MARYUM AASAN, TELECOM BITCH -- PART VII -- THE CAREER END
"Oye randi, idhar bhi toh kabhi apnay jalway zahir kyun nahin kar deyti? (Yo whore, why do you not let us see your assets sometimes too?)," the words rang through my mind as I completed the long trek from the main gate, via the administration building and finally to the new office block. As if things were not bad enough for me at PT&WC since the fallout from the recent investigation, the entire Commercial Division was moved from our isolated location, at the other end of the city, right into the middle of the main office complex. And in less than a day my hopes, that people in this area would not know about my indiscretions, were dashed by the vulgar comment from a mere company bus driver who was idling by his vehicle near the entrance. What was infinitely worse was the roar of laughter and added hooting from the dozen or more junior grade employees who were within earshot. Rather than anyone coming to defend an attack on a female, something that would automatically happen in a country like Pakistan, instead the crowd all participated in destroying any shred of respect that I may have hoped was left.
It was naïve of me to expect with all the indiscretions on my part, that I would be treated in a better manner. I was now a fallen woman and any friends that I may have had at the company were careful about being seen anywhere around me. IQ had been transferred back and Munafik was expecting to move within weeks. Their replacements had not been announced and so I could not fall back on to the goodness of my foreigner friends or lovers. Any local managers, who had sampled my treats, had been fired, had left on their own, or did not seem to recognize me. Mr. Jameel was no longer around and the new GM, Mr. Rana, who had replaced Haramoon, was throwing his weight around, as the acting section head of the Wireless team, even though he did not have VP level rank or a tenth of Mr. Jameel's intellect.
II
"Maryum, we are rationalizing staff strength in the Wireless team," Mr. Rana let me know first thing on a Friday, "you have the option of joining the Customer Care team or leaving the company."
The business had imploded since the departure of Mr. Jameel, and was sputtering at about a tenth of its volume. One way the new owners had figured to keep heads above water was to lay off a large number of employees. While the major impact of the privatization was on the main land line business, Mr. Rana had found a suitable way to get me out of his team. He had rightly judged that I had played a role in bringing down the fort for Mr. Jameel and then Haramoon, and that it was much better for him if I was sent packing or elsewhere.
"But Rana Sahib, surely I have been a productive employee," I implored.
"Maybe you have, since my arrival," he agreed, "but your misadventures of days past keep coming back to life."
"Mr. Rana, are you sure there is no way I can stay in this team," I tried another tack while noticeably bending forward so he could get a sight of my boobs, "surely I could do something or the other for you?"
"Maryum, let's be clear, first of all I have no interest in any of the girls in the department or company," he sternly made sure I got the point, "and most of all why would I want to be with someone like you who may be carrying unknown diseases from all the people you have fucked!"
If he had slapped me in the face, in the middle of the conference room during a seminar, the hurt would have been much less than the barbs from his very pointed comments.
My time at the Wireless team was done, but he had not found a way to get me out of PT&WC. Although my foreign lover and boss were no longer in the picture, people were still wary of crossing my path more than they had to. I would have to find a way to fix Mr. Rana. I wondered why someone like him, neither having the former VP's work or education pedigree nor his hot wife, had not fallen for my wiles. I was not surprised when I learned, from one of the secretaries in another department, that despite his very professional demeanour in the office and overtly heterosexual attitudes, the guy was devotedly homosexual and still in a relationship with a gay Senior VP from the prior management team.
III
"Hi Maryum, let me welcome you to the Customer Care team," Mr. Zaleel Kibriya sounded genuine and it was certainly not what I had expected to hear on arriving at my new department.
"I look forward to contributing in whatever way is possible for me," I tried to sound equally eager to join.
"That's good," he seemed happy, "I am sure we can put you to good use."
Mr. Zaleel was one of those oft present ass-kissers who had made it up to the level he was by brown nosing the previous CEO constantly. Often seen in front of the CEO's office before the man even arrived and also the last to see him out, he had survived on bootlicking to the extreme. His luck seemed to have run out, however, with the privatization as the new head man did not quite relate to his way of things and preferred results over flattery. Still, given that there were many other targets for the new management, he was slipping under the radar and managing to stay around.
I had my job and the fear of being sent back to Abbotabad began to recede fast in my mind as Mr. Zaleel asked one of his managers to show me to my desk.
Unfortunately it came roaring back as I was shown into a bullpen of sorts that had a dozen desks, with all but one occupied by men in local dress and Taliban style beards. The situation was made even more awkward by the fact that I had decided on wearing a sleeveless kameez that revealed a lot more female skin than any of them had probably seen in their lifetimes.
Before long the guys began to circle my work area checking out my attire and causing my body to tense. "Dekho uskey mammay kitney nokilay hein (Check out how pointed her tits are)," one of the guys who had just gone by commented to his friend who had almost sided up to me. Many of the group started to laugh at the rude statement.
As I began to turn beet red, an older guy came on over to the fellow who had just insulted me. In a flash he was holding his collar in one hand and slapping him a number of times with the other. Tossing the victim aside to one corner, he turned to the others and announced, "If I ever hear another person make a comment about this girl, I will cut his balls off right here and feed them to the rest of you!"
I could not believe what had happened and accepted my saviour's comforting arm on my shoulder and back. "They will not bother you again," he assured me and returned to his desk, which was inside a small office to one side.
As the office cleared out over the lunch hour, I was happy to see that the gentleman was still around. "Thank you for your help, uncle," I went over and offered my gratitude.
"It is okay, young lady, and you can call me Afshar," he replied, giving me his name, "I am the Customer Services Manager on the Wireless business and can relate to your troubles."
"I am in your debt," I let him know and got a fatherly smile back. Maybe things would work out just fine.
IV
"What's all this stuff on the table?" I queried Naila upon returning to my hostel. There appeared to be dozens of packages of what appeared to be new clothing, shoes and such.
"Sweetheart, my father has accepted the proposal from a friend's son to be my husband," she knocked me off my feet, "these are some of the gifts that have been sent over."
"When is this happening?" I stammered, not willing to comprehend that my one constant in life was soon to end with her marriage and departure.
"I have submitted my resignation and will be leaving for home on Saturday," she advised me with teary eyes. That was just a few days away.
