Khoobsurat Mod
Chalo ek baar phir se ajnabi ban jaye hum dono...
The lilting melody rode in with the cusps of wind carrying the fragrance of hot chai with mirchi bajjis and chutney from the numerous stalls lining the tiny, dirty ally he was walking down. On a normal day, he would probably taken the main road. On a normal day, he would have probably taken the bus. He bumped into people at random in the highly crowded side lanes of one of his favourite areas in the City. He looked unperturbed by the noise, the stench mixed with the appetizing aroma of fried snacks, creating an almost nauseating effect on the olfactory senses of anyone within a mile. He was muttering 'Vidyarthi Bhavan', 'Dose', 'Coffee' and 'Rava Vada' in seemingly random outbursts. There was nobody to give him strange looks nor to laugh at his seemingly lunatic behaviour. He turned a sharp right pushing aside a little boy selling flowers. The boy almost fell as he thrust out his hand and caught him. The little boy scowled apparently not happy with the treatment meted out to him in the hands of this seemingly out of place 'big people' as his grandfather used to describe. He muttered a robotic apology , forgetting where he was. He smiled at the wasted 'Sorry' and moved forward.
The once majestic sign of the 'Vidyarthi Bhavan' looked pale around the new age neon signs flashing around it. In fact the little hole-in-the-wall was almost invisible behind the flower vendor's stalls with huge plantain leaves blocking the view from the road. He walked in and glanced around. It was so much more fun, he thought, waiting with her. She would always know which table to stand next to. An instinct, he feared he would never acquire. The busy waiter expertly dodged the tray around the hungry people standing in line while he served piping hot 'Benne Massale' to the table he was standing next to. He remembered her marveling at how no matter how careless the waiter was, not a drop of chutney would spill out the plate. He saw an old gentleman hurriedly finishing his coffee as he glanced at the big grandfather clock on the opposite wall. He instinctively moved ahead, inching his way towards the soon-to-be-empty seat. Nobody seemed to object since there wasn't a 'single seat' among those nearest to the table. The old man counted his change and left in a hurry. He slid down into the seat and there was a waiter immediately by his side. He ordered 2 'Benne Massale' and 2 coffees. The waiter up-selled him to include 2 Rava Vadas as well and vanished with a mysterious grin.
He played with his cell phone as the waiter brought in the Vadas. He wondered if he should message her. Tell her he's having all her favourite 'tindis'. He knew he would get some kind of reaction from her. It would probably end in a fight, but he craved for some reaction, any reaction from her. He remembered the last time. He had relentlessly sent messages, gave missed call until she replied with a vitriolic message. He enjoyed the idea of her getting annoyed. Probably the only emotion he could evoke out of her now. He contemplated a while before slipping the phone in his pocket. It was not worth it. The fight, the ensuing period of total silence, the feelings of utter hopelessness and melancholy that followed. The urge to end it all and find peace. The hatred, the helplessness. He sighed a loud sigh quite forgetting where he was. He emptied his Vadas and the 'Benne Masalas' magically hovered in sight the moment his table was cleared. There was no room for inefficiency in Vidyarti Bhavan, he thought as he licked his lips in anticipation. He polished off the Dosas in gulps of delightful, ghee flavoured, spicy ecstasy, each morsel seemingly feeding his anger, cooling it down somehow. He burped a burp of contentment and readied himself for the 'filter caaffee'.
He walked out with a smile, slightly worried about the number of calories he had piled on. He resolutely declared he would knock them off at the Gym tomorrow and walked back into the dark alley just as the world plunged into darkness as the ever vigilant BESCOM decided to cut off power to Gandhi Bazaar as soon as they saw a little lightning. He walked in the cool night breeze, feeling his anger fade away, feeling light-headed and care free. He pulled out his phone and typed his message out. 'Good bye' he typed as the power came back on and the last few lines of the song played back in an infinite loop in his head, as they had all evening.
"Tarruf rog ho jaye to usko bhoolna behtar,
Tallukh bojh ban jaye to usko chodna achha,
Woh afsana jise anjaam tak lana na ho mumkin,
Use ek khoobsurat mod dekar chodna achha."
He hit the cancel button on his phone and walked along as it started to drizzle lightly. He looked at the sky and smiled.