I really don’t care.Īnyway, I’m a call-center agent. If you want, you can give me another name, too. American tongues have trouble saying my real name and prefer Sam. Besides, there was a serious risk of Bakshi making a comeback in my dreams.īy the way, I am Shyam Mehra, or Sam Marcy as they call me at my workplace, the Connections call center in Gurgaon. I was still tired, but afraid of staying in bed any longer in case I was late. Qualis was the make of car that picked us all up individually and drove us together to the center. “Man, the Qualis will be here in twenty minutes,” I thought, digging matter out of my eye. I would have loved to analyze my dream and its significance in my insignificant life, but I had to get dressed for work. surrounded by little bells flashing on the screen. I squinted through a half-shut eye to see 8:32 p.m. The ring tone was a gift from Shefali, my new semi-girlfriend.
My nightmare ended as my cellphone alarm rang hard in my left ear and I woke up to its “Last Christmas” ring tone. Salt water was filling my mouth and nostrils when I heard loud beeps in the distance.
I screamed as Bakshi used both his hands to keep my head submerged.
I saw Priyanka drifting away in a lifeboat. He was pushing my head down in the water. While I was in the water, my boss Bakshi was in a boat next to me. I can’t even swim in a pond, let alone in the Indian Ocean. I was splashing my hands helplessly in the sea.
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