EP3 - Clash with Mr. Chidkuram

"So, Ms. Goenka, why did you choose to become a music therapist when you could have easily pursued a career as a singer?" the interviewer asked, a curious smile on his face.

Akshara had just finished giving them a demo of her song—her favorite, O! Kanha—which had earned her applause from the panel of interviewers.

Akshara took a deep breath, feeling her nerves settle. "I've always wanted to work in a hospital, to help people in some way. Music has always been a huge part of my life, and I found a way to combine both passions. So, I became a music therapist. I feel so grateful for this opportunity, and I'm honored to interview here at Birla Hospital."

The interviewers exchanged smiles, nodding thoughtfully. Akshara sat there, her foot nervously tapping the ground as she waited for their response.

"Congratulations, Ms. Goenka," the lead interviewer said, his voice warm. "We've decided to offer you the position of Senior Music Therapist at Birla Hospital. When would you be able to start? We're hoping you can join us as soon as possible."

Akshara's heart skipped a beat as a wave of relief washed over her. She had made it.

"Thank you so much, sirs," she replied, her voice steady with excitement. "I'm happy to start tomorrow."

The interviewers discussed the role, the responsibilities, and the details of her compensation. After a few more minutes, Akshara thanked them again and bid them goodbye, her heart still racing in her chest.

...

"Dadu, I was nervous at first, but once I started singing, all my anxiety just melted away. I've been offered the position, and I'll be starting tomorrow!" Akshara spoke into her phone, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief.

"I'm so proud of you, Akshu," Manish said on the other end, his voice warm but tinged with concern. "You've always worked so hard for this. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will, Dadu. I promise," Akshara reassured him, as she walked down the corridors of Birla Hospital, her mind buzzing with possibilities for the future. "I'll call you later, Dadu. I need to drop off these documents with the hiring department."

After ending the call, she entered a nearby cabin without checking the name on the door. She had been instructed to deliver the file to the office on the right side of the fourth floor, just by the elevator, but as she stepped inside, she froze.

The office was immaculately organized, everything perfectly in place. The desk was neat, almost too neat, as if the person who worked here had an obsession with cleanliness.

"They told me to drop this off here, but there's no one around," Akshara muttered to herself, moving toward the desk to place the file in the most logical spot she could find.

Just as she set the file down, she heard the sound of the door opening behind her, followed by a voice—angry, demanding, and completely unexpected.

"Who are you?"

Akshara gasped, spinning around in shock. In her haste, she bumped into a lamp on the desk, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

"Ouch! Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" Akshara apologized quickly, bending down to pick up the fallen lamp.

Before she could reach for it, a firm grip caught her arm, yanking her up to her feet with surprising force. She was spun around to face the man who had shouted at her.

"I asked, who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my cabin?" the man growled, his voice sharp and demanding.

Akshara's heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. It would be a lie to say that his intense gaze didn't affect her. He was tall, well-built, with sharp features that exuded authority and a certain rawness. But Akshara wasn't the type to be intimidated by anyone, no matter how handsome or imposing they seemed.

She glared at him, her arm still caught in his grip. Without hesitation, she shook his hand off, pulling her arm free.

"First of all, I'm sorry for entering without permission," Akshara said firmly, her voice steady, despite the anger brewing inside her. "I was sent here by Mr. Dixit to drop off my documents. Secondly, I'm the new music therapist here at the hospital. And lastly, I don't owe you an explanation or my name, not to someone so rude and disrespectful like you."

Her finger was pointed directly at him, her eyes unwavering.

Abhimanyu's jaw tightened in fury. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to, Ms. No-Name?" he hissed, his voice dripping with disdain.

Akshara stood tall, not backing down. "Even if you're the president of this hospital, I don't care. Respect is a two-way street. You respect me, and I'll respect you."

Abhimanyu's eyes narrowed, his temper flaring. He pointed a finger at her, but before he could say another word, Akshara shoved his hand away and turned toward the door.

"Don't waste your time," she said, her voice cold as she reached for the door handle. "I'm not interested in talking to you anymore."

She paused just as she reached the door, glancing over her shoulder one last time. "Akshara. Akshara Goenka is my name. Don't forget it, Mr. Chidkuram."

Abhimanyu's eyes shot daggers at her, but by the time he could respond, she was already gone.

"Badtameez ladki!" he muttered under his breath, fuming with frustration. "I'll deal with you later."

With a groan, he bent down to clean up the mess she'd made with the lamp, still angry but unwilling to let it show.

...