The offices had just opened after a week-long Durga Puja holiday. A slight mist hung in the air and a cool breeze blowing across, made the morning a few degrees cooler than usual.

Auto-rickshaws and two-wheelers blaring, buses sputtering black exhaust, schoolchildren sprinting towards their schools for the last-minute on-time entry, with parents and domestic helps trying to catch up, beggars settling in their familiar places and readying themselves for the day ahead, office-goers filling up their day’s stock of gutkha and cigarettes, and the smell of frying puris and pakoras drifting lazily from roadside stalls- Guwahati's familiar chaos filled the mid-morning air.

Despite hi-tech offices coming up at several places across the city, and though the city has been slowly expanding in radius, the Fancy Bazar–Panbazar area, just opposite the mighty Brahmaputra, still remains the hotspot for many offices and several businesses.

Right there, across the Brahmaputra river, near the MMC Hospital, is situated the glass-fronted building of North East Digital Systems Pvt. Ltd- a digital media support and solutions firm which, perhaps, has the youngest workforce in the industry- the CEO being barely 36-year-old.

Just across the building, a crowd of employees gathered outside for their unsanctioned but inevitable mid-morning tea and smoke break.

The most popular spot was Deka Da's Tea Stall- an old cart shaded by a blue tarpaulin, with a gas stove, a dented kettle, and rows of glass cups waiting to be filled.

Deka Da was in his mid-sixties, who had two passions- his love for old Assamese songs and his passion for football and the Bordoloi Trophy- one of the oldest football tournaments in the country.

“Bordoloi Trophy etiya agor dore doi thoka nai,” he often lamented while talking about the degrading quality of the premier football tournament.

And to quench his thirst for old Assamese songs, he always kept his 1990s Phillips radio on, tuned to Akashvani Guwahati Kendra. Being from the old school, he was never fascinated by the FM stations.

“They are fake- from the way they speak to the way they laugh, and in music, fakeness has no place,” Deka Da explained why he disapproved of the FM stations and loved the good old Akashvani.

Three colleagues from North East Digital- Arup, Dhruba, and Namita- stood leaning against Deka Da's wooden counter, waiting for their special ginger and cardamom tea.

Arup was the talkative systems engineer; Dhruba, the soft-spoken team lead; and Namita was one of the marketing executives known for her wit and unfiltered opinions.

"Deka Da, all good? Who do you think will win the World Cup this time? India or Australia?" Arup asked, as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, passing one each to Dhruba and Namita.

Deka Da looked at Arup, smiled, and said, "Whoever wins, as if I care. Only if I could see one day India play at the football World Cup in my lifetime. Ei cricket sricket faltu hoi. Real game is football."

Deka Da's sweet disapproval of cricket as a useless sport made everyone laugh.

Arup, Dhruba, and Namita were the best buddies of the office, and they had been working together for nearly three years. This small tea and smoke break exactly at 11 am was their everyday ritual outside the office, and it had become their informal therapy session.

It was where venting, gossip, and philosophy brewed stronger than Deka Da's tea.

Arup lit his cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled thoughtfully, as he looked at the other two to join in.

"Man, today everyone's in such a mood. So much chatter near at the office, especially in our department. Do you guys have any idea why?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea and sitting on the half-broken wall near the tea stall.

"Why? What happened? What's that important part that we missed? Another client escalation?" Dhruba asked, settling near Arup, sipping his tea.

"Abbey! Not that. Nothing client-related, but office-related. It is about Jonali, the new intern who joined last week. Did you notice her today? The way she is dressed today?" Arup smirked.

Namita, who was busy scrolling through her Instagram feed, raised an eyebrow while still looking at her phone.

"Here we go again- Arup and girls' dresses," she said, shaking her head and smiling sarcastically as she continued staring at her phone’s screen.

"No, seriously," Arup continued, lowering his voice as he leaned closer to Dhruba and Namita.

"She's wearing that sleeveless red body-hugging kurti with skinny jeans, as if it's her second skin. I mean, it is not just the colour or the dress; it is the way it fits on her. The kurti isn't just sleeveless, it also has a deep and plunging neckline," he stopped, sipping his tea and looking at them- Dhruba listening with all his ears while Namita continued to scroll through her mobile.

"Who wears such a plunging-neckline kurti to office that… that exposes your deep cleavage so prominently? And the kurti is so translucent that the black and dotted bra is hardly hidden. The kurti fits onto her body perfectly, and you notice every curve, no matter how much you try to avoid noticing it," Arup added, as he lit another cigarette.

"She looks good, really good, I will admit and… but don't you think the dress is a bit too much for office?" he asked, slightly dreamy.

He was lost in his thoughts when Namita snapped her fingers, bringing him back to reality.

"Oye! That's it? Did the office gossip about Jonali's dress or was it you and your mind? Ahem, is everything fine everywhere?" Namita teased Arup, winking at Dhruba, as the duo laughed looking at Arup.

"Arey… nothing like that. Abbey… Well…" Arup blushed.

As they finished their tea and lit one more cigarette each, Arup added, "There is more. You see, it is hard not to notice her every time she enters a room or passes in front of you. People's heads turn when she passes by- feels out of place, somehow."

"Arup, do you find her exposing, or do you find her a confident young lady who gives a damn about society as she is comfortable with what she wears, how she walks, how she stands or what others see of her? Well, she has a naturally thick and large figure and whatever she wears, she would look — as you say — maal. I mean… we can’t help the stares and the glares, no matter what we wear," Namita, who had been patiently listening to Arup, said, asking him a few sharp questions.

"And what if that's her confidence that is being reflected in her demeanour? Anyways, we are hardly used to seeing a confident woman owning her space," she added, raising her eyebrows slightly irritated.

"Well, I don't think that is her confidence here. It is like… anyone showing off that much of skin is bound to draw attention and perhaps she is doing just that… Don't know why, or for whom?" Arup flustered.

Dhruba interjected, his voice gentle. "Arup, you are describing a woman who is comfortable in her own skin, not someone trying to provoke reactions. You would have said nothing if it was a man in a tight shirt with buttons open and revealing his chest, paired with skinny trousers."

"And that is the difference. People think confidence plus style on a woman equals distraction and sleaze, but confidence on a man equals leadership. It is the usual double standard. Honestly, Arup?" Namita said in a crisp tone, leaning forward.

Arup looked at Namita, hesitating. "Maybe the difference lies in there, but I don’t think I am alone in feeling this, you know? Everyone notices."

She replied with a slight smile, "Of course they do. But maybe what needs to change is how you notice, and why you let it bother you."

Dhruba, who was listening to the two attentively, knew the discussion would stretch. He walked up to Deka Da and ordered three more cups of tea, lit a cigarette and sat near Arup.

"Arup, you have lived in Guwahati all your life, right? You know how people here are- half traditional, half modern. Maybe we are still learning how to adjust to that mix," he said in a soft and calm tone.

"Exactly!" Arup said, looking slight relieved, as if he has finally found an ally.

"There's something about small-city offices. In Bangalore or Mumbai, nobody blinks. But here…" he added quickly, looking at Dhruba, hoping he would stand by him.

"But here, what?" Dhruba asked sharply.

"Guwahati or Delhi, Mumbai or Bangalore- mindsets like these are unwelcome everywhere and anywhere. What I meant is that Guwahati is still learning, and you, having lived here all your life, a convent-educated man, should at least step above the ‘still learning’ phase," he said, wiping Arup's short-lived happiness.

The tea arrived, and each one of them started sipping their cups, looking down, without speaking.

Breaking the silence, which was getting somewhat uncomfortable, Namita said, "Why do we get uncomfortable seeing confidence? Or why do we label it as attention-seeking? I have seen this pattern in every office where I have worked in my short career so far."

Arup blew on his tea and said, "Okay, fine. Maybe I am old-fashioned, despite being convent-educated. But don't you think there is still something to be said for workplace decorum? Like, if I walked in wearing flashy shirts every day, people would talk too."

Namita smiled knowingly.

"And they would call you stylish or quirky. They would stop, stare at you, laugh, and then move on. But if a woman dresses differently, it becomes a full-blown debate. Why the double standard?"

"Because society notices, that's all. I am not judging her or perhaps I am… but… perhaps I am, unconsciously," he protested.

"Unconscious judgement still counts. We all do it. Maybe not out of malice, but habit," Dhruba added softly.

A speeding bus zipped past them at a very high speed, blaring its horn relentlessly, pushing them once again into an easy silence.

A Bhupen Hazarika song playing on Deka Da's radio broke the silence, snapping them back to reality.

Arup gave Namita a thoughtful gaze and said, "Okay, confession time. I think she looks really confident today. Maybe that is what’s unsettling. Male chauvinism- perhaps I am not able to digest the way she has owned her space."

"Ah, now we are getting honest," Namita grinned.

"Don't twist my words," he said quickly.

"She is good at her work. Watching people give her attention, an intern, just… makes me feel a bit out of place, I guess. I am used to getting attention. After all, she is an intern in my department," Arup added, making an honest and blunt confession.

"That's fair, that's absolutely fair, Arup. Confidence has that effect. Some people admire it, some feel challenged by it. It's good that you have come face to face with your vulnerability. I appreciate you coming out," Dhruba said.

"See, that's the real issue. Not her clothes," Namita nodded, sipping her tea.

"This is the perfect example of how we react to confidence, especially when it does not fit our mental boxes. You won't bat an eyelid if a man wears something bold. But a woman? It becomes an office topic; rather say a personal topic in the guise of a serious office matter. Wonder if it was just you or others who noticed Jonali and her dress today," Namita said, winking teasingly at Arup.

Arup scratched his head, smiling reluctantly, and said, "You always make me sound like the villain."

"No, you are just representing the average mindset. At least you are honest about it. Most won't even admit they notice. You are not a villain, but a grey hero," she said.

"It's interesting, though. Offices are like microcosms of society. People bring in all their values, prejudices, insecurities. And somehow, they all meet at a tea stall," Dhruba said, standing up from the wall and stretching his body.

"Philosopher Dhruba is back," Arup said, pointing at him with his cigarette hand, the three bursting into a mild giggle.

"Hey, look across the street," she said, tapping Dhruba’s right shoulder and asking both of them to watch over the street, pointing her finger at someone on the other side.

They turned to glance at the street. Across the road were Jonali and three other interns, giggling over a shared cake with three tea cups in their hands. Mrinal, the HR manager, stood a few steps away, talking on the phone to someone, smiling. All of them were busy in their own world, while food delivery boys lined up near the restaurant located on the ground floor of their office building to collect their orders.

And amid all this, life went on- casual, chaotic, intertwined.

"You know what I love about Guwahati? It's right in between worlds. You will see a man in a dhoti walking next to someone in ripped jeans, both buying tea from the same stall. That’s our city, our office too- a mix of everything," Namita said in a half-serious tone, with Dhruba and Arup looking at her in awe.

"True that. Maybe I should get used to it," Arup said, smiling faintly.

"Exactly," she said, supporting his opinion.

"Look there, how confidently she stands with three male interns. The people are passing by, perhaps staring at her cleavage, her bums, her thighs- but she is unfazed. She isn't thinking what others are thinking or looking at. You should also stop overthinking. Let people wear what they want to wear and start upgrading your own fashion sense instead," she added, smiling.

Everyone laughed. The tension melted.

Another gust of breeze sailed by, caressing their lips and carrying the smell of the Brahmaputra.

Deka Da called out, refilling their cups automatically, "One more round, children?"

"Sure, Deka Da, why not. Last one, or else we will end up missing our stand-up meeting," Dhruba said.

"Stand-up meeting after actually standing here- how ironical," Arup said jokingly.

They lingered a few minutes more, sipping quietly. A goat ambled past, a few boys ran towards the Brahmaputra sandbar with a bat and a ball in their hands. The city hummed with life.

Finally, as they prepared to head back, Namita looked at Arup and said, "Next time you catch yourself commenting on someone’s clothes, just ask yourself why it bothers you. It is a good filter."

"Fine, lesson noted," Arup replied, hands up.

They crossed the road together, dodging traffic, half-laughing, half-reflective. The glass doors of their building slid open, swallowing them back into corporate time.

"Did she know anything? I mean, the way she looked at me and smiled, I feel she was a bit sarcastic? I mean, it was just you two that I told what I felt. Then how did she…?" Arup asked them about Jonali’s reaction when they walked past her and entered the office building.

"She probably knows that you were being judgemental about her and that you have a prejudiced view. People sense when they are talked about," Dhruba said with a smile, putting his arm around Arup’s neck.

Behind them, Deka Da’s tea stall continued as always — the perpetual witness to quiet judgements, laughter, and realisations- all floating in the steam of a thousand tea glasses under Guwahati’s mellow sun.

ALSO READ | The Reunion Of The Batch Of '95