Humraaz
Humraaz – Confidante

Chapter 1
Present Day

The sedan slowed as it weaved through the stream of traffic. After a busy week, Mahima was looking forward to a relaxed day. The merger deal with the Australian delegation had finally come through yesterday. The achievement made the Family Day celebrations scheduled for this evening extra-special. Mahima smiled as she reached for the newspaper Reshma had packed in her jute bag.

Reading the newspaper on the way to work was an old habit. There was a time when each section of the newspaper had had its own relevance. After taking in the news, she would linger on the smattering of advertisements. She would use her red sketch pen to circle the relevant classifieds.

The assurance of health, wealth, or fortune that the weekly horoscope contained seemed to be meant especially for her. But these days, the headlines had already been ‘broken’ by many competing news channels. Live weather updates were available on everyone’s phone. And Zodiac sign-based predictions had been usurped by new entrants to the world of prophecy, like tarot and numerology. Even the editorials were watered-down versions of the incisive commentaries of the olden days that would be intensely discussed in coffee houses amidst acrid fumes of cigarette smoke. The comic strips were the only part of the newspaper that offered any novelty now.

But, bound by habit, she continued her ritual every morning on the way to work. Wasn’t that typical of all our habits? Vestiges of our past, which we are too lazy or too sentimental to change; we kept repeating them until they became a part of us—our routine—and our subconscious, without our knowing why.

She took her eyes off the newspaper and looked out the window. People were rushing about with a sense of purpose. Most of them would be headed to their workplaces. She often wondered how the city kept expanding to make space for the thousands who came here by choice or compulsion, in hope or in desperation. But it did. Just as it had for her when she had arrived here as a shy bride, 25 years ago. From rushing to catch a rickety DTC bus then to being driven in a shiny Mercedes now, so much in her life—and the city of Delhi—had changed. She remembered how the ambling traffic used to be dwarfed by the double-decker buses, instead of by the metro that now whizzed above the chaos of perpetually honking vehicles. There were swank malls everywhere, and so many shiny glass towers. New slip roads and flyovers had been constructed, their beautiful landscape coexisting with the clusters of shanties that inevitably cropped up below them. Yet, the greenery of the city remained, as did its quintessential blend of history and modernity that made Delhi, Delhi.

Like the newspaper, her destination—the corporate office of Roxanne Industries—had remained constant over the years.

She quickly skimmed over the headlines. Until a photo inside caught her eye.

Sanjay.

Chapter 2

It was a recent picture from a corporate event. The report was headlined:

Sanjeevani Pharma Research Institute announces breakthrough cancer treatment drug

She smiled. The dreams Sanjay had tried so hard to bury had flowered, just as she had known they would. Their roots had run deep, after all.

The car drew up at the foyer of one of the most famous buildings on Kasturba Gandhi Marg, the top of which housed a revolving restaurant with panoramic views. The offices of Roxanne Pharmaceuticals occupied the entire fourth floor of the building.

The valet opened the door for her, and she smoothened the creases of her crisp cotton saree. Slipping the newspaper into her jute bag, she entered the elevator.

The mood in the office was festive, with everyone greeting and congratulating her.

“Ma’am, the merger is such a great achievement!”

“Did you see the coverage on TV yesterday?”

“Ma’am, you single-handedly lifted the share market yesterday. What a rally!”

She smiled. “Thank you. But it is the efforts of all of you that make the company what it is. We will all celebrate together in the evening.”

The deal with the Australian delegation was another feather in the company’s cap. Roxanne Pharmaceuticals had become the first Indian pharma company to acquire an international chain of companies. She entered her chamber and called for the draft of the press release.

Having made the necessary corrections and authorised the release, she sank into the couch upholstered with blue fabric. The large bay window seat overlooking the bustling road was her favourite spot for both, brainstorming and quiet reflection. This entire room was close to her heart. She had designed it, along with the logo of the firm and the rest of the office space. She had spent hours poring over the architect’s plans and ideating with the interior designers when the office was being built. The colours of the brand were reflected in the pristine white desk and chair, and the blue wallpaper.

She unfolded the newspaper at the page with the grainy photograph. She didn’t need to wear the reading glasses that hung on her neck on a silver chain to sharpen the details that the low printing quality had made fuzzy. The mole near his upper lip, the furrows on his forehead and the prominent Adam’s apple stood out, as always. So did the scar running along his left jawline. Once her mind had taken in all this, she peered at the caption below the picture.

The announcement was made at the annual convention of the Federation for Drug Research and Discovery. Sanjay was flanked by the Chairperson of the Chambers of Indian Pharmaceuticals and the Vice-Chancellor of a new university.

Memories of the days when Roxanne was a single-room office in a corner of this building came alive. What had started as a small manufacturing plant on the outskirts of Delhi was now a township with a large on-site community of workers and their families. Sanjay was a luminary in drug research and she, the CEO of Roxanne Pharmaceuticals. Neither of them had ever imagined the lives they were living today.

Just as she began to read the news report, there was a knock on the door.

“Ma’am, these documents came in just now.” Her reverie would have to wait.

The urgent documents had sections marked for her comments. She reached for the phone to issue a few instructions.

Arjun, one of their longest-serving employees, waited to take the papers back from her.

“Arjun bhaiya, all set for the evening? You must bring your grandson along.”

“Ji, ma’am. Already bought new clothes for him. This is his first outing,” the elderly man said with a broad smile. He shut the door softly behind him, leaving her with Sanjay’s picture again. And the memories.