Cycle
Aditi Chandrasekar
1
We had been talking about what makes a good marketer when my boss, Raj, told me ‘You’re one of the best I’ve met.’
A sullen yellow light washed over our faces. We were in a dingy bar somewhere in Indiranagar. I kept my body turned ever so slightly to ensure that the better half of my face - the left side - was illuminated.
Raj spoke about work only briefly. He moved on quickly to other topics. He told me about a book he’d been reading recently, about the art of body language, and said, ‘I read that when two people are enjoying a conversation, they lean in closer to each other.’ He wiggled his finger back and forth between us. I leaned back.
‘What do you think about that campaign Diya pitched?’ I asked. A thinly veiled attempt to divert him. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it but there was a flicker of something on his face, like the smile he held up until then was replaced by its ghost, before he answered.
2
When I stumbled into my boyfriend’s flat that night, I could only make out a blurry figure seated on the couch. I felt its gaze on me for a few seconds before it wordlessly walked out of the door. Where are you going? I turned around and asked but the words that exited my mouth were unintelligible.
I made my way to the balcony and sank into a bean bag. I took many gulps of the night air before the spinning in my head paused. I waited. When Sameer finally reappeared, I could see him clearly. A deep frown had settled in.
‘Can’t you see what Raj is doing with you Anju?’ he said.
‘It’s not like that, babe. Trust me.’
‘What is it like then? Name another woman you know who just goes out with their manager to a bar alone.’
I couldn’t come up with a response.
‘Do you enjoy it? The attention he gives you?’
‘I don’t know.’ I muttered. I couldn’t look into his bloodshot eyes any longer, so I looked down. Soon enough, sobs began to rock my body.
It was a whole minute later that Sameer took a step towards me. He grabbed my shoulders.
‘He’s just an old prick who’s using you. Don’t drink with him ever again, okay?’ he said. I felt his fingers dig into my back. I nodded.
3
Sameer went to the UK for his sister’s graduation and his life became increasingly busy, so we only talked on the phone every few days.
I proposed the idea of a movie night. We perused his schedule until we landed on a 2-hour slot that suited us. I chose a romcom on Netflix, and greeted him with a finger heart when he showed up in the Zoom meeting. He looked tired.
‘How have you been?’ he asked, ‘how’s your sleep?’
‘I’ve been sleeping in autos. Too much work.’
‘What?’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’ve got to take care of yourself, babe.’
I nodded. We hit play at the same time.
Fifteen minutes into the movie, I glanced at the tiny square of his face. He was checking his phone.
‘Sameer?’ I asked.
He looked up. ‘Sorry babe. Work. They’re driving me crazy these days.’
I stayed quiet for the rest of the movie. We both did. We passed each other a few knowing smiles and feigned shocked expressions whenever the movie called for it.
At the end of the movie, he stretched and said, ‘Alright, I’ve got to prepare for my meeting now. I miss you.’
‘I miss you too.’ I stared at myself on the screen for a few seconds after he left. Was that a new pimple on my forehead?
4
Layoffs took place at work the next day. I texted Sameer a screenshot of the email from the CEO that had landed in our inboxes. He was shocked and I pretended to be too. Raj had told me this was coming, a few months ago. My co-workers paired up at every desk to discuss the matter in increasingly angry whispers. I was pulled into one such discussion that was happening next to me.
‘How could they fire Sushil?’
‘He was practically running the team.’
‘Restructuring, my ass.’
Raj was inside of a meeting room, calming down what looked like an angry mob. We locked eyes.
‘Hey, I hope you’re okay.’ I texted him that night. The glow of the screen on my phone pained my eyes in the dark but I continued staring at the message I’d sent.
‘I am :) You take care.’
I cried a few minutes later, staring at the ceiling fan. I couldn’t put my finger on why.
5
When a colleague sat next to me in the office the next day, I wondered if the bags under my eyes showed. He made small talk with me for a short minute before he said, ‘We should go out sometime.’
I managed to let out a curt smile. His name was Karan. He took my phone and typed his number. ‘Let me know.’
I texted him that evening,’ Hey, just wanted to tell you I have a boyfriend. We can still meet as friends if you want to.’
Pat came the reply. ‘I do. Chai at 8?’
I arrived at 8 in Chai & Sons, a hot box that was basically an excuse for a tea stall. Karan arrived ten minutes later with a tight-lipped apology, and instantly flagged down a waiter.
Then, he placed his arms on the table and asked me about my day. ‘It was alright. Tiring.’ I asked him about his.
At some point during the conversation, we talked about the layoffs at work. ‘I don’t think that Sharma knows his shit at all.’ he said, shaking his head glumly. Sharma was the CEO.
I didn’t realise an hour had passed until I checked my phone.
‘What do you think of Raj?’ he suddenly asked.
‘What about him?’ I blinked, slowly putting my phone back down on the table.
‘I know he’s your boss and all…but what do you really think of him?’
‘You go first’
‘No, you work with him.’ He shook his head, ‘I don’t want to say anything that could bite my ass.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Come on.’
‘I mean … it seems like he spends more time talking to women than actually doing his job.’
A sharp laugh left my mouth. I nodded. ‘Yeah,’ Karan piped up at my accepting response. ‘Young women.’ I added.
‘Yeah’, he said. ‘Manisha was just telling me that he took her out for drinks recently. Poor girl doesn’t realise what’s happening.’
I nodded slowly.
‘Manipulation. He seems to be really good at it.’ he continued, like he was commenting on the weather.
My throat felt dry.
We walked around the neighbourhood after that. I talked about Sameer, hesitantly. In return, he opened up about his most recent relationship.
We stood quietly next to each other as we waited for his cab to arrive. ‘I know I’m crossing a line saying this but I think you deserve better than your boyfriend.’ he said.
I lowered my head. I didn’t want him to read my mind. I suspected that he could.
6
I had a dream that night. I was on my bed and I was naked. The room was dark and I initially thought the man on top of me was Sameer. Or Karan. It was only when a beam of light shone from somewhere outside the window that I noted the fox eyes and a contorted expression of pleasure on Raj’s face. I ran my fingers through his hair. I felt a thousand fireworks explode in my abdomen.
When I woke up from the dream, it was still dark outside.
7
The next morning, I dressed up nicer than usual. I looked forward to feeling almost triumphant whenever Raj would saunter over to my desk and chat with me—but he didn’t.
Instead, he spent his day gallivanting with Manisha in between his meetings.
I sat purposely close to where they were. I barely heard them over the sound of my desk mates chatting and my own fingers clacking the keyboard but there was a sentence I could make out. ‘Does Friday work?’ Raj asked her.
On the auto ride home, I wondered if he liked her throaty laugh and the bold shade of lipstick she wore every day.
In bed that night, I opened Instagram and clicked on Karan’s profile.
I scrolled using one index finger, carefully, so I didn’t accidentally ‘like’ a photo. There were many photos of him hiking. The thick veins that ran beneath his skin were visible even from the distance that the photos were taken. I stared at them so long I memorised the trail they formed.
8
When Sameer came back from the U.K., I used the spare key he had given me to go over to his house before he arrived, to cook him his favourite meal. When he arrived, he enveloped me in his arms at his doorstep. I stared down at the sprinkle of dandruff that rested on his black t-shirt.
We sat down at the dining table. I placed a small mound of beans and rice on my tongue, chewing for a long time, before blurting, ‘I need to tell you something.’
I hoped that he couldn’t tell that my hand inserted in the heap of rice was shaking.
‘Hmm?’
‘I think I realise that Raj has been kind of harassing me.’
I told him I felt obliged to drink with Raj, like something bad would happen if I didn’t. I told him I felt burdened with the information about the layoffs before it happened, that I’d been trusted with something I never wanted to know.
Sameer listened quietly, and then he stood up and paced around the living room, his hand still wet with curry.
‘I’m sorry. You were right. I was blind and I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘It’s not your fault.’ I doubted if he really meant that.
‘What if we try to expose him?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘An anonymous email maybe? Do you think that’d be enough to get him suspended or something?’ I enquired.
Sameer stared at me, his expression unreadable.
‘Can you help me do it?’ I ventured.
‘No, Anju, that’s too risky and too much.’ Sameer waved his hand. A grain of rice landed on the floor.
‘What do you think I should do then?’
‘Just quit that job. It’s better that you are at peace in another job and company where you don’t have a dick of a boss.’
His shoulders slouched the more that he spoke, like the anger that had held them up until a few seconds ago had evaporated suddenly. Like all it took was the threat of an action to defeat him. I looked down at my plate and nodded. I couldn’t stand to look at him any longer.
9
I asked Karan to meet at Chai & Sons the next evening. When I approached him, I saw that there was already a plate of French fries on the table.
In between bites of fries, Karan said, ‘So, what’s up?’
‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘About?’
‘You know you were telling me about Raj going out with women and how he manipulates them and stuff.’
Karan’s smile faltered. ‘Uh huh’
‘So … what are the options for a woman in that situation?’
‘Are you in that situation?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘No, but’ I said, ‘what would a woman in that situation do? What can she do?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. They could quit. Sometimes, they slap on legal cases that usually go nowhere. They can write and publish their experience somewhere online.’
‘Okay.’
‘Is Raj bothering you?’ he pressed on.
I looked down at the plate of French fries, and grabbed one.
‘You can tell me, you know. We can come up with something to do about it.’
I looked up at him. ‘Let’s take the motherfucker down,’ he said, staring a little too intensely into my eyes.
I pulled my laptop out of my bag. ‘Okay.’
10
We wrote an anonymous email. To Jigar, the head of HR. I wrote about feeling pressured to go out with him for drinks, how he’d given me money when I talked about some financial problems at home, and how he’d shared confidential information with me, about the layoffs before they took place.
Karan pressed send. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him looking at me, at the leg I jiggled nervously and the skin I was tearing off my bottom lip. He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
11
Jigar responded a day later. He wanted to meet. To verify my identity, to get more detail and to get a go-ahead for an internal investigation.
12
I wrote and rewrote a draft for a response. For an entire day, my mind reeled with the possibilities. I could tell HR yes, build my case, maybe even get Raj suspended. Instead, I let the email grow stale.
I lied to Karan and told him that I hadn’t received a reply. Over another chai, he asked if we should reach out to someone else or make an anonymous blog post somewhere. I told him that wouldn’t be necessary for now, and that I was applying to other jobs.
‘I just want to put this all behind me,’ I said. He didn’t push further. At the office, it became easier to ignore Raj, to occupy myself with work.
One evening, Sameer arrived back at his place after drinks with his friends from college. I could tell that he was in a good mood. He came up to me in the kitchen and held my face between his palms. I said nothing, revelled in the attention.
He took off his jacket. ‘Did that weird HR lady from that start-up get back to you? On your job application?’ he asked.
‘No, she hasn't,’ I replied.
‘Hmm, and how’s work now?’ Sameer continued to ask. He began to wash his hands at the sink, ignoring the soaped cooker and plates.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I slid it out and glanced at the screen. ‘Peco’s at 9?’ read a text message. I stared at Sameer’s back, hunched over at the sink. I stared at his small shoulders. I stared at the kitchen counter, where a bunch of cut vegetables and open spice dabbas lay. I was making khichdi for dinner.
‘Yes.’ I quickly texted Karan back. As Sameer made his way back towards me with wet hands, I slid my phone back into my pocket. He planted a kiss on my lips. I made a mental note to visit the salon to get my eyebrows threaded before 9 pm. I could prepare khichdi for Sameer and then meet Rumi tonight.
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