Chapter 5: Taking a Stand
Next time we went to see the plan, Arjun actually took time off to come with me.
He arrived in a rush, hair uncombed, still in office formals. It was the first time he’d prioritised this meeting. I tried to hope for the best.
Meera presented the latest renderings, and her assistant kept urging me to settle on this plan.
They spoke in a rehearsed rhythm, selling me a vision that didn’t feel like mine. The assistant hovered, pen ready.
“According to your requests, we worked overtime to redo everything, Mrs. Iyer. Please take a look…”
There was a hint of irritation, as if my opinions were becoming a nuisance.
Before I could say anything, Arjun started praising it.
His voice was bright, almost forced. “Bohot accha hai, Meera. Ananya, just look at this! So simple, so elegant.”
“It’s great—simple and elegant. I think it’s really good. Let’s go with this version.”
He barely glanced at me, eyes fixed on Meera as if awaiting approval. I felt like an outsider at my own meeting.
I couldn’t help but glance at Arjun. As he spoke, he shot a quick look at Meera.
Their silent exchange did not escape me. My chest tightened.
Meera didn’t look back, but the corners of her mouth curled up in a smug smile. She smoothed her dupatta, clearly pleased with herself. My frustration grew.
I pushed aside the contract the assistant handed over and said directly, “I’m not satisfied.”
My voice was firmer than before. I was done being polite. Unconsciously, I adjusted my mangalsutra and smoothed my dupatta, grounding my resolve in a gesture I’d seen my mother do a thousand times.
I’d done my homework for over a month and had seen at least five similar cookie-cutter designs on various Instagram and Pinterest accounts.
I flipped through screenshots on my phone. “Look—this exact pattern is everywhere. Where’s the originality?”
It was nice, but not unique—and certainly not worth the price they quoted.
The numbers spun in my head—twenty lakh for this? Not a chance.
When I said this, Meera quickly looked at Arjun.
She pursed her lips, annoyance visible. Arjun shifted in his chair, uncomfortable.
Arjun cleared his throat and gently held my hand. “Ananya, what are you not satisfied with? I think it’s really good. Sometimes the renderings don’t tell the whole story—the real effect is what matters.”
He tried to cajole me, squeezing my fingers lightly. But I stayed firm.
“Aren’t you being too picky about the details?”
He tried to joke, but it fell flat.
The assistant chimed in, “Yes, Mr. Iyer knows what he’s talking about. The final look is what matters most.”
She nodded, as if this was the obvious solution. I felt ganged up on.
“Meera is our senior designer, with plenty of experience.”
Another vote in Meera’s favour. I felt my temper rising.
I shook my head. “No means no. Here, and here—I don’t like either.”
I circled areas on the plans, refusing to back down.
Arjun wanted to say more, but I stopped him.
I shot him a look that said, Enough.
“Didn’t you say our first house should be treated with care?”
I reminded him of his own words, hoping he’d understand.
“So if I’m picky, what’s wrong with that?”
I met his eyes, refusing to blink first.
Then I turned to Meera again.
I squared my shoulders, voice steady.
“Meera, your company’s fee isn’t ten lakh, or five lakh—it’s twenty lakh.”
I tapped the contract. "Ye koi choti moti baat nahi hai."
“A thousand-square-foot home, and the renovation fee is definitely not cheap, right?”
I spread the papers on the table. "Yahan sab kuch likha hai."
“Besides, I made my preferences clear from the very first consultation.”
I emphasised each word. “Modern, simple—no pink, no frills.”
“So why do you think that for such a big project, you can just do two versions and I’ll sign right away?”
My frustration spilled over. “Main compromise nahi karungi. Not on this.”
Meera’s face turned sour.
She looked at me like I was a stubborn child. I stared back, unflinching.
Arjun’s expression also darkened.
His jaw clenched. The air between us crackled with tension.
Meera closed her laptop and forced a smile. “Alright, I’ll hurry and revise another version.”
Her tone was icy, but I didn’t care. For the first time, I felt in control.