Flashback

April 10, 2010

Humid weather, crowded streets, noise pollution, smell of fish…. I was back in Mumbai! And it was a great feeling. I had missed this city like hell in my last two years of stay in the UK. Had missed this feeling of “being at home”.

It was six o’clock in the evening when I parked my car at the Kala Ghoda parking lot. My wife Komal had an appointment with a famous beautician having her spa near Watson’s Hotel.

“Sumeet, it will take me two hours at the spa. What will you do till then?”

“I will hang around at the Jehangir Art Gallery. Give me a call once you are done.”

“Will do.”

She kissed me on my cheek and got out of the car.

It has been eighteen years since we are married. She has put on some weight over the years and does not look as stunning as she used to. But she has been a great wife. And a great mother.

I studied my face in the side mirror. I simply look “handsome”. My friends call me Mr. Clooney because of my dimpled chin. My father also had a dimpled chin. Even his father did. It just adds a star to our handsome Punjabi looks.

I locked my car and walked down to the Jehangir Art Gallery. There was an Indonesian painting exhibition.

I was observing a Persian miniature when I saw her.

She looked at me at the same moment.

And the time was locked.

My mind wheeled back to around twenty years.

To the days when I was working as a sales guy for an FMCG company. I did not have a slightest idea at that time that I would move on to become a very successful businessman in future.

But she always knew that I was going to make it big in life. She was just too confident about it.

Her name was Anamika. Her friends called her “Anu”. I used to call her “Annu”.

She was a Maharashtrian girl from Pune. One year elder to me. Used to work for an accounting firm.

We had a common friend who introduced both of us. And it started from there and soon converted to an affair.

I was madly, truly, deeply in love. And so was she.

We used to meet at the Churchgate station every evening. We just loved being with each other.

It went on for almost two years. On one Sunday, she said to me,

“Sumeet, I am getting worried. It was supposed to come ten days ago.”

I thought over it. I knew she used to take some pill. And when we made out that month, it was “safe period” too.

So I reassured her,

“Don’t worry. It does get delayed sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“Hmmm… yes it does. But not for this long too.”

“You did take the pill, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.”

“And if your calculations were correct, it was safe period as well!”

“I guess so…”

“Then we don’t have anything to worry about. Let’s wait for another 4-5 days.”

We did.

But it did not come.

I asked her to visit a gynecologist.

She did.

“The test was positive.”

“Positive means?”

“I am pregnant.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“See these reports.”

“Oh my god!”

That was the last thing I had expected.

Maybe I should not have been so careless.

I should have worn it.

But that was immaterial now.

“Sumeet, what do we do now?”

What kind of question was it?

“Of course, we get rid of it!”

“But why? Can’t we get married? I will talk to my dad today…”

“Don’t be stupid. Both of us don’t earn enough to get married and raise a child in Mumbai. I still stay in a rented house with my parents and 2 sisters. It is just not possible!”

“Please don’t take a temperamental decision. I know you will succeed fast and we will be rich soon. We will together make your dream of owning a steel plant come true. We will work hard.”

“Stop being foolish. Let’s consult an abortionist. “

She protested some more.

But finally gave up.

It was a Friday evening.

The abortionist had suggested a surgical abortion as it was too late to perform a medical one.

It was supposed to be done on Monday morning. Annu was needed to stay in the hospital for the whole of that day.

I called up at the office and informed them that I would not be coming on Saturday and Monday.

She did the same.

It was going to be a horrible weekend.

She never blamed me alone for the whole thing. She kept saying, “It was our fault… We should have been more careful… probably there is nothing called safe period as such… etc etc.”

But somewhere in my mind I was not convinced.

How was it possible?

We had been doing that since over a year. It never occurred before.

Safe Period + A Birth Control Pill = No Pregnancy.

No. Just not possible.

I actually said this to her,

“But we did take precautions, didn’t we? It was a safe period. You took the pill before. And after too. How can everything go wrong?”

“I am also wondering about the same thing Sumeet. But the fact is, something did go wrong. Let’s face it now.”

I was still not convinced.

I drank for the whole night.

I was so badly betrayed.

I trusted her more than myself. Always thought she was loyal to me.

It was my first ever affair. Had never even touched a girl in my life.

Put so many restrictions on myself. Never thought of another girl even in my dreams.

She also said it was her first affair.

But she did not bleed the first time, did she?

She said that not all the girls did. And I believed her.

Bloody characterless woman.

I should have known from the start… sometimes she used to behave mysteriously… used to make me wait at Churchgate station for hours… used to say she had a lot of pending work at the office…

But how would I know if she was telling the truth?

I did not know what she used to do after 8:30 in the night. I used to drop her at her place and we used to get to speak only the next day. What did she do the whole night?

Sometimes she used to talk so highly of her boss. His talent, personality and stuff.

She was an ambitious girl. Wanted to excel fast. Wanted to get promoted fast.

You never know about a girl’s character.

You never know.

She called me at our house phone number on Sunday. I said let’s directly meet at the abortion centre on Monday as I was very much disturbed.

She wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful. Wasn’t so smart either. I wondered what made me fall in love with such a girl. Probably because I thought she was good in character. But that wasn’t the case anymore.

She had taken advantage of my trust.

No, I could not fall victim for someone else’s fault.

No.

I sat down for drinking again in the night.

And found myself crying too.

Bloody I loved her through all my heart and soul.

And she did that to me.

With shaking hands, I took a pen and paper.

“Anamika (not Annu anymore), thank you for making me realize that I should not trust any woman in this world. That baby is not mine. I don’t know if the actual responsible person is your boss or anyone else from your big circle of male friends. And I don’t care too. I never put any restrictions on you and I let you hang out with anyone you wished. I did not use to quite appreciate your going for parties/dinners with a group full of boys. But I never objected to it as I trusted you. And I am paying the price. Please never ever try to contact me again. I don’t even wish to see your face. Get rid of that sin tomorrow. And be careful in future. Please avoid playing with someone’s feelings, if possible. Goodbye.”

I took an envelope, put that letter and some money into it, sealed it and drove down to her hostel. I left that envelope with the security guard and requested him to give it to Anamika, first thing in the morning.

And I never saw her again. She never ever tried to contact me.

She never contacted our common friend as well.

No one knew where she went after that.

And here she was. In front of me. Tears rolling down her face.

I wanted to say something but could not gather enough words. My hand was about to raise to touch her hair when a tall, handsome guy came to her and said,

“Mom, let’s leave now. I am getting bored!”

She turned to leave. Walked a few steps. Again turned around, looked at me for a long moment.

Then she left.

And the world around me started moving.

Not because I had seen her after so many years.

But because I had seen the dimpled chin of her son.

One Fine Day…

October 17, 2009

Shit happens Rahul… I explain once again to myself.

It is one of those days when everything has to go wrong, has to go against you…
It begins with an amazing adult SMS that explains a woman’s anatomy in a brutally funny manner. One of my colleagues sends it to me when I am asleep. I wake up at around 4:30 pm, read it with sleepy eyes, and accidentally forward it to Komal, one of my old friends from the school, and a very decent girl.

I realize that after having my tea. I immediately call Komal to explain that the SMS was an accident and was not meant for her… but she cuts the call. I send an SMS explaining it was an accident. She doesn’t reply. I try calling her after an hour.

She doesn’t answer again.

Yeah… shit happens.

I miss the gym as usual. Have a hot water bath. Eat my oatmeal. And start leaving for work at 6:00pm.

Mom stops me at the door,

“Rahul beta, wear your raincoat. It’s gonna rain outside.”

I tend to ignore it. It doesn’t rain in the 2nd week of October in Pune, does it?

Mom doesn’t back out. She runs to me with the raincoat and a cap in her hands. She makes me wear the raincoat. I refuse to wear the cap. It disturbs my spikes. She lets it go.

I am 20. Fresh out of college.

I stay at Chandani Chowk. Work at a remote place called Kharadi. Fucking too far from my place.

The company that I work for doesn’t provide me with any transport, though it requires me to work at odd hours.

I button-start my Karizma and hit Paud Road.

The traffic is already in a pretty fucked-up shape. I get stuck for 15 minutes at the Paud Phata signal. My head starts spinning as some assholes don’t stop continuous honking as if they are the only ones stuck.

And the fuck up happens again.

As I make my way through the traffic towards Gulmohar Path which connects Karve Road to Law College Road from SNDT, it starts raining.

And it is not the usual one that starts with a slow drizzling and then falls in an increasing order. It just starts so heavily it knocks the air out of me.

And I just hate rains. Just hate getting drenched. Especially when I am not on my way home. It makes me feel very uncomfortable. And I am not a macho man—I catch cold easily. And I don’t particularly enjoy it.

My raincoat doesn’t prove to be efficient enough to protect me from such a hard rain. I get drenched. Inside out. I stop for a shelter on Law College Road, on the footpath opposite HDFC Bank, and take a shelter below some bushes.

Not sufficient enough to protect me though.

There are other people like me. Most of them returning home from work, not so worried.

Some seem to be enjoying getting drenched. Balls to them.

I try lighting a cigarette, but the lighter gives up.

I spontaneously say “fuck!” and a lady gives me a look.

Bitch.

I am already pretty mindfucked because of the SMS incident. Not in a mood to behave myself in the public.

It starts raining even more heavily and I realize that the bushes are not helping at all. I keep my bike parked there, and run to the shutters of HDFC Bank. There are already many of them stranded.

I become one of them.

My phone starts vibrating. Office number. My fucking boss.

“Hello?”
“Rahul, where the fuck are you? It’s already 7:15!”
“Boss, hope you know it’s raining fucking too hard here in the city. I am stuck at Law College Road.”

“Oh… aren’t you wearing a raincoat?”

“I am. But it’s not enough, boss. I am drenched completely. I will be underestimating my situation if I say I’m totally fucked.”

His tone changes a bit.
“Okay Rahul, stop there till it stops. It’s okay if you come late.”
“Boss, do I have to come?”
“Yes, you have to come. Patricia has asked for you twice already.”

Patricia is our bitch of a client. Canadian.

I have a strong feeling that she is lesbian. Don’t know why. I had recently read about an American author named Patricia being lesbian. And this feeling just struck.

This is how my mind works. Too much going on at the same time. Sarcasm, dirty remarks, frustration… all taking a creative pervert shape most of the times.

Fifteen minutes pass by. It doesn’t seem to stop raining.

And I start feeling lonely…

I broke up with someone at Law College Road… 3 years ago… memories flash by…

I start to think about my disturbing childhood… eventful teenage… girls that I went out with… girls that I ditched… girls that dumped on me… crazy life… insane…

An around 45-50 year old man pushes me from behind and asks me to stand properly. Don’t know why. Must be one of those that just can’t stand the youth. Dickhead. And there are a lot like them around.

I just give him a weird look. Don’t say anything. You can’t fuck-up with random people in big cities. You never know who has connections in the higher. And importantly, in the lower. I just let it go.

There is a couple standing with us. Cute one. Trying their best not to display any affection towards each other in public. Brings a smile on my lips. Reminds me of my current stupid girlfriend.

I call her up.

“Hey Priya, wassup?”

She starts shouting,

“Where the fuck have you been? I have been trying to call you since 4:30? Why did you not answer my calls?”

The girl standing next to me gets to hear that. The girl is wearing a swine-flu mask. Has a hot figure. I imagine her face to be equally hotter. And feel embarrassed as Priya continues barking on the other side of the phone,

“Don’t you know how special today is for me? It’s Rocky’s birthday, he turned 4 today. I thought you would call up to wish…”

I hang up on her.

The thought of that monster doggie, Rocky, makes me feel sick in my stomach.

Am I supposed to remember that dog’s birthday too? Suck this!

Priya tries calling me back 3-4 times. I do not answer.

I start observing the girl with the mask and tight figure. I can figure out a smile behind that mask too.

Beauty is meant to be admired, isn’t it?

And someone’s cell phone rings. Pretty loud but a good ring tone.

It is another hottie. Wearing a revealing top with low waist Levi’s. She starts speaking in a childish yet seductive tone,

“Where are you dear? I got wet, you know-“

So she means she got “drenched”. Pervert mind, Rahul, not fair. Think straight. At least for a change.

Water drops make their way from her waist in her jeans and I try my best not to look at the procedure of getting wet… lol…

She speaks a different Hindi. Must be from North. Very fair and firm. Curvy.

Why don’t I get such a girlfriend? Why doesn’t my girlfriend speak with me the way this chick is speaking to her boyfriend?

Too bad this girl has a boyfriend. Otherwise I would have asked her out straightaway. Come on Rahul, what’s wrong with you?

The dickhead that pushed me also starts speaking on the phone,

“Why isn’t my Audi ready yet? I am getting wet!”

He is loud enough to make other poor people like me understand that he is not just one of us. He has an Audi and only because it is not “ready” yet he has to spend some time with the masses.

He is probably faking the call. But has managed to make a good impression. Most of the stranded ones will find his pushing me reasonable now. Understandable though.

And another fuck up. Not a serious one. But the tight figured girl removes her mask. Don’t know what makes her do that. And she is a fuckface. Totally opposite of what her figure is. Much older than what I thought she was.

She notices a clear disappointment in my eyes. Probably repents the action of removing the mask.

I can’t help it. I am yet to reach a stage where people respect the inner beauty and stuff. At the moment, inner beauty for me is beauty inside the clothes…. Pervert, I say to myself.

My phone starts vibrating. Boss again. From his cell phone this time. I cut the call.

He immediately sends a text message, “ Rahul, please try to come as soon as possible. We have a call with Patricia now.”

Motherfucker.

Sometimes I wonder if my boss ever has sex in his life. He is thirty-five. Married. No kids yet.

I have never seen him coming in the office, neither have I seen him leaving the office. He is just always there in the office. His eyes glued to his PC.

Pretty frustrated in life. Or workaholic, for that matter.

It’s a very good learning experience though. You hate your boss’s face. He hates yours. Still you work together on projects. Meet the deadlines. Somewhere down the line both of you start respecting each other. But yeah, you still hate each other’s face.

A BMW stops in front of the bank. The door opens. The girl that got “wet” shouts,

Bhaiyya, I am here!”

Starts running towards the car. So she was speaking to her brother! Not to some other guy! That does not necessarily mean she doesn’t have a boyfriend. But the hope is still there.

I wish the hottie turns back once before entering the car. Gives me a smile. Then writes her cell number on the steam of the window glass.

She doesn’t turn back. Neither does she write the number on the glass.

I again try to light a cigarette. But to no joy. Fuck it.

The rain seems to get softer now. A few people make a move.

I don’t want to go to work. I am completely “wet”. Don’t want to go to office and spend another 7 hours with drenched clothes. I will definitely get swine flu if I am forced to work like this.

Only if my boss understood. Fucker.

My phone vibrates again. Either Priya or my fucking boss. Surprisingly it’s Komal.
I hesitate for a moment. Feel like avoiding the awkward conversation. But I finally answer, in an intentional guilty-feeling tone, I say,

“Hello…”

“Hey hiiiii…. wassup?”

What is this? Is it actually Komal? Why is she speaking in such a lively tone?

Or did she not receive the SMS?

That wasn’t possible though, as I had received the delivery report. And Komal is one of those who check their cell phone for messages and missed calls every micro second.

“Hey Komal, hope you understand it was an accident….”

“I do understand it was an accident dude… but was a great one… I just loved that message… amazing… forwarded to some of my girl—friends too. They also loved it… thanks for that one… “

Was it actually happening? Komal wasn’t the ones that tend to be sarcastic at times.

Great… so I should have taken it lightly… fucking great…

“Komal, you know what, I was feeling very guilty and awkward… can’t tell you how disturbed I was…”

“Come on dude, I know you’re a decent guy. Happens. And I am not a child anymore. You can send me such messages… no one’s that innocent anymore…”

Yeah, true!

“Then why did you not answer my calls?”

“Arre, I was “trying” to study at that time, and mom was sitting in the same room. She gave me a hard look when my phone started ringing. So could not answer. Anyway, what’ up with Priya?”

The tension eases down a lot. I speak with her for some more time, making sure she is still the same, and the bonding that we share is still there.

The rain stops completely. I tell her I need to make a move. She wishes me a nice night at work.

I move towards my bike. And this fucking phone vibrates again.

Boss’s message.

I feel like not opening it and heading straight towards work, but I do otherwise.

Rahul, I understand it is raining very badly out there. It would be OK if you did not turn up today. Do make sure you come on time tomorrow though.

Fuck! Was it some prank or was it actually my boss?

It isn’t meant to be so fucked up day after all.

I start my bike, head towards my home at Chandani Chowk, wishing my boss’s wife gives him a mind blowing blow-job tonight…

Nap- Snap

August 19, 2009

It hasn’t been long since I’ve read this line on a firang‘s blog– “Indians can sleep anywhere!”

The comment is written by a Western lady who writes about her everyday life in the city of Mumbai.

The same comment flashed in my mind two days ago when we were passing through one of the roads in Kalyani Nagar, one of the plush locales in Pune. In the shadow of the roadside trees, a man was sleeping on his bike.

We stopped and took a U-turn. Stopped the bike very close to the sleeping man. I wanted to click a snap . . .

It was already too late when I realized that the man had opened his eyes and had seen me fixing the camera angle on him. . . we ran from there but I had somehow managed to click this snap….

Sleeping Man

The First Rain in Pune

June 6, 2009

Yesterday, cloudy skies, gentle breeze, coupled with dust storms and soft rain over several parts of Pune brought cheer to the residents of this bustling city who were fed up of the scorching heat. Though there were reports of long traffic jams and trees falling down in major areas like Koregaon Park and Camp, the first rain did not create much of a damage.

But it is just a beginning.

Pune Monsoon

With all due respect to all the romantic poets and lovers, I never find getting drenched in the rain to be enjoyable as such. Apart from bringing me cold and fever it also gets me some uneasy feeling that brings my spirits down.

Today evening I went out on my bike to buy some groceries and it unexpectedly started raining again. And it was not a soft rain like yesterday. Within thirty seconds I got drenched from tip to top. It was not very late when I realized that it was not very safe to ride on Paud Road in a situation where anything was barely visible because of the heavy rain drops and took a halt at my favorite restaurant, Tiranga. It was just 7:45, not my dinner time yet, so I settled down for a Coke. But I was not at all comfortable in my drenched jeans and could not control a sneeze before I took a sip.

And it is just a beginning.

I should better be prepared to get screwed in another rainy season!

Career Switch

May 16, 2009

Just when everything is going against me at my workplace and I am seriously considering to take a sabbatical, I still can’t stop myself from looking for other opportunities available in the market. When I loggd on to Monster to update my CV today, this article caught my attention: http://content.monsterindia.com/ic1.html?blogID=24524 .

Hope it helps all those who are considering a “switch” at this moment. And I know there are handful of them who are…

Hello world!

May 8, 2009

It’s 3:31 in the morning on the digital clock as I am making this entry in the Notepad of my system.  This message will be available for the world to view when I wake up and publish it on my new blog. But at this moment, I can’t connect to the internet. Not because of the usual “server down” problem of Tata Indicom, today it’s MSEB that is responsible for no internet connectivity, and of course, no electricity. It is probably the first time I am experiencing a power-cut in the night in this beautiful locale of Ideal Colony.

Well, writing is something that I’ve been doing since as long as I can remember. Be that writing short suspense/comedy stories while in school, starting a new venture called “novel writing” while in junior college, or writing restaurant reviews while at office. But for those who can write, writing is something that needs ample time, relaxed mind and a perfect “mood’. While the first two are not very difficult to achieve, creating the third one is surprisingly difficult and that’s why many thoughts in brilliant minds are left unwritten.

So let’s thank this power-cut for setting a perfect mood for a not-so-brilliant mind to start its new blog :)
This blog will be completely miscellaneous, to write about absolutely anything from the tragedy of a street beggar to a grocery shopowner’s sexy daughter!

I request all the readers to be active on this blog, and feel free to disagree, debate and post comments on all the posts.

Wish me happy blogging!

Good night Pune!


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.