Unedited/-
The morning light of Hudson hit a charming face like a soft kiss over his features. Curled up under the blanket, asleep in his own wonderland- until the shrilling ringing alarm clickbaited his dreams.
“Oh shut up, you quack!" his sleep-laden voice came out, hands reaching to stop it.
He wanted to walk back to his own dreamland but then the invigorating voice of his mother called him.
-"Ekansh!! Beta breakfast ban gaya hai!"
("Ekansh!! Son, the breakfast is ready!")
He slowly got up blinking his remnants of sleep away, ran a hand through his face and sighed.
Just an hour to go before he locks his warmth inside again.
He reached out for his phone and 109 emails already covered his notification area. He opened messages and saw Aveek- his friend but also a secretary's message.
Aveek:
Good morning buddy! Time to be the boss again! Meeting at 11:30 with the IT sector's legates and magistrates. They demanded a deal and your opinion on the modifications they sent last Saturday. They sent me a letter with all the specifications as well. They just require 20% of the profit.
In short, it's a jackpot + big deal. The only assigned slot I found was at 11:30. I told them. They agreed.
Another meeting at 4:30 pm was already assigned. Hope it works? Text me up when you read it.
He replied with an "Okay". Then, he went on to shower, did his morning routine and then dressed up and went downstairs.
"Good morning!!" Everyone greeted.
"Morning" He smiled back- a rare sight.
"So? Busy schedule?" His dad patted his back putting down the newspaper.
"Haan. Ek deal aya hai. We have to somehow crack it. Big profits. Par woh toh meeting ke baad pata chalega" He mentioned stirring his daily dose of energy- his mom's handmade coffee.
("Yes. A new deal. We have to somehow crack it. Big profits. But the result will be known after the meeting")
"Bhai, tu thoda rest bhi liya kar kabhi? Bachpan se tu aisa hi hai... Har time kaam." Ayan sighed while sipping his coffee.
("Brother, shouldn't you take some rest? From childhood, you're like this. Every time, it's the work.")
"Bhaiya, you're too workaholic. Try to take some rest as well. We know you handle work well." Nayan patted his back.
"Actually, I realised bachpan se jo mein mangi thi, kabhi woh mila hi nahi agar dekha jaye toh. Toh kaam hi sahi" Ekansh sighed.
("Actually, I realised, I didn't get anything that I wanted in my childhood. So, work it is.")
"Ye tu har baar bolta hai. Aisa kya chahiye tha tujhe bachpan mein?" Ayan squinted his eyes.
("You say this most of the time. What did you want in your childhood?")
"Accha chor na. Baccha tha tab, kuch baccho wala manga hoga. Shayad dhyan nahi pada." Vikram put down the newspaper and continued.
("Okay leave it. They were kids at that time, must've asked for something childish. We probably didn't notice it")
-"Aj bada deal hai tune kaha. All the best. Tu waise bhi bohot kaam karta hai but in between, remember you're this family's priority as well."
("Today you've got a big deal in your hands. All the best. I know you're a stalwart but in between, remember you're this family's priority as well")
He nods and finishes his breakfast before he heads out.
•••
Ekansh stepped into the crisp New York air, the wind nipping at his collar like it had a personal grudge. The chauffeur already stood by the matte-black sedan, door open in silent loyalty. He slid in, the leather seat swallowing him into its familiar stern comfort.
As the car pulled out onto the avenue, his gaze drifted across the city waking up- office lights flickering on floor by floor, people rushing with coffees in hand, taxis bleeding colour into the morning.
In the privacy of the backseat, his face settled into neutrality. The softness of home evaporated slowly, layer by layer, until all that remained was the CEO- calculated, unreadable, immovable.
His fingers drummed lazily against his knee, but his mind was already wading through proposals, numbers and probability curves like it was a second language he never stopped speaking.
The lift ride to the 28th floor was quiet, polished metal reflecting his collected posture back at him. The doors slid open to reveal a glass kingdom humming with purpose. Assistants scurried past, voices low and brisk. The office smelled faintly of cedarwood and ambition.
"Good morning, Sir," someone murmured as he walked.
He nodded without breaking stride.
Aveek was waiting at his cabin door, coffee in hand like a ritual offering.
"Your majesty arrives," he deadpanned.
"You sent me a novel at six-thirty in the morning," Ekansh replied, taking the cup. "I deserved a greeting."
"Correction. I sent you critical information," Aveek countered, pushing open the glass door. "And you replied with 'Okay'. Men like you should be illegal."
"I don't indulge dramatics at dawn."
"I noticed. You indulge stress instead," Aveek sighed, flopping onto the couch that definitely wasn't meant for lazing.
Ekansh didn't reply. He was already opening his laptop, the screen instantly drowning him in numbers and clauses. Silence trickled in like a third person in the room, familiar and never resented.
Aveek cleared his throat. "By the way. That IT delegation? They're confident. Too confident. So brace yourself for nonsense disguised as genius."
"That's every meeting," Ekansh murmured.
"True. But these guys are the 'we discovered a loophole at 3 a.m. and now we're gods' type."
"Fantastic," Ekansh said dryly, rising.
The conference room looked like an executive battleground-mahogany table, chrome accents, city skyline stretching beyond floor-to-ceiling windows.
As the IT corporation reps filed in, their smiles too broad and handshakes too enthusiastic, Ekansh's expression flattened into an armour only finance sharks understood.
The introductions blurred into negotiations, numbers volleying across the table like invisible tennis balls. Their demand of twenty per cent looked alluring on paper. But Ekansh wasn't a man who fell for surface gloss.
"So you want twenty per cent profit," he said, voice smooth as glass.
-"And in exchange, you're offering specifications you refuse to open-source to our internal team."
"That's proprietary technology, Mr Malhotra," one of them replied, adjusting his tie with a smug tilt.
Ekansh leaned back, eyes cold. "Proprietary tools are useless if your supply chains crash during scalability. Which, based on the data you sent, will happen within the first expansion phase."
The room froze. Why wouldn't it? Whenever he spoke, they knew he reigned.
Aveek's smirk was subtle and wicked-surfaced for a moment. He knows it.
Ekansh continued, dissecting numbers like a surgeon.
-"I don't do deals that crumble in six months. Fix your bottlenecks, resubmit your proposal, and then we'll talk."
One rep tried to salvage face. "But sir-"
"This isn't about sir," Ekansh cut in, still calm. "It's about competence and futility"
Silence.
The kind that choked. Meeting concluded.
The moment they were out, Aveek whistled. "You just annihilated them."
"I gave them clarity," Ekansh corrected.
"If they return stronger, we gain. If they don't, we were never losing."
-"You're terrifying sometimes, you know.”
"Occupational necessity."
Hours vanished into strategy calls and revision marathons. When the clock blinked 2:17 pm, Aveek barged into the cabin again, eyes glittering.
"Small chat?" he asked.
Ekansh glanced up. "You only ask that when you're about to propose an idea you know I'll refuse."
"True. So here's the deal." Aveek planted himself on the chair like it was a stage. "We. Need. A. Journalist."
Ekansh exhaled slowly. "For the expansion launch."
"For the public narrative," Aveek insisted. "People need a story behind this company, not just numbers. We're making waves, but we need someone to humanise you."
"There's nothing to humanise," Ekansh stated blankly.
"Exactly my point."
Aveek clapped his hands once, dramatically, "I'll scout. You approve. We win."
Ekansh eyed him. "You're too enthusiastic."
"Occupational hazard. I work with a statue that occasionally breathes."
"Fine," he conceded eventually. "Find someone competent."
"Competent. Smart. Independent. And available to work in New York immediately," Aveek muttered, scribbling mental lists.
-"Basically, a unicorn. Cool." he continued.
Ekansh stood, grabbing his blazer for the next meeting. "Good luck."
"You say that like I'm going into war."
"You are."
Aveek grinned, "On it, Malik saab."
Ekansh rolled his eyes, "Never say that again."
"Oh come on. We're born and brought up in India afterall. What rubbish." Aveek pouted.
Ekansh sighed, shook his head, and said, "Well, my childhood ended long ago when I was 15."
Aveek raised an eyebrow, "How so?! Everyone is in their teenage years at 15. Technically a kid."
"Not for everyone though. Is it?" Ekansh stared at him.
"I mean.. Well.. damn." Aveek shrugged.
The second meeting, despite being lower stakes, drained as much energy as the first. By evening, the city lights outside glowed like constellations. He returned to his cabin, loosened his tie, and let out a breath he'd been holding for hours.
His laptop pinged.
A message from Aveek.
Sent: 5:46 PM: Found potentially one. But she's in India. A freelancer. Unknown name. Has integrity, though. Not sure she'll accept.
Ekansh typed without hesitation, "Contact her."
The reply came almost instantly, "Already did. She'll think about it."
Ekansh sat back, unaware that somewhere across the world, a young woman stared at her phone with eyes wide and heart rattling like a snare drum.
He didn't know her name yet.
Didn't know the storylines she carried in her bones.
Didn't know she would walk into his smooth, glass world like a crack of sunlight he never asked for.
But in that moment, deals sealed, deadlines looming, something unspoken shifted.
The universe clicked one domino into place.
•••
Mumbai,
7th December.
Maya balanced her coffee mug on the corner of the chipped wooden table in her tiny Mumbai apartment while typing furiously on her laptop. The ceiling fan did its lazy half-wobble, threatening every five seconds to either fall dramatically onto her head or keep spinning out of pure spite.
Pihu sat cross-legged on the floor, hair tied in a messy bun and eyes wide behind her glasses as she devoured leftover parathas.
"Tune headline change kiya?" Pihu asked through a mouthful of food.
("You changed the headlines?")
"Of course, I changed it. Tumko lagta hai main itna basic likhti hoon?" Maya answered with fake offence.
("You think I write basic?")
"You do sometimes," Pihu said without looking up.
"Besharam," Maya snapped and flung a pillow at her.
But she was grinning.
("Shameless!")
Maya hit save and shut her laptop. It clicked softly like a sigh of survival. Freelancing was a financial earthquake.
One month, she felt rich enough to buy scented candles and colour-coded sticky notes. The next month she was calculating whether renting a camera for a project was more important than keeping the lights on.
Yet she loved her work. Words steadied her. Reporting gave her an identity she had built herself and not inherited.
Her phone buzzed.
She ignored it for two seconds out of habitual caution. Then picked it up absently expecting spam, a late bill reminder or one of those shady agencies assuming every woman secretly wanted to act.
Instead, she froze.
Malhotra Luxuries:
Invitation for an interview.
New York office.
Full-time journalism position.
Application appreciated.
Secretary: Aveek Shah.
(With a card)
For a moment she was convinced she was hallucinating from lack of sleep. Then she read it again.
"Tujhe pata hai tujhe kya mila hai?" Pihu's voice rose instantly as she grabbed the phone from Maya's hand and scanned it twice. "Oh my god. Oh my actual god. Maya this is huge. This is ridiculous. This is like a huge diamond-plated dream."
("Do you even know what you got?")
Pihu whisper-yelled, "...This is like a huge-"
"-scam," Maya finished weakly, grabbing her phone back as if Pihu might drop it down the balcony in excitement.
"Pagal hai kya? Scam?!" Pihu stared at her like Maya had sprouted antlers.
("Are you crazy? Scam?!")
"It could be," Maya defended, pacing the length of the room, which was about four steps max.
-"Vitamin supplements, credit card rewards, and now a Fortune 500 company wants me? A freelancer with WiFi that dies every Wednesday?"
"Woman, they know you write fire," Pihu declared dramatically. "Did you forget that exposé you did on that politician siphoning funds? It blew up everywhere!"
"Blew up locally," Maya corrected. "In a tiny corner of the internet."
"Still counts!" Pihu shot back.
Maya stopped pacing.
The email- with its bold header, its immaculate structure, its invisible weight; glared back at her from the screen.
New York. Professional newsroom.
Corporate storytelling on a global scale.
A job that could pay rent and electricity and maybe a second-hand DSLR if the universe felt kind.
"And just like that," she whispered, reading the line again, "We are happy to invite you for a preliminary virtual round."
Her laughter came out in a breathless puff. "This can't be real."
"The universe sent you a clue bat. Stop overthinking and accept," Pihu said, flinging her paratha at a plate with unnecessary authority.
Maya sank onto the worn sofa, legs suddenly too soft to hold her up.
She imagined skyscrapers. Frosted boardrooms. Suits. Deadlines.
A world colder, faster, sharper than anything her cramped apartment ever knew.
"New York ka ticket free mein nahi aayega Pihu," she muttered.
("A ticket to New York won't fall from the sky for free.")
"So figure it out," Pihu shot back, unbothered. "Loans exist. Crowdfunding exists. Jugaad exists. Worst case, we sell your firstborn-"
-"Pihu!"
"Kidding. Probably."
They both laughed, too loud, too tired, too hopeful.
Then Maya grew quiet.
Maya did not speak immediately. Her brain ran through a lifetime in seconds. The orphanage gate. Aunties scolding. Children crying in the afternoon heat.
Her younger self is sitting by a wall, tracing patterns into the dust. Her first diary. Her foster parents' laughter. School corridors. Arohi rolled her eyes whenever Maya won an award. Late nights writing until her fingers throbbed. Hope stitched with fear.
And somewhere much deeper than memory, a boy's laugh.
A boy whose name she barely remembered.
She blinked hard to clear the unexpected sting.
'E..E..k-' Before she could think more, Pihu shook her.
-"Abe bhondu, hawe mein tad kya raha hai, reply kar isse pehle ki woh dusri kisi ke pas chale jaye. New York mazak mein mat le. They are also one of the largest exporters. 5th position pe aate hai woh!"
("You dumb-headed, what are you staring at in thin air? Reply to them before they go to someone else. Don't take New York for granted. They are also one of the largest exporters. They are in 5th position!")
"I know," she breathed again.
"Lekin New York? It is not like switching suburbs. It is a whole damn ocean."
Pihu folded her arms, narrowed her eyes, "You always told me that if the universe whispers, you listen. Well, right now it is screaming."
Maya knew she had already decided. She typed her reply with trembling fingers.
A formal yes. Availability. Portfolio confirmation. Flight inquiry.
Sent.
Her phone buzzed instantly.
Aveek: Welcome to Malhotra Luxuries. We are thrilled to have your voice with us. Flight details are being arranged. Be ready within forty eight hours.
Maya sat very still.
It was happening. Not gradually. Not politely.
Her life was shifting like a door blown open by the wind.
Her foster mother, Jaya, burst into the room without knocking.
"Meher? I heard you shrieking. Kya hua? Kaun mar gaya?" she demanded.
("Meher? I heard you shrieking. What happened? Who dies?")
Pihu screamed back, "No one died. She is flying to New York."
Jaya blinked, "Wha... New York?"
Maya stood up and hugged her, "Maa. Job. Permanent position. Journalist."
For a second Jaya stiffened. Then warmth flooded her arms and she wrapped Maya tight.
"I knew you were made for something bigger than this building," she whispered.
They pulled apart only for Arohi to appear dramatically in the doorway.
"What is this noise? Koi lottery lagi kya?" she asked and tossed her hair.
("Did you get any lottery?")
Pihu answered without mercy, "Better than a lottery. Maya is going global."
Arohi's face cracked for the smallest moment. Surprise. Then effortful composure.
"Oh. Nice. Good for you," she said and slipped back into her room.
Jaya sighed.
"Do not mind her. She loves you. Bas samajh nahi pati kaise dikhaye."
("Do not mind her. She loves you. She just doesn't understand how to show it.")
Maya nodded, though jealousy stung more when it came from within your own walls.
Jaya cupped Maya's cheeks, "You worked hard. You earned this. Kab jaa rahi ho?"
("When are you leaving?")
Maya checked her phone again. Another email already blinked at the top of the inbox. Flight arrangement initiated.
Tentative departure window: 48 hours.
She swallowed, "Forty-eight hours."
The room went utterly silent. Pihu looked like she'd seen a ghost. Jaya blinked twice fast like processing paragraphs worth of emotion.
Even Arohi paused in the hallway.
Then the chaos, "What will you pack?"
"How much money do you need?"
"Passport? Visa? Clothes?"
"Laptop charger?"
"Shoes. You have only three shoes."
"Arohi get the iron."
"Wait. We need to tell Mrs Pinto. And that aunty who always borrows sugar."
"Focus. She needs a suitcase first!"
Through all of it, Maya stood in the centre of her tiny living room while the city outside buzzed like it had no idea her whole timeline had just bent sideways.
She exhaled once, deeply. She wasn't ready. Not emotionally. Not practically.
But she wasn't built to stay waiting forever either.
Somewhere oceans away, a man was already in boardrooms rewriting industries.
Somewhere in destiny's blueprint, their lines had shifted closer.
And in that small Mumbai flat, Maya whispered to herself just loud enough to hear, "This time I won't let life choose for me. I'm choosing it back."
The fan creaked above her head as if it approved.
•••
An hour passed like a whoosh. I still didn't get it. Is it real?
Why are they hiring an Indian out of all other nations? Well, yeah, they are indians as well but still believing that this is a permanent position if I get hired is already shaking the grounds for me.
"Yaar Pihu! Flight ka cost pata hai kitna hai? Haan toh kehe diye ab flight ka ticket woh bhi hum dono ka kaise layenge?" I blurted, biting my nails.
("Oh Pihu! Do you even know how much the flight tickets cost? We agreed on one foot but how do we get the tickets now?")
I don't know how many times I have opened my email just to check for any more responses, like I was waiting for my crush to reply back.
Pihu sighed, "Loan. Ek hi option hai. Aur baki ka savings jo humne last year se kiya hai."
("Loan. Only option. And the other savings we had from last year")
Just as we were talking about the money matters, another email came through.
"Subject: 2 free flight tickets booked for coming Saturday."
WHAT?!!!
FREE?!
"Pihu!!!" I screamed. Cause what else was I supposed to do?
Poor her, she got so startled she almost threw away her packet of chips.
"Kyaaa?!!" She looked at me wide-eyed.
("What?!!")
"Two free flight tickets! Aveek sir ne bheje!" I mentioned. And just as me, she screamed. In happiness? Shock? Sadness? Mixed? Yeah. Mixed.
("Aveek sir sent two free flight tickets!")
We danced around for a while and laughed. Definitely, fate was being lucky for me.
"Bhagwan ji hai sath mein. Thank god!" Pihu kicked her feet in the air.
("Lord is there with us. Thank god!")
Just as she said so, I got a blast from my past. I got some flashbacks from my childhood.
Not so long ago, I lost my parents. My friends, school life, everything.
And as I was adopted, I was raised with love and care; which honestly, I didn't expect to find again. As much as Jaya mummy and Vikram baba fed me well, got me into school, invested in me, I can never really pay it off.
On the other hand, Arohi didn't really have any affection for me. I knew it from the start but well, that shouldn't affect my whole life. Should it?
Pihu and I did really get a bite of the cherry. And we shall not leave it to get rotten. This must be our final chance.
I always thought that maybe we would forever be stranded like a cold day in July. But life had other plans.
But now, the only thing we gotta do, is to use this golden opportunity. And I'm not leaving it any time soon.
Late at night, when Pihu left for her house, I went to my drawer and opened it.
The scent of strong coffee and a hint of jasmine flowed through.
The papers and drawings.
I took them out, and all my orphan life came into my vision. Everything seems so blurry yet so clear.
As if some distant memoirs, etched into each pulse of the artery.
As much as I struggle to remember, I remember that little boy. Especially his eyes.
Hazel brown orbs that were as deep as the ocean. He made the orphanage seem less little and brighter. He would come to meet me every week at least once or twice.
I don't remember his name, the rest of his face, all I remember, is his soft eyes and his gentle smile.
I wonder what he might be doing. Where he might be at this hour. How is his life going? Are his parents still the same caring people they were? What about his health? Does he remember me?
Well, why will he? I was just a random orphan he made buddies with cause I used to be alone.
If I ever meet him again, will he recognise me or has he forgotten everything?
I don't know. But maybe.
I wasn't able to thank him or even say goodbye before I left the orphanage. I wish I had met him. Once.
My chain of thoughts was broken by Arohi barging into my room.
"Di, mein bhi chalu apke sath?" she requested.
("Elder sister, shall I accompany you?")
"Arohi. Tujhe pata hai na ki kitna paisa lagta hai uske liye? Free tickets sirf Pihu ko aur mujhe mili hai Arohi. Plus tujhe toh abhi bhi college complete karni hai na.. kaise jayegi?" I explained to her.
("Arohi, you know how much it costs? Only Pihu and I got the free tickets. Plus you still need to complete your college. How will you accompany?")
"Toh jinhone free tickets bheje hai unko bolo ki ek aur bheje" Arohi's face turned sour.
("Then tell that person to send another free ticket.")
"See, it's already very late. And you already know the credentials. So why be the dummy? Stay here and complete your studies first. Aur waise bhi, mummy nahi manne wali. Try to understand." I explained again with patience.
And really, I didn't have the energy to argue. She sighed and went back.
Thank god.
First chapter is here! Chapter 2 coming soon!
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