Fatima Ansar.

The first time I ever came across this name was on the thirty first of October in 2022. When I read her name, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. As if it was a name I had known in one of my past lives. Back then, I did not know what she would mean to me. Her name was just one of hundreds of applicants whose resume sat on my desk. It was a piece of paper that held the fate for hers and my next two years. But I was completely oblivious to it.

• ‘Business party at ten tonight.’ 

My phone lit up with a text message from my assistant, Stacy. I did not respond to her immediately. Staring at the text on my phone screen, I couldn’t help but frown. I was feeling mildly irritated for all the persistent parties that kept coming one after another. These were one of the main ways I could find potential investors for my company. I ran a social media app development company called ConnectEx through which I’d already made a bunch of successful apps for communication between people living in the diaspora. Our company was growing exponentially. For the last nearly five years, I had focused on nothing but that in my life.

Back in college and university days I used to be a very social person. I was always the life of the party in every room. Being extraverted helped me network in business, excel in all sorts of ways. But with growing years, I was beginning to find loud crowds of people annoying. I could not mingle with people the way I used to. 

I realized that the quality of people present in my life mattered more to me than the quantity. And I did not enjoy being around people who couldn’t match my intellect and wit in a conversation. 

‘Our boy is a born genius! He excels at everything he does,’ these were the first few and ever so repetitive sentences that I heard growing old from my doting relatives.

 They weren’t my biological parents but close relatives that raised me after my own parents died in a car crash in my childhood. Growing old, I was told I was smarter than the people that were around the same age as I was. I could get along with anyone I wanted to but I did not enjoy talking to everyone. Not unless they were on the same mental wavelength as I was. 

I glanced at the pile of responses against my job post and decided to get to them. Staring at them, I made the decision to go through with selecting potential remote employees rather than going to the party. At that time I did not know at all what was going to be the weight of my choice.

   It was 9am in San Francisco. I was having a cup of tea that I had conjured up myself. Sometimes, I missed my aunt back in Delhi. Nothing could compare to the warm, sizzling smell of a paratha that came from the stove to your plate. My aunt had always been even more affectionate with me than she was with her children.

    I stared outside my balcony. From a distance, I could stare at the beautiful mountains that surrounded San Jose. It had been a while since I hiked. It was time to get out there and be active again. 

   Ting.

   A notification popped up on my laptop. I glanced at the open screen from a distance. Fatima Ansar sent you a message.

   I had scheduled her interview in the morning because she was not from here. She was actually from Pakistan. A country that I was much familiar with due to the political history India had with them. Pakistan once used to be a part of India. But it separated and the animosity and enmity between the two states did not end after the separation. In fact, it only grew with time.

    I opened the screen and sat down on the rolling chair in front of my laptop. I had recently renovated my home office because of the amount of remote work I had recently taken on. We were looking to expand our reach in countries like India, Pakistan, Philippines where the biggest users of social media were present. 

   Someone belonging from those countries would be a good pick. And Fatima was one of the people I’d chosen. Not only did she have great credentials, her resume was also referred to and forwarded to me by one of my friends in the field, Mohsin who had studied in the same college as Fatima and used to be her senior during his MBA.

   I was sitting with my Zoom app open, waiting for her to join the call. I had heard the internet signals weren’t great in Pakistan so I waited patiently for her to connect to the call.

   I was taking another sip of my coffee when her screen popped up. I almost spilled the coffee because it was so abrupt. She was wearing a white satin shirt. It resembled something of a kurta. Kurta was a longer shirt that girls in India and Pakistan usually wore. A dupatta (sash) was hung on her shoulders. At first glance, she reminded me a little bit of Madhubala. An actress my father loved. She had a round face with wave hair that became about it. With round, almond-shaped eyes which reflected on the screen. 

    ‘Hello Fatima,’ I began talking as she was just awkwardly staring at me for a minute, ‘How are you doing? I assume it must be evening time there.’

    I couldn’t make out where she was sitting. Perhaps, it was a cafe. There was a glass door behind her which showed the sky outside. It was a navy-blue melancholic shade. 

     Fatima cleared her throat before speaking.

   ‘Hey, Ar- Arjun,’ it seemed like she had trouble saying my name, for she probably had never pronounced such a name before. Her voice came out a bit breathy and it had an instant feminine cadence to it that I often really enjoyed in a woman. 

   She seemed quite nervous as she continued to speak.

  ‘Yes, it is night here,’ she replied shortly. Her eyes did not meet mine as if she was scared to make eye contact. 

   I usually got easily bored or ticked off by people if they were unnecessarily shy but Fatima was clearly from a culture where women did not interact with men as boldly but I could only hope that she won’t let this be a hurdle in her professional persona.

  ‘So, Fatima,’ I began again in a friendlier tone, hoping it would encourage her, ‘You studied in LUMS. I hear it is very hard to get into and you studied on a scholarship. You did internships at reputable places. But after some time you didn’t immediately start working. There is a gap in your resume. Can you explain that?’

  I could see in Fatima’s strained expression that it was a difficult question for her. Perhaps, it reminded her of a difficult time.

  ‘So, what happened just as I was about to graduate was the COVID attack on Pakistan. Our country was not equipped to deal with it by any means. No one knew what the future held. And for some time, I was uncertain too-’

  ‘So, you gave up hope?’ I interjected. I knew this question would equally throw her off but I did not have room in my team for any quitters. She was applying for a demanding job that was going to require a lot of work from her. And I would need to know for sure that I could rely on her before I considered hiring.

   Fatima looked a little confused but shook her head.

  ‘No, it would have been illogical to give up then,’ she replied, ‘Actually, COVID restricted my ability to work . A few months after COVID, I started job hunting again.’

   At that moment, I was a little impressed with her articulation. She had not been able to speak as well before but she slowly found her footing. I could also emphasize with her. When COVID hit India, I had prior plans of seeing my family there after a while. But for months on end, I could not reach out to them except for an occasional remote call. It worried me to no end. But I still had separate business from business from emotions. That was my motto. I tried my best never to mix the both.

   Finding her more articulate and confident encouraged me to challenge her more.

  ‘I understand. COVID did impact many families and its detriment can not be denied. But unfortunately for you this means that you don’t have nearly as much experience as a company like ConnectEx would require. I need someone who at least has more than three years of experience. This is a high post for our upcoming project and whoever I end up hiring will be there in the next few projects too. Do you think you could be a reliable person for that role, Fatima?’

   For a minute she just stared at the screen as if the question had put her on spot. 

  I noticed that her eyes were quite expressive. Even from a screen, I could tell that her nervousness had returned but she was trying to combat it and give a good response.

  ‘Yes, I think you could rely on me,’ she began thoughtfully, ‘I know I have just begun out now. And only have had a few clients so it might feel like I am underqualified. But you don’t know how good I will be at work unless you give it a shot. If you don’t give me a chance, you might be potentially losing a quick-learner who’s reliable at work. You might think a more qualified person would do the job better but there is always a possibility that so can I.’

    I found a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. It was quite rare that someone made me genuinely smile. I found intelligence in people charming. When they could respond to things in a manner that was logical and rational rather than losing their ability to talk when they were emotional. 

    ‘Very well,’ I responded, satisfied with what she had said. I couldn’t drill her more for doubts. Instead, I moved on to the technical questions to see how much knowledge she had for the job she was applying for. 

     I had developed an instant intrigue of her. She was reserved and professional in the interview. There were times she seemed nervous. And at times, she seemed quite confident. I was usually quite good at reading people but I couldn’t quite figure her out. I gave her a small task and she unexpectedly responded within two hours with the design idea. Although her idea was sloppy, her intelligence, her positive attitude, and her energy impressed me.

       And the fact that just within two hours she completed a sample task I’d sent her. It was more than satisfactory. I was surprised by her quickness. It was clear that she was eager to work and prove herself. More than experience, what mattered to me was someone who was willing to work hard and prove their work to me. Someone who was motivated to try hard themselves. And all they needed was an opportunity to work and prove themselves.

      When I closed my laptop, I already knew who I was going to hire. I smirked in satisfaction.

                                                             ********

    ‘It’s because you are a sapiophile,’ Shreya declared as we talked on phone, ‘I told you even when you were young. You are way too smart to be interested in common folks.’

    I laughed. Shreya was my older cousin that I grew up with. We have had a very close bond since childhood. She was like a sibling and a friend. Ever since childhood, I had developed a habit of sharing most things with her. Shreya had a composed energy that made you feel calm when you talked to her too.

    We were very different personalities and had very different interests too. I studied business in school and she studied psychology. Shreya had become a therapist now and offered sessions to poor people. And she was always psycho-analyzing me unsolicitedly as well.

    ‘Yes, I remember,’ I replied, ‘You always used to tell me that it is my fate to end up with someone extremely smart who can match my wits. But I am not talking about romance and soulmates here. I was simply telling you about a person I interviewed for a job interview.’

    I could hear Shreya giggling on the other end. She and aunt were both very fixated on the idea of me getting married as soon as possible. So, any indication that I was even remotely around a girl gave them the wrong ideas.

     ‘It’s about time you found yourself a soulmate,’ she replied, ‘Or else the entire family would hunt one out for you. She’s sniffing out girls from all around Delhi to pick the prettiest one for you. And mind you, she doesn’t care about beauty with brains. She just wants a girl who will be docile and obedient to you.’

     I rolled my eyes.

   Perhaps it was a by-product of living in the west. Or maybe I had always believed this. But I did not find the traditional idea of what made a woman attractive, attractive at all. I wanted a woman to be stimulating for my mind and body. Someone who had a free will and a strong spirit of her own. I wanted her to compliment me not to be an accessory in my household.

    ‘If Aunt is going with that mindset,’ I replied, ‘You might as well tell her to give up completely. I am never going to settle with someone whose two defining traits are docile and obedient.’

    ‘Aunt’s heart will be broken by such a news. She can give up anything but the search for your partner. And she is afraid you will find a white woman here and settle down in America forever.’

      I groaned at Shreya’s response. It was just like traditional families to believe that a woman should simply be used as a tool to tie down a man to a paternal house. That wasn’t how I thought. I didn’t want my wife to be just a tool and a homebody. I would rather she travel with me too. But right now, I had no women in mind. My life was preoccupied by work and work alone. I didn’t even have time to dream or fantasize about anything.

     Yet every single time I talked to anyone from home, they reminded me what an emergency situation it was that a highly successful man in his thirties was still unmarried. No wonder, Aunt was worrying I was going to settle with a white woman. They simply were all too conditioned to think of life as anything but an affair where two people must eventually meet and procreate.

    ‘Well, anyway I don’t think my family would like any of my choices anyway,’ I tried to bring humor into the conversation, ‘Even about the women I choose to employ at my work. I mean this new employee is Pakistani, do you know that?’

    I could hear Shreya’s shudder from the other end of the line.

   ‘Arjun, don’t you dare fraternize with a Pakistani,’ she gave a warning. This time her tone wasn’t playful and chirpy anymore, “It will never lead to anything good you know that?”

     I groaned again.

   ‘I am hiring for a job!’ I reiterated, ‘What is she going to do? Sell my secrets to ISI? You all are ridiculous. It’s been decades since they became their own country and you still treat them like a plague.’

   ‘Oh, and what about them, you know what they do–’

  ‘Now, now,’ I interjected, ‘I did not call you for a history lecture. I have better things to do with my time than going into the complicated debates about who was right and wrong in history.’

  Shreya was not easily convinced by my response.

   ‘Just don’t get close to her. I know you have a tendency to do weird things,’ she said, ‘Take care of yourself Arju. Call Mama too after this. She’s missing you.’

   I smiled thinking about Mama and bid Shreya goodbye. After the call ended, I decided firmly to never bring up Fatima’s name again in front of Shreya. She was only going to go into one of her unnecessary lectures about what I should and shouldn’t be doing with Pakistanis.

  I just didn’t like when people lectured me. And it wasn’t as if I was actually going to do anything she had warned me about in any way, I thought at that moment.

  Boy, how very wrong I was.