Chapter 9
Third person's pov
"My sweetheart Adrita! How are you? Please, have a seat!"
Smiling, Adrita greets the head designer back and settles herself in front of Mr Matthew, the head designer.
With a sickly sweet voice, Mr Matthew implores, "My child, What a pleasure having you here but you shouldn't have bothered yourself! You just had to command and I would have been at your service."
Adrita shrugs at him pitifully ignoring his begging for promotion eyes. Reminding herself of the reason why she was here she puts forward her recent designs for the upcoming Gala to seek his approval. No matter what she respects the artist in Matthew.
Adrita could have very well missed the minuscule look of disappointment in Mr Matthew's eyes if only her whole focus wasn't on finding the specks of disapproval in his gaze.
"This is beautiful, Miss Adrita. Your design is surely getting a place in the event." He exclaims, his voice genuine yet forced. The cool and impressed expression could fool anyone if they miss to notice the subtle hesitancy in his voice.
A tiny pang of disappointment hits Adrita, not because her design turned out to be a failure but because how is she supposed to know where to improve?
She was about to question Mr Matthew but a little voice echoed in her head, "How much of an entitled person you can be? Look, how easy everything is for you. They will praise you even if you are the worst person alive."
Smiling, she picks up her designs, "I think I need some more time. I want out from the Gala project ."
Matthew, visibly relieved, gladly nods his head though still praising her design.
******
"This is what you call a survey, Mr Anirudh?" The harsh voice of the Vice President of the marketing department echoes throughout his cabin.
"This is nothing but a waste of time! I had high hopes for you and this is how you prove me wrong? Where is the mighty ambitious intern I saw myself in? What have you become? Where is the progress I expected?" The VP shouts, his words engraving themselves on Anirudh's mind.
The VP huffs out a heavy frustrated sigh and shakes his head in disappointment. Rubbing his forehead, he stares at Anirudh and adds, "I am sincerely disappointed, Mr Anirudh. If you continue like this you will keep on blurring your chances to achieve big. "
Pacing his way toward Anirudh he steps in front of him and speaks in a voice that manifests concern, "When I first met you I saw the spark, the passion I have never ever seen in any intern and thus you become my favourite. I give you responsibilities that no boss would ever give to a mere intern. Why? Because I see your potential. But for now, you are being dismissed from the Emerald Gala project. Go back to doing stupid errands."
"But let me give a piece of advice, Mr Anirudh, for temporary happiness, never defuse the fire that acts as your fuel. Distant yourself from everything that is acting as an obstacle on your road to success. Only the rich have alternative pathways to success, not the middle-class folk. I hope you haven't forgotten your status just because you have started hanging out with the rich. "
Saying that the VP dismisses a troubled Anirudh. He had always been in the good books of the VP, whatever tasks he was assigned he made sure to give his best. So what happened now?
It wasn't about the scolding, the raised voice, or the humiliation. He had heard worse, his colleagues had heard worse. But what bothered him was the question; how much of it was the truth? And was he getting so bad that he had to be thrown out of the project he had been working on for months?
Was he losing his passion? But how could he? He has dreams, dreams he never stopped dreaming, dreams he liked to call his purpose. No one can lose their purpose this easily. Can they?
He didn't believe that a single failed project gets to decide his whole life ahead. But he had questions.
Wasn't he the one who said hate derives passion? The passion he was so proud of? But now? He doesn't hold any grudge against Adrita, his supposed competitor.
So now what?
*****
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Third person's POV
***
A black Mercedes blazes past the 15-year-old Anirudh. His fingers tighten their grasp on the bag's strap as he stares at the luxurious car till he loses its sight.
"Hmm come on kiddo, our Mercedes is waiting for us." Anirudh's classmate mutter as he drags a reluctant Anirudh towards the crowded bus.
***
20-year-old Anirudh smirks at his opponent as he paces his way toward the stage to collect his prize money. Rahul Mehra was senior by a year and he had been the unbeatable champion of the debate club but today he was beaten up by a guy who had his eyes on Mehra since the very first day.
****
Grandma notices the tensed lines on her grandson's forehead as the latter was busy typing with his right hand, his left hand grasping the rolled chapati.
He mumbles something incoherent and furiously clicks on the delete button. Shaking his head he goes back to typing, the rolled chapati still in his hand but from what it seemed like not a single bite has been taken since she entered the living room.
"Want to talk?" Grandma asks as she scans the scattered pen, pencil, and papers on the dining table.
"Nothing much. Just work troubles." Anirudh mumbles, his eyes still focused on the laptop screen.
With a smile, Grandma pats her grandson's hair and asserts, "Fine, but eat your chapati! And sleep on time!"
"Hmm"
Grandma was about to leave when Anirudh adds in an urgent and hesitant voice, "Grandma, what happens when your always handy strategy doesn't make you happy anymore?"
"You let it go. Maybe, you find something else to look forward to?"
******
Hate derives passion. True.
But love? What's more passionate than love?
Hate makes you happy when others lose, and love? Love makes you happy when you or your loved ones win in the truest sense.
You don't need to hate others to accomplish your dreams, you just need to love yourself and your dreams enough.
*****
Author's note:
So the last part might be a little too sweet for my liking. What do you guys think?ð