Tunnel Vision Read Online Free PDF

super sleuth stool pigeon that told him. Why else would he have engineered a one-on-one meeting? It was ostensibly to review my team ’ s performance, but I had worked for Dada Labs for two years at that point, and this was the first time he had shown any blatant interest in one of his ‘ chotas ’ , as he called anyone not on the board. Like any Seth with the label, he knew everything that happened at the SITE headquarters but made sure he never appeared to snoop.
    Like a one-day batsman facing a bouncer right into bat, I was forced onto the back foot which is what he intended, of course. The rest was about acquiring knowledge, and subtle intimidation. He wanted to gauge Saad ’ s seriousness, and my chances, all at once. Show me that he knew what was happening, humiliate me into understanding that a climber like me wasn ’ t good enough for the only son of a man like him. And that ’ s when I decided to respond to Saad ’ s overtures. While I had decided early in the professional game to be smart and forego office romances, now I really wanted to annoy his father. I was a social climber, was I? When my ascent was done, he ’ d be scrambling to lick the mud off my shoes. Sensible wall climbing shoes, of course, not stilettos. I was a working woman, after all, not a trickster angling for a prize.
    Saad ’ s pleasure at my finally saying yes to his repeated requests for a cup of tea at a nearby dhaba was flattering.While I ’ d known he was attracted to me before he did (it ’ s all in the body language), I had considered it more nuisance than new beginning.Yes, he was good-looking (five feet eleven, twinkling eyes, luminous skin), rich, articulate (bonus in the land of the emotionally constipated), but he was my boss. I didn ’ t want an action replay of my last job.
    After getting my BSc in chemistry from Karachi University, I steamrolled through a series of professions while doing an MBA at the IBA ’ s evening programme and going into sales. I had never planned to do an MBA, in fact it had figured nowhere in my list of ‘ top ten things to do in the evenings ’ (much like the accident), but it seemed impossible to find a worthwhile job without one, and also it got me away from the simmering stew of tension that was our house in those days.
    I wasn ’ t content to be a lab rat, having nurtured delusions of worth all my life. Everyone was happy when I landed a job at Airway Travels after getting my MBA. Ammi was especially happy I ’ d gotten that silly degree, she thought it would help drive up my market value as far as marriage prospects were concerned. She was probably right, but at that point marriage wasn ’ t on my list of top ten things to do in the evening either.
    At Airways, I started out being responsible for all corporate sales. I ’ d always been good at telling people what to do, where to go and how they should get there. It seemed like a logical progression.
    Direction savvy, that ’ s what I was. Not bossy, there ’ s a difference.
    There are two kinds of women dominant in Pakistani organizations. Parasites and pit bulls. Sure there are others; mousy non-entities flitting from desk to bus and back again, hoping no one will notice and their husbands/fathers won ’ t beat them too badly for an imagined indiscretion, confident urban graduates that thrive in controlled environments where the men have all undergone sensitivity training and khaddar is king (or queen?), like equal opportunity NGOs, women who work in groups and move in packs (teachers at all girls ’ colleges for example), occasional trailblazers that pop up in individualistic fields like film or art … but there are more parasites and pit bulls than all the rest together.
    I felt this now after years of working, or possibly because the head injury had finally forced the lesson to sink in, but this version of reality had long been discussed anytime the