Changing Shades 6

Manish!!!

Mansi broke off from Aditya with a muffled cry. He let her go and she stumbled away from him.

“No,” she said, and then more strongly, “No!”

He came after her.

“I'm not mistaken, Mansi. I was not mistaken. You don't love him,” he said, and there was victory in his voice. “You love me, not Manish. Admit it. You can't marry him, Mansi. You're mine, and you always will be.”

“Adi, no!” she cried. “Don't talk like this! Don't do this! I don't love you! I'm getting engaged to Manish the day after tomorrow. I have to marry him.”

He stared at her disbelieving. “You can't do that,” he said. “You love me. I always thought you did. I know it now.”

"No, I don't. I cannot do this, Aditya. Please, don't make me do anything I might regret. I cannot leave Manish now.”

“Tell me that you love me,” he said.

Mansi looked at him helplessly. “Don't, Adi. I can't. I don't love you. I can't love you.”

“Then why did you kiss me like that?” he demanded.

“You kissed me,” she said.

“I didn't notice you fighting me,” he retorted, and she was quiet. She looked at him pleadingly. “Please,” she said, “can you forget this ever happened? This whole conversation, this …”

“This kiss?” he said. “No, Mansi, I'm sorry, I can't pretend this never happened. I always knew you didn't love Manish. You and I … we're meant to be together. You're mine, not his. You love me. Your kiss said it all.”

“I don't love you,” she exclaimed. “You took me by surprise. I don't love you and I can't marry you. I have to marry Manish.”

He pounced on her. “Have to? Why do you have to?”

“Please!!!” she exploded. “Just leave me alone. Isn't it enough that I have to … do you think it's easy for me to do what everybody tells me to do, and expects me to do, without you putting doubts and fears into my mind. When I wanted you, needed you, you had gone to fix your own engagement! Now you tell me that you love me! Why do you think I agreed to marry Manish? Because you let me down when I needed you! I thought you would clear things up for me, and you just disappeared. Now I've made my decision, now please, just leave me alone, Adi!”

“I did not go to get engaged," he replied strongly. "I'm not the one with a ring on my finger. I don't know what stories Sunny and the others made up, and I'm not responsible for them. If you believed in me so much, in our closeness, didn't you stop to think I would tell you rather than any of the others if I was going to make such an important decision? I went because my grandfather was sick, and I told him the name of the girl whom I wanted to marry. That girl was you. It has always been you."

She turned on him.

"Oh, so you told him! How about telling me? Or did you just take it for granted that I would fall at your feet in eternal gratitude, that you were stooping so low as to want to marry me? Yes, I'm poor, I'm not from the same status family as you, so I should fall at your feet and accept anything you care to give me? What is the difference between Manish and you? He also takes me for granted, so do you!"

"You are making things up!" he retorted furiously. "Why are you twisting my words around? I felt nothing of the sort."

"You did," she said. "I had such pride in our friendship…"

"It's not friendship on my part," he said, bleakly. "It was love. But you don't seem to want it, don't seem to need it. You're more concerned with your pride. As for not telling you that I loved you, I thought my actions spoke louder. I'm sorry if I was mistaken. It's obvious that I was wrong in my estimation of our closeness, our ability to read each other's hearts. I thought I read yours, but I was wrong … and you … you didn't even try to read mine."

She turned back to him, stunned.

"Adi…"

"No," he said, still in the same bleak, even tone. "Go to Manish, Mansi. I'm sorry I made such a big mistake. I thought I had found my soul mate, a girl with fire in her, with the courage of her convictions. But I was mistaken. Go marry him. Run rings around him and his parents. You'll prefer that to the life I can give you. I'm not such a big man as he is, that's the problem."

He turned away, and stared over the hills.

She turned and went.

She did not see him again.

She went to Manish, told him that she had a headache and would he take her home. Startled and worried, he obliged.

The next day, she stayed at home. Yes, Aditya had cleared things up for her in her mind. She knew she did not love Manish, not in the way a girl loves the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with. The problem was, that by clearing things up, and forcing her to realize her own feelings, he had only made things worse.

She touched her lips, felt again the feel of his lips, heard the emotion in his voice, and felt her own response.

"I do love him," she thought, with a sense of wonder. "I do! I never realized it till now – what a fool I've been! That's why I was so angry and upset when I heard he was getting engaged, that's why I felt so let down, and depressed. And that's why the world moved when he touched me, when he kissed me. I love Adi!"

But what about Manish? What about her engagement? What about Manish's parents, who had done more for her than her own parents? How could she let them down?

"I can't go through with this," she thought. "I don't love Manish. It's Aditya. It's always been Aditya. And now I know he loves me too. I can't marry Manish."

You cannot let down your uncle, and Manish's parents now, a voice inside her answered back. Everything is ready and set. The engagement is tomorrow. Manish loves you. You have said yes to him. How can you turn around at the last minute and say you love somebody else?

And his parents? After all they have done for you, you cannot let them down. Your life is not only your own. Your happiness is not the most important thing in the world. These people have given you more than life. It's the duty of parents to look after and care for their children, but these people? They are not related to you in the slightest. In fact your father was their servant. And the way they have looked after you, even your own parents could not have done as much. You cannot let them down. Their happiness, their wishes are more important than your own. If you have to give your life for them, it is not enough, after all they have done for you. And what are they asking of you? They are not asking you to give any sacrifices. The reverse, they are welcoming you into their house and making it yours.

But they love you for yourself, a little voice inside her argued back. They love you like a daughter. Surely, if you tell them that you love somebody else, that you don't want to marry Manish, they will listen to you?

Mansi paced up and down in her room, fighting with herself. Then she came to a decision. She quickly and quietly slipped out of the house, and made her way up the hill to Manish's house.

When she returned half an hour later, she was pale, her hands shaking. She came back into her room, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her decision was made – it had been made for her. She knew that she could not make any other, even if it meant a lifetime of regret.

The day after was the engagement. With deep foreboding, she got ready for the ceremony, half afraid that Aditya would say something during the proceedings.

He never came.

All through the ceremony and the tea afterwards, she kept waiting for him, her heart in her mouth. When Manish slid his ring onto her finger, she almost screamed that she did not want it, she wanted Aditya's ring. But she kept quiet, and put her own band onto his finger, her hand trembling. She heard their other friends talking, wondering as to his absence. Nobody, it seemed, had heard from him.

A few days later, Manish told her he had got a letter from Aditya, postmarked Bombay. Aditya had had to fly there suddenly, due to his grandfather's ill health.

“It all happened very suddenly,” Manish read to Mansi. “Sorry could not even inform you before I left. I had to take the first flight out. Fortunately, Grand dad is recovering now, but I have to stay on here and take over the firm much earlier than I thought I would. Am going abroad for a while too, so I will see you after a few months.”

“A few months!” Manish exploded. “He won't even be there at our wedding. That bloody idiot! Calls himself my best friend! Wait till I see him!”

Mansi didn't know if Manish ever saw him again. She knew that she definitely had not, not until this afternoon, when he had walked into the office, and his eyes had bored into her soul, just as they had done at their last meeting.

What am I going to do, she thought. Dear God, what am I going to do?

Changing Shades 5

“Manish!”

He looked at her, saw her face fall, and his own was puzzled. “Hi, can I come in?”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

She stepped aside, suddenly shy. This was the man she had just agreed to marry. She had known him all her life, as a boy in short pants, then as an awkward adolescent, and now as a self-confident young man, and suddenly she was shy of him!

“Mansi?” then again, when she did not answer,

“Mansi?”

“What?”
He looked at her face. “Hey, what's wrong? You did say yes, didn't you?”

That made her laugh in spite of herself, and he relaxed.

“Phew! For a moment there, you had me worried, Mansi! Mansi,” suddenly he was close to her, very close, “Mansi, you do love me, don't you? You know I'm mad about you, always have been.”

“Now that's a lie,” she accused, laughing, stepping away from him. “You have definitely not been always in love with me. Not when we were kids and I used to swing on the swing in your house. You used to push me off. Then when I ate all your chocolates, and your mom said they were anyway for me, you wanted to kill me with your air gun. Then, when…”

“Stop, stop!” he laughed. “We were kids then. Now,” he was close to her again, and his eyes glittered strangely. “Now we're not kids any more. I've been in love with you since you came to college, and started tussling with Aditya for top place. I used to feel so proud every time you got the better of him, every time someone said you were the best looking, the smartest, in the college. The best girl in the college and you're mine. You always have been, and now you always will be.”

He held her close, his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She twisted a little, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

“Uncle will come …”

“No, he won't,” he murmured. “I left him with mom and dad, having tea. It's difficult to decide who was the most pleased among that lot! So you can stop feeling shy and come close.”

He pulled her again and she gave up and stood unresisting in his arms.

That seemed to be the way she was the next ten days. Unresisting. Everything happened around her, and it was like a dream, as though it was happening to somebody else. New clothes arrived, the house was painted, decorated, all their friends were told, and they declared they had known it all along, everything was in a bustle, and time seemed to fly till it was just two days before the engagement.

Then Aditya came back.

She had stopped resisting, stopped questioning what was happening. The small spark of restlessness, of rebellion she had told Aditya about, seemed to have died with his going, and with the knowledge that he, too, was getting engaged. Why that should be so, she refused to think about. Her own fate seemed so certain, her life so completely mapped that she stopped thinking about it, much less questioning it. After they graduated, she and Manish would get married. She would join the firm of architects in which her uncle worked as a low level manager, the firm owned and run by Manish's parents, and which he would one day take over. And maybe, she thought, once she got married and fulfilled the dearest wish of Manish's mother, and started working with Manish and his father, she could pay off the enormous debt of gratitude she and her uncle owed Manish's parents. And his parents had been delighted. While not admitting it to the world, they were quietly disappointed that their son showed no trace of the genius of his father, and were delighted to find that talent in Mansi, whom they looked after like a favourite niece. When Manish declared his interest in her to his parents, they overwhelmed Mansi with their joy in the forthcoming union. Mansi was swamped by their happiness. She did not even stop to think if she had indeed found her own happiness, her own partner in life. And even if she had, the thought of disappointing them and Manish could not arise, regardless of her own wishes or dreams. Their dreams had to be given priority over hers, their happiness over her own.

Then Aditya came back, and got the news of the engagement. He did not say anything when he was first told. He congratulated her and Manish quietly, and shrugged off the boisterous questions about his own engagement. They all decided to take the day off when he came back and went out for a picnic, all of them teasing her and Manish about the curfews that were shortly to be clamped on their meetings. All except Aditya. He was silent most of the time, not joining in the banter actively, but looking at Mansi often. And when they all went strolling over the hills, she found herself strolling away from the others with him.

Mansi was restless. The state of unresisting acceptance seemed to have vanished the moment Aditya got back and she saw the look of incredulity in his eyes when he was given the news. Strangely, she seemed to owe him some explanation. Besides, she needed to talk to him, to share some of the feelings which were disturbing her so much. She had clamped down firmly on them and put them away, but the moment she saw Aditya, they all came tumbling to the forefront. She tried not to think too deeply why this was so. Aditya was her friend, her best friend, and he was the one she always needed to talk to, she could talk to. But, surprisingly, although she had been waiting to see him, when the time came, she found herself tongue-tied, unable to bring up the subject. Till he brought it up himself.

“Mansi?”

“Mmmm?”

“Are you happy?”

She looked at him, not really surprised that he should be the one to ask this. She thought for a bit, her eyes on his face almost absently.

“You know, you're the first person to have asked me this,” she said. ‘Everybody seems to have taken it for granted that I should be absolutely delighted.”

“Should you be? Why?”

She smiled a little bitterly. “It's obvious, isn't it? Poor little girl makes it good. Marries the son of her father's boss. My life's made. I'll be rich, have a young good-looking husband, a beautiful big house, cars, servants, inlaws who dote on me, and the icing on the cake – my own company to run. Everything a girl could possibly want. Why should I be unhappy?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Why are you unhappy?”

“I'm not unhappy,” she said, fiercely.

“Then why do you look so restless?”

“Oh, I think it's everything combined. The exams were tough, the engagement is so soon after, that I haven't had time to prepare myself…”

“Prepare yourself to marry the boy you love?” he asked, cynically. “I shouldn't have thought that needed much preparation. Especially with all the icing on the cake to sweeten the love.”

She looked at him, surprised at his tone, his cynical comment barely hiding his simmering anger.

“What are you implying, Adi? Do you also think I'm marrying Manish because of what he can give me?”

“Are you marrying him because you love him?” he countered.

She stopped short.

“I don't know if I love him,” she muttered, half to herself. If I love him, why do your reactions, your feelings make such a difference to me? Why am I so disappointed, so let-down, with your response? But she didn't voice her thoughts.

“Why don't you know?” he persisted. “Haven't you known him long enough?”

She smiled slightly.

“Maybe that's the trouble. I've known him too long. He's always been around in my life, sometimes on the fringes, sometimes, as in these last few years, very much a part of my everyday life. He's there. Do I love him? I don't know. He's just there. I think I'd miss him if he wasn't, but is that all there is to love?”

“I think,” said Aditya deliberately, “that you don’t know him well enough.”

Mansi stared at him.

“What do you mean, Aditya? I've known him almost all my life. My father used to work for Uncle before he died, remember? I’ve known him since we were both seven!”

“I said you don’t know him well enough, Mansi,” said Aditya. “Not ‘not long’ enough. I don't think you know Manish at all. Yes, you've known him all your life. You've known him as a child. In college, you've known him as part of a group, as a friend among other friends. Have you been especially close to him, rather than any of the others? I don't think so. You have never known him alone, what kind of person he is, what kind of man he is, whether he is the one you love, or can love as a husband, as a life partner. That's different from being friends. You need to get to know him on his own, apart from the group.”

“I have, in the last two weeks,” she said quietly. He stopped, and looked at her.

“Then, if you've made up your mind, why these doubts? What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know,” Mansi said, unhappily. “I don’t know why these doubts. Why am I feeling this way? Tell me, Adi. You’ve always been able to help me when I needed you. I needed you when his parents came with the proposal. I came to your hostel to talk to you. But you had gone to Bombay to get engaged, and that was like a slap on my face. I felt your absence was telling me that this was one decision I had to make on my own. So I did. But I still need you to tell me that I've made the right decision.”

“I can't tell you that, Mansi,” he said. “You're right – this is one choice I can't help you with. Your heart has to tell you. I can only tell you what I still believe. You don't know Manish well enough, oh, despite all the time you have spent with him. And you definitely don't love him, not the way a girl loves her husband-to-be. I mean, you think of him as part of the furniture, for heaven's sake. Used to him! Might miss him if he's not around! Are you marrying a man you love, or acquiring a pet dog?”

Mansi smiled uncertainly. “Be serious, Aditya, please.”

Aditya stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I'm not being funny, Mansi.” He spoke forcefully and urgently, and she stared at him, bewildered by his sudden change in tone. “I am not being funny in the least, You are not in love with Manish. You love and respect his parents, the wonderful people who gave you help and support when you needed it, and you are grateful to them. But gratitude is not the correct foundation on which to build your life, Mansi. You are repaying their gratitude by doing well at college, by working with them – do you have to sign over your life to them as well?”

“I'm not signing over my life to them,” said Mansi hotly. “In fact, they are giving me a home, a family, a place and a chance to work, no questions asked, after all that they have already done for me. And I do care for Manish.”

“They are not doing you a favour by giving you a job,” said Aditya forcefully. “Uncle is an extremely intelligent person, and he knows that Manish cannot take over the firm, not now, not ever. He just does not have the capability, the vision, the drive. You do. The fact that you are ready to marry their son is a bonus. They need you, not the other way around, make no mistake. And by your marrying Manish, they all will be happily able to disguise his incompetence with your talent. Oh, yes, they need you, and they are doing this so cleverly, making it look the other way around, that it is them who are doing you this big favour.”

“Don't talk like this, Aditya,” cried Mansi “What's gotten into you? I thought you were Manish's friend! You talk as though you hate them!”

He clenched his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s gotten into me?” retorted Aditya savagely. “Do you really not know what’s gotten into me, Mansi? I’m looking for that girl I saw in you, but that girl seems to have vanished! The girl who had a spark in her … that fire, that spirit! Where has she gone? Manish and his parents are walking roughshod over you, and you’re letting them take over your life – and I'm asking, why?! Uncle and Aunty want you to marry Manish, he wants to marry you, so you agreed. What about what you want? What happened to that resistance, that dissatisfaction in you, that feeling of being pushed into doing something you didn't really want to do? Do you really want to marry him, or is it only that you are so bowed down by gratitude, that you cannot think of refusing Manish, because he happens to be their precious son? Think about it, Mansi. Don't throw yourself away, don't take this step when you don’t love him.”

“I know him, he is a good friend, and I will learn to love him in time,” said Mansi, numbly, but she spoke as though she was trying to convince herself.

Aditya’s hands gentled on her shoulders. His face, his tone was calmer now.

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him agonizingly.

“Don't ask me these questions now, Aditya. Our engagement is two days away.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you these questions if you had not said that you didn't know if you were happy or not,” he replied, and she replied sharply.

“You're putting words into my mouth. I didn't say that.”

“What did you say, then, Mansi?”

“I said…,” she stopped.

He sighed and looked away from her. Then he let go her shoulders and turned away from her.

“What do you actually want, Mansi? Do you really know? Do you understand yourself, your own feelings? I thought I knew you, but do you know yourself? First you tell me that you’re marrying him, that you think you know him, that you’ll be happy with him. And now you say you’re not sure you’re happy. What do you feel Mansi? Dil se? tell me the truth – more than that, tell yourself the truth! I thought you felt the same way …”

“What way?” she asked sharply. He turned back to her and there was a strange look in his eyes.

“You know – when I heard - I felt angry that you were throwing yourself away on Manish. I felt that he didn't deserve you, that he doesn't love you, that he is marrying you only to please his parents. But I kept quiet because I thought I was mistaken in what I saw, I wanted to see something that wasn't there. I thought it was me that was mistaking friendship for something more. You would not be marrying Manish unless you were sure of your feelings for him. But today you said that you have your doubts too – Mansi, if you have doubts, don't do it. Back away now. You deserve more than…”

He broke off, and grasped her by the shoulders. For long moments, he looked at her and she stared back at him. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, as they burned into hers.

Mansi couldn't move. His hands held her gently, she could have moved away any time she wanted, but she seemed to be held immobile by the sheer force of his look. She did not know when his hands left her shoulders to move gently up and cup her face, his thumbs moving over her lips, tracing their outline, caressing them, touching them. And then his head bent, and he pulled her into his arms fiercely, and his lips touched hers for the first time.

They touched and lifted, then came down strongly, taking her mouth in a kiss deep and long, a kiss that seemed to go on and on, that seemed to draw her soul from her. His hands left her face to go around her, and her hands went up into his hair to hold his face down to hers, to deepen and lengthen the kiss. She was not merely unresisting, she was responding. She had never felt this way with Manish ….

Changing Shades IV

But slowly, over the two years, it became evident that Manish had eyes only for his childhood friend. He spent more time with her than ever before. He still did not attend classes. That privilege belonged to Aditya and Mansi, and to them alone. But he visited her home frequently - to pick up notes, he said, and when they went out, he stayed glued to her side.

Mansi wasn't sure of her feelings. To begin with, it meant that she spent less time with Aditya, and she enjoyed his company tremendously. Then she felt she was being pushed towards something she was not ready for. She wanted to discuss it with Aditya, but surprisingly, this was one topic she felt shy about bringing up. So she just let things carry on, a little uncomfortable with Manish's attentions, but lacking the courage to bring things to a head.

Then things came to a head without her knowledge. Shortly before their final exams, Manish's parents visited Mansi's uncle

And when she came back from college that day, she found him bustling about in great good humor.
“What's happened, chacha?” she asked, as she went into the kitchen to get their tea. “Today you seem to be very happy.”

“Yes, today I can see the end of my responsibility,” answered her uncle.

She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean, chacha?”

“Manish's parents came today,” he informed her happily. “They wanted to settle the dates of your engagement and marriage. We have decided for two weeks from now for the engagement, that will be just after your exams, and your marriage will have to be the week after that. Now I have a lot of work to do. Two weeks is not too long…”

“Chacha, wait a minute,” interrupted Mansi, suddenly very pale. “This is my marriage you are talking about? How come I wasn't even asked if I want to marry him?”

Her uncle looked at her in surprise. “Asked? We thought both of you wanted it! That's what Manish said! He's been in love with you for years, and you are so close to him, too. Always at home, it's Manish said this, Manish did that…”

“Yes, but I talk about all my friends,” interrupted Mansi, again. “That doesn't mean I want to marry them. Chacha, I don't want to get married right now. We are already so much in debt to them, what will people say? They have given us everything, now I walk into their house and become mistress there? Hum chhote log hain, I can't do this.”

“Hum chhote log hain, that is why you will do this,” retorted back her uncle. “They have given us everything, and do you know why? Because they have wanted this match from the beginning. They had discussed this with your parents before they died. That is why they asked me to stay here with you, so that your father's dreams of your becoming an architect could be fulfilled, and their dreams of making you their son's bride could also come true.”

“That's not true,” said Mansi, shaken. “Papa and Ma would have talked to me about it before saying anything to uncle and auntie. They may want it, but pa and ma would have said something to me.”

“That is what they wanted, child,” replied her uncle more kindly. “Maybe they did not talk about this with you. After all, you were very young then. But Mrs. Dewan has always thought of you as her daughter, and she wants you in that house. She has never made any secret of the fact. And after all, what is wrong? You have studied with him. You know him well. It is not as if I am forcing you to marry someone you don't know or don't like.”

He took her hands and pulled her to sit down with him.

“Look, my child,” he said heavily. “What you said is true. We are small people, and we have a debt of gratitude to pay these people which we can never repay in a thousand years. What they did for your parents, and then for you, you already know. What you don't know, is that that they have always given me more money than I actually should earn, on the condition that it is spent all on you. Your clothes, the college trips you took, everything was from them. We have never felt a day's difficulty, they have taken care of it all. Why do you think they were so keen for you to attend the same college, have the same friends, be part of the same group, as Manish? This was in Madam's and Sir’s minds all along. Even this house we live in, is theirs, which they have given us free. I didn't want to tell you this, but they always discouraged me from setting up my own house, from marrying anybody, so that they could keep control of you. They are big people, powerful people, and they have done all this only because Madam loves you. Now we cannot say no to them. And after all, child, like I said, you know Manish, and like him. He is a friend. A friend can always become a love. That is why I said yes straightaway. They will love you and you will have a good life there.”

Mansi could not say anything. Aditya’s words, spoken not so long ago, came back to her. “The tyranny of love,” he had said. She smiled bitterly. So true. You could argue with somebody who tried to push you around, who rode roughshod over your feelings, who shouted at you. This gentleness, this kindness was impossible to fight.

The next day was Saturday. After a restless night, she woke up feeling heavy eyed and unrefreshed. She picked at her breakfast listlessly, unable to concentrate or think about anything. After breakfast, she picked up her bag, and went out.

“Where are you going?” called out her uncle.

“I'm going to the hostel to pick up some notes,” she called back. She needed to see Aditya. Maybe his commonsense would put things back into perspective for her.

She walked down quickly to the men's hostel, and went to Aditya's room. They all gathered here very often. She was surprised, but relieved to find none of their group around. Usually, this close to the exams, one or the other of them would be closeted with Aditya, trying to absorb half a year's lectures in half an hour!

She knocked at the door sharply. There was no answer. She knocked again.

“He's not there,” called a voice from down the corridor. It was one of the junior students. “I'm glad you came. He left a message for you. He had to rush to Bombay, his grandfather was not well. Said for you to take notes for him, he'd be back in a week. Left a message for Manish, too, can I give it to you?”

“No,” she exclaimed, and then, again, more quietly. “I don't know when I'll see Manish. He'll probably come here sooner. Tell him yourself.”

“OK,” nodded the boy, and returned to his room.

Mansi left the hostel in despair. A week! The engagement , if it took place, was two weeks away. What if he got delayed? He often did, when he went to Bombay. This meant he would be back just in time for the exams, and her engagement would be very close ... too close.

She bumped into Priya and Sunny outside. “Hi,” said Priya “Come to find Aditya? He's gone to Bombay.”

“Yes, I just got the message,” nodded Mansi, trying hard to sound calm and casual. “Blow, I needed the last set of drawings from him. I'll have to manage on my own now. Have you guys done them?”

Sunny laughed. “We're waiting for one of you to finish them. Hurry up and do them, Mansi, the exam's not too far away. And Aditya's gone for a long spell this time. Neil said his grand dad is determined to make him a final choice of the beauties this time. He won't be allowed to come back till he's hitched up good and proper!”

Mansi and Priya looked at Sunny. “Aditya? Getting engaged?” asked Priya in surprise. “He never mentioned it to any of us. Did he say anything to you, Mansi?”

Mansi shook her head dumbly. Sunny laughed. “These are guys' matters, you girls can't expect to know everything, you know. I'll bet you won't tell us when you're getting hitched, except to invite us to the party! Aditya said the last time he went to Bombay, the old man was determined to make him settle down. He must have seen twenty girls last trip. Now he has to decide.”

Mansi supposed she must have made the right noises, laughed at the right things. She didn't remember any of it. She said her byes, and came back home in a state of shock. How could Aditya not have told her? He called himself her friend. How could he do this? How could he think of getting married, and not tell her?

“Got your notes, Mansi?” asked her uncle, and she looked at him. He had looked after her like a father, and he was very, very fond of her. He was trying to do the best thing for her. And he was right. She did know Manish well. She could make a life with him. His parents loved her. Life would be comfortable, she would have her precious work in the family firm, and it would all be smooth sailing.

“Yes, chacha, I did,” she said. “And, chacha…”

He looked at her as she hesitated.

“What, my child?”

“Chacha, you're quite right. About what you said yesterday, I mean. I just got a bit rattled – I'd never really thought about Manish like that. But you are right – I know him and his parents very well. If they are keen on the proposal, it's all right with me.”

Her uncle looked at her and beamed, his relief evident. He crossed over to her and took her into his arms. “I'm delighted, my child. You have made me very happy. When I die and go up to meet your parents, I will be able to look them in the face and tell them that I discharged all my responsibilities in the best possible way. You will be happy there, my dear child. They all love you very much and will take good care of you. Mr Dewan was saying that he is already organizing two new offices, for you and Manish. Your father's dream will come true, my child. Though he would not have dreamed that you start work there as the mistress! Your parents would have been so happy to see this day!”

Tears came into the older man's eyes, and he wiped them away and released her.

“I will go at once to Sir's house and tell them that you have said yes,” he said. “They must have been expecting me yesterday itself, but I did not want to go till I had heard from your lips that you agreed to the proposal. I will go right away.”

He quickly straightened his clothes, tidied himself and left, leaving Mansi alone in the house. She went to the window and stared out unseeing. What have I done, she thought? Have I done the right thing? Damn you, Aditya, you said you were my friend, you would be here for me all the time. When the time came to make the most important decision of my life, you are nowhere around, and I learn from someone else, not from you, that you are in the process of making that decision for yourself. Without telling me? How could you, Aditya? How could you?

There was a knock on the door, and she turned round in surprise. Who could it be? Aditya? Her footsteps quickened and she ran to open the door.

Changing Shades III

They had all laughed, and from then on, Mansi had been a part of their group. They had taken her, first to the principal's office, and then to the canteen, which was where, she gathered, they spent most of their time. Up until then, she was told, the missing Aditya had been the source of the few marks they all did manage to get in the exams. Now she would have to contribute to the kitty!

“Who is Aditya, and where is he?” she asked, curiously.

“Oh, he's away in Bombay. His grandfather has a construction company, his parents are dead, and Aditya has to take care of him, and the work. He'll probably come in next week. He knows he has to take over from his grandfather fairly soon, so he's a very serious man, is our Aditya. You'll get on well with him – he's the only one of us who actually listens to the lectures! Apart from you, that is!”

She did get on well with Aditya. Almost from the beginning, and that surprised her, because she was usually far more reserved in making friends. He came about a week later, and immediately it became clear who was the leader of the group. He was a natural leader, not as serious as the rest had made him out to be, but with a strong sense of fun. He was the one who thought of all their pranks, but besides, he was always at the top of their class. As Manish had said, he was the only one of their group who attended all the classes, the others spending most if their time in the canteen, and attending only the minimum necessary. As Mansi, too, attended most of the classes, this meant that they both spent a lot of time together, and the others shamelessly copied their notes, and drawings.

She grew to like Aditya, she found him very easy and somehow comfortable to be with, and slowly started talking to him far more than she did to Manish, or indeed to anyone else. He was so easy to talk to that she never realized how skillfully he drew her out of her shell and encouraged her to share her thoughts with him. With him, she let her guard down and let long suppressed feelings show through. She didn't even realize how much she revealed to him, so easily did he draw her out.

They were working together one day on a model, when she told him about her parents and Manish's family.

“My father worked for Manish's father,” she told him, her eyes soft as she remembered the gentle man who had meant the world to her. “He was just his secretary, but he was close to Uncle, and Uncle trusted him completely. One day, when I was about 7 years old, Papa told Uncle about me, and his dreams that I should, one day, become an architect like him. Uncle was very flattered and impressed that I had such plans at such a young age, while his own son, Manish never thought beyond the next present he was going to get! So he started taking a lot of interest in me, my studies, what I was doing … all that. Manish's mother couldn't have any children after Manish, and she was very, very keen to have a daughter. She also virtually adopted me. I used to spend a lot of time in their house. Manish was just a kid in short pants when I first knew him. He used to have a tough time, because I was always top of my class, even in school, and he was always at the bottom. His parents would be after him all the time – Mansi is so smart, she works so hard, you are a duffer… I think if I'd been Manish, I would have hated me! He did, initially, I think, he hated the constant comparisons, but then we grew together, and he grew used to it. We played together quite a bit. He was an only child, so was I, and I loved going over to the big house with all the swings and the pool, and lots of goodies to eat.”

“Then what happened?” asked Aditya, as Mansi paused, lost in thought.

“Then my parents died in an accident. That shattered my world. I was about 14 years old then, and already I was very determined as to what I wanted to be. But losing them just broke me up. My father was so proud of me – he always said that he would show the world that a daughter is not just as good as, but far better than a son. When I lost them, I felt I lost my own confidence in myself, my secure, safe world just came crashing down. We didn't have any money, I was virtually on the streets. Manish's parents wanted to adopt me. But my uncle, my father's brother, refused. He was unmarried, and I was his only relative left in the world. He wanted to take me back to our village. Manish's parents didn't want me to go, so they gave him my father's job, and the house. I continued living there and going to the same school. I've often wondered whether chacha refused to let go of me because he knew that was what they would do, or because he genuinely cared for me.”

“Why do you feel that?” asked Aditya, curiously, carefully glueing two small pieces of wood together, putting them into place on the model and stepping back to see the effect.

“Well, he never visited us before, when my parents were alive. I only knew I had an uncle because he wrote occasionally. I had met him just once a couple of years before my parents died. Anyway, I suppose I'm being a bit unfair, because he certainly took, and still does take good care of me.”

“What happened was, that after your parents died, and left you alone, you were scared to trust, or be close to anyone again, for fear they would leave you too,” remarked Aditya, perceptively. Mansi looked at him in surprise.

“How do you know, Aditya? Yes, that's exactly what has happened. I don't want to get close to anyone – I'm scared I'll be left alone again. It just hurts too much.”

“I know because the same thing happened to me, too,” said Aditya. “And I was much younger when I lost my parents, only six years old. I hardly remember them. Only, I was luckier than you were. I was already living with my grandparents when my parents died, so there was no major upheaval for me. I continued in the same house, with at least some of the same people, and never had to depend on somebody who was a total stranger. So I didn't lose my sense of security, as you did. Though losing your parents is the worst loss, since I was younger, I don't remember them so clearly, and my grandparents have always been there for me. In fact, they used to look after me as my parents were both working, so they were closer to me than mom and dad were.”

“You are lucky, then,” said Mansi quietly. Aditya looked at her.

“Not to have any memories? I don’t think so, Mansi.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and she looked back, lost in the intensity of his gaze. Then her eyes dropped.

“No,” she agreed, in a small voice. “No … you’re right, Adi. I’m glad I have the memories at least. I’m sorry.”

He smiled and touched her cheek with a gentle finger.

“But, Mansi, memories aren’t enough, you know. I know it hurts to lose those you love, but that doesn’t mean you can shut yourself away and not get close to anyone again. You can't go through life like that. You can't lock yourself up in a little ivory tower, and say, I have no friends, because I'm scared of losing them. Life doesn't work like that, Mansi. You have to take the risk of getting close to people, because it's people who make up the world. You want to make yourself a little house, with your own things, and say to yourself, this is mine, I can never lose it, but till you have people in that house of yours, it won't be a home. You won't have a world of your own, only things, which become meaningless after some time, if there is no one to share them with.”

“It's not just that, Aditya,” said Mansi, hesitating. He looked at her.

“What is it, then?”

“I don't know. I've never said this to anyone before, and I don't know if I can make you understand.”

“Try me,” he said quietly. She looked up into his reassuring face, and took a deep breath.

“When my parents were alive,” she said softly, “My dreams were our dreams. What I wanted to do in life was something we all talked about together, discussed, fought about also, …” she laughed softly, but continued strongly, “… tore to shreds together, but did it together. I was never just told what to do. My opinion was important. My feelings mattered. Not only mattered, they were of the utmost importance. I was never just ordered around, like other children, or taken for granted. Even when we used to talk about marriage, my father used to say, I'll find her a prince, and my mother used to correct him, you won’t find, Mansi will find. Mansi has to marry someone she loves. She will never do anything she doesn't want to do. And then my father would agree, and tease me – child, you'll let us know when you find somebody, won't you? But since they died, and Manish's parents and my uncle took over my life, it has been just that. They have taken over. What I want is not important any more. They tell me what to do and I am to do it. Oh, it's all done lovingly from uncle and auntie, and no outward sense of being forced. And they are wonderful people. They have done a lot for me, and I genuinely admire them tremendously. But they always get their way. And my uncle is so crushed with gratitude towards them, that if ever I think of going against what they say, he looks at me with horror. Like, how can you even think of not doing what they ask. You owe them everything! I can't take my own decisions any more. It's as though I'm on a giant roller coaster, and I'm just going on and on, and I can't get off, no matter how much I try.”

“Are you unhappy about something specific?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered. “That's why it's difficult for myself to understand why I feel like this. I'm not doing anything I don't want to. But I just get the feeling I'm being pushed all the time! Tell me I'm crazy to feel like this!”

“The tyranny of love,” he said softly. “We come up against it all the time. I do understand, Mansi. I want to go abroad to study. But every time I mention the possibility, my grandparents start crying and getting all emotional. I know exactly how you feel, Mansi. And let me tell you one thing. It's far more difficult to fight tears and love than it is to fight hostility. You land up doing just what you don't want to do.”

She smiled, relieved that he understood - and he looked at her suddenly.

“Tell me, Mansi. You didn't want to come here, did you? To this college, I mean?”

She looked at him and laughed aloud. “You do understand!" she said. "No, I didn't. I felt…”

“Yes, I understand, and I know exactly how you felt,” he said forcefully. “Manish's father pulled some strings, did he?”

She nodded. “He knew I would not accept money from them to pay my fees, so he organized that I get the scholarship. And then of course, chacha was all over me – he has done so much for you, how can you refuse him, blah, blah, blah. So here I came. I don't belong here. All the kids are from rich families, they all have their own businesses to run when they finish from here, whereas I go job-hunting.”

“That, too, Manish's firm…” began Aditya, and Mansi interrupted him hotly.

“NO! I will not. I have to break away sometime! Don't you see, Aditya, I'm getting suffocated.”

“You have to decide that,” replied Aditya seriously. “But one thing, Mansi, about not belonging here. You know that’s not true. Most of the guys here will be happy to accept you on your own steam. Stop thinking of them as rich kids. Think of them as students, and you are better than quite a few. Offer to help them out if they want , and you will be surprised at how quickly they accept you. There's such a thing as being too sensitive, you know. Agreed, some of them have their noses in the air, but some are very nice. You know Manish doesn't think like that at all, neither do I. Well, there are more like us. Find them!”

Mansi laughed, her mood lightening. And she took his advice, and found to her surprise, that he was right. She did make very good friends, their genuine appreciation and liking winning her over. She was soon a part of their group, which included Manish, Aditya, Priya (who was quite likeable after her first remarks!) and three others, Sunny, Neil and Shreya. The seven of them stayed together through college, working together and (much more often) playing together.

Changing Shades II

Both girls looked up, Mansi's laughter dying away. She looked at Aditya, and he saw the expression on her face change from laughter, to incredulous recognition. The beginning of a smile started slowly, and was chased away almost immediately by the grimness on his face, and she knew that he had not forgotten, or forgiven … anything.

The 'old man' bustled forward cheerfully, oblivious to the tension between Aditya and Mansi. "Well, Aditya," he announced cheerfully, "this is my small office and my small staff. But don't let the size deceive you. As I told you, we have six projects currently on line, and the four of us manage them very well indeed. We also have about half a dozen more proposals, and like I said earlier, I am in the fortunate position of being able to choose what I want to do. This is Anjali, my secretary and personal assistant – she will work with you as well, unless you want to bring in your own secretary. She will continue to be mine, as she knows better than I do, where to find what in this place."

Anjali smiled at Aditya nervously, and he smiled back warmly, the charm of that smile banishing her nervousness.
“I'm sure I will find Anjali invaluable, Mr. Suri,” he said easily. “It will take me some time to find my feet in this place, and I will need her help.”

Anjali smiled again, this time more easily. “It would be a pleasure, Mr. Khanna,” she said. “I'll try my best to make you familiar with the place quickly.”

“Please, call me Aditya,” he said, looking into Anjali's eyes and Mansi could see Anjali melting. Mr. Suri, a stickler for correctness couldn't quite believe what was happening in his office – Anjali, or for that matter, any of the other staff, had never, ever called him by his name. They didn't even know what it was! He quickly took over the introductions again.

“This is Suresh, our clerical cum odd job man,” he said, and the young boy put out his hand nervously for the new boss to shake. This was Suresh's first job. He was a quiet, sincere boy, who did what he was asked to do, and a lot more. He had a widowed mother, and a young brother whom he was putting through school, and he worked like a horse, anxious to prove himself, both to his boss, and to his mother.

Aditya shook his hand firmly.
“Mr. Suri has told me about you,” he said, “all good things, I'm glad to say. I look forward to working with you.”

Suresh couldn't quite believe his ears. Work with the boss?! He worked for the big boss, and did what he was told to do. He made up his mind immediately that he was going to like this man, no matter what.

Mr. Suri then turned to Mansi.

“This is the only other architect I employ,” he said, beaming at her, “and believe me, she is …”

“Hello, Mansi,” interrupted Aditya. "It's good to see you again, after how many years is it? Four? Five?”

“Hello, Aditya,” Mansi answered evenly, well aware of the old man's open mouth, Anjali's popping eyes and Suresh's evident shock. “It's good to see you too.”

Aditya turned to Mr. Suri. “Mansi and I are old class mates from architecture school. Old friends … and rivals. It was always a toss up between us as to who would have the best designs. She got the best man all right, though, didn't you, Mansi? I'm surprised to see you working here, and not in the family firm. Too much nepotism, was it?”

Mansi bit her lip to keep from retorting back in kind. So this was how he was going to play it. Outwardly pleasant, but barbs all the way. She forced herself to reply pleasantly. “Something like that, I suppose. I like it here.”

Aditya gave her a long look, and then turned back to Mr. Suri. “Sir, I'm happy with your setup. I don't propose to make any changes as of now. I may bring in a few more people slowly, but we'll see how it goes first. With your approval, of course, as you will be here for some time to come.”

Mr. Suri beamed again. “Of course, of course. I'm so glad you know Mansi. You will be working with her very closely on some of the new projects. I'm too old for field work now, so she takes care of it. You will want to visit some of the sites with her. Good, good, that's very good, that you know her.”

Positively purring with delight, the old man led Aditya back into his office. He obviously had not picked up any part of the tension at all. They entered the inner domain, and the old man poked his head out to call Anjali.

“Anjali, organize a desk and chair for Aditya in here, will you. And another drafting desk outside for him – Mansi can manage that one, next to hers. He will need one for his own plans.”
“Right, sir,” replied Anjali, promptly. Then she looked at Mansi, who had been standing like stone since the two men left. She didn't say anything, but busied herself on the phone, getting the extra furniture organized.

“Suresh, go down to the warehouse, and pick up the stuff sir has asked for,” she directed him, and the boy left. Then Anjali looked at Mansi again, who had sat down and was apparently busying herself in some drafts.

“OK,” she said. “What gives?”

Mansi looked at her blankly, and for a moment, it seemed that she had not heard a word Anjali had said. Then she visibly pulled herself together. “Angel, what do you mean?”

Anjali laughed scornfully. “Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, sweetheart. What gives? What is between you and that extremely handsome hunk who is our new boss? The air between you two was so thick, you could cut it with a knife! Old college friends indeed! He's more than that, isn't he? Is he an old boyfriend, or what?”

Mansi gave a half smile that turned into a look of despair. “Almost,” she said and looked at Anjali directly. “You're not going to believe this – I turned him down.”

Anjali sat down with a thump.

“You're right,” she said briefly. “I don't – believe you, I mean. Turned down that hunk? For Manish? Were you whacko? And he’s still mad at you about that? Come on, Mansi. There's more to this than just that. Spill the beans.”

Mansi sighed.

“You're right,” she said. “There is. I will tell you, Anjali. Soon. But not right now. Just let me get my equilibrium back. Seeing him after so many years – it was a shock. I need to get over that one.”

“So get over it, and tell me,” commanded Anjali. “Come on, Mansi, I'm dying to know! What happened?”

Mansi looked at her pleadingly.

“Not today,” she said. “Please, Angel, give me time. This really has been a shock. It was …not pleasant, what happened.”

“That much I could tell,” retorted Anjali. “His eyes said a lot. OK, Mansi. Take your time. But you have to spill the beans. And soon.”

Mansi said nothing. She got back to her work – or tried to. Her mind was anywhere but on her drawings. All she could see was Aditya's face, looking at her, so close to her own, pleading with her, his lips almost touching hers, their breaths mingling…

I thought I’d forgotten, she thought despairingly, staring blindly at her drawing board. Oh god, I thought I’d managed to forget him, forget us. But I was just fooling myself. I haven’t forgotten anything. Nothing at all. Oh god, why did it have to be him?! Why did he come here, why did he choose this firm … out of all he could have chosen?! Why him … why me?!

She put her drawings aside with a jerk, and stood up. “I'm going to the site,” she told Anjali. “I'm not accomplishing much here. Be back in an hour, if the old man asks. Tell him I've gone to check …I don't know…oh, the drainage or something.”

“Right,” said Anjali quietly, and watched the other girl as she went out. Her brows knitted. It was not like Mansi to be so… distracted. Normally, she got down to her work with a vengeance, using it to forget about everything else, not to think about anything outside her drawings, her plans and her houses. The fact that she could not use her work to forget about Aditya Khanna meant that he meant a lot to her. More than even her husband? Anjali wondered, then gave up. Mansi would tell her when she was ready to, not before. She had not told Anjali about Manish for almost six months when she had first started work. It was as though she could not trust anyone with her pain, though her smiles she distributed freely.

In the meantime, Mansi drove down to the site where they were building a large block of flats. She had designed them almost completely, with very little input from the old man, and the sight of the building, her first major solo project, normally gave her a great deal of pleasure. But not today. The sight of Aditya Khanna had wiped away the pleasure, and brought back all the old memories, some of them pleasant, but most of them painful.

What lovely days they had been. They had all been in college together, she, Aditya, Manish and a whole group of friends, and they all had had a great time together. Initially she had hung back, conscious of being much less well off than the rest of them, all from similar upper crust colleges and schools, while she was there because she had won a scholarship to cover her tuition fees. But they had made her feel like one of them, had admired her because she was top of their class and she had very soon become a part of their group.

She still remembered her first day at college. She had entered rather nervously, looking for the principal's office, and had been obviously lost when Manish saw her and yelled out to her.
"Hey, there, stranger! Over here!"

Her eyes lit up on seeing a familiar face and she went over to the group of four, two girls and two boys. Aditya had not been there.

"Hi, Manish."

"Dad told me you would be in today," said Manish. “I was on the lookout for you. I've been given strict instructions to look after you. Hey, guys, this is Mansi. Our new class fellow and partner in the torture chamber. Though she may not find it as much torture as we do. She's here on a scholarship, so beware. She actually likes to work!”

“Scholarship?” asked one of the other girls disdainfully. “I didn't know that the Dayanand School of Architecture had any scholarships at all. We all paid for our seats, and paid a lot, too.”

Mansi flushed. She knew the college was an upper crust one, and the only reason she was able to afford it was that her tuition was taken care of by her scholarship. But she had not expected to find scorn among her fellow students for that reason. Fortunately, Manish saved her having to reply.

“Here, lemme explain, Priya,” he said kindly. “Although the big guns of architecture … like your dad and my dad ... have to pay for our seats so they can get someone to take over their great companies, and the college admin has to give us those seats so they can get the money to run this place, they need to turn out some real architects too, otherwise, money or no money, the place would shut down. I mean, either people have money and their kids have no brains, or they have no money and their kids have brains. God tends to even out the scores, to save the moneyed ones getting too swollen headed. I mean, just look at the one mistake he made by giving Aditya both! He can't afford to repeat it, so he balances the rest of us with people like Mansi. Mansi, I'm already booking first right to any notes you make. You know I don't attend too many lectures!”

Mansi smiled, and one of the boys piped up.

“Hey Manish, how do you know Mansi? You seem to know all the beautiful girls on campus, not fair, I say! And how do you know she's got brains as well?”
“Duffer,” said Manish, laughing. “Scholarship mili hai, to brains to honge hi na? As for how I know, well, I've known Mansi since she was 7 years old. She used to come over all the time, and I'd keep complaining to mom – Mansi's eating my chocolates, she's on my swing, and mom used to say – she's come first in class again. When you come first, or even do half as well as her, I'll listen to your complaints. Not before. That was it. And that was always it, because I never did as well as her!”

“So she's been like a sister around all the time, has she,” said Priya, and she looked at Mansi a little more kindly.

Manish pulled Mansi close, and very deliberately put his arm around her. Then he looked at Priya.

“Priya, do you think I'm mad? Since when have I started adopting beautiful girls as my sisters? Mansi is my friend. Very definitely, my friend.”

Changing Shades - I

Anjali came over to Mansi's desk. "Heard the news?"

Mansi looked up from her drawing board quickly. "What? He's coming?"

Anjali nodded. “Just heard from the old man.” This was the disrespectful way they referred to their old boss, the head of the small architect firm in which Anjali was secretary to the old man, and Mansi, a young architect on her first job. Being similar of age, they had fast become good friends. Anjali had been working in the firm since graduating from her secretarial course 2 years ago, the 'old man' being a friend of her father's, and Mansi had joined a year later, after her own problems began and she needed to stand on her feet. They enjoyed their work. The firm was small, the work pressure manageable, and the 'old man' a good and fair boss. They had a good amount of work, and as their boss was not too ambitious, the atmosphere was friendly and very comfortable. He did not compromise on quality, and as a result, the work they had was of a very high standard. But he was choosy, and never took on too many projects, although they had clients queuing outside his office, and this maintained the cosy, informal atmosphere of the place.

But there were changes on the way. The 'old man' had been told to slow down. His heart was giving way. He was unmarried, and had nobody to turn over the business to, nobody to delegate to. Mansi was the only other architect in the office. He had given her the job after his first attack of angina, the first time he had another architect in his domain. But she was too junior to take over the place completely, or to delegate everything to. Hence, he had announced, about a month ago, that he had asked another architect, the head of a small but upcoming firm in Bombay, to visit on a regular basis, with a view to taking over the firm eventually. This other man was young, but headed a very successful firm of his own, and was interested in expanding his own business. The 'old man' stressed to Mansi that she would not be sacked – that was a precondition. Now the new man – 'young prince' or ‘rajkumar’, as Anjali had immediately and irreverently dubbed him, was expected any day, and according to Anjali, that day seemed to have arrived.

“When?” Mansi asked, a shade nervously. “Today, tomorrow?”

“Today, I think. He's on the way,” said Anjali, her own face mirroring her nervousness too. “He's talking to the 'old man' on the phone. I heard the 'old man' ask him what time. Maybe later this morning. Get your drawings into apple pie order. I'd better tidy up my desk. God, what a mess. Why did the 'old man' have to go get angina? This place was so nice! Now everything will change.”

“Maybe not,” said Mansi hopefully. “Maybe he just wants a foothold here, and will let things run the old way for a time. After all, the 'old man' isn't retiring yet. He's going to run the shop for a while.”

Anjali nodded and moved to her own desk, but neither of them were convinced. Both knew in their hearts that things were going to change, and in a big way. How big, neither of them ever envisaged.

The 'old man' appeared at the door of his room. He looked at both the girls, one busy with her drawings, and the other with her correspondence. Both were working with complete concentration and did not notice him. They were good girls, he thought, and very good workers. Anjali ran his office like a dynamo, an excellent and extremely efficient secretary. And Mansi – he sighed as he looked at Mansi. She had gone through so much of hell in her personal life, that the office was a sanctum for her, where she spent the maximum possible waking time, going home only to sleep. She had no social life, no friends apart from Anjali – she kept to herself, surrounded by the protective cocoon she had built up around her, scared to venture out, scared that she would only get hurt again. Her whole being was concentrated in her work, her drawings, her plans. She made plans for beautiful houses for other people, but did not have a place she could call her own home.
The 'old man' sighed again, and then straightened, his face firming. Mansi had come in at a time when he had needed help. She had needed it too, but she had done far more than was required of her, and he was determined that she would not suffer in the deal he was about to make.
He cleared his throat loudly and both girls looked up.

“Ahem, girls,” he said. “Mr. Khanna will be coming in an hour. Please make sure you are both ready and up to date with all your work. But both of you, remember this. You are part of this office, as I am. I'm not kicking the bucket yet, and till I do, neither of you leaves here, unless of your own free will. So you don't have to be worried about anything. That is one of the conditions of this take over.”
“Takeover?” Mansi asked sharply. “Sir, are you…is he taking over the place? Will you not own the firm any more?”

He looked at her kindly. "No, Mansi, I don't mean that. We are going into partnership, but I will still hold controlling rights. I have insisted on that for the time being. I want you both to have time to decide whether you want to work with the new management or not. Things are going to change, I warn you. He is a young man, more ambitious than I ever was, and he will not be content with this small operation for very long, when he sees how much more we can do, with all our contacts and goodwill. But this is goodwill that I have built up, contacts that I have nurtured. He cannot and will not walk in and take them over till I know how he is treating my staff, who has helped for so long. Listen, Anjali, Mansi. This office has been my life. I am alone – I have no wife, no children. This office is all I have. I am not interested in money, never have been. I only ever wanted a place where I could do things my way, and show that one can live very well, without being greedy. I have done that. If I had children, a family, somebody to grow this place for, things may have been different. But I am quite content the way things are, and now that the time has come for me to enjoy the fruits of my work, I can retire quite happily. You both and Suresh are the only people I can call my own, and I promise you, that before I go anywhere, I will make sure that you all are doing well. I have to stop work for some time – my doctor is very clear about that. But I will make sure you are settled before I go.”

Mansi and Anjali listened with growing disquiet. This did not sound like the old man was going to carry on for too long, and that was not good news at all. He smiled at them and they both smiled back, but it took an effort, one that he was aware of, but could do nothing about. He walked back into his office with a heavy step, leaving them to continue with their work.

Anjali and Mansi looked at each other cautiously.

“What do you think?” asked Anjali.

Mansi spoke carefully. “Let's see, Anjali. Let's not be too hasty. Maybe things will work out ok. After all, this place runs well. We have good projects on hand. All the present plans have been approved already. From what the 'old man' said, seems to me that what we can really expect is expansion. If the ‘rajkumar’ wants to expand this place, stands to reason he won't get rid of us – rather, he should want to get in more people. Unless he doesn't like our faces, of course. That we can't do anything about!”

Anjali laughed. “If he's young, and doesn't like our faces, it will be because he is married, and his wife doesn't want two such gorgeous creatures tempting her husband. Unattached ones, that too! Sheer dynamite! Is he married, by the way?”

“No idea,” answered Mansi, smiling back at the other girl’s nonsense. “But as for unattached, I'm not unattached, remember? You seem to be forgetting that very conveniently!”

“You are almost unattached,” scoffed Anjali. “Or soon will be, at any rate. That thing you call a husband has been nowhere on the scene for the last two years, and you can get your divorce uncontested. If you want to, that is. I personally don't know why you're hesitating at all.”

Mansi paused, the smile fading from her face as it became shadowed. “It's not so easy, Angel,' she said slowly. 'Divorce is somehow such a final break. I keep feeling that if I could do something more to help him, maybe he would come back … Maybe I haven't done enough, tried hard enough…”

“Have your in-laws been getting to you again?' asked Anjali shrewdly. 'I think you’ve done more than enough, not just for him, but for them as well. They seem to be taking you for granted now. Everything you earn, you give them. Everything they need, they want, is organised and they don’t even ask how you manage … do they even know …?”

“Enough!” Mansi held up her hand, laughing as the other girl started getting swept away on the tide of her annoyance. “I’m really not such a martyr as you make me out to be, you know. They have been very good to me, Angel. Anyway, that is beside the point. How did we start talking about Manish, anyway?”

“You did,” retorted Anjali. “Claiming you're not unattached! If you'd take my advice, if the rajkumar is good-looking and single, make a bid for him! Young, up and coming, already has his own business. Sounds excellent. I know I'll have a jolly good try!”

Mansi started laughing again, this time without any shadows in her face. And that was the first glimpse that the new boss got of her, when the 'old man' opened the door of the office, to introduce him to his new staff.