The Mysteries Of dadi

Part 1

'So...Waseem Butt,' the interviewer tried his best to hide his smile behind my CV in his hands. Yes my surname is hilarious, get over it.

'Yes sir.'

'Tell me about yourself.'

'Sir, I am 27 years old. I'm from Delhi itself. I'm a Senior Software Developer in my current company where I have worked for over 4 years now. Before that I have done my B.Tech from Delhi University. I am a technology ethusiast and love working with new technologies. When I'm not working I am usually writing for my blog. I have worked in collaboration with top names like Google and Microsoft...'

I looked at him for a hint to stop talking but he was listening intently. I continued.

'Uh...my various projects include working as a full stack developer. Recently we launched this android app called..'

This is where he cuts me. Perfect.

'Waseem, tell me more about your family.'

I hate HR rounds. I so hate them.

'It consists of just me and my mother, sir.'

I looked at his face which might as well have written on it: And your father?

Alright.

'My father left us when I was a child. He wanted money more than us. It's just us since then.'

'Hmm.' He nodded his head as he read further.

'It seems to me you have a perfectly good job in your company Waseem. Why would you want this one? The compensation is almost the same...'

I felt my throat getting drier. I tried to gulp but couldn't.

'I love the work culture that your company inculcates. It's a benchmark for others. Money can be found anywhere but good companies are rare.'

He seemed a little surprised with my sudden fluid answer. Ofcourse, I had practiced it so many times over and over that it had become my perfect lie as opposed to the real reason.

After a few minutes of randomnly asking about my hobbies and good things and bad things he finally got up.

'Thank you for your time Waseem we'll surely inform you of the results soon.'

'Thank you so much for interviewing me.'

We shook hands with smiles that vanished the moment I turned and walked out.

The lobby was full of candidates dressed just like me. White shirts. Black ties. Trimmed hair. The whole corridor smelled of fake positivity as I passed.

I turned on my phone. There were 52 missed calls from ma in the one hour that I had turned off my phone. I called her back and her phone was busy. Amazing ma.

I opened the uber app and called a cab. It's not like I don't know how to drive, but driving your own car in Delhi is more of a mind game than physical. It's just too much stress than can be avoided.

I saw a white wagon R driving slowly along the side of the road. The driver called me and I waved my hand. He spotted me and took his hand out of the car window and started waving frantically. Why are you so excited, you're not the one waiting for a cab for 10 minutes?

I got in and we sped into the traffic jam. I tried calling ma again but her phone was still busy.

I put it aside. I loosened my tie and closed my eyes as I slouched in the backseat.

Life has become so stressful. Everyday I'm telling everything about myself in a closed room to a new person who is free to judge me all he wants on the first impression. Why did I have to do all this? I have an amazing job like he said and I don't give a shit what the work culture is like. I'm anyway on the computer from 9:00 to 6:00. Why the hell did I have to..

My phone started ringing. I opened my eyes. It was ma.

'Hey ma, you could have managed 60 calls in the one hour I turned off my phone, you're losing your touch.'

'Shut up Wassi, do you even know what has happened? Dadi (grandmother) has passed away. I am calling you since morning.'

No. No. No. No. No. This can't. This can't be.

'Ma, how did it happen, when did she..?'

'I'll tell you everything. You book two tickets for Kolkata first of all. We're going today. I have packed your bag.'

'Ma..'

She cut the call.

My poor Dadi.

She loves ma like her own daughter. All my childhood memories have her. I remember the last time we met her, she was trying her best to make dad and mom stay together, but dad refused and left for US. She was devasted.

Even till today ma calls her everyday. Ofcourse she is..was, so old that she barely remembers anything by the next day and asks everything all over again.

I said a small prayer for her.

I booked two tickets for Kolkata and put my phone in silent. I kept it back in my pocket and looked at all the distant clouds and imagined her flying past them.