Ms Haps gets fired

Dear Ms. Pen,

You help me weave worlds, Ms. Pen. In various forms. Be it, a life-still in my sketchbook, a thought(less)-doodle in my notepad, or words in my journal. And, you multitask while at it too. Creator. Counselor. Confidante. Clever companion. So much so that a website dropped me a message, requesting that I share our creations with them.

Which is why, when a few peachy rays from Monday's sun decided to graze my face, the first question to greet my semi-awoken brain cells was “What statement might we be making today?” And I got my answer barely two minutes after I'd logged into my mobile phone for a glimpse of the day's Google news feed. When an text notification icon popped up onscreen.

"Morning,
Meet me at Jazz cafe. 9:30."
Was the entirety of the email. Ordinarily, his shortest texts would be twice as long as that. Aye, I knew what was coming at 9:30.

Anyhow, I continued browsing through the rest of the news feed, in no immediate rush to gobble down a breakfast that’d taken me all of 15 minutes to make. On that note, I must confess that I found the notes on ‘Green economy’ from the G8 2019 summit, remarkably similar to those that I’d read from the summit a year ago. (Cue - dramatic eye roll). At least G7 summit had a section on gender equality issues!

Half-an-hour and an invigorating shower later, I was mulling between my choice of perfumes - Issey Miyake or Givenchy. My fingers eventually swooped up the Miyake. Only because he’d told me a few times that the womanly undertones of Givenchy drove him wild whenever he dug into my skin. And I did not want him thinking I was trying to impress him back.

Streets of Male’ had donned their vibrant morning gown of greens, blues and oranges, the fringes vigorously bustling with the chitter chatter of people and vehicles. I spotted little Aneesa, waving out to me from her dad’s shop. ‘Pretty’ was the first emotion that flitted past my mind, seeing how her smiles were brimming with girlish glee. And I supposed her spirits owed their extra layer of effervescence to the fresh pair of sparkling studs in her ears - she’d had her ears pierced over the weekend. (A quick mental note - get her something shiny and dangly for her upcoming birthday.)

It was 9:53 when I slipped into the quieter by lane approaching the Jazz cafe. Yes, I was late. I knew I’d be late even as I left home - a personal barrier called pride wouldn’t let me get to the cafe on time, lest it seemed like I was at anyone’s beck and call. So what if the person in question was my boss? Why, I’d even stopped by to purchase a new sketchbook in a stationery store. Purple cover. Embossed flowers. 210 gsm paper made in support of the Water Aid charity. It was love at first sight.

An image of 21-year-old Ms Haps. Most women would make an effort to look good for their boyfriends and lovers. Probably try and look their absolute best, when it came to meeting with soon-to-be ex-lovers.

Holding my tote close to my waist, and with the brand new sketchbook sitting proudly in my left arm, I stopped in front of the glass door, stealing a short glimpse of the reflection on it. An image of 21-year-old Ms Haps. Most women would make an effort to look good for their boyfriends and lovers. Probably try and look their absolute best, when it came to meeting with soon-to-be ex-lovers. With my wild hair rolled up into a messy bun, a dull orange blouse, and no makeup whatsoever, I wondered if I was making an effort to seem like I’d made no effort at all.

A deep breath later, I stepped into the rustic-chic interiors of the cafe. Heavy tables. Modernist art. Wooden chairs. Sigh, I loved the ambience of this eatery just as much as the roast & ground house-blend they served. A second later, I spotted him at a far corner. He greeted me with a brusque nod, dressing up his flustered frown with a formal smile, while his fingers fidgeted with his watch.

Yes, he was a charmer in his late thirties, despite the first spray of grey along his hairline. But no - he was neither the most handsome man I’d dated, nor the most selfless lover in bed. If anything, he could be a real asshole, when things didn’t go his way! So, I hardly had any attachment to him. Besides, a disconnect had been looming over the horizon of our affair for quite a while now - what with his demeanor having markedly shifted from how it’d been at the start, 5 months ago.
“You’re late! Anyway, this has to end. Today! Please empty your desk by the end of this evening. Sorry, but I’m left with little choice!” he’d fumed - by the end of which, I gave him no response beyond the sly smirk on my lips.

“What happened? Wife found out? Asked that I be kicked out?” were a few queries I was tempted to quip aloud. But I was sensible enough to keep my impulses in check, as he subsequently walked out on me. True, there was a time I might have enjoyed his stimulating debates. I had no complaints about his propensity to wine and dine me either. Ultimately, however, the affair was nothing beyond a means for a basic need - of human touch, of having someone warm inside me. And parting ways was neither a new journey for me, nor a lonesome one. For I was certain that soon enough, a few junctures on, another man would hop along, and ask to be my fellow-traveler.

For I was certain that soon enough, a few junctures on, another man would hop along, and ask to be my fellow-traveler.

Once alone, I decided to treat my taste buds to the roast & ground house-blend. And it was when I sat there, sipping on my brew, that I realized I could turn this hurdle into a stepping stone. Use the opportunity to concentrate on developing my blog fulltime. Probably take up sketching more seriously too.

The evening had a more pleasant drift about it, especially once I’d finished emptying my desk.

However, the best part of this Monday was the last part of it. As I plonked on my cane chair in the terrace, I noticed that the bird feeder on which I’d spent my evenings over the past week or so, had finally borne fruit. A pigeon had found its way to my terrace, to peck at the rice that’d been laid out in it. And somehow, lounging by myself beneath the starlit skies, witnessing an unexpected happy ending, must have precipitated a few unspent emotions. For, I was blinking away the mist from my lashes, while gazing at my lone companion.

So, Ms. Pen, what do you think they’d have to say about the Monday we created today?

Ms. Haps gets fired