He absentmindedly dialed the number and while waiting for the call to be answered, drifted off into the nebulous future. As the founder of a start-up, he was finding out the true meaning of the word ‘hustle’ and every sale he made gave him enough courage to fight one more day. “Hello”- the contralto voice at the other end shook him out of his stupor. The prospective client’s voice that a huskiness, a sensuousness that melted into his ears and went down to his stomach and beyond. He found himself imagining the face behind that sexy voice and almost forgot what he'd called her for. He wanted to sell his organic soaps to her. He gathered himself quickly and blurted out, “Mrs. Angelina”? “Yes”, came the reply. “Good afternoon Ma'am, My name is Veeral. Mrs. Henna Desai gave me your number”. He paused, waiting for the prospective client to acknowledge Mrs. Desai’s mention. “Mrs. Desai from Cuffe Parade”?, came the query. “Yes ma'am”, he replied. “Henna is a good fri...
Ruminations of a mind that is sometimes angry, sometimes caustic and sarcastic but is mostly darkly humorous...on a variety of subjects under the sun..hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy writing it....Ciao...