She blinked, pulled back into the present.
“Yes?”
“The hospital liaison call,” her colleague reminded her. “In ten minutes.”
“I’ll be there,” she said, already reaching for her notepad.
Whenever thoughts of her past bothered her, made her weak, work always came to her rescue. And she was grateful.
By noon, Mishti had chaired two meetings, approved three emergency funds, and personally handled a distressed mother who refused to speak to anyone else but Mishti, who listened. She did not rush. She did not offer empty reassurance. And when the woman finally left, calmer, Mishti prayed for her. Just like she still prayed for everyone else. That was one thing that hadn’t stopped, and it never would.
As the day moved forward, she moved with it. Assigning tasks. Approving resources. Listening more than she spoke. Work resumed, and noise filled the space again.
****************
By evening, the office began to empty. Lights switched off one by one. Outside, London glowed in muted golds and greys. But Mishti remained at her desk, reviewing reports.
When done, she finally stood, picking up her bag, switching off the light in her cabin and stepping into the corridor, where she saw the lights of her boss’s cabin glowing.
‘VK’, as everyone addressed him here, was a fifty-six-year-old Indian man who had been settled in London for decades. He came from a wealthy legacy and owned several businesses across the city. Nearly five years ago, he had founded this NGO and had been running it with dedication and remarkable efficiency ever since.
Before leaving the building, she decided to check on him once and walked up to his office. She knocked lightly and pushed the door open only after hearing his voice.
“Come in.”
VK was standing near his desk, reading through a file, with his glasses perched low on his nose. He looked up the moment he saw her.
“Still here?” he asked, not surprised. “You realise I like it when my staff leave work on time, right?”
Mishti smiled faintly. “I know. But someone had to make sure the shelter allocation list doesn’t collapse by morning. I was just reviewing those details.”
He chuckled. “Ah, Mishti.” He kept the file down. “You run this place better than I do.”
“That’s not true,” she said, walking in. “But I love working here. Gives me the peace I always sought.”
VK just stared at her with soft concern. Seeing her lost like this, in her own world, probably her past, wasn’t new to him.
“Anyways.” Mishti composed herself, coming out of her thoughts. “I’ve just finalised the hospital tie-up for the women admitted today. Two have agreed to keep the beds reserved till morning. And the legal aid team will meet the new intake first thing tomorrow.”
VK nodded. “Good. Very good.” He paused, then looked at her again. “You’ve been handling a lot lately, Mishti. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it?”
“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, smiling again.
VK was her boss here, but the role never ended there.
There was a warmth to him. He was protective without being overbearing, fatherly without intrusion. And his affection for her felt natural. And at times, it stung Mishti quietly, because it reminded her of the family she never really had.
“Alright, what about dinner?” he asked. “Any special plans for when you get backhome?”
The question was simple. And yet, something inside her tightened.Home.The studio was just a place where she lived. It couldn’t become her home yet.
“I…I’ll probably heat something quick,” she said evenly. “Nothing special.”
VK nodded, but there was a concern in his eyes again. “You shouldn’t eat alone every night. Why don’t you join us for dinner sometimes? You know I would love that.”
She gave him a polite smile. “Thanks, boss. But I’m used to it.”
Before he could say anything more, the door swung open again.
