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“Great ambition is the passion of a great character. Those endowed with it may perform very good or very bad acts. All depends on the principles which direct them. “
If people were the epitome of what their names suggest, Tara wasn’t doing a good of it. She looked tired, weary and badly in need of some shut eye. But as it is with most high profile jobs, peace, quiet and rest remain as elusive as ever. The numero uno of Lucky One Media was pacing up and down the whole length of her spacious office, crunching numbers, making decisions all the way.
In the midst this sea of statistics, came a voice that ripped through the fabric of her thought.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”, It was her secretary’s voice, shaky with the anticipation of a backlash for breaking Tara’s train of thought.
Tara: “What is it?”
Secretary: “I have a message from Jennifer Joseph, you know, the photo journalist from Marie Claire. She wants another appointment for a photo session at your place.”
“Ufff, not this again….”, Tara murmured to herself.
Tara: “Okay, I’ll let you know. You may leave now.”
A clearly intimidated young woman dashed out, and Tara and her thoughts had the room to themselves once again.
“Why? Why again!?”, Tara gazed towards the heavens and shot out an array of questions.
She did hope in all earnestness that Jennifer did not notice her awkward behavior that day. But then, she did gawk at the tattoo for quite a while back then.
“I’m a total crud!”, she reprimanded herself.
It is said that a mind that ponders too much is only better than a mind that ponders too much and is all alone. Tara was in a bad place. She had worries of her own: A past that just wouldn’t give up, no one to talk to and to top it off, a big firm to run.
Grave thoughts came to her like mice to cheese, and almost immediately, she imagined the worst. Her world, which she had so painfully pieced together, and to which she was so frantically trying to hold onto, was shattering to pieces. And all because of a few wrong decisions she had taken when she was too young to take any. What sort of a cruel quid pro quo of life was that?
Questions and more questions with more profound thoughts concocted a cocktail of despair in her mind, and soon enough Tara looked only but a shadow of her confident self that the world knew so well. Depressed and distressed , she slumped to her chair, as thoughts engulfed her…
Shekhar: “Look at all these bundles of joy!”
Tara: “You fit right in…”
Shekhar: “Oh don’t be such a snob, this is a big decision, a big HAPPY decision.”
Tara: “Which I have agreed to.”
Shekhar: “After a great deal of nagging and persuasion that is. Never mind, take a look at this cheeky little so and so! Tugging on my pants!”
Shekhar picked up the little devil that had been shadowing him the minute they had entered the room and put her right on Tara’s face.
Shekhar: “Isn’t she the cutest thing ever!?”
And it was done. Tara was in a hurry to finish up the paperwork for the adoption. Meeting and whole lot of appointments awaited her at work, and this couldn’t take more time than it already had.
She stood completing the formalities when she saw her husband teaching their would-be daughter how to do the chicken dance.
And at long last, the stiff, grim face eased, and let loose a smile. “Maybe, this is the answer. Maybe, this is my family….”, she thought.
Roohi, they called her here at the orphanage.
A cacophony of notifications brought Tara back out of her thoughts. She brought herself back to earth, and steeled her resolve. “No. Not this easily. Not after coming all this way.” She decided to allow Jennifer one more appointment, although she had earlier impulsively decided to shun the request, but changed her mind, for that could have led to questions in Jennifer’s mind.
Hesitantly, she pressed the intercom and before her resolve could go away, told her secretary, “Give her an appointment for next week .But only for an hour. An hour and no more.”
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