Dr Amit put on his gloves and sterilized lab coat. It was time to monitor the white mice and to record the resistance, if any, they were showing towards the new drug with which they were injected last night. He glanced at his watch. It was 10 minutes to 6.00 pm; which meant that he had still at least two hours to continue with his work. Would it be enough? After all these were strictly confidential data and as a senior scientist of this internationally acclaimed institute, he couldn’t afford to be capricious. He was feeling a bit tensed as he impeccably put the tissue fragments collected from one of the drugged mice under a super-powerful high-resolution microscope. With practiced dexterity he was typing down the details on the computer.
After about one hour Dr Amit’s Blackberry announced that he had a new message. He paid no attention and continued with his work. He knew who it was. He also knew that he better not repeat the same mistake which he had done six months back. But to his chagrin the ‘new message’ icon flashed again and this time with a sigh, he opened it. As expected it was Dr Salil, his friend since the college days and now his colleague too. The message read as,”This is the chance of a lifetime. Don’t be a workaholic. Go and live your life”. With another long sigh Dr Amit tried to concentrate again but his mind flashed back to an evening six months back.
That evening also he was meticulously copying down some specific data. He almost forgot about his appointment with Indira Kulkarni, 29, unmarried, beautiful, post-doctoral fellow, a genius in her field and most importantly she showed interest to grow up a relationship with Dr Amit. When Indira called him to know whether she would wait outside the cafe for him or make herself comfortable inside, he recalled the appointment and reached in a jiffy. But that gesture failed to impress Indira. A clumsy face with a week-long stubble and tired eyes turned her off completely. She never tried to contact him after that day. Dr Amit heard from other reliable sources about her acrimony to his unshaven look. She even commented that loving one’s work didn’t mean that he should adorn an unclean look with an unshaven face. He let out a long sigh again.
Dr Amit checked his Cartier chronograph again. He had to go home for a bath and he MUST SHAVE this time. Natasha Mishra was his cousin’s friend and his cousin had fixed an appointment so that he and Natasha could have a chance to know each other. Natasha was an award-winning vocalist and renowned painter. He didn’t want to disappoint her and also didn’t want to lose this chance. A clean-shaved, well-groomed face would be of great help to gain his confidence.
The mice screeched as he locked the door of the cell. “See you tomorrow little twerps”, he whispered and strode off.