Sam smiled triumphantly as he walked down the shining marble floor of Apex international, graciously responding to the “Good Morning” wishes by the employees in the desk and the PR people stopping in their tracks. He had an air of self-contentment and was humming , inaudibly, under his breath. Once inside the lift, the façade of the dignified silent smile was substituted by a more natural grin. He had moved up the corporate ladder as swiftly as he was making his way up to the 20th floor now. He had just been promoted as the senior manager of the software company which was growing by leaps and bounds in the international arena.
After entering his plush upholstered cabin, he pressed the bell for the steward to attend to him. He was now the master of the show. He had all the luxuries of life now. Sam remembered how he had worked really hard to get his first job. All those sleepless nights, skipping meals and hard labour-just to make a mark-just to fuel his ambitions. All these had paid off. Sam luckily caught the fancy of one of his bosses in the marketing division and was generously helped by him to get a job in Apex at New York .
Knock Knock !
A short fellow in a black suit entered the room , his head bowed and a look of passive calmness on his face.
“Here boy. Bring me an Armitage—and make it fast.” He was checking some reports and did not look up while he commanded.
“Right away, Sir” replied the waiter.
Just as he made his way to the door, Sam glanced at him, for no apparent reason. Suddenly he felt like conversing with the man.
“Boy, what’s your name?” he asked with a smirk on his face.
The steward turned back swiftly. “Mike, Sir…My name is Mike” he smiled back.
“Oh Mike, tell me Mike, how long have you been working here?”
“A year, Sir” he smiled again.
There was no definite question in Sam’s mind but he was in a mood to linger on.
“So, do you like the work here?”
“I do, Sir”
Sam leaned on to his big leather chair. “So you are happy?” blurted out Sam and in the next instant he felt very disturbed again for a reason which he could not comprehend.
“My Parents are happy, Sir. They are very happy that I work in such a big office.”
It was as if the flood gates of emotions had been opened. Emotions gushed out of Sam’s closely guarded soul and took the form of tears in his eyes. With the blurred vision of reality, he managed to croak out-“You may go”.
The attendant politely bowed his head and went away with the same smile adorning his face.
Sam got up and came near the mirror. Was this Shyam Prabhat Saxena? He tracked his profile from head till toe. He was wearing a shining black Armani suit and was looking unnaturally neat today.
“Is that me?” His soul reverberated. Where is the Shyam who wore a cotton trouser and a casual white shirt to his first job? This was not Shyam. He is now what his colleagues call him as-Sam.
“My parents are happy”
The words still rang in his ears as they opened for him an avenue of long lost, long forgotten memories. Shyam remembered how he used to go out with his friends in Baroda , for a movie, 5 years back. How he used to enjoy the cluttered, dingy and occassionally smelly market place in Vasantnagar-how he used to come back from his office and feasted on the steaming ghee rotis made by his mother. He remembered the look of satisfaction in her eyes as she saw her son enjoying the food…
Where are those days? He might be doing a great job, earning lots of money, but is he at peace? Where are the lost days of simplicity? Everyone was happy with his job in India . But not he. He had dreams of making it really big one day. Shyam was a big shot excecutive now with a humungous contract salary, two cars, several attendants and a beautiful house in a posh colony.
But he existed alone. All alone. Life had shown him a dream and while pursuing that, he had moved so ahead that he could not see anybody in the vicinity now.
As he stared from the window down to the streets with microscopic objects moving around far far away from him, he felt cold, cheated and helpless. How long has he not called his parents back in India . They were still not able to believe that their son was staying abroad. It was a numb feeling but were they happy? There has been so many instances that Shyam had rejected a call from his father as he was in the middle of a meeting. He had always brushed off his mother’s willingness to stay with him in New york , postponing it for months, stating lack of time to arrange for it.
What has he done? What has he become?
Shyam could not take it anymore. He placed his head against the cool glass of the window closing his eyes with a deep sense of emptiness in his heart.
Knock Knock
It was the steward.
“Oh Mike, come in”,managed the Senior manager of Apex.
Mike brought in the tray consisting of the bottle of wine, a crystal clear glass and a tumbler of ice with tongs in it.
“Shall I make a drink, sir?”
“No”said Shyam. “I don’t need it”
He refused to be intoxicated.
Mike left the room with the same smile on his lips as Shyam, disillusioned, took up his phone to call back home.
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