‘Of course we have malls!’ I snapped. ‘It’s not like we’ve been frozen in time for the last ten years, you know!’ I glared at Gautam, but he was busy rummaging in his laptop case and didn’t respond.

‘Ah!’ he said, pulling out a bottle of Evian mineral water and taking a long swig, ‘I needed that! I can’t touch any of the water around here. My stomach, it just can’t handle it any more, you know?’

‘Really?’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Can you digest the food cooked here or do you carry little frozen cubes of that as well?’

‘That’s funny!’ Gautam tittered politely and excused himself as his cellphone rang. I listened to him as he spoke, getting progressively more bored as he rambled on about some pesky client with unreasonable expectations and crazy deadlines.

‘So what d’you do, Maygha? I hear from your mom that your job is really hectic? Long hours, huh?’ Gautam said suddenly, putting his mobile down and picking up his glass. I had politely declined his suggestion of ordering wine, telling him quite truthfully that I was a teetotaller and hoping that it would turn him off. But he’d just seemed a little surprised and ordered a Coke for himself too.

‘Yes, it is quite hectic,’ I smiled back at him brightly. This was the opening I had been waiting for! Now was my chance to tell him how I couldn’t wait to get away from my boring job and settle down in matrimonial bliss.

‘So you sell biscuits, right?’ Gautam asked casually, leaning towards me with a smile.

‘Umm, no. Actually I’m in marketing,’ I replied, annoyed. It always irked me when people assumed my job was all about ‘selling’, completely overlooking its marketing-related aspects. ‘I’m in brand management,’ I continued. ‘What we do is develop the strategy for the brand, the communication, etc. You know, develop the entire marketing mix.’

‘Ah, marketing jargon!’ Gautam chuckled. ‘I get that all the time from the guys in my marketing department? Strategy, yada yada yada? It’s basically the same stuff—right?—whether you call it marketing or brand management? At the end of the day, it is all about selling your stuff!’ He emphasized the last few words with a few well-timed raps on the table and I felt like giving him a few raps of my own across his smug face.

‘Actually, you couldn’t be more wrong,’ I snapped rudely. ‘That’s the problem with people like you who don’t understand the first thing about marketing. Marketing is not only about selling; it also involves understanding your consumer and creating the right offering to meet the consumer’s need. There’s a whole lot more to what I do than just selling biscuits!’

I stopped, feeling out of breath and a little hollow from within. Why was I being so defensive about a job I wasn’t even enjoying any more in the first place? I was so confused about whether this was what I really wanted to do for a living, about whether this was my life’s true calling, and here I was, hackles raised, ready to tear Gautam apart just because he had made some silly comment. I stole a glance at him sheepishly; he had looked flabbergasted initially at my little outburst but was now looking suitably contrite. Thankfully, the waiter turned up just then to take our order, conveniently filling up the awkward silence that had descended between Gautam and me like a gaping hole.