One Cuppa Chai

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Chapter 10
Smoke on the Sambar

It's not very easy to be the only one in the room lacking the necessary motivation and ambition that a wannabe law solicitor required. My mother didn't apparently find it imperative enough to give me a little hint that I would have to sit through a selection interview for LLB and pretend that it was everything I wanted in my life.

I sighed and looked around at the young people with the notes in their hand; rats in a race, all of them. I could literally feel the fierce ambition in their gaze. Just noticing the eager optimism on most of their faces made me feel alien.

I sighed and slumped down into my seat. Mrs D'Souza dropped me off on the way to work two hours ago,I scribbled off an MCQ preliminary when I arrived and was waiting for my registration number to pop up on the call tab. But no such luck until then.

The plush leather sofa sunk down under me, embracing my delicate weight as if it was nothing.

I did have to admit, the architecture was remarkable.

The reception was flanked with chocolate brown walls on either side that held paintings and famous quotes from renowned personalities.
The doors could have been a different colour, but I understand that the motivation behind the building was a reflection of the professionalism of the course in itself. Not to amuse my architectural palate.

Though I could not have less belonged in a place as that room, among all those clever kids, the ambience was strangely comforting. Maybe it was the smell of old books on the shelves that felt familiar.

But one fact that did not comfort me in the least is that I knew that the quality of campus life was directly proportional to the students' intellectual weightage. Or good grades on paper. Or both.

Even with a 90 something percentile in the boards, I knew that I didn't follow any court proceedings ever in my life.
I didn't ever read the daily paper, for the love of God! I mean, I could recount all the latest celebrity gossip in tinseltown, but I had a feeling that was not what they would be looking for.

But, I had someone to put in a good word for me.I hope that was enough.

I wondered at that moment if there would be any kind of practice that I would feel like I belonged to, like a piece in a puzzle. My arena: where I would work with everything I'd got just for the pleasure of it. At least an itsy bitsy sense of personal satisfaction.

It was strange how people my age knew exactly what they wanted, where they fit in; while I'd spent most of my teenage life doing what I pleased and there was no telling what my calling in life was.

But now I was headed off to spend a good amount of time scrutinising all the legal glossary in the world.

God, did I actually sound worried about my future for a moment? It must be the place, intimidating the unambitious like nobody's business.

I watched person by person, serenade into the room, ready to tackle an obstacle to get into one of the most prestigious law schools in the country.

The receptionist called out my number and my throat parched instantly. Maybe, this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe I can tell her that I have a little nature's call and sneak off.
The receptionist regarded my rigid, unmoving frame with narrowed eyes. I slowly lifted myself up after a moment and gave her my prize-winning smile.
She looked like he wanted to roll her eyes and went back to his desk work.

All eyes turned to me as I walked into the room to be slaughtered.

Mindlessly, I pushed the handle of the frosted glass door and the first thing I noticed was a clump of greyish hair pulled into a tight bun. The woman was tall and lean, a few loose hairs caressed her face and she pushed her spectacles back, observing the computer screen before her.