The Masterpiece

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...continued from Part1

As his PDA buzzed to life at five in the morning, to signal the start of his hectic routine, he woke up from that recurring dream that he had been having ever since he had been awarded 'The Most Promising Young Talent' of the year award by a prestigious design magazine. "Symbolising the fact that we were the first to spot the talent that is Abhay Shankar", read the sparkling platinum trophy that decorated his living room shelf. He looked at it everyday, the first thing he did morning after morning after morning, his inspiration for a long day's work, which, of late had come to be more of a dull routine than something he had always enjoyed doing, something for which he had had even fought his parents, when deciding a career, not that they were not proud of him now. "That's my son", said a beaming Kailash Shankar when his son was giving the customary thank you speech, at the awards ceremony, but did not mention his parents or anybody else for that matter, the self made man that he thought he was. But even then, it was a humble speech. And that was where the greatness of the man lied, his humility. He had been, humble enough to let his boss walk away with the credits, when he knew that a bit of proof and pestering could have lead to his ouster and his elevation to the top post in the company. But, that was not how he had come so far, and this was no time, he thought, to opt for petty shortcuts.

As he went on with his daily routine of yoga and pranayam, the day's appointments were shuffling through his mind, the visit to the site, where work was half complete, on a building he had designed. That could well have been his masterpiece, had he run into a more ambitious and more importantly, resourceful client, but that was not to be. The visit to the annual function at the destitute children school, whose expenses he had been partially financing from some time and then a visit to Dr. Mehra, the physician nominated by his company to check on their employees health every once in a while, mandatorily. He never had it easy with doctors, and Dr. Mehra, with his philosophical ways, was even more of a nuisance. The last time he had met him, they had run into an argument regarding health and life. Abhay, the mathematician he was, stating life was directly proportional to health, which he thought was a good enough index when it came to describing himself. But, Dr. Mehra, the physician that he was, simply negating his theories with his illustrious thoughts on karma and other crap, accoording to Abahy that is. But, he brought the discussion to a dead silence when he had said that Abahy might never get to see him again.

"Hehe. Got you. I meant it could be either of us, I might never see another patient the moment you leave my clinic, or the other way round, you might never design another building." That eased his nerves a little for the moment. For, he had in fact been caught off guard. But he was hail and hearty, and as fate would have had it, so was Dr. Mehra, and he had been fixed for another rendezvous with the 'philosopher physician'.

Gathering his wits back, from the remembrances of the last meeting, he proceeded to get dressed for the day ahead. Site visits were his favourite occasions for more than one reason. He got to see his dreams coming to life, in the form of brick and mortar, and oddly enough, he could dress up in casuals for the day, something he had always longed for, ever since he had come out of college.

And the later half of the day, which he had all to himself, and very queerly had come to long for from the past one year, though he had never been particularly fond of kids and their ways.

He heard the SUV being driven into the porch by his driver, as he left home for another day at work.


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