An Encounter on the Metro - Epilogue 2
Confrontation
Massaging the back of her neck with her hand, with a look of frustration evident on face, Ari pushed open the kitchen door. The aftereffects of a busy workday lingered in her hunched posture. The Purple Chime Café had grown popular lately, drawing in new customers almost every day.
With her shift finally over, she removed her apron and slung her bag across her shoulder. Scanning the counter, she expected to see Rams — but instead, Maya sat alone, stirring an untouched cup of hot chocolate.
“Hey, Maya!” Ari called, walking over.
Maya looked up with a faint smile, her eyes tired but calm. “Hey, Ari.”
Something in her tone made Ari pause. “I heard from Rams that you’d be stuck with OT for the next two weeks. The project’s done already?”
Maya exhaled, her gaze dropping to the steaming cup. “I guess it’s done. No more OT.” A short pause. “I resigned.”
“What?!” Ari blinked, startled. Her hand twitched toward Maya’s, but she stopped short — not wanting it to seem like pity. “What happened? Are you okay talking about it?”
Maya gave a small, wry laugh. “The usual work stuff, ba.” She took a slow sip of her drink. “We had a meeting about the new product launch. My boss’s relative joined in — just to ‘see how things were going.’ He interrupted me mid-presentation and said — and I quote — ‘a girl shouldn’t be managing logistics.’ Apparently, I belong in HR like the ‘other women.’”
She scoffed, then sighed. “I tried to let it go. But later, that same man went to my boss to ‘advise’ him about his employees. The boss called me in and told me to hand over my presentation to Jagat — one of my teammates.”
Her fingers tightened around the cup, the warmth of drink seeping into her palm as if to comfort her from the cold — within. Though her tone stayed calm, her eyes had reddened.
“I worked hard for that job, you know? After everything… outperforming myself, believing in the so-called ‘growth potential’ of startups.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Guess I failed to see that people matter more than the promise of growth.”
Ari sat beside her in silence, gently patting her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, ba,” Maya continued, her voice softening. “Rams supports my decision. I’ll tell my family soon — they might not take it well at first, but once they see the results, they’ll come around. I’m done trying to fit where I’m not respected. I’m going to do what I actually love — creative marketing. Between Putti Sings, the café’s page, and a few freelance clients, I think I can make it work.”
Ari smiled warmly. “Of course! I know you can — and you will. You’re our Maya, after all.”
____________________________
Back in her hostel room, Ari slumped onto her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling fan spinning lazily above. Her mind drifted back to her conversation with Maya.
Her gaze clouded. She missed her family.
Thinking about the last few weeks — all the times she’d changed the topic whenever her mother asked about her “proper” job as a data-entry clerk — she felt a pang of guilt.
She didn’t regret keeping it a secret before starting to do music.
But postponing the matter left a hollow ache where reassurance should have been. Everytime She wanted to bring it up she held back or brought up irrelevant topics - she feared hearing dissapointment.
Dissapointment in their daughter who no longer wanted to fit into what society expected.
She realised that sometimes, confronting the truth was harder than chasing seemingly impossible dreams.
Maya’s words echoed in her mind — people mattered. Family's Support mattered.
Her parents didn't smother her with expectations and draw boundaries because they hated her - no- it was the opposite in fact. She knew -- that they had sacrificed their own dreams for their children - and somehow, that understanding made it all the more suffocating.
But this time, Ari didn’t want to hide behind fear. She wanted to speak, to bridge that distance. Her mother might panic, maybe even shut her out at first, but Ari promised herself she would persist until she was heard.
Her fingers brushed the phone lying beside her. The haze in her eyes began to clear as she sat up, determination replacing hesitation.
Taking a deep breath, she unlocked her phone and hit the call button.
The ringtone buzzed once… twice…
“Hello, Putti”
“Hello, Amma(mom),”
-Fin-
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