My alarm goes off, I hate it, I hate my alarm, I hate it with all my guts. Why can’t I sleep longer? “Parathe taiyyar hain beta”, wow!! Parathe for breakfast? Shah Rukh must have won the Filmfare award last night. Every morning I feel blessed that I live with my mom. I am the living example of the fact that Indian men can’t live without their moms till the age of 35. I remember the time when I bought on the independence hogwash and moved to Bangalore early in my career. The first week was wonderful, Telematics was a wonderful place to work and had the hottest girls in town. Bangalore was a wonderful place, mild weather, nice people and cheap food. The first week passed in a flash, and at the end of it our trainers arranged a welcoming party on Saturday to get to know us better. All of us were served beer, I mean, beer to bachche pite hain naa? Why couldn’t they serve us some whiskey?
“Hi, I’m Richa!” Huh?” Vicky, Vicky Malhotra” I stuttered. “Hmmm Vicky, were your parents thinking of buying a dog while conceiving you?” Whoa, what? “Well, the name’s Vikram, Vikram Malhotra”. “Oh!! a wannabe huh?” Fuck, I’m gonna punch her. “Well, Richa is just so Indian huh?” Nice is obviously not working here. She quietly moved on. “Phew”, “Kutte, tu to tope hai”, Amit, what a relief! “Yaar, pant utaar hi rahi thi ki bachte bachate izzat sambhali”. “You’ve got a sense of humor man!” grinned Amit. “Yeah, his dress sense goes with that” Bitcha was again at it, I didn't know she was still in town.
I hate getting up with a hangover, water, water.. “Fuck! The mineral water is finished", I yell at empty can of bisleri. “Angrez ki aulaad, sarkaari paani pi le, mar nahi jaayega, drink the bloody tap water”, I was dreaming, it couldn’t be Richa’s voice, its 9 in the morning, how could that be, thoughts were streaming into my mind at the speed of light. I sat still for a few minutes, “what you are not thirsty now?” This was my worst nightmare or I’m schizophrenic. I turned back to check what has hit me? There she was, on my bed, seemingly naked; I couldn’t be sure though for I didn’t have the guts to confirm. “D.d... did something happen last night?” shit!!! that was the wimpiest line a guy could come up with. “Nothing you’d regret”, pat came the answer. What, what’s that supposed to mean? I stood there wondering how to decipher the message, I’m sure all military coding is done by women.
“You weren’t so unsure last night”. “Well that must have been the alcohol” I replied. All of a sudden she got up, she wasn’t naked after all, went across the room, picked up her bag and started walking towards me. If she hits me with that bag, I’ll punch her, I thought, but before I could realize it, she leaned over, kissed me on my cheek and said, “Your poetry amazed me last night”. Stunned, I saw my diary lying near the mattress that we use as the couch. I couldn’t have opened up my diary to her, no way, that’s off limits.
Before I could realize it, she was gone, I did not even hear the door closing behind her. I picked up my diary, poor thing, its 6 years old, torn and tattered, I’ve not finished it though and I don’t think I would in the near future. I haven’t written in it for three months, to be exact since the last time I had contemplated suicide…
