"So, what happened, akka?"

Those were Devi's first words to me as soon as I walked into office. Great start.

"As in?" I asked, pretending to not know what she was talking about. For once, playing dumb seemed like a good option for me.

"Did they like you? The people who came yesterday?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh. That. Umm—I don't know so. They generally take a few days to give a response, right?" I replied with a fake smile.

"Yeah but you should've been able to gauge their emotions. Okay, at least tell me this. Was he handsome?" She clearly wasn't ready to drop that topic.

"Well, I guess so."

"Seems like the whole world is getting handsome men except me," she said in a tone of frustration.

Devi often commented that way about her boyfriend simply because he was brown-skinned. As far as I knew, he was a nice guy and he treated her really well. She also loved him a lot. But somehow, she had this idea that she was too good for him because her skin tone was just a tad bit lighter than his.

So stupid!

The truth is, Devi did not even belong to that category of gorgeous girls. She was just another plain Jane. But thanks to her skin tone, she had this uppish opinion about herself. Now, it's perfectly fine for people to be self-confident about their looks. That's necessary. But this was just doing it the wrong way. Devi was unnecessarily being over-confident and insensitive about others' feelings.

"But then that's how it is. Good-looking people always end up with ugly people and ugly people get lucky with good-looking partners," she herself added that to the conversation and went to gossip with someone else across the floor.

Wow. Did she just? Oh yes, she did. She indirectly called me ugly. Thanks rude monster!

I ignored her illogical comment and turned on my PC.

I knew how useless the whole thing was yesterday. It was obvious they did not like me. I didn't mind it because for me it would turn out to be yet another rejection. My only concern was the Devis and Shamilas at work prying into it. But other than that, I was okay.

However my family had such high hopes of it. They were already very happy about the fact that the groom's family had eaten the goodies well. Apparently, that was a sign of positive response in a proposal. At least that's what they believed.

But I knew there was no such thing. They ate well because it was yummy food. Who would miss out on good food, right? Perhaps this theory would have been true if bitter gourd was served and they had finished it all up.

Poor mom and dad. They would get absolutely heartbroken the day they get the news.

I logged into my system and started working. A notification popped up on the bottom of the screen. It was an in-house message from HR intranet. I clicked it open.

"Be a Hero. Donate Blood."

Oh right. I had totally forgotten. A blood donation camp was coming to HighGen today.

Nice!

My face lit up the moment I read it. Now, one might wonder why I was so excited at the thought of donating a pint of blood. No, it wasn't because I was sold on their slogan of becoming a hero. It was simply because I knew it would be a great escape mechanism to avoid stupid questions about yesterday's drama.

Though blood donation itself was just a 8-10 minutes job, it generally took a few hours for the entire process, from registration to recovery, to be completed. Besides, it was done in the HR department, which was on the Third Floor. Now, the whole thing meant that I could get peace and quiet, away from most of my coworkers if I donated blood. And I badly needed that!

Of course, I knew the men from the department would come along with me but I was okay with that. At least the ladies wouldn't. I mean, most of them were not even eligible to donate blood because they weighed less than 50 kg and the rest of them were too scared. Babies!

So yes, since I wanted to escape the eagle eyes of the gossipmongers and because I was a hero ready to save lives with my valuable blood, I went straight to my Manager Paul and informed him about it. Before he responded it was Devi who gasped and said, "Are you sure you want to donate blood? You will get fatter, akka."

Typical statement thrown at overweight people trying to donate blood. I've been hearing it for the past seven years of my life. So sick of it by now.

"Aiyo Devi! Don't speak like an old aunty. That's just a myth. People don't gain weight by donating some blood, darling" I replied nonchalantly.

I didn't want anyone to notice that I was mad at her for all the recent fat shaming comments she had been making on me. I was after all an adult in a place of work. I did not have the liberty to reveal my feelings openly. I had to wear a mask and hide them as much as possible — because that's what professionals were supposed to do.

Paul granted permission and I left to HR immediately. Roshan came with me too. I wasn't very happy about him joining me but then, hey, I had no say over it. So, once again, I decided to suck it up like any normal adult would do.

The first thing I noticed as soon as I stepped into the HR department was that it was full. The large space outside the cubicles were full of donors, medics, and volunteer staff with two beds, some medical equipment and refreshments. And the other side had the usual HR people and a few job applicants.

Great. More crowd meant more time spent waiting for my turn. And more time meant more peace for me!

Roshan and I collected the blood donation forms from the counter and looked around for empty chairs to sit but there were none. We decided to stand and fill in the forms when one of the HR Managers gestured us to come in.

"There are two chairs in that room. You can carry those out and sit," he said pointing towards the room where the new job applicants were.

Roshan was all smiles the moment he heard that. Not because he really wanted the chairs but because there were two young girls inside and he was excited about getting an opportunity to meet them. They looked like they belonged to the freshly-baked cookies category — nineteen-year-old school leavers probably. There were also two guys but it was hard to judge their age because they were seated facing the other side.

Before entering the room, I clearly warned Roshan not to make any noise in there as they seemed to be taking the pre-employment IQ test and some people needed complete silence to focus on it. But he went in and did the exact opposite.

"Hi, my name is Roshan. I work on the First Floor. Nice to meet you. Now, if you don't mind, can I take this chair because I'm trying to donate blood and there are no seats outside." He spoke so fast that it felt like he hardly breathed between his words. It was so weird and unnecessary. I was embarrassed by his stupid behavior.

Both the girls who were probably already traumatized by the IQ paper, gave him strange looks and nodded their heads. The two guys from the opposite side turned around too, with confused looks obviously. One of them seemed like a school leaver and the other one looked like he was in his late twenties.

"Sorry for the disturbance by the way. Good luck with this," said Roshan again with his toothy smile even though he never got a verbal reply previously. I did not expect the girls to respond but one of them did this time.

"It's okay, uncle. No problem."

I put my hand over my mouth and tried to suppress my laughter. It was too funny!

Roshan's face changed. He looked like he had a lot of things to say but was too heartbroken to try anyway. Poor thing. He went from 'Romeo' to 'clown' within just a few seconds. But in a way he deserved it. He was after all trying to flirt with someone who was young enough to be his niece.

Before he could make the situation any worse, I quickly grabbed the empty chair from the boys' end. The younger guy smiled with me and I smiled back. As for the other fellow, he had a frown of disapproval on his face, which was so annoying. How could he lour at me for what Roshan did? Besides, I was a senior with 7 years of work experience at HighGen. Shouldn't he have showed me some respect?

Idiot.

When we walked out, I did not expect Roshan to speak about it because obviously what happened was cringey. But then he asked me, "So, do you think these peeps are being interviewed for our team?"

I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "I don't know. May be or may be not. Ours is not the only department here. There are other projects also, right?"

"Yeah, but Paul told me that they are in the lookout for immediate recruitments. I hope they are for us." His words implicated that there was no place for the feeling of shame in his world.

"Seriously, Roshan? Even after what happened?" I asked with an eye-roll.

"Who cares about that? Any form of communication is better than no communication at all, Alisha," he said with a wink.

I shook my head and said, "Whatever! I don't mind the other three but a big no-no for the older guy."

"Who? You mean the good-looking one?"

"Uh—what? I did not stare at his face with fascination to spot any good looks there. All I remember is seeing a scowl. Anyway, why are we even talking about him? Come, let's go hand over the forms."

The next thing was to step onto the scale, weigh myself and then have a word with the doctor. I truly dreaded this part. Because doctors were not my favorite people on earth. They generally took fat shaming to a whole new level by trying to blame my obesity for all of my sicknesses, even if it was just the common cold. It was very rarely that I found a doctor who did not do that.

Just as I assumed, the doctor made a face the moment he saw my weight. I knew what was coming.

"You are so fat noh," he said. I only smiled awkwardly. Then he added with a chuckle, "Not just one pint, maybe you can donate 10 pints of blood."

HA-HA. What a funny joke! Not at all laugh-worthy though.

A little later, I was asked to lie down on the bed. A nurse slapped my arm to find my vein. It did not work. She tried again. Meanwhile, on the other bed, Roshan was already donating blood.

This was another thing about being me — my veins weren't easily visible. Wonder whether it was the case with all overweight people or just me. Anyway, I hated it when it happened because most nurses did not have the patience to try and find it. They simply inserted the needle over and over again in different places until my arm looked like it belonged to a mild druggie.

Luckily, today, after a few slaps, the vein showed up and blood was donated without much hassle. Once the blood clotted, an adhesive strip was placed on my arm and I was asked to leave.

I also got a badge with the words, "Super Donor."

I wore the badge proudly on my shawl and walked up to the refreshments counter to collect my fish bun and milk packet. I was after all a hero who donated blood to save lives! I deserved it.

As instructed, I sat there to relax for a few minutes in order to restore my strength before going back to the department. That was when I saw the sullen-faced idiot once again. His interview was probably over. He was getting ready to leave.

Just before he stepped out, he turned around to check out the blood donation camp and our eyes met from a distance. I frowned at him and quickly turned my face away.

Now, it was my turn to be rude!

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Have you ever got fat shamed by a doctor? 😑 I have even heard a colorist comment from one 😒
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