Malek Arifhusen Ahmedbhai

We have our spot at 134 R C Dutt Road. It’s a busy street, as anyone in this town could tell you. There’s always cars honking and people rushing by on the sidewalk. Our building is one of the older ones on the block, so it has a bit of character, or at least that’s what I tell myself when the elevator is acting up. We usually keep a stack of old newspapers on the side table, though nobody really reads them anymore. Inside, it’s just a plain office. We have our computers and some chairs that have seen better days. It’s not the kind of place where you’ll find fancy art on the walls or a coffee machine that does anything but plain black coffee. We like being on R C Dutt Road because it’s central. It makes it easier for us to get around and for people to find us, even if the traffic is a mess most afternoons. We usually arrive around nine and stay until the work is finished. There’s no big corporate vibe here. We talk to each other like normal people and we don’t use any of those buzzwords you hear in big companies. It’s just a small operation. We’ve been here long enough that we know the guys at the tea stall nearby. It’s a simple, straightforward way to work. We just focus on the day’s list and try to stay organized among all the papers.