They trusted her. Completely! Ever since she had walked in the door, their quest for the perfect person to run their fashion house seemed to end. The persona, the bearing, the meticulously draped saree; with the pleats beginning fashionably around her thin abdomen, the back of the blouse scooped out, seeming almost backless, with her shoulder blades and scrawny back leaving nothing to the imagination and the pallu perfectly pleated and pinned up.
The hair was perfectly coiffured, with the ends curled outward, a style from the seventies, the only indication of age on the frame. Tanya Fernandes! A head turner and sharp to the core. Efficiency personified. She proved them right. The ‘House of Sharmas’ carved a niche for itself with an elite clientele.
The presence was felt in every capital around the world and designers clamoured to intern at the stylish address. Rake thin models cavorted and cartwheeled in and out. The vendors fell over themselves to get some orders, no need of any advertisement then for the penny pinchers, always ready to cut corners.
One dark and grey morning, when the clouds promised to drench the city till it drowned, a coffee-coloured Merc silently purred to a halt outside the chrome and glass building. A turbaned and liveried, tall robust man ran to open the rear door. But a petite, bubbling, teenager jumped out of the driver’s seat. She threw the keys recklessly towards the Durban saying, ‘Park kar dijiye’. Waltzing into the fancy store in her ripped jeans, sporting some fancy brand, topped with a figure-hugging white tee, her beauty took the breath away. Tanya saw her on the inhouse security camera. ‘Perfect kid!’ she murmured as she smoothed her pencil skirt and walked towards the inner section. Private rooms to show case select designs for the rich (and not so famous) clients. She called her assistant, Meenu to ensure the right selection of food and drinks were served throughout. A happy stomach ensured a happy client which led to good sales.
The young girl was sure she would get the perfect dress for her stepmom- to- be. She wanted to surprise the lady who filled her father’s heart with love and life with joy. One of the sales assistants guided her towards a comfortable yet stylish leather couch. “Good morning Ma’am! How can I help you?” piped Tanya.
“Good morning! I am looking for your best creation! Don’t worry about the cost!”
“Sure! For you or someone else, Ma’am?”
“My mom actually… something elegant, yet stylish… something beautiful yet understated… just like her!” she chirped.
“OK! Get us the Sabyasachi in onion pink, the Tarun Tahiliani in white and the Ritu Kumar in pale yellow.”
“Not white please, although it would become her, its for her wedding… something colourful.”
The professional didn’t allow any questions to appear on her face or voice… but it jolted her heart.
The assistants ran in with a rack of the most alluring sarees and lehengas, salwar kameez to dresses. Carefully crafted, exotically designed, visual treats even to the untrained eyes. Row upon row of Silks, velvets, tissue, organza embellished with pearls, mother of pearl, crystal and what looked like emeralds and rubies too.
Meenu brought in an assortment of green tea, coffee, tender coconut water, wine in the most beautiful cups and glasses. The young girl took a look and laughingly asked for some Sprite. Which was served immediately with a smile.
She couldn’t help but notice the beautiful deep eyes, the wide smiling mouth, and the perky nose… reminded her of someone… she couldn’t quite place. It was as if she had met her before. Shirking off the feeling, she got busy.
Where did the morning go? Wondered Tanya as she looked at her client. She had shortlisted two creations from Sabyasachi, one from Abu Jani and one from Ritu Kumar. What a lucky lady who had such a thoughtful child.
Her mind strayed off to the past when she was much younger, playing with her daughter. Laughing… yet admonishing her for not sitting properly, not wearing the accessories matched by her. And her husband… always encouraging the child. How she had hated the interference.
When had things blown out of proportion, she couldn’t say… but it ended up in separation and divorce. He had been a promising entrepreneur… his exporting business of art and artefacts was getting a good response.
Her struggles began in earnest. It was a lonely life bereft of the company of her dearest daughter. Nobody yielded to her tears, outbursts, or pleas. Her discipline and focus alone helped. Slowly but steadily, she climbed up the corporate world and her present employment was a dream job.
Yet she was reminded of her daughter… would she also select a wedding dress for her?
Shoving the thought from her mind, she put on a bright smile and asked the girl to try out the dresses herself or ask the lady in question.
“Good idea!”
“Hey Dad! Can you and Shaila come over to The House of Sharma’s?” ….
“I have selected a few fabulous dresses for her and I cant make up my mind which one to select for the wedding!… No, no, we need to select today itself. I have so many other things to tackle… I am just 22… remember?” she laughed.
Twenty two… that’s how old Raima would be too!
“Excuse me… can we wait for some time… my parents will join in soon to finalise the purchase.”
“But of course! I thought you were buying a dress for your mom for her wedding… I am getting confused.”
“HA! HA! HA! Yeah, it is… My father’s second marriage.”
“Congratulations! It must be good to have a mom… I could not help but notice your joy!”
“ Yes, it is… specially when I see the love, she showers on my father… unconditional love …”
“May I share a secret with you? My birth Mom was quite a tyrant you know. She neither loved me nor my father… She walked out on us! I don’t know why I am telling you all this… but I feel you will safeguard my secret.”
“Yes, of course dear! I too have a daughter nearly your age. But I haven’t seen her ever since I received my divorce. She was my world. I wanted to be the best parent in the world, teaching, correcting and even reprimanding her when required. My husband who was rarely there was the good parent… just indulging.”
Seeing the tear trickle down, the girl instinctively reached out and hugged her. The impulsive act of warmth, understanding or can we call it love, seemed to bring solace to Tanya as she felt her heart filled with the maternal affection locked away for years. Shocked by her own unprofessional behaviour, she excused herself and thanked the young lady profusely for her understanding and spontaneity.
She walked to her office, instructing Meenu to order some lunch for the young lady.
While it rained outside, the clouds of turmoil wreathed in her heart. What had this young lady done? She had opened the cans of locked memory without any warning. Her heart bled as her eyes silently streamed torrents. It was difficult to say whose heart was more pained, the clouds or the woman.
Meenu came in with some lunch for Tanya too, in a short while. “Are you Ok Ma’am?” she was shocked to see her boss in the throes of emotion, very obviously she had been sobbing, her mascara running down her cheeks and lipstick smeared. Unbelievable! She offered her some tissues and quietly left the room.
Pulling herself together, Tanya spruced up, applied fresh makeup and walked towards her waiting client. Laughter tinkling punctuated the conversation which was not audible… “Oh Dad!…” “Yes Khushi Mehra, your father Harish Mehra is indeed very proud of you! What say Shaila?”
Stunned she stopped midstep… there stood her ex husband, with his wife to be and their daughter… Khushi!
And Meenu caught the images of her boss and the client, and the uncanny resemblance. How blind had she been.
