The Last Call !!!

BACKHOE (Pictorial Representation) aka ME

CR – Abhi

Global consultant & Neetu – Sridhar

Dementia – My second track

Kaput – my good side

Index

Void ab initio – deemed invalid since begining

“बस आखिरी कॉल!  फिर नहीं !” It is difficult to finish a never ending conversation.  A tsunami might have hit 10 meters away, a lightning thunder must have roasted Neetu, and finally I could see CR shutting his mouth up with asphyxiation. I might have been hallucinating, though I wished for a moment it was true at least for CR; night seemed to be colder than before in Jampot and a claustrophobic feel entrenched me beneath an open sky.

My fear was staring at me; “In your face Bro!”; harder was to allay the thought of not calling her tomorrow. No more of colossal bills, no more of SMS recharge packages, would Bharti Airtel go bankrupt (the demented MBAian spoke again), even smoke rings looked like sore arses.

A pause, “tomorrow, I’m getting married “. I was taken down by shrillness of Abhi’s voice, “साले QUIZ का टाइम हो रहा है दोनों साले कहाँ @#$@# रहे हो!!” “Fuck you CR, another word you utter and I would get a crane, pick you with your balls…..” for the first time I felt like a Backhoe (the mean crane machine). CR could well sense the gravity of the situation and left blabbering for some other location.

“You there?” yeah very much, but not in totality, a part me had been sucked into void.  The night seemed to grow darker, colder, emptier and blunt.  I felt this vicious week was at fault, all Indian were at fault, how whole of India can get married in November. “सबको शादी करने की पड़ी है, ##$^%^ ! शादी न हो गयी चरस हो गयी बो दो सबकी २३@#@#$” (Dementia speaks!)

The noises in background subdued, I couldn’t utter a word, she was leaving me, I recollected myself, swallowed the lump which grew heavy with each second, I said those three magical words, “all the best !”.  ( Crash ! Seriously dude, after a courtship period of 6 years all she gets to hear is “ALL THE BEST!”, and what is so magical about it.) The three words can fit in any situation (Dementia speaks!) ;   I tried, tried and tried, all I could utter were words which seemed utter sham, we exchanged few rounds of warmth, few more rounds of conversations, few more…... It lasted for an hour.

She said: “Good Bye! I’ll see you soon.” That’s it I suppose. ”What did she mean by see you soon?” I stood there in the corridor all alone staring into the void, She dropped off, why me? Why her, why us, why the fuck am I in Jampot (Dude you have paid 15 lakhs for your MBA- yours sincerely Kaput), hence this question is void ab initio.

My cologne had stopped working, all of a sudden I could feel a stubble on my face ( but I did shave this morning), my sweatshirt seemed sulky, my shoes seemed torn, In the mirror nearby I could see the other side of me smiling.

“अबे बिशु दा के ढाबे चलो BACKHOE, QUIZ के तो पकोड़े लग गए, global consultant पता नहीं कहाँ loafing कर रहा है!” CR was back, he smiled jovially, but it failed to elate me. We walked slowly out of the alley; CR’s chatter box was still on, all of a sudden it struck me, I had left my watch back in the library, CR promptly said “अमा तो ले आते हैं, घडी ही तो है घोडा थोड़ी ना भाग जायेगी जो?”

I smiled for a moment, “she gave me that as a gift let it is. Not needed anymore.”

“बिशु दा, 3 चाय और 1 सुट्टा देना”

The smoke within admonished me, I smiled and said “Perhaps I will take that wrist watch tomorrow morning!!”