That Indian Woman | √

Chapter 2

Alexander-

The Indian woman stomped away.

"Remind me once again why are we even in this country?" I said, as our driver started the engine.

I know I was the one who started the whole thing but she wasn't supposed to understand. I mean, many Indians didn't understand English, women being part of them. But I think... no, I'm sure, I was wrong.

As I played the incident again and again in my mind, I felt more and more humiliated. She called us filthy. She had no right to talk back at me. I am a British man and she is an Indian woman. She isn't allowed to talk back. That Indian woman! If I ever come across her, then she will definitely pay for today's insult.

We had reached India today in the morning, after a very long journey. I was hoping it would be fine and relaxing here in India, but I was so wrong.

"Well we are here because our fathers want us to be with them." Matthew said, as a matter of fact.

"I know!" I hissed. I shut my eyes tightly, in order to wipe away any sort of lingering anger I felt. It didn't help that the woman's fac flashed in front of my eyes. I opened my eyes quickly, not wanting to be reminded of the reason for my anger.

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We were on our way to my father's office. When we reached there, an Indian guard came and opened doors for us. We were getting much respect here and it was a moment I wanted to relish.

"Alex, are you coming?" Jordan asked me. He was already on the stairs to my father's office.

"Yes, coming." I answered, as I got out of the car and walked towards the stairs.

We climbed the stairs and made our way to the office. As I was walking in the hallway, I realized that all the guards were bowing towards us. I smirked a little bit to myself and then nodded to them.

When we reached the office, I saw my father seated with Jordan's and Matthew's fathers. The office was, to say the least, lavish. Paintings of previous officers were hung at the walls; a huge chandelier was hanging from the ceiling. The floor was made with some shiny marble and my father's work-table was a large mahogany table. The chairs surrounding the table were royally-styled. I was impressed.

"Come son, I've been waiting to talk to you." My father said as he gestured to the seats in front of him. The last time I had seen the man was an year ago in London. And this was how he welcomed me. There weren't any hugs, there wasn't even a nod of acknowledgement... He just wanted to get straight to the point.

I sighed, feeling a familiar wave of  disappointment wash over me. I sat down with my friends in the seats. I looked at my father expectantly.

"Right. So, sons..." my father said, nodding to the three of us, "...we have decided that you three will enroll in college here in India. You must have heard of University of Calcutta? You will be joining it. You don't need to give any exam, as you've already been enrolled in the school." I scoffed, but didn't say anything.

Of course... my day had to go from bad to worse.

I was not a great fan of my father. He was a selfish man and did things that pleased him. He didn't care about my ambitions and dream. He was making me do what he wanted. Unlike Jordan and Matthew, I was not into business or joining services.
I was rich. I enjoyed everything a person aspires for. But one thing which was not in my hand was choosing my profession.

But who cared here?

Let me tell, no one.

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