RAGHU POV
"I plan to start a company involved in investing," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any childish lilt. "I need trustworthy and capable people. You seem to fit the bill."
I simply stared at him, my mind struggling to assemble the pieces of this preposterous proposition. My brain, a well-organized filing cabinet of logic and reason, had just been set on fire. Was I really getting a job offer from my friend's seven-year-old son, a kid who coulad be having a meltdown next week because his Lego tower wouldn't stand? A disbelieving grin stretched across my face. I decided to humor him, a fleeting escape from the sheer absurdity of the moment.
"Oh-ho! And how much will you pay me?" I asked, a hint of patronizing amusement lacing my voice, playing along with what I was certain was a very elaborate prank.
"If you do a good job, I'll double your current salary," he said, the reply coming without a moment's hesitation. "But you'll have a three-month internship in which you'll handle a major negotiation for me. It's a high-stakes deal, and I need to see how you perform under pressure."
The audacity of it all was breathtaking. It was so perfectly delivered, so utterly convincing, that it became even funnier. I couldn't hold back the laughter that erupted from my chest. "Do you even know what my current salary is?"
"Doesn't matter," he replied, giving a short, dismissive wave of his hand. "Judging by my father's income, it won't be something I can't afford. The payment is merely a reflection of your market value. The real value is the experience you'll gain."
"You are quite the comedian," I said, but he didn't crack a smile. He just gazed at me with his dark, unblinking eyes. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of white light deep within them, like a spark of static electricity catching in a void. It wasn't a reflection; it was a pure, intense pinprick of light that seemed to hold a universe of its own. I blinked, and it was gone, leaving my vision swimming for a moment. His eyes were completely black again, reflecting only the cabin lights. Maybe it was just a strange trick of the light, I told myself, a shiver I couldn't explain running down my spine, a primal reaction to something that felt profoundly unnatural.
When he didn't say anything and returned his attention to his papers, I had to ask one last time, my amusement now completely replaced by genuine confusion and a lingering sense of unease. "You're not serious, are you?"
He looked up, a genuinely perplexed expression on his face, as if my question was the most illogical thing he had ever heard. "Of course I am serious."
I was left utterly speechless, contemplating the unfathomable mysteries of the universe. What kind of child was this? What kind of family was I about to visit? We didn't speak for the rest of the flight, the silence now a heavy weight between us. After a few hours of uneasy silence and a short, restless sleep filled with bizarre dreams of boardrooms and glowing eyes, we got off the plane in Abu Dhabi for our layover.
We boarded our connecting flight to Chennai a few hours later. The flight was uneventful, filled with a silence that felt heavier than the initial one. I kept glancing at him, trying to find a crack in the facade, some sign that this was all just a game, but there was none. Just before we landed, Ryan handed me a small, folded piece of paper.
"This is the contact information for my grandparents' mobile phone," he said, his voice once again settling into that confident, professional tone. "Tell me your answer within two weeks." With that, he walked ahead of me down the aisle and out of the plane, leaving me with a small slip of paper and a monumental sense of disbelief.
SHANTI (GRANDMA) POV
As I waited with my husband at the Chennai International Airport, I saw Rudra walking out, a small shoulder bag slung across his slender frame. He was followed by a dazed-looking Raghu, who stumbled along behind, dragging his luggage trolley as if in a waking trance.
I strode forward and gave Raghu a sharp, affectionate slap to the back of his head. He jolted back to reality, blinking furiously as if waking from a deep dream. His eyes finally focused, and a look of relief, mixed with continued bewilderment, crossed his face.
"Namaste, Auntie," he said, rubbing the spot I'd hit.
"Namaste. Now, tell me why you look like a complete fool?" I demanded, hands on my hips, a smile playing on my lips despite the sharp tone.
"I feel like a fool," he said, his eyes wide and panicked. "Your grandson just offered me a job."
"Oh! And what job did he offer you?" my husband, David, chimed in, a twinkle in his eye as he took in Raghu's state. He had clearly heard the "job" part and was enjoying the show.
Raghu's face went slack with shock, the reality of the situation hitting him all over again. "He… he didn't say what the job was!"
I raised a single eyebrow. "So you were thinking so hard about an offer without even knowing the job?"
"Did you leave your brains back in America?" David added, shaking his head with a dry chuckle. "He's had you completely fooled."
"I'm reconsidering the offer I gave him now," Rudra piped up from behind me, his voice a perfect, dry imitation of a seasoned CEO. "His current performance evaluation is stark and the one on the flight was not up to standard."
I cut them all off with a wave of my hand. "We can talk about this in the car, Raghu. Come with us; we'll drop you home." I turned to Rudra. "And you, Rudra, where are your manners?"
He immediately stepped forward, bending to touch my feet with his fingers and then my husband's, a traditional gesture of deep respect.
"Pranam, Dadaji/Dadi," he said.
"Jeete raho," we both replied, our voices softened with warmth.
"Now, let's go," I said, herding them toward the car, a new mystery to unpack during the ride home.