Mansa Tiwari wound up her presentation to the board. As the chief operation officer of her company, she had put forth certain cost reduction strategies that would be beneficial to the merger the company was hoping for. The purpose was to cut back costs without resorting to employee retrenchment. She sat back placidly waiting for the inevitable dissent for some of her suggestions.
“It’s typically a woman’s presentation Mansa!” rasped the senior-most executive Rohan Datta, who always liked to be ‘a spoke in Mansa’s wheels.’
“It’s a matter of personal opinion, Datta,” was her scathing reply. “I would feel that bread and butter is more important than few people’s caviar and champagne. High-end company accommodation is also one such example!” Datta turned puce with embarrassment and many others busied themselves with their papers, but Mansa was unperturbed. She never tried to clothe her words with tact and also knew she was not liked much. They merely tolerated her, more so for her efficiency. She had learnt the hard way to become strong and independent.
She briefly remembered the carefree girl she once was. It had taken a big blow for the girl to grow up fast and she did just that overnight. She had learnt the hard way not to wear her heart on her sleeve. and wear a mask. Hence, she portrayed the outlook of a girl who was willing to claw up the corporate ladder by her sheer grit and determination. She studied and emulated all the aspects that would make her image seem larger than life. Her impregnability was built around power dressing to the mile high heels she wore just added inches to her already tall frame and made her a towering personality that was made to make men smaller.
The rest of the day went by as she had to sit through back to back meeting to finalize the paced out projects to cut down costs. The next day was an important day for the company as the top heads of the parent company was to visit to finalize the merging.
“Boss, can I leave?” Her secretary, Aarti interrupted as she was catching up with piles of paper work on her table. “It’s after seven.”
“If you are interested in clock watching, you can look for a job elsewhere!” Aarti gasped, her eyes filling with tears.
“You’ll have my resignation first thing in the morning. I would like to add that despite your ill-temper I admired you for a lot of things. Most of the people call you the ice-mannequin, but I always thought you merely cloaked your feelings and there was more to you than what you projected to the outside world.” She brushed off the tears of anger and hurt from her eyes. “I admired you for your dedication and your sense of justice. Today, I only pity you. I have an eight-month old son to take care of. He had not been well this morning, yet because of the back to back meetings of yours, I came here without applying for leave. You don’t realize that a woman like me who manages both, home and career has to overcome guilt at every step and is worth thousands of you. Have a great day, boss and continue being bitchy to the world at large!”
Mansa dug her hands into her palm too shocked at Aarti’s tirade. Her secretary had been with her from the beginning of her tenure in the present post. She had been a source of strength to her yet; she had never tried to ingratiate herself for personal advantage. Aarti’s parting shot kept playing in her mind.
“Do yourself and the rest of the world a favour and try and become a better person. Whatever your baggage, learn to let go. None of us need to bear the brunt for someone else’s ill temper.”
Mansa accepted the truth in Aarti’s statement. She had developed a protective mechanism from the time she had been let down by Ravi. She had been a fresher in her college. She had a much protected childhood. She was her father’s princess though her mother was much more rooted to reality.
She had an elfin charm with her shoulder length hair shaping her head lovingly only adding grace to her petite frame. Hence, it was no surprise when Ravi Khanna, the college Sports captain and the best hip-hop dancer of the college showed more than a cursory interest in her after they had partnered in
a dance.
Mansa first awareness of Ravi was on the very first day of her college, when her heart skipped a beat when he and his friends formally welcomed the freshers. They were at the gate of the campus subjecting the newcomers to minor forms of ragging.
“Introduce yourself by writing your name in the air with your backside!” was one such instruction to a bespectacled fresher who had goodnaturedly done so amidst lots of guffaws.
They had her and some girls walking a make believe ramp to a famous Bollywood song. The smoldering look he gave her as she passed close to him made her heart do a jump.
As days passed, she learnt a lot about Ravi and his bevy of beautiful girls who normally clung to his arms. She loved him with all the passion of a young, inexperienced heart. When she was chosen to partner him for an inter-college dance competition, she was exhilarated. Her closest friend, Archana noticed her wearing the heart on the sleeve and repeatedly warned her but she was blithe about the whole thing and their coming together for dance practice was her undoing.
He was a tough task master as he taught her the nuances of the dance. “Mansa for heaven’s sake loosen up,” saying this he grasped her hips from behind and the suddenness of the gesture had her gasping and looking at him. Their gazes were locked for an eternity. His eyes turned dark as passion rose within him and she looked mesmerized as she felt his mouth slowly approaching hers.
“One final practice folks before we wind up for the day!” The choreographer clapped and the magic was lost. The heightened awareness between the two increased as the days to the contest neared and culminated on the day they won the event.
“We did it, Mansa!” Ravi hugged and lifted her off her feet twirling her around till they both were breathless. He looked up at her and once again their gazes locked and he abruptly released her and walked away from the room. She was hurt and confused. Why did he do it? She followed him to see him with his back turned standing on the balcony, his hands clenching and unclenching. She lightly touched his arms, and he turned and growled at her, “Are you that innocent that you don’t know what you are doing to a man?” he said fiercely, as he caught her roughly to him and kissing her none to gently. Her gasp of fear had him changing the tactic as he eased off planting small kisses on her brow, cheek, chin all the while, professing that she was driving him mad and her innocence was like an aphrodisiac. He expertly made her aware of her hold over him and she exulted over the fact that he, “the lady killer”, was spending his time with a novice like her and apparently enjoying it. She felt all powerful as he shuddered deeply and when he caught her mouth once again, she did not utter a whimper of protest and both were lost in the passion that gathered momentum. Her fumbling inexperience only excited him and they both lost control only to spend a night of passion in a room in a motel. Surprisingly, not even for a single moment did she feel that there was anything sleazy about the whole experience for she was so caught up with his apparent need for her that she felt it was natural for her to give in as an ultimate gift of her love. She went home late and mumbled that she won the contest and on the pretext of tiredness, escaped to her room only to hug the thought of the most beautiful night of her life.
She went to college with stars in her eyes. She wasn’t even afraid of her parents’ disapproval; she was that sure about her love.
“Hiya, Mansa… How are you after yesterday’s experience?” Ravi guffawed, with a lewd wink in her direction and giving a resounding kiss to the girl in his arms who sniggered!
Mansa was rooted to the spot, all colours draining off her face. She felt the entire college watching her and she wasn’t even aware of Archana bundling her into a rickshaw and taking her back home.
“Aunty, she is unwell… Archana stammered out some lame reasons for her sickness.
“Who is the man?” asked the perceptive mother, and Archana poured out the entire sordid story.
Mansa hugged her arms around her body as the chill pervaded in her suddenly cold office. She remembered her father’s disappointment and icy anger at her and her mother’s strength and her complete support. “Don’t treat our daughter like a slut! Yes, she has made a mistake… but this is the time we stand by her. She has been let down by the person she thought she loved.” Her mother took charge. She helped her go through the rest of the semester by taking her to a counsellor; she made sure Mansa received their unconditional love though she knew that she could never gain back her parent’s complete trust. Even years later, she still could feel the look of conquest on Ravi’s face when he had looked at her the morning after. Each time, the expression was enough to make her feel like a something that crawled out of a neglected corner. Though she knew that men and many women were able to detach the emotions from their physical urges, she felt that she was willfully cheated by Ravi and humiliated publicly. Except for Archana, she never encouraged anyone to be close enough to her as she felt that was the only way she could inure herself from further slights and hurt. Thus, she managed to put all her energy into studies and she managed to ace one exam after another. London School of Economics followed by Wharton Business School, she was all set to climb the corporate ladder which she did with aplomb but allowing her interpersonal skills to suffer because she had not allowed herself to heal completely.
In that cold, empty office, she purged her system of all the hurt, resentment, humiliation, death of her innocence, guilt for hurting her parents and the part of her that was lost to her forever. She wept deeply and harshly for a decade and half of suppressing her feelings and not looking at the issue head-on. She sat there in the dark for what seemed like aeons…then finally she picked up the phone on her desk, “Aarti, can you find about the best counsellor in town and book the first available slot? You’re right, it’s time to shed my baggage.”
Her journey to embrace the present had begun.
