The girl wakes up in the middle of the night. Sweating. In panic. Scared. She looks around, but a blanket of darkness is all she sees. She tries feeling the bed next to her. It's empty. Wondering where he was, she switched on the light. She slowly gets up from bed and searches for him. She walks around into the next room and finds him there. He was sleeping. It is dark. At first she sees only him. Sleeping like his usual self with one hand over his tummy, mouth open and leg crooked. She smiles and goes over to him, hoping to sleep on his arm. But as she draws closer, she notices that he isn't alone. There is someone else next to him. She rubs her eyes to make sure she isn't dreaming. She wasn't. There was someone else there. His arm is around her. She sleeps next to him. There is nothing wrong with the way they sleep. But she feels uneasy. As if she was intruding on a personal moment. She wants to run away. At first she thinks "He wouldn't cheat on me, would he? Not in the open, like this? He would be more discreet, right?". Thoughts run through her mind. "Where did this girl come from? Why is she sleeping on his arm? Why isn't he on their bed? Why? Why? Why?" So many questions. She tries to think nothing more. She goes back to her bedroom. After a lot of thought and twisting and turning, she drifts off.

She tries talking to him. About what she saw. But he couldn't talk. He never had the time. Talking was never his fortè. She tries to get him alone. Just to talk. He was always surrounded by people. Sometimes friends. Sometimes strangers. She could never fit into his crowd. Always alone in a sea of people.

She finally gets him to talk. But then, she couldn't ask him about 'her'. She feels worried that this would cause unnecessary trouble. She wonders if she is overreacting. Maybe they were just sleeping. Maybe she was seeing things. Maybe it was a nightmare. So she shuts herself up and smiles, like her usual self.

She keeps silent.

Never speaking up.

One day, she breaks.

She screams.

All hell breaks loose.

She walks out. He lets her.

Still hoping he will come for her, she waits. But he doesn't come.

...

This was a year ago. She wakes up now with a smile on her face and a skip in her step. She likes waking up early now. She makes coffee. Full milk. Just like she likes it. She waters her plants and talks to them. She reads her favourite book.

Glancing at the clock, she notices that it's late. She can't be late today. It's a special day. So she goes and puts on her favourite dress. The one she had gifted herself on her last birthday. She wears the ring that her mother gifted her on turning 17. She does her hair and makeup. She decides to wear a bold lip which wasn't her usual shade, because it is her special day.

She is finally ready. She grabs her bag and runs out the door. But she forgets her keys, so she runs back to grab them. Just as she leaves she glances around her clean and beautiful home. She smiles as she remembers how it used to be. How she was never able to think straight with all the mess around her. She runs her hands through her hair while locking the door.

She walks to her car. The red beauty waits for her, gleaming due to her last wash. She gets in and takes a deep breath.

"Let's do this", she breathes. This is the day that she is getting divorced. One more signature and she would be free.  Free from all the expectations, misunderstandings and meaningless discussions. Free from a loveless marriage.

This is the first day of the rest of her life.

An MBA wasn’t a thing I was really interested in, money was. With hope in my eyes I reached the place to give my PI.

I felt a little out of place in my formal shirt and formal pants. The room was filled with future CEO’s(?) in suit and tie, looking fresh to lead a company. In the mid of April, especially changing two buses to get to the destination, suit and tie was not exactly my idea of the perfect attire. I was very wrong.

There was this fat guy, he seemed like some PR guy, preparing to give some speech.

Now thank god I listened to him carefully because this guy had made the most sense than anyone will ever make in my entire life.

“The Great River Management college is not just a college, it’s more like a charitable institution. We don’t believe in making profits. We care about the society, the people that’s why we have launched a new programme ‘Paropakara’ where we want everyone to spend a week in a village, help the people around there, experience what they go through, see the ambience of the village and get acquainted to their food habits.”

“We at this institution believe in equality for all, talent is the only criterion for us. Nothing else stands in the way.”

We were handed the brochure.
Fees for one year MBA – 25 lakhs.

‘The Great River Management college is not just a college, it’s more like a charitable institution’

I scanned through.
For those who can’t afford, (my eyes lit up for the first time that day) we provide a special loan exclusively by the college, with an interest of 15% P.A.

‘We don’t believe in making profits’

Hopelessly I turned the page. It was greeted with an eye-catching veneer of tricolor painted on the whole page, boldly written ; Paropakara.
Paropakara, a program to get the students acquainted with the finer nuances of the village life and what people go through it.
And a lot of hopeful bullshit followed.

Whenever handed a brochure my eyes tend to always spot the numerical value in the page.
1.5 lakh for one week stay.

‘we want everyone to spend a week in the village’

The stay will be enjoyable with regular sightseeing, joyride etc.

‘help the people around there’

Accommodation will be provided in a hotel equivalent to 3 star facilities.

‘experience what they go through’

Safety is our main concern so mineral water and hygienic food with different cuisines will be provided.

‘see the ambience of the village and get acquainted with their food habits.’

The fat person really made a lot of sense.

My interview would have been the shortest.
“Is that what you wear for a B-school interview?”
The interviewer thundered. By his tone it seemed he had donated his most expensive suit to me and I sold it for half price and came without wearing it.
“Sorry”
Of all the meaningless ‘sorry’ in my life this would easily take the first place.

“What sorry, is that what you think is the worth of this college?”
Same tone.

‘We at this institution believe in equality for all, talent is the only criterion for us. Nothing else stands in the way.’

Ahh that bloody fat man.

“Now sit down and lets proceed”
Still same tone.

I walked away, as my eyes lit up for the second time.