink gauze and purple organdy, thick bangs that covered the forehead, narrow eyes, a face as round and fair as a dinner plate, and a full figure—the dolls had resembled the young ladies commonly seen in classical paintings.

And now, they reminded her strongly of Rashmi. They were not entirely alike, of course; there were many differences between the two, but the overall feeling was the same…

Rashmi resembled her dolls. Why was that?

Shehnaaz chewed on her pen. She made up her mind to call Sidharth later that night to ask where the dolls had come from.

She kept herself busy with her work at the Committee of Appropriations. When it was time to call it a day, she finally discovered she no longer had access to the archives. Her access was now limited to the most basic files; everything else now said “Restricted Access” when she tried
to open them.

What could she do?

Oh well—time to grow mushrooms.

…