Dad.
Shambhavi jumped out of her bed and rushed to his room. She flung the door open and fumbled with the switchboard to turn on the light. Her father was sitting up on his bed, groaning. He seemed to be in agony and she ran to his side.
'What's wrong? Dad, where does it hurt?' she asked.
Her father kept groaning.
'Do you need to see a doctor? Are you feeling strong enough to come with me to the hospital? Can you hold on till that long?' she shot a flurry of questions at him. It was not a time to panic, but she could not help herself from doing so. Her mind started working overtime as she started coming up with ways to solve the problem at hand.
He shook his head and let out a yowl.
'Do you need water? Where are your pain meds?' she inquired and poured out water from the jug into a glass.
'I ... don't ...' Mr Sen tried to say something but did not seem to be able to put words together.
'Where did you keep them? Don't you remember? Please, at least try to ...' she paused what she was saying when she saw the look on his face. He seemed to be in more pain than she had first thought. 'I'm calling an ambulance.'
'I'm never going to forgive you. You know that, right?' Shambhavi asked, hands on her hips, staring down angrily at her bedridden father, in his hospital ward.
'Why? What did I do?' he asked, with his best innocent-look on.
'You don't know what you did? What about that little stunt you pulled last night?'
'I didn't do that. It happened to me. Can't you see-I'm the victim here?'
'Cut it out, Dad. I know you were seeking attention from me. You could've just said so, you know? You didn't have to make me drag you to the hospital.' Shambhavi pouted and sat next to him on the bed.
'What can I say? I was desperate. My precious little daughter was so busy with work, she ignored me all month,' he smiled.
'Week, not month. And I was seriously busy with work.'
'That's what I said.'
'Whatever. You keep continuing your drama, and one of these days, I'm going to get you a private room at the hospital. Then I will be able to live my life in peace,' she threatened.
'Hasn't that been your lifelong dream?'
'Hmm,' Shambhavi said and got lost in her thoughts. In the panic of the previous night, she forgot that she had a meeting at the factory that dealer she met had referred her to. Her client would not be happy.
While Shambhavi wore a worried expression and her brain got to work, trying to find a way of rearranging the meeting, her father studied her. She had never been so serious about work and life, in general. Recently, she had been too driven to get everything in place. There was an invisible power pushing her every second.
'So, what's going on with work?' Mr Sen decided to prod.
'Huh?' Shambhavi came out of her trance.
'Work. Weren't you decorating a rich man's new mansion?'
'I was, till yesterday. I'm sure he's going to fire me if I don't deliver even today ...'
'Fire you? That bad, eh?' her father asked.
'Pretty bad. It's not him; it's his wife. The woman just doesn't like anything I show her. I have shown her the catalogues from every single furniture manufacturer and seller in the city. Imported, she won't accept. She doesn't like the pieces some freelancers from around the area had sent over. God knows what she wants.'
'Get her something custom made. These big people-they just want to have everything unique. Give her something no one else has.'
'It's easy to say. I have tracked down some local carpenters, but their work isn't that neat. Those who deliver decent results, take months to develop designs into the final product,' she complained.
'And who's designing these pieces for you?' Mr Sen asked.
'I am.'
'Oh, so this is going to be permanent-interior designing?'
'Yeah, I presume. As permanent a career option as anything can be with me. This is my ... thirteenth project, I guess. And I'm having fun with it. Plus it has a decent pay packet. Thank God I did that first stint at the Vermas' place,'
Shambhavi jumped out of her bed and rushed to his room. She flung the door open and fumbled with the switchboard to turn on the light. Her father was sitting up on his bed, groaning. He seemed to be in agony and she ran to his side.
'What's wrong? Dad, where does it hurt?' she asked.
Her father kept groaning.
'Do you need to see a doctor? Are you feeling strong enough to come with me to the hospital? Can you hold on till that long?' she shot a flurry of questions at him. It was not a time to panic, but she could not help herself from doing so. Her mind started working overtime as she started coming up with ways to solve the problem at hand.
He shook his head and let out a yowl.
'Do you need water? Where are your pain meds?' she inquired and poured out water from the jug into a glass.
'I ... don't ...' Mr Sen tried to say something but did not seem to be able to put words together.
'Where did you keep them? Don't you remember? Please, at least try to ...' she paused what she was saying when she saw the look on his face. He seemed to be in more pain than she had first thought. 'I'm calling an ambulance.'
'I'm never going to forgive you. You know that, right?' Shambhavi asked, hands on her hips, staring down angrily at her bedridden father, in his hospital ward.
'Why? What did I do?' he asked, with his best innocent-look on.
'You don't know what you did? What about that little stunt you pulled last night?'
'I didn't do that. It happened to me. Can't you see-I'm the victim here?'
'Cut it out, Dad. I know you were seeking attention from me. You could've just said so, you know? You didn't have to make me drag you to the hospital.' Shambhavi pouted and sat next to him on the bed.
'What can I say? I was desperate. My precious little daughter was so busy with work, she ignored me all month,' he smiled.
'Week, not month. And I was seriously busy with work.'
'That's what I said.'
'Whatever. You keep continuing your drama, and one of these days, I'm going to get you a private room at the hospital. Then I will be able to live my life in peace,' she threatened.
'Hasn't that been your lifelong dream?'
'Hmm,' Shambhavi said and got lost in her thoughts. In the panic of the previous night, she forgot that she had a meeting at the factory that dealer she met had referred her to. Her client would not be happy.
While Shambhavi wore a worried expression and her brain got to work, trying to find a way of rearranging the meeting, her father studied her. She had never been so serious about work and life, in general. Recently, she had been too driven to get everything in place. There was an invisible power pushing her every second.
'So, what's going on with work?' Mr Sen decided to prod.
'Huh?' Shambhavi came out of her trance.
'Work. Weren't you decorating a rich man's new mansion?'
'I was, till yesterday. I'm sure he's going to fire me if I don't deliver even today ...'
'Fire you? That bad, eh?' her father asked.
'Pretty bad. It's not him; it's his wife. The woman just doesn't like anything I show her. I have shown her the catalogues from every single furniture manufacturer and seller in the city. Imported, she won't accept. She doesn't like the pieces some freelancers from around the area had sent over. God knows what she wants.'
'Get her something custom made. These big people-they just want to have everything unique. Give her something no one else has.'
'It's easy to say. I have tracked down some local carpenters, but their work isn't that neat. Those who deliver decent results, take months to develop designs into the final product,' she complained.
'And who's designing these pieces for you?' Mr Sen asked.
'I am.'
'Oh, so this is going to be permanent-interior designing?'
'Yeah, I presume. As permanent a career option as anything can be with me. This is my ... thirteenth project, I guess. And I'm having fun with it. Plus it has a decent pay packet. Thank God I did that first stint at the Vermas' place,'
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