Page 42 of Made in Mumbai

“Who me?” She replied in her best Queen Elizabeth accent. “Just completing the precious minutes I missed through the day so that His Highness’s business does not suffer today.”

“Talk properly.”

“What do you want?”

“To know why are you here.”

“I said it. If you can’t understand the Queen’s English then it’s not my problem.”

“Mayaa…” he groaned, his voice hoarser.Good, hoarse voice and may you get a bad throat. At least three sleepless nights in a row, plus chocked nose.

He glanced at her wall clock — “You have overtimed by 2 hours already. That’s more than enough. Now grab your bag and come on.”

“I will overtime as much as I want. You go.”

“Maya, do not try my patience today.”

“Then can I try it tomorrow? What time?”

“Are you walking out of there on your own or I’ll go and switch off the fuse?”

“Go switch off the fuse. I have candles.”

“Cand…” he stared at her perplexed. “Why do you have candles?”

“For the cakes. There are so many people here, almost every week is somebody’s birthday or anniversary… do you know how expensive it is to buy single candles? IKEA has these pack of 8s that come at…” she stopped. “You know what, I won’t tell you. Go buy single candles for yourself and waste my hard-earned money.”

“Yourhard-earned money?”

“I am overtiming right now, amen’t… aren’t, no, ain’t I?”

“Ok, that’s it.” He marched into her office and began switching off the lights, shutting the AC, grabbing her things.

“I will complain to HR!”

“And say what? That the boss sent you home instead of making you work?”

“Ugh!” She snatched her bag from his hands and strode out of her office — “Bolt the window and pull out my charger.”

He was right behind her — “I am not your servant.”

“Acted like it. Come tomorrow also at 6. I like my lights switched off just as I leave the office…”

“Maya!” He held her bicep. She stopped. The lights in the co-working space were dimmed but she could see his face clearly. Even see his nostrils flare as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was softer, calmer. “What’s happening?”

“As in?”

“As in, you were… this morning when I scolded you, you did not make any smart comebacks or burn me like you did just now. What’s wrong?”

“It’s not your problem. Ok?”

“If you are to work in my company, it is my problem. I will need to plan projects around your maternity leave.”

“Oh yes, right. I am around 2-3 months pregnant. I haven’t visited the doctor yet. But the minute I have my due date I will inform you and Trisha. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you in a lurch.”

With that, she continued walking, and just as she was crossing the threshold of Made in Mumbai, she realised that she had said it out loud. Her deepest intention. She was having this baby. She was going to be a mother. A single mother. And like everything in her life so far, she was going to ace it.

7. Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

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