The delay that paved the way

It was a hot and sultry day in late July, which is not unusual for this time of year. Despite the forecast for showers, there were hardly any clouds in the sky. Glancing at my watch, I wrapped the buttered toast in a paper tissue to have it on the go.

“Take your breakfast properly,” Mom shouted from the kitchen.

“Hirings are going on. The final round of interviews will start at 9.30,” I shouted back.

“Have you made it to the hiring panel?” she asked me, her eyes sparkling.

The spark vanished when I told her I needed to reach the office early because the keys were with me.

“That’s the work of an office boy! Have they demoted you?”

I had no answer to that question. Of course, this isn’t what I signed up for, but the job profile of a junior HR executive is kind of vague. I’ve never been an overly ambitious girl. My simple plan was to work at my own pace and reach the top in the next 6–7 years.

I gulped down the lukewarm coffee and then started tying the strap of my stilettos.

“Dad could’ve dropped you if you had told him last night,” she gently scolded, “You better swap the stilettos with ballet pumps.”

She was right. Given the nature of my job, I was always on my toes, and today would be no different. But a girl feels like dressing up sometimes.

I picked up my handbag and headed for the door when she came running with an umbrella and the metro train card.

“Mom, it’s not going to rain today, and I’m taking a cab. There are always too many at the curbside.”

“It’s a transport strike today; you won’t get a cab."

She then thrust the card into my hand.

To my surprise, I spotted a lone cab parked near the main gate of our building. I thanked my stars and rushed towards it, but my hopes were dashed when I found it was already occupied by an elderly gentleman. I explained my urgency and asked if I could use the cab instead of him.

“Darling, my friend is battling stage III cancer. This might be the last time I get to see him alive,” he said nonchalantly.

You know you’ve lost the argument when someone pulls a life-and-death card. It was 9 AM, and my phone was already buzzing with ‘hurry-up’ messages, and it started drizzling too. I cursed myself for not taking Mom’s advice and the umbrella. I spotted an auto (a three-wheeled vehicle) and managed to persuade the reluctant driver by promising him a higher fare. He agreed, but as luck would have it, barely 100 meters into the journey, it encountered a mechanical problem.

Despite the setback, I managed to reach the nearest metro station. However, when I swiped my card, a technical glitch prevented my entry. Ten precious minutes slipped away as I waited in line to purchase a token.

Fortunately, the token worked, and as I hurried up the stairs to catch the train, my strap gave way. It seemed as though the whole universe was conspiring against me, determined to delay my journey. It was the worst day of my life, and I was on the verge of breaking down.

I rummaged through my purse, found a band-aid, and hastily patched up the strap.

Finally, the train arrived, and I boarded it, praying fervently for a smooth ride. Suddenly, a sense of unease washed over me, as if something were amiss.

It was then that I realised my phone hadn’t buzzed in the last 15 minutes. My heart sank. Back in the days before WhatsApp, the only alternative to calling was text messaging. Glancing at the clock on my phone, which showed 9:40, I attempted to call two of my colleagues. Despite multiple rings, neither of them picked up. With this being my second job in the last fifteen months, I couldn't shake the feeling that soon I would have to start looking for another one.

It took me another 25 minutes to reach the office, and I was completely taken aback by what I witnessed there. The entire staff was gathered on the road, an ambulance parked at the side, and a bunch of firefighters trying their best to douse the raging fire on the two upper floors.

When I handed the keys to my boss, she hugged me with tears in her eyes and said, “Thank you for being late today.”

Apparently, there had been a short circuit in the room where the interview was scheduled. The fire had quickly spread to the adjacent rooms. It dawned on us that the absence of the office key had inadvertently saved all those lives, including mine.

Within moments, I became the star of the office, and people started expressing their gratitude. As for me, the only person I felt like thanking was the elderly gentleman who had refused to give up his cab for me. A month later, I ran into him at a doctor’s clinic—both of us were there for routine check-ups. I asked about his friend battling cancer. He said the chemo seemed to be working, and there was hope.

Then he shared something unexpected. On the day we first met, his friend’s grandson had an interview that got canceled due to a fire. Interestingly, they were supposed to enter the office at 9 a.m., but someone with the key didn’t show up in time.

I sheepishly admitted that it was me who was late, and I told him the whole story. He burst out laughing. I offered to arrange another interview for the boy, but he said the boy was no longer interested—he planned to start a startup instead.

“He’s looking for someone to handle admin. You’re in HR—why don’t you join him?”

Mr. Singh then gave me his number and said to call if the offer interested me.

After a month of careful deliberation, I finally took the plunge and joined his startup. My original plan—to climb the corporate ladder step by step and build a stable career—completely fell apart. But in the end, it turned out beautifully. Today, I’m a partner in a thriving mid-sized startup, and I finally have the time to pursue my other interests as well.