AUTISM – CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

A Heartfelt Note during Autism Awareness Month

Diagnosis and the journey thereafter

It has been nine years since my son was diagnosed with autism. He is a non-verbal autistic child on the higher end of the spectrum, and life has never been the same since then.

When my son started school at 2.5 years old, he was not speaking. We thought that the challenges of living abroad without extended family support and the demands of our daily routines were causing a speech delay, which is a common phenomenon in children. We hoped that he would develop new social contacts and skills that would encourage him to communicate more explicitly, but a few months passed, and there was no change. He couldn’t mingle with other children and was always sitting alone in one corner of the room while other kids played in groups.

Concerned about my child’s development, I sought expert advice. Before getting an appointment with the child development and psychological department of the hospital (which involved a long wait), I did some online research and discovered that my son had all the classic symptoms of autism, including delayed speech, little to no socialization, arranging toys in a linear pattern, flipping hands, no response to his name, no eye contact, high sensitivity to people, noises, and lights, etc.

I knew it was time to seek professional help to have a clear picture, but I still hoped I would be proven wrong. Unfortunately, the diagnosis confirmed my intuition, and it broke my heart despite my preparedness for the worst possible outcome.

What is Autism? Have a look at it.

We faced a challenge by fate, and we had no other option but to catch it. A shortage of schools catering to special needs kids is common in Brussels, and our son’s first disappointment after being diagnosed was the rejection of his place in a regular school because the teachers were not trained in the special needs care required of autistic children. We had to pull him out of the school immediately, and we couldn’t blame the teachers for their honesty.

Fortunately, my son got a place in a day hospital that functioned like a daycare or a school for kids with different needs or issues. Autism was one of them, and before my son started his next school in 2016, he continued in the day hospital for two years. That was a great help indeed. By the time he got a place in the special school, he was toilet trained, understood how to use pictures for communication (PECS – Picture Exchange Communication System), and could use a word or two to communicate his needs.

In 2016, he got a place in a primary school founded specifically for kids with Autism Spectrum Disorder. It’s been nine years since then, and the journey continues. We are still battling his agony of being unable to explain inner frustrations, high sensitivity to loud noises, and inability to concentrate for long periods on any particular activity (which impairs his learning abilities to read and write). There have been numerous occasions when his pent-up frustration would turn into a  meltdown, and he would end up shouting, crying, and hitting himself. At that moment the only thought that crosses my mind is “I wish I could understand your unsaid words“.

But it doesn’t mean that there has been no progress at all. He called me “mom” when he was eight years old, one of the happiest moments of my life. He is becoming more autonomous every day (can make a simple sandwich for himself when hungry), and more accepting of the changes proposed to him. He uses single-word communication for stating what he needs. He has developed an interest in cooking which we would love to develop further.

Stigma Associated

Our journey with autism so far has been full of ups and downs. But I am happy that we didn’t shy away from seeking help and accepted the diagnosis and requisite guidance positively. That reminds me of an incident that dates back to 2004-2005. I used to teach kindergarten kids. I had a student who had similar issues like my son. But since I was not aware of the reason behind such traits (read lack of awareness then), I couldn’t specify clearly to the parents. I suggested parents see a child psychologist to understand the reason. Parents took it otherwise. His mother asked me upfront “Do you think my son is mad? All he needs is the teacher’s attention.”

Being a parent myself now, I accredit that mother’s response to a lack of awareness and an attached sense of embarrassment in such cases (especially in societies of the Indian sub-continent). The unfortunate thing is even after so many years, autism awareness is by and large still a bookish concept. Except for a few experts in the medical fraternity, psychologists, and the special education faculty autism isn’t a much-known concept among the masses. 

Even in 2023, when I told someone about autism, they had a blank expression and declined to know anything about it. What’s more worrying about the scenario is people consider autism to be some sort of disease that can be cured with medicines. My brother’s neighbour suggested that I must see a doctor as his nephew in a similar condition had a considerable improvement after the doctor’s intervention. I clearly don’t know what has transpired or what was the situation they dealt with but my stance was clear “Autism is not an illness“. Sadly a certain level of stigma is still associated with neurodevelopmental disorders that people don’t want to talk or accept about them openly. 

 A kid diagnosed with autism needs therapies to enable him/her to develop skills for daily life, communicate better (though every autistic is different when it comes to communication skills) and improvise social interaction/behaviour. People with autism or any other neurodevelopmental issue deserve comprehension and compassion, period!

Check: Myths & Facts about Autism Spectrum Disorder

You can always share with me!

After I shared about my son’s diagnosis, a friend of mine called me and said she wanted to share something. She opened up about her son who was also diagnosed with autism spectrum. She poured out her heart about her struggles as an autism parent. She chose me to confide in, and I consider myself fortunate. Recently, another friend of mine shared her doubts about her child being on the spectrum. I understand how nervous that point can be to be at. 

Being an autistic parent isn’t easy (for that matter parenting comes with its own set of challenges). Constant efforts to provide better opportunities to enable their kids to learn and lead a life at par with any other person coupled with anxiety about “what after us” defines the lives of autistic parents. 

I have had my fair share of struggles and still continuing to deal with them but would be happy to lend my heartfelt support to parents with autistic kids. I don’t have any professional training but have the heart at the right place to hear you out and understand your position. I think we deserve such support.

An Important Mention

Whatever my journey has been, I consider myself to be lucky enough to have found helping people and dependable organizations to smooth out the bumps in our ride. Since the diagnosis SUSA and FAMISOL (NGOs in Brussels, Belgium) have been constantly on our side, helping us to plan activities for my kid, seeking government aid/benefits, searching for a place in school, etc. My son’s school “Ecole AstronAutes” has been a great asset to us in this journey so far. Expertise alone can’t set things right, it’s love and care that work wonders. I am privy to this. 

In India, I came across a wonderful organization “ASHA HAI” which literally translates to There’s hope. True to its name, the organization with its well-trained faculty is putting in a lot of effort to turn around and make lives easy for kids with autism spectrum and other special needs.

Final words

Don’t let the definition of autism define or limit your love for your child or the dreams and aspirations of your kid. They have a different prism to look at things, perhaps not only different but beautiful as well than how we perceive the world around us.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY….

Yet another page from the mother-daughter diary

“Mom, please tell me a story and put me to sleep,” my daughter requested. It’s a part of our routine. Sometimes I read folk tale books, and sometimes I play bedtime stories on YouTube (when I have a lot of things to wind up and anxiety kicks in thinking of the remaining agenda). But there are times when she demands stories freshly cooked up. She also hands me a few specifications, like certain characters, names of the characters, certain habits, and so on. Trust me, she plucks fruits of imagination from La La Land and lets me feast on some of the juiciest fruits. Once ingredients are given to me, the onus is on my shoulders to serve her with an enjoyable story, laced with a moral, of course.

So this time she wanted me to tell her a jungle story with a baby elephant named Daisy as the central character. To weave stories instantly is a difficult task, but parenting comes with additional features. Either you end up being a pro at multitasking or you nevertheless end up doing the job somehow. I fall into the second category. Let me go straight to the story. Don’t worry, I won’t make you fall asleep (the purpose of a bedtime story), and I will keep it short.

The story:

Daisy moved to a new jungle colony. Monkeys inhabited the area in large numbers. Daisy was delighted to make new friends. Her days would pass loitering around in the jungle, exploring every nook and corner while her friends were busy scaling high trees. Her mother was upset with how Daisy spent her days, doing nothing productive compared to her friends. “Why don’t you learn anything from your friends?” “You can give climbing a tree at least a try.” “You are giving me a lot of tension, mind you” her mother’s rant would go on and on. She even made Daisy participate in the area’s annual monkeys race. Daisy failed and failure has to some extent stirred resentment in her.

Daisy’s parents had to go to a nearby colony. They entrusted Daisy’s responsibility to neighbours. Everyone assembled on the ground, having general chit-chat. A rabbit named Bonny came running, breathing heavily. He had dreadful news to share. “Guys, I overheard hunters in the nearby fields; they are going to launch an attack on our colony.” “We need to think and act fast,” Bonny said, distressed. The gloom was in the air. As he was still speaking, a shot was fired into the air, setting off chaos. Monkeys were rushing to find a cover. A few of them were hopping on the treetops to locate the exact location of the hunters. Amid the chaos, Daisy considered using her strength to resolve the situation and help others as well. Creating hurdles for hunters, she uprooted trees and flung them over. That would buy time for escaping. A coordinated effort helped Daisy and her friends escape the hunters’ trap.

When Daisy’s parents returned, they learned about the entire fiasco. They were proud when everyone in the colony praised Daisy. Her mother patted Daisy’s back with her trunk. “I’m proud of you, dear,” she whispered. Daisy smiled and said, “But mom, I couldn’t climb trees as you would have liked it.” “I am sorry for that,” she said, leaving the place, leaving her mother pondering over her behaviour when she constantly compared her daughter to others.

As soon as I finished the story, my daughter made a quick remark. “Daisy’s mother is none other than you. You compare me to my cousins.“

When I made up this story, I knew that she was smart enough to find real-life references, though I wasn’t creative enough. I replaced fish with elephants. Yes, as much as I boast of being a cool Gen X parent, I am sometimes guilty of being an anxious and overly enthusiastic parent. I have no shame in admitting that I do compare my kids to others (sometimes). When I notice my daughter repeating the same calculation mistake every three days, the paranoia kicks in. A matrix of future scenarios’ permutations and combinations dangles in front of me. I end up giving her examples of her cousins who have a vast syllabus compared to her and a rigid education system.

But going back in time, I, and perhaps a majority of 80s and 90s kids, have witnessed a similar kind of parenting style (talking about the Indian scenario; I am not aware of how things were then in the rest of the world or, say, outside of Asia). Blame it on the cutthroat competition in every field, parents compare their kids (mostly academically) to their peers. My mother, being not highly educated herself, always dreamed of giving her kids a good education. The only way she thought was right was to keep track of our marks and tally them with our friends. Whenever I used to have a bad examination, nervousness would consume me. Nervousness about how to convey how badly I fared at the exam and the results that followed I used to share my woes with my brother. He had a perfect solution up his sleeves. He used to say, “Simply say that you did well, and when the results are announced, you can have your share of reprimand from mom. Why double your trouble?” Fortunately, things changed when I started my graduation. My mom no longer compared my results; rather, she started to believe in the process of learning, that is, to understand the concept. More importantly, she believed in me and said that I was responsible enough to take care of my studies. A breath of fresh air! And, happy to say that I lived up to it.

So can you blame me for the occasional “look at them” behaviour? (Ideally, you can; I am guilty and have no qualms accepting the same.) But I have been privy to such an environment, and it makes its presence felt in my thought process sometimes.

Coming back to my situation, I train my brain not to fall into the temptation of making comparisons of any sort. But as the flawed character I am, I do fumble sometimes. I compare myself with other successful women (the definition of success is debatable). I have a specific set of problems, and the people I compare myself to have their sagas and woes to share. But everything becomes opaque to me, and I turn a blind eye to the obvious. This is where self-doubt takes good control over my senses and abilities as well. I want to make special mention of my husband’s role here. He never compared kids to others, for he had the same experience as mine as a kid. According to him, comparison connotes pain and misery. He is convinced that such a juxtaposition elicits (most of the time) negative emotions. It kills confidence. He clearly stated, “I wouldn’t mind even if my daughter decides to be a worker with the garbage cleaning department as long as she is happy and an honest person.” (As a child, she expressed an interest in becoming a garbage collector. Now her favourite jobs have changed for a while. He got his priorities straight, I must say. A lot to learn from him.

Let’s have a broader perspective:

Is comparison completely evil? Or can it be a tool to leverage better performance? The impact of comparison on our lives depends on how we are applying it. I believe we can not completely do away with comparison. It is omnipresent on both micro and macro levels, essentially dealing with quantifiable things. The purpose is to improve. We are a part of the social fabric, and comparison among us seeps through at one or the other point. If used as a tool of introspection, it paves a way for implementing a concrete plan of action to reach the goal. Comparison is a tool to leverage introspection only if we are ready to accept our weaknesses, identify our strengths and prepare a unique path to tread. We shall be able to enjoy the process of learning (from others) and understanding (ourselves). Customization is the key because of the uniqueness of every handler who is using comparison to optimize the results. Precisely every journey, destination and path is different. But what if the element of customization (understanding our own circumstances) is missing? You are either blindly fancying or ranting about someone somewhere in a better position and messing up with your own life. In my mother tongue, Telugu, there is a saying that translates to: “A fox burned its skin to have the look (stripes) of a tiger.” The underlying meaning is to imitate someone by being in their place or position. It will only lead to pain. If the purpose of weighing or comparing oneself is to achieve acceptability, to meet certain notions and standards, then pushing the envelope to reach there can lead to irreversible losses. For example, fashion influencers do a fashion haul every two days. They purchase clothes from brands and showcase (read: show off) them to gain traction online. The vanity of such behaviours rubs off on their primary target audience, which is young people. The clock of comparison ticks, “Let me get the same dress.” “Let me lay my hands on the same brands.” “I need to amp up my wardrobe just like the influencer/star.” Their actions therein without assessing their needs and circumstances could have rather serious implications. They could be mental, financial, and, in this particular case, environmental as well. Case study of how fashion haul impacts the environment: READ HERE

That is one off-beat example (out of the context of the current conversation).

Conclusion (moral of the story):

Comparison in a jungle colony as Daisy’s is completely futile undoubtedly. But for homo sapiens, the tool of comparison could be either useful or frivolous. It all depends on the acceptance of the conditions, the enjoyment derived from learning and carving a unique path to reach the goal. The aim of comparison should be to induce betterment and not to belittle or make one feel miserable.

Last but not the least, I shouldn’t be giving this heavy speech to my 7-year-old daughter. I better stop comparing her to others, for she is precious and carries her own set of capabilities. Mindfulness mode should be on default mode. For myself, I must concentrate on the path, customization you know!

OF SENSE AND SENSIBILITY

“I wish I was a deaf and dumb person! If I was deaf, I wouldn’t have to listen to all the derogatory things said to me. And if I was dumb, I wouldn’t talk stuff that irritate others. Better still, I think I should die. That would be the end of all my problems.”

An excerpt from a 10-year old’s chat which I received last week after she received a mouthful from well-meaning, but frustrated parents.

As adults, many of us have learned in the course of time to give a deaf ear to the harsh words of others or to mend our ways after getting a dose of constructive criticism which might not necessarily be music to the ears. But, is it the same for children?

There were times when spanking wasn’t really frowned upon. Rather, it was considered to be one of the corrective measures needed to discipline children. There were times when severe scoldings from parents, teachers, and elders made children rethink their actions and mend their ways. At least it was true for a majority of the population, with only a few scattered here and there who took the rebel route.

But, times are different now. We have highly observant children now who don’t hesitate to talk back. Call it genetic evolution or the influence of media or civilizational progress, children today are sharper, argumentative, rebellious, curious, independent, and thoughtful than those of the previous generations. They are not as compliant and submissive as most parents would want their darlings to be. To top it all, they are so very touchy!

There are numerous pieces in newspapers of late, of suicides by children who were either reprimanded for a wrong or refused access to gadgets – all which parents thought are measures of disciplining their children. But, the consequences proved to be disastrous thereby imparting strong messages to society and numerous amendments in Child Laws at the cost of precious lives.

So, what do we do? Give in to the whims and fancies of our children? Stop disciplining them? Use only sugar-coated words and ignore their wrongs? Keep worrying about their feelings and emotions all the time without caring for their holistic development? If our children are always kept in an aura of positivity, how will they learn to take negative feedback in their stride?

These and such other questions are bombarded by worried parents. Well, the approach to negative feedback is different for children and for adults. I will not dwell on those in this write-up. While adults are not expected to be childish in their response to negative feedback, children must also not be expected to behave in overly mature ways in response to criticism.

‘Sensitivity’ and ‘sensibility’ are the two words I want to leave behind for all to ponder upon. Criticisms, negative feedback, reprimands – all are parts and parcels of life. The way they are accepted depends most of the time on the way they are delivered and the outcomes they generate.

VULNERABILITY GONE WRONG – FINAL

Arvind Sikdar, Shaloween’s immediate boss had always been the best for everyone. And that was the reason why he continued to be rated high by all his staff members every time there was an evaluation in the company. He could understand the state of his young and most beloved staff member, Shaloween.

“Will you just shut up and sit down, Shalu?”, he said sternly, pretending to be angry. Shaloween didn’t say anything but simply rubbed her cold palms to each other taking a seat.

“It is not very important how this letter came to me… But why did you write this…? That is more important for me, Shalu. Now, let’s go out somewhere, that’s urgent”, he said sternly and without a second thought he stood and walked out of his cabin asking Shaloween to follow. She was shocked and confused seeing what Mr. Sikdar was trying to do and where he was asking her to go with him even though she was aware of his nature. He always does things in a very mysterious way but Shalu was hyper because of the letter which she wrote against Mr. Chandra which Mr. Sikdar put inside his coat pocket.

When Mr. Sikdar’s car stopped at Shalu’s apartment she looked at him with teary eyes. “Why have we come here, Sir? Have you thrown me out?”, she asked in desperation.

“Let’s get inside then I am telling you, Shalu. Have patience and you don’t need to shed your precious tears”, Mr. Sikdar replied to her, mocking her seeing the tears in her eyes.

When they settled down at her flat, Mr. Sikdar asked her, “Now explain what really happened between you and Mr. Chandra from the beginning till the end. I came here because I didn’t want to deal with these things in the presence of all others. Everyone would have come to the office by now.” He looked at his watch as he said that. Shaloween adjusted herself and explained everything that had been happening to and troubling her.

After almost two hours, Mr. Arvind Sikdar returned back to the company office and was greeted by his colleagues and two of those higher officials, Mr. Mahem and Mr. Chandra.

“You went for a morning walk or what, Mr. Sikdar? And where’s Shalu today?”, taunted Mr. Chandra as he asked looking at Mr. Arvind Sikdar. But as usual the composed gentleman, Mr. Sikdar replied, “No, Mr. Chandra, Shalu was in a deep trouble. She has high fever and as her guardian in this city, I took her to the hospital for a RTPCR test. It is better we forget her now and discuss about the final report, right Mr. Mahem?”

Mr. Arvind Sikdar’s words reverberated in that hall way with all others around and both the officials had nothing to say. They simply nodded their heads and walked inside the meeting room to finalize the report before they conclude their trip.

Two days after, in the morning when Shaloween walked inside the office hall, all others felt a chill in their spines seeing her. But at that moment, Mr. Arvind Sikdar walked out of his cabin with a smile, “Welcome Shalu, I am so happy you were tested negative and your fever is gone.” Both smiled understandably at each other, knowing well the reason of her staying away from office.

“By the way, I have something to announce, I was just waiting for Shalu to be back in the office”, Mr. Sikdar said looking at all as everyone attentively looked at him. “Shalloween had done a wonderful job and the two visiting officers approved all our reports, appreciated our reporting systems and our coordinated working styles. So we will have a party this afternoon.” Everyone in the room stood on their feet and cheered, congratulating Shaloween and Mr. Sikdar.

When Shalu went into the cabin of Mr. Sikdar later that day, his first question to her was, “Did you burn that letter you drafted against Mr. Chandra, Shalu?”

“Yes, I destroyed it immediately after you left the other day, Sir. And thank you so much for what you did for me. The drama you scripted taking advantage of the pandemic situation was exceptional.” Shalu said with her hands folded.

“Shalu”, he said as he asked her to take a seat. “I would have done that to anyone in your state. And you are like my daughter. Don’t you think as a father I would have anyway protected my daughter from such viruses?” Shaloween nodded.

“But you should have immediately told me about the first message you received. You should not have allowed him to play with your vulnerability. He was very manipulative but I am more protective of my own, my office, my staff and you.” Mr. Arvind Sikdar said with a gentle and satisfying smile on his face.

Shalloween literally allowed her vulnerability to go wrong but at the right time, she was well protected by this man. She could not have asked anything more after having a father-like boss and that was the reason why she had such high regards for him.

Everyone enjoyed the department party during the lunch time.

THE END

VULNERABILITY GONE WRONG – XII

The discovery of not finding the letter in her bag startled Shaloween. She emptied her bag, checked multiple times every quarter, every inch of the bag but it went futile. Her thoughts ran haphazardly to every nook and corner of the house and office where she possibly could have put or slipped the letter accidentally. Nothing seemed to help her out.

She was very restless lest that letter finds some unwanted notice when things were on the verge of finding a solution. The regret was not about writing it but about unmindful, unintentional omission unfortunately. She decided to go back to office as her phone was also dead by then and without a spare charger that seemed to be a right decision to her. Was it just the charger that forced her to be out in the night in an attire which was a little bit more than that of pyjamas or something else? She brushed those thoughts back as she tied her hair in a ponytail and started the car.

It was around 9:45 PM that she reached her office. As she went to the building after parking another shock awaited her at the entrance. The guard refused to let her go inside for the reason – she forgot her ID at home in a rush to reach office and the night guard wasn’t familiar with her.

She pleaded with him for about fifteen minutes but the guard refused to budge. Heaving a heavy sigh in despair Shaloween was about to leave as she heard some commotion on the stairs. She turned to look in the direction of the sound and was a bit surprised to see Shekhar Chandra there at that hour of the time.

“Sir, you? Here? How? Why?” Shaloween spoke in broken words contemplating well her state of mind – puzzled. “Well that should be my question to you Shalu.. I mean Ms.Shaloween. Here at this hour, searching for something?” Shekhar asked in a rather not casual tone or at least that’s what Shaloween thought.

That questioner was for a moment bowled over by the question! With a small hiccup Shaloween gathered herself and said with a straight face, “I forgot my charger at the office desk and my phone is dead. Couldn’t have waited till morning and in a rush to reach here I forgot my ID at home, just messed up things”. Shaloween stood there feeling awkward at this meeting. Shekhar signalled the guard “aane do” and the guard did allow her inside.

Thanking Shekhar in a polite way she followed him. As silence ensued she chose to break it and asked “What are you doing here Sir?”

Shekhar cleared his throat, “Had some files to look at to ensure timely wrap up from here” and opened the door for Shaloween leading into the office. She took a paced stride towards her cabin and collected her charger as Shekhar fixed his gaze on her.

Shaloween checked her drawers thoroughly but couldn’t trace the letter. She stood at her desk running her fingers through her hair in utter desperation, thinking where it could have gone.

Shekar was watching her. And their gazes met quite dramatically. Shaloween felt uncomfortable and decided to leave the premise thinking I shall see it later.

“Did you find … the charger?”, there was an awkward pause in his words. “Yes and thanks” Shaloween answered in a decidedly less hassled tone.

What transpired at office remained with Shaloween all the way back to her home. It was almost thirty minutes past 11. She decided to hit the sack but the disturbed vibe came to haunt her again.

Next day as soon as she reached office she was summoned to Mr. Sikdar’s room. Her apprehensions were oscillating quite high.

“May I come in Sir?” she took the permission and entered and the first thing that caught her attention and blew her mind was the letter in her writing lying on the table.

“Shalu I need to talk to you about this”, Sikdar pointed towards the letter but before he could say anything Shaloween confronted, “how did you get this Sir?” She was an amalgamation of anger and anxiety at this moment.

Sikdar usually a composed and sorted person seemed to have dropped his fine judgement when he said, “this shouldn’t have been the way to deal. You simply can’t blame anyone and especially meddling with powerful people isn’t good for you. You are like my own daughter. Why…” And he was interrupted by Shaloween abruptly who by this moment had lost all her patience.

“Just one question – how did it land here?”

VULNERABILITY GONE WRONG – XI

That day things at office were normal. Shekar Chandra did not try to have any conversations outside of work with Shaloween. She was quite relieved. After long day at work, she returned home, made dinner and slipped to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Shaloween woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. It was as if she got control over her life. She made her breakfast, had it along with coffee and later on headed to office.

Shaloween reached her cabin to find the office boy cleaning her desk.

“Why are there so less people in office today?”, she asked him in a surprised tone

“Madam, you came very early today. It is only 7.30“, he smiled.

She looked at the clock and he was right. She wondered how she never paid attention to what the time was. Now that she was so early, she went for a stroll in the park besides her office. It was a really nice park, and strangely she never even noticed it properly. She sat on the bench watching all the people over there. After an hour of so, she returned to her desk.

Today was the last day the officers are going to be in Shaloween’s office. Most of the work is completed and only the closing formalities were pending. It was post lunch. All the required people were in the meeting room apart from the officers. Everyone was waiting for them. Two officers walked in and they were late by almost an hour. Shekar Chandra was not to be seen. Mahem apologized for the delay. The team quickly finished all the presentations, details were furnished and the records were updated. The officers thanked the team for outstanding work. Mahem went round the table shook hands with everyone. When he approached Shaloween, he had an unpleasant look on this face. Shaloween disregarded those expressions.

“Team, thank you once again. We are going to be around for few more days in this office with regards to something that popped up. We can catch up for lunch some day“, saying this Mahem walked out of the room. There was cheer and a round of applause in the room. Everyone was delighted.

Shaloween returned home. She was in a cheerful mood that all of this is over. She spent some time with Bhaskar. She took him for an evening walk, on the way she had a Burrito. The weather was pleasant, the stars were clearly visible. She gazed at the moon while Bhaskar was playing. After a long time she had a relaxed evening. The higher official visit has taken away lot of her lone time.

She lay on the bed with Bhaskar on her side. She was browsing on her phone. She deleted all the messages she got from Chandra. She so wanted to delete his number too but just left it so. The charge on her phone was almost as low as 5%. She was looking for her charger in the bag and could not find it. She searched again and it wasn’t there. That is when she recollected that she left the charger on her desk. She put the phone on charge before she went to the park in the morning and later on forgot about it. It was not just the charger that was missing from her bag, but the letter she drafted for ICC too….

VULNERABILITY GONE WRONG – X

Next morning as Shaloween put her alarm on snooze, still wanting to catch up those last 10-15 mins of sleep, she heard her phone ring. It can only be her mom to call her at 6 am, she picked up and lazily said – “Good Morning ma, I hope all is good with you.”

“Hi Shaloween” came a male voice from the other end.

She woke up straight on her bed and looked at the phone in utter surprise. It was Shekhar Chandra. She was at loss of words and just managed to utter “Hello…. Sir?”

“Listen I am sorry for what I did. I am feeling quite ashamed. You are right, this is indeed harassment. I am not entitled to behave this way with you. Please understand that my intentions were not wrong. I genuinely like you and would like to be a part of your life. However, if this is not something that you want – I will go away and not bother you again.” Said Chandra apologetically.

Shaloween was shocked. She didn’t expect this turn of action. She was almost prepared to shout out a few nasty words at him but he is really apologizing.

“Ok”, totally at the loss of words, she could only say this.

“So, are we good with each other now? Let us just keep our conversation professional from now on. I promise that I won’t come in your personal way now unless you want me to. If ever you change your mind and want to come into my life – you have my number. I would really love that.” Said Shekhar Chandra in a flirtiest tone.

“Sir, I hope you are not going to let any of this have an impact on my work. I have really worked hard in this project and I was thinking that you might just push all my due credit down the drain. I really hope that you won’t do this.” Said Shaloween a bit doubtful.

There was silence at the other end.

“Shalu, I am not that kind of a person. I feel hurt that you thought that I would stoop down to this level.” Said Shekhar in a low voice.

“I am sorry Sir. I hardly know you, I can only judge by little interactions that we have had.”

“Didn’t I tell you earlier – you like to judge me, isn’t it? Well, let us meet in a few hours at office.” Shekhar said without letting her complete the sentence.

He hung the phone. No goodbyes.

That felt really weird. Shaloween opened the letter she had composed for ICC. She read it multiple times and felt guilty about it. “Did I judge the guy wrongly? Maybe he is genuine person wanting to be my friend and I just… anyway. I am glad that all this over, hopefully it would be a normal day at work. I am tired of having these eventful days now.”

Was this episode of her life really over?