तुम्हारे जाने के बाद

तुम्हारे जाने के बाद , कुछ नहीं बदला ..

सूरज अब भी आता है हर रोज़ जलाने को .....
और चाँद हर रात जल के राख हो कर जाता है .....

तुम्हारे जाने के बाद , कुछ नहीं बदला ..
हाँ मगर इतना ज़रूर हुआ है…

की जिन साँसों को तुम्हारी खुशबुओं की शोहबतें लगी थीं ;
उनको अब सिगरेट के धुंए की आदत हो गयी है .....

तुम्हारे जाने के बाद , कुछ नहीं बदला ..

शाम अब भी पूछती है तेरी बाहों का पता।.....
और सुबह तेरे माथे का किनारा मांगती है .....
शाम को मैं  टाल देता हूँ 'कल आना' बोलकर .....
पर सुबह से रात का जलता धुआं छिपता नहीं

तुम्हारे जाने के बाद , कुछ नहीं बदला ..
हाँ मगर इतना ज़रूर हुआ है…

की मेरी सुबहें और शामें मुझ पे शक करने लगी हैं …
कल से शायद ना आएँगी ..  तुम्हारे जाने के बाद

लफ़्ज़ों के कारीगर

लफ़्ज़ों के  चार कारीगर सियाह रात में बैठे....
बुझती हुई अंगीठी में नज़्में  फूँका करते थे

बड़ी ऊँची अलावन  तपती थी.… भभक कर
उठती थी आग सर्द हवाओं में .....

ये काम अब धीमा पड़ गया है …… आजकल
मंदी है नज़्मों  के  व्यापार में ....

एक अमावस है जो आती नहीं
    की रात सियाह हो
    अंगीठी फिर से जले…

कोई नज़्म फिर से रौशन हो…।

अमावस पर कविता

रौशनी मद्धिम है आज फिर शहर में,
हवा दीवारों से चोटें खा के चीखती है अँधेरे में।
शायद चाँद ने वापस धोखा किया है ……  अमावस ही है। ।


कुछ बिका नहीं आज बाज़ारों में,
रोशिनी की ही कीमत लगाई है लंगड़े बनिए ने।
व्यापारी सारे भारी ही लौटे हैं घरों में आज। ।

कुछ चौदह दिनों में ही रोशिनी यूं खर्ची है निगोड़े चाँद ने,
गोरी का आँगन अंधेर लगता है आज।
इतनी बेफिक्री से तो अनाज ना खर्चा हमने भूखे बच्चों पर.....

(अधूरी)

नौ ....

नौ बरसों से जूझ रही है नज़्म,
अकेली, अँधेरी रात में  … चुपचाप
जैसे सगरेट लड़ा करती है तेज़ हवाओं से ॥

दसवें बरस जब निखरेगी तो…
गीत बनेगी गोरी का ....
फिर लाल पहन कर आएगी

और उसके ही पाँव में ये पाजेब सजेगी।

Looking at the Bigger picture

P.S.: For the sake of complexity, big and bigger are used interchangeable in the post. If you do not understand this stop reading Right now. You are missing the big picture here....

The domain of consultancy and analytics can be a torment, especially for the semantically unaligned. The evolution of language has found new paradigms and undesirable effect on individuals who for example ‘Have to touch-base’ with someone they don’t want to ‘touch’ in the first place. And this is just ‘scratching the back’ I must tell you. Or ‘the tip of the iceberg’ on a cold windy night when all you want is to cuddle in a blanket and listen to Himesh sing ‘Tera Tera suroor’ amidst heavy thump and infinite jazz. Not the general ‘Jazz by the way/bay’ but the jazz which manifests itself in an all time favorite wedding song.. ‘Jheemi Jheemi Jheemi.. aaja..aaja…aaja.’… You get my point??

Of course you don’t. Because you are not looking at the bigger picture. Which brings me to the daddy of all corporate terminologies: ‘Looking at the bigger picture’

This is how a typical conversation with your superiors in the corporate world would go:

Mathematical Geek/Genius

MG: Boss. The R sq of the equation which models the rate at which ice cream melts in a room and Katrina Kaif’s presence in the same room along with a poster of Tushaar Kapoor in the other room is ~70%

Boss: That is not enough. Did you also look at the possibility of an added variability of ‘Malaika Arora’s Z-balm’??

MG:  But Boss, would not the Variable inflation factor be more than 4? They both ARE highly correlated..

Boss: Of course it will…

MG(cutting short): ..which beats the point of using Malaika in the equation then Sir… Katrina alone suffices for both.

Boss: See.. there you are missing the whole point. You are not looking at the bigger picture.

MG: I beg your pardon Sir.. but I am. I am probably looking at the biggest picture possible.. I have a 10X10 poster of Katrina doing a ‘Chikni Chameli’ in my apartment…

Boss: So you will not account for the variability and add Malaika in the equation…

MG: Mathematically?? No sir…

Boss: But you do realize that your client is Arbaaz Khan.. What will he use Katrina for anyway?? You see…  you have to think about all these parameters before coming to me with such presumptuous solutions. You need to parameterize the entire variable space and identify existing patterns which help Arbaaz run his ice cream factory next to Salman’s school of Chastisement and Virtue…

MG: No wonder Arbaaz is moving to producing of ice creams now….

So how exactly do you look at the bigger picture? Fear not my fellow corporates. After mining through loads and loads of data.. about the perimeter of Sonakshi’s forehead that forced me to use Big data paradigms, I have devised a 3 point plan which harnesses existing data patterns to enable your mathematical mind to harvest business acumen and not fail to spot, identify and even understand ‘THE BIG PICTURE’.

1    Never look at the Big picture directly: You can’t look at the big picture directly. No Sir!! That is not acceptable. The route to the big picture lies in magazines that teach you about the ‘5 most important foods that cut fat’, ‘7 things to ensure you are the most macho in a band of jazz players’ or ‘ 5 things you should never do while eating breakfast on the moon with a dolphin’s infant child, playing football in low gravity eco-space with a chimpanzee at the same time’.

Wait for a leeway into the knowledge space provided by hard working big picture enthusiasts. Read. Rehearse and then look away… you will gain visibility.

2       Understand the consumer: Now that you are done with your fancy analysis with shiny pies and cool bars, without getting fat or hungover…. You are on to the tricky part. What you need to understand that the output of any mathematical equation in the corporate world is composed on two components: the mathematical equation and the ‘big picture deviation’ (also called as error rate by sports enthusiasts). Getting the first part of the equation is easy. To get the remaining of the component you need to understand who your consumer is.

You need to gauge the frequency of your consumer’s bowels, find his favorite brand of constipation pills, his most preferred strip club and 5 strands of hair from his unborn child. Seems difficult? Wait till you get to the last part.

3    If a big picture does not exist, paint one: This involves breaking into your customer’s office, picking a brush and painting huge potraits from the stories ‘P.S.: I love you’ with the skill of a five year old and the adventure of Salman Khan’s virtue… Untainted..that is… Once you are done, they will be printing about this in the magazines all over.. then you move to Step 1.

P.S.: If you are unable to comprehend the intent of the article and got lost at R sq… you definitely did not get the big picture. Wait for my post on ‘How to look at the literature about ‘Looking at the Big picture’ ’. I am co-writing it with Chetan Bhagat. He is paying for the ink I spend. Also involved is a corporate firm predicting number of words I would write without making any sense… the current count is 884. 

Their Story - At the bar and after

"Can i just see you once tonight?" she inquired.

"Yes you can." he said. "You can see me tonight.
I will come alone in the glassy night.
Will usher a storm of broken twigs
and bring with it the strength of light.
You will be dazzled like sparrows are when they look straight into the sun ...alright
but you will see me Yes... You will see me tonight"

“You seem somberly poetic. What’s the matter ?” she retorted with an uneven baritone.

“Prose my dear, is such waste of words. Deemed to fail where sounds coerce,

Despite they stem from roots all same… words are words; (there’s) music in verse”

“So what makes the sky so blue and the blade’s green does color impart?

What evil does your head conjure? And what motions will your soul start?

..See I can play too…!!”. The heartless wench stood glorious. The sun shining in her pride.

“You complete me now.. I wish I could say..

Yet cautious is the path to love.. and beset with misgivings unknown to fools,

Though carries close two broken hearts;

Yet many a time it leads away”

“Ok! I know you like words. But this is really disturbing. So, let me be shameless and complete your verse.

You might like words and love you would

A grimly room with whiskey’s cup..

But I do swear to all my gods..

You sleep alone if you don’t ‘Shut the fuck up!!”

And he did.

***********

“The world, you see, is not trying to be saved. It wants to burn. Burn with rage and a mutiny so horrid with violence that all the water from the glaciers up north or all the tears from the widows of men won’t heal it. And believe you me, that day is not far.” She said as she downed the fourth shot of vodka.

He was taking it slow tonight.

“You seem overly poetic in prose tonight.”

“Well what would make you say so?”

“The fact that you took our moot point of global warming on our 43^rd date quite far. A possibility of a fire riot is kind of far fetched.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is.”

“Hmmm… so I guess the vodka is working. I feel free.” She sounded exalted.

“No.. honey.. what you feel is precisely a chemical condition where your heart betrays your mind… your brain does not like it one bit and triggers a biological reaction making your muscles weak there by restraining the heart’s wishes.. spiraling you in a maze of inner conflict and disillusioned self loathing which stems from your hatred for humanity in the first place… an argument which you would dismiss without considering one bit….” he stopped for a sip of his own drink.

She considered a bit. She dismissed. Then began:

“Funny thing.. coming from an alcoholic himself…. And back in our days people just called it ‘sloshed’…. And you being pedantic about your girlfriend drinking at an open bar about an event which supports kids from child abuse by alcoholic parents is a testimony to how full of shit you are…”

“You took it too far. The evening is over. I love you too much to pay heed to your rationality” he got up from the table in a hurry.

“Oh! Now you speak sense!!… What happens when the vacation is over? With me sulking over  you and you away rattling your time in a cold country, oceans apart… which by the way drinks booze like kids drink milk”

“Statistically speaking … not all kids love milk.. actually well below 45% kids in the united king…..”

“Oh! You can shove your stats and stats-fucking-company up your torrid tight ass”

He did. He loved her way too much to be rational with her. Rationality kills fantasy. Fiction dare not reside where reason lays its ass.

“Let me walk you home. You are drunk”

“You bet your ass I am. And you will be a gentleman and not take advantage of me”

“Do I bet my ‘torrid-tight-ass’ ?’ he smiled with a wink. She kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you” she said.

“I know you do.” He put his arm around her shoulder and carried her purse.

“Might I say that the purse looks astounding on you” her words lacked the cynicism of an avid drinker.

“No madam.. You look astounding on me.. the purse is just a collateral ornament”

She walked erratically. Joining imaginary dots on the road. He followed like a dog smitten with a bone.

She was drunk for the first time. He was not. It was a first too.

“So …wh…at happens…. when you go…………. away?” she asked in broken verse.

“We deal with it”

“How?”

“Like lovers do. Being honest and truthful” he spoke with an air of disillusionment.

“Fuck you” she swore at length.

“I know”

“That is not something to know. That is something to work on”

“I am on it. Your apartment is here”

“Come on in. Nehal would love to meet you.” She lingered.

“Really? It is 2 am. She would be fast asleep”

“You seem to know her sleep times quite well.. mister.. should I be suspicious?” she slapped him on the cheek and fell over in the exercise.

“Not after you know that statistically speaking, more than 80% of the human population sleeps by 2 am. It is called as routine” he held her hand and pulled her from the floor.

“Alright! She might be asleep. But come in for my sake… also.. did I not ask you to shove things up your torrid-tight-ass”

“What sake? You are drunk. You should sleep. Like the remaining 20% who are about to go to sleep in the next 30 mins.”

“That should be enough…” she whistled through the cold air.

A drunk eye winked. A hug was bought in compensation for a slap. A kiss was procured by promises made old by enthused clocks. An arm was held at an arm’s length. Words were spoken in soft hush of the night only to be engulfed by the dark. Ears failed. The eye would not see.

Motion ceased for an hour. Not all love stories deserved this.

“My flight leaves in 3 hours. I really need to go..” he talked to her hair.

No response came. The words reached her ears but did not register in her brain. Brain and heart had not made out since the 7^th shot.

Someone somewhere played a song. He laughed at the words…

John Denver adjusted his throat before he began singing from an old stereo…

’All my bags are packed.. I am ready to go..

……..’

She woke up after 5 mins. Alone.

“Don’t..” she said, incapacitated by the slumber. Half asleep, half mourning the last 15 mins lost in oblivion. She slept on the floor that night.

He did not sleep at all….

(..to be continued)

Train of thoughts - (Night at the bar)

Sat by the fire. His face red. Not the heat. Long sprint maybe. Ordered a glass of scotch. Momentous celebration. Peace was over. War needs celebration. Too many critics anyway. Evil smirk. Strong taste. Probably 18 years. Maybe more. Lady behind the bar table looks voluptuous. Nice breasts must say. Bet good money on it.

No money to buy dinner. Only 7 coins. Can squeeze in another scotch. Maybe a cheap one. Or a cheaper one and a pint. Pint tastes shitty after scotch. Maybe a cheaper scotch. Whiskey maybe. And a lime. Yes. Fresh juice too.

Gazed at the bar for long. Lights seemed dimmer than when he came in. Window seemed brighter. Must be day. How long has he been drinking? Maybe long. The voluptuous bar tender is gone. Wanted to do unspeakable things to her. Sshh!

Let’s sleep some. Too much memory mars the intellect. Must start afresh. General needs strong arms. Must relax tonight. Won’t touch myself tonight. Save strength. Hic!

Must be daybreak now. Mrs. Clarke comes in with fresh milk. Must get some for family. Let the wife rot. She has her own cow. Kids have been starving for long now. But not long anymore. War is upon us. We will fight for our general. He will get us food and drinks. Maybe a whiskey with lime too. Long live the general. He has good heart. All good things must be respected. Like the voluptuous lady from the previous night.

‘Time to clean the bar! Old man’. Voluptuous lady is back. Pinch. Not dreaming, nay. Must touch her once. Looks dirty. Some one doing dirty things to her in the night. Must be a whore. Should not touch. Auspicious day. Let me piss in the back. No one comes around. Otherwise auspicious day. Must get milk too.

--intermediate end for feedback---

Their Story - Trip to Mumbra (Build up ... )

"No baby... nothing will change.. I promise.. well except the calling rates... and the time zones.. wait I guess a lot will change" Prashant stammered through the last part of the sentencce as he gave Karuna the news over the phone. He was slated to leave for a different country in 2 days but that is a different story altogether which we will get to some other time...
****

"Tell me a story...a funny one" demanded Karuna from under the sheet. Prashant sat on the sofa flipping through old books. He looked through his glasses and eyed her request in faked attention.

"Well I am out of jokes... why don't you tell me a scary story rather..??" Prahsant got up to get a glass of water..

"Ok.. I think I am pregnant..."

"What the f**.. Are you kidding me? What ? How? When? We have not even had...." Prahant mumbled through the questions.

"Well.. that's the scary part... now isn't it?" KAruna winked from under the sheet...

Prashant woke up with a start. He was sleeping on the floor. He made a phone call to Mumbra. Karuna answered in a sleepy tone... "Someone better be dead.. I am telling you..."
"Well my dreams almost were.. How are you? " Prashant gulped some water as he closed the door to the balcony and came out in the open.
"I am good... I think i am..pr.." The line went dead..and Prashant too...
"Mother of god.. I hate fuckinng prepay connection.." Prashant cursed looking at a telecom tower out there in the far.
He waited a while before the phone rang. He fumbled and answered the call.

"Hey.. the line went dead.. you were saying something.. Something about you being..something?? What were you saying?" He shot the questions and prayed to all his gods.

"Ah! I don't remember... Must have been the fact that i am prominently tired today.."
"Excellent!! A very poor choice of adverb... though" he wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead as he slapped a mosquito dead on his heels cursing silently.
"What? It's 3 in the morning. I don't need a grammar lesson from you..."
"No! I absolutely understand.. You are prominently tired and i must say I am promisingly relieved.." He muttered in a taunting tone. Thereafter the happy and relieved couple chatted sometime about life in general and how the significant half was significantly incomplete without the other half. The conversation concluded to a complete halt almost 27 minutes later and Prashant decided to go back to sleep. It was a shame the night was wasted three quarters already. The night was getting only cooler as he walked into the hall to get some more water. He ran into Shujit who was munching on the overnight food on the bean bag.

"What the hell are you doing at this time of the night?" He asked Prashant and offered him a chapati wrapped over 'aloo capsicum dry'.
"I have a girlfriend. I am entitled to sleepless nights. What are you doing stockinng up on food at this time of the night?"
"You know dude..!! It is that time of the year again...when i get all disciplined about my eating." Shujit gobbled the final chunk in his hungry mouth which eventually made way to his empty stomach.
"Very well..!! I honor your restraint.. Enjoy your dinner cum lunch. I will go get some sleep."

Prashant walked into the room where Vishal was spread with his hands and legs pointing to the vertices of a rectangle which was his bed. Vishal was Prashant's roommate. No, they were not gay. No further questions. Period ... (Fuck...Damn)  - Only the smarties got the last one..
The lights were switched off in D118 for the day.

****

I love the city Mumbra. Well.. Prashant loves it. The last time he was int he city with Karuna they went around the same places they had been the last time around. It was fun. He was poor. She was a student. They got through that. Money was only an enabler. The ultimate challenge was being able to make the journey. There were great Samaritans who lent money. Prashant was trying to write something for quite sometime. It was a letter. Apparently it was supposed to be a love letter but all he could write in the last 5 hours was this:

'....And the light streaked across the sky when the time came....the dogs stopped barking for they felt the ever hurting charisma of fear and looked silently 
in the sky as a thunderous bolt struck the shiny moon and it was shattered to pieces followed by a waltz of ever soothing violin... thus began the century of 
Irony and has been dark in the nights since then... the sun rises in solid fear and rushes across the horizon quickly, only to be lost in a never ending abyss 
of darkness... the same villain who engulfed the last pieces of the moon'

He could explain. The metaphors in the message sheathed the vulgarity of the message. He wasn't vulgar. His thoughts were. Ahh!! The irony.. he laughed as he wiped a tear.

The bus was taking longer than usual today. It was the traffic outside Sion. It was scorching when he got down at the Andheri(W) bus depot. She lived in the east. Near a fire brigade. Of course.

This was the first time he was in Mumbra with more money than he had combined in all his trips. The budget to Mumbra trips had always been 2000 rupees of which 104 were spent on his ticket to Mumbra and 600 were allocated for the Mumbra autorickshaw pension fund. Well of course money lost its value and the equivalent comparison can not now be drawn but this time he spent 1200 on the ticket alone. He had called her up twice as he stood under a tree with a bag which for the first time of all his trips to Mumbra was not the charismatic Green that belonged to Rishabh. To know more about Rishabh read : Trip to Thol She came out of the building in a while. Her pony tail swaying as she walked. 'I love you woman...' he said to himself for she was far away. He stood there motionless. She did all the moving.

"Well someone's been smoking..." her first remark was always the sharpest.
"Actually the dude who stood next to me near the pan shop smoked in my face.."
"Very well.. I guess you shook his hand too.." She smelled his hand and took his bag.
"I missed you.." he tried to break the tension
"hmm..!! I don't live in cigarettes by the way.. So stop searching me there..." She started walking towards the building and he followed like the eye follows Katrina's moves.
***

They talked at length. He lay on the bed and she lay across with the back of her head on his chest. He held her hand and played with her skin. He never left the clasp of her skin when she was around. It drove him crazy.

They did not speak for it was redundant. She could hear the heart beat. He could feel the goosebumps on her hand. A clock ticked in the background. A bus honked outside the window as it passed by. The crowd howled in the traffic. Someone was trying to sell lemons on the road. He could hear it all. She could feel it all. All this did not bother. Mumbra was complete with him so close.

She played with his hand and made shapes using his fingers as wings and her palm as the torso. It started to rain. They did not move. It was evening when the rain stopped. He had fallen asleep. His fingers still moved on her skin. I told you right... They never left contact.

She did not lay watching him as he slept. She did not sit and appreciate how peaceful it seemed. She did not stay awake savoring the moment. She just curled up and joined him in his peace. This was all that was missing. This was all that was needed. This was peaceful.

....continues in the next part...Spoiler alert : Prashant and Karuna take a trip to marine drive and don't kiss...:)

Revisiting DAIICT – Trip to Thol (Final Episode)

Some adult content where Rishabh expains pregnancy. Read at your own risk.

The morning and the ride back

What do you do after reaching a bird sanctuary before the sun wakes the birds? Well ideally you wait and chit chat. Our good friends did the same. However, the subject was not some random chick or college professor or course…… it was Mahabharata.. I know. Don’t ask.


They sat at the platform form where the skyline was visible as it turned from dark to faint grey to orange to mild red….. They saw it all. It is not that they hadn’t seen sunrises. They all had. In fact they had been awake so many times together that the charisma of the sun rising beyond the trees in DAIICT had lost its charm. But not today. No…. Today they stood.. I mean sat in full awe as it rose and they talked with the minimum knowledge of the same. Gupta started with the genealogy of the KAuravas and Pandavas. We all know that Kauravas were bad goons who did wrong to the Pandavas. Gupta decided to dig deeper. Frankly, most of us know until Dhritrashtra….. Few know of the family tree beyond him. Gupta boasted of the same as if it were his own family tree.

Prashant added what he knew. In a while the subject shifted to something else. Pregnancy. Yes trust me. In the wee hours of the night Rishabh explained them the intricacies of how to get/avoid pregnancy. Following are the excerpts:

“Dekho. The cycle starts let us say today. So if you have sex today you are fine. But seven days from now it is risky business. Maa ki… bachha ho sakta hai. “ Gupta listened with utmost attention. For some reason he was counting something.

Gupta: “Abe ye batao…for sure pregnant ho sakti hai ladki us din?”

Rishabh was like a teacher to them. He talked glibly about the biology of female anatomy and explained it completely. It involved complex discussion on the movement of semen and fertilization of the egg. The details however can be disturbing for some readers. So we will end with the final line…. ”…..aur kuch jaanana hai?”

All: “Nahi be…. Abhi ke liya itna hi kaafi hai….”

Pratik knew stuff too but was inclined on birdwatching.

“Maa ki….. ye chidiya kab uthengi… Bh****d machhar kitne hain… yahaan…”. Gupta again broke into his uncontrollable laughs. Rishabh twisted his arm and asked for a smoke. Gupta took the pack out and handed it over. The first smoke of the day and sun and friends… what else does one want?

****

The birds came in small groups and as the light dispersed the vast stretch of land shedding away the humid cold Gupta jumped off the platform and stretched. Words cannot capture the stretch because it was a characteristic stretch and wriggle. I however will give it a try in steps:

Step 1: Stand erect and spread your hands as if you are pushing the sky out of earth’s atmosphere

Step 2: Get on your toes and yawn

Step 3: Pull you hair and descend on the floor by a quiet but audible “Ahh!! Fuck Bhen*** …..”

Step 4: Exhale

I am pretty sure I am not able to capture the essence but it sure gives you a high level understanding of how Gupta does it. So where were we? Ahh!! Sunlight. Pratik came down and decided that the place was apt for a photograph. He at a precise 22.5 degrees from the angle of the camera such that the sunlight lit his pretty face and highlighted the features to… (I better stop lest my girlfriend has second thoughts… ;)) Gupta roamed around pulling grass from the land and hurling it high in the sky. I have no clue what he was trying to achieve… Rishabh was finding the perfect spot to be photographed. Prashant photographed the bastards.

Rishabh soon found the perfect place: “Yaar..!! Yahaan se kheench. Click when a fresh batch of birds flow from the horizon and are perfectly in the scape of me and the sky… Ensure that the light is on my face… Click from near the ground…The timing needs to be perfect…” on and on he went…. Prashant listened. Timing ki maa ka bh****…. Photographer samajh rakha hai kya madar****

Pratik: “Hahahaha”… Gupta: “AHHA !!! FUCK BHE*****”…

*****

The birds had been watched. The moist cold had been enjoyed. It was getting warm. Something was amiss. Yes…. Food. Rishabh, let me tell you is a meticulous man. He sets everything perfectly. He wakes up at precisely 6:47 am and takes a dump at around 7:00 am. Rumor has that he never attends a lecture without having breakfast. So the plan was laid. They would be eating at the roadside vendors outside IIM-A. The ride began soon. They bid goodbye to the sanctuary and left. Meanwhile on the way, one of the bikes ran low on fuel. Gupta was riding it. From where the bike stopped, he could see the petrol pump but it was afar. What to do? Gupta thought for a while and lit a cigarette. Prashant looked a little worried. Gupta assured him and took out his phone. Made a call… “Haan be!! Kahaan ho? Hamari gaadi ka petrol khatam ho gaya hai….. Wapas aao”. The other bike rode back and joined them.

Gupta welcomed Rishabh with “Lo sutta pio.” Rishabh denied saying “Nahi be..!! Bahut garmi hai abhi. Kya karna hai?” Prashant and Pratik went to the cigarette kiosk close by and got a bottle of 7 up.

Pratik : “Lo pio madar****on”

Gupta: “Sahi be…!! Diek pepsi ka can nahi tha kya?”

Prashant:”Gupta main gaa** maar lunga”

Gupta:”Tension mat lo be”

Rishabh:”Jaldi khatm karo … hum aage us petrol pump se petrol le aate hain iss bottle mein”

All:”Hmm”

The bike was refueled and the ride began again. This time the stop was scheduled at IIM-A and that is where the heroes stopped. The roads were awesome I remember. They ate like crazy. Poha, omlette, tea… cigarettes. That is what a young body yearns for. They paid the guy and rode back to college. The rest of the journey was uneventful except for the brief minute where they were checking licenses at the circle and our hero Prashant did not have one buy was driving the bike. Gupta subtly asked him to take a right and avoid the cop. It was awesome.

The came back to college by 10 am. Gupta got down from the bike and wriggled in 4 steps as told before. Rishabh decided that his daily bowel movements were already delayed by 3 hours and he could not hold them any longer. Pratik said it was time for his sleep and went to sleep. Just when all were dispersing…..

Prashant asked Gupta… “Kya karna hai?”
Gupta: “Aaao…galle chalte hain”


The end

Their Story : Filler

Trust me readers... there is a lot more to me than a lazy bastard.... it is called as meticulous ass warmer...
Some of you have been waiting for this... so here goes...

Content


The rains had come and gone. The soil still held the scent of the moist air. The air still had the color of the dark clouds. The clouds had lost their color. They were white in a cumulus cluster hiding the sun. The sun had lost his will to shine and hid behind the clouds to cover his laziness. The clouds had lost their color from the dark tint they had a couple of days ago when the air was wet and the soil dry anticipating a wild precipitation of heat into sudden bursts of drizzling dreams. But that was two days ago! A lot was well only two days ago.

*****

Shujit packed his bag as he was preparing to leave for work. Prashant walked to the door as Shujit remarked about ‘what an absolute bitch’ the soil outside was.

“Damn it man! My shoes are dirty again! ” It was outstanding to see him complain about muddy issues. Prashant closed the door and wished his customary goodbye with the mandatory assurance, “Bhai main tiffin le aaunga!”

“Aur sewai bhi!” Shujit added to the already offered luxury.

As he closed the door, Prashant uttered in subdued exaggeration, “Bastard!”

Now, the readers would be wondering (along with Shujit) as to why the sudden allusion to Shujit! We did not even know him before. Is he making a guest appearance or is he here to stay?

Readers do not worry! He is not here to screw things up. He is playing his part just like Karuna is. Ahh!! Karuna! Now we had almost forgotten about her. Hadn’t we? Let me tell you something. Karuna is an author’s muse. Especially for this author, she is the ideal painting. We love to talk about paintings because we like to talk about abstract things. However, this is not the reason we like to talk about Karuna….. Her, we definitely like and most definitely love for reasons we can’t share on this blog. We normally harness the idea that most people are stupid. But Karuna is not stupid. She has a master’s degree in pharmaceutical management. She can tell you what medicines to take when you are sick and also manage your pill popping exercises. But she will not do this for you. She would grace only us with this favor because she is in love with us- the author and Prashant.

You should have seen her eyes the day she came to meet us in Bangaur. She was here for some time and we spent some time with her in the coffee shops and shopping malls. Not once did she lose sight of us and grew tense when we coughed and almost cried when we almost threw up after eating a crappy burger at ‘Pubway’ – avoid it readers. We cried with her because we did not like to see her cry and we like all people, cry when we are upset. Yes we were upset. We did not eat for 2 straight days. We only ate in the nights when she was fast asleep because she was sad and we were upset, but we were also hungry and hungry people do crazy things like eat sofas while sitting on it and trying to imagine black color in water taking it for cola. Yes, my readers you see… we did all these things because we were crazy in love. She did all this because she was crazily in love with us. All three of us were so happy the day she came to us. She thinks we love Shujit and Pratik. Poor kid… how she does not see that we think of her eyes and that tiny little freckle on her forehead when it is windy, of the moist cheek when it is gloomy, of her ability to not weep when a jackass of a doctor told her to get lost and how impotent we felt that day …. Both of us…. We wept that night for three straight hours on our bed and tried to console us but to no effect. Were gloomy the next day but we knew this will pass because we believed in GOD. I am lying. She believed in GOD and a tenet that good things happen to people who believe…. If only I could….

I know some readers are wondering what happened to Shujit…..!!