When the meeting was over, Amira instantly went over to Samreen’s desk. She was there, punching down on keyboard keys and munching on some cookies.
“Samreen, I couldn’t find the draft on my table, can you please show me where is it?” she pressed consequentially.
“Sure” she said, wiping off her mouth with her hand and standing up, she followed Amira.
She started looking around on the table, Amira stood near, a stern expression on her face.
“I really did put it here….” Samreen sounded worried. “Maybe someone from the department took it?” she suggested.
“I don’t know, I will have to check. Please do ask around. Thanks.” Amira left sick worried.
She started asking around in the department, there was no sign of it, everyone claimed to have not seen it.
What do I do? What the hell do I do?
She tried to focus on her work but could not. Staring at the text version on the screen, she decided to finish it atleast. After giving it half an hour, she rendered a print command and went to the print room. Standing beside the printer waiting for her documents, her eyes suddenly set on the bin at the corner, something similar was peeking out of the bin.
HOLY COW! That’s my draft! Who the hell………!
She lunged towards the bin and retrieved her possession.
Ahhhh!! Thank God!
She hugged the copy.
Walking back, her mind filled with questions, a wave of anger bubbling inside her, she sat on her desk. Taking a deep breath, she started working.
She was forgetting something. There was a business in print room, in fact the photocopy machine was what she needed. After today, she couldn’t afford to repeat the same mistakes again.
During the next week, Amira didn’t find time to breathe. The deadline for Amr Bank’s project was near. She also had another meeting with Murad in which they had discussed the final drafts.
The next week was the implementation phase, the advertisement hit quite a number of traffic and was an overall success.
Kamran announced a lunch for the department as there had been no lunch for a long time and also that their project with Amr Bank went well. This was the first informal lunch for Amira and she was a bit perplexed. Or maybe something just didn’t feel right. As they sat around and started eating, Kamal began talking.
“So guys, which food is your favorite?” he said looking at everyone.
“Biryani, ofcourse.” said Nabeel. “Prepared by my mom.”
“I love Mediterranean.” said Samreen munching on her salad.
“Umm…I love sea food.” It was Amira.
“But sea food is really expensive in Pakistan,” Samreen sneered.
Everyone looked at Samreen and Amira.
“Yes unfortunately.” Amira answered concisely.
“No I mean, you love something that is expensive and not all types of sea food are available in Pakistan, so how did you come to love it?” Samreen was clearly trying to offend her.
I could say the same for you, about your fancy Mediterranean choice.
No one spoke, no one tried to change the topic. It was as if every one was enjoying as the story built up.
“Umm…let’s say I have had a lot of national and international accounts with sea food and have tried almost every kind, hence developed an interest.” Amira knew where to strike, but this called for adding fuel to Samreen’s jealousy/hatred or whatever it was. But surprisingly she nodded and started eating again.
Kamran’s expressions were that of surprise. After realizing what had happened, he quickly asked Gohar about his favorite dish.
Amira was trying hard to stay calm and didn’t look at anyone else throughout the rest of the time. She decided right then and there that Samreen was going to be on her avoid list from now on. Unfortunately it wasn’t easy to avoid her because as a copy writer, she had to deal with proof-reader occasionally and also their cubicles were not so far away.