1st Feb 2012
Very weird day.
To start with again I was late n felt guilty that handsome
husband of Pooja had to take an inside turn for me bcoz I cud not reach my pick
up point on time, but that’s ok I have bigger tensions in life than to think
about how to grab attention of Pooja’s husband early morning at 8, when all
3 of us are enjoying this 2 min ride for different reason, before getting on
the battleground to fight for our heavy day in office.
I have regular embarrassments in office, theres nothing new
in it. It comes in various forms…physical (considering my figure),
intellectual, technical (thanx to BB, tabs n wats app on mobile phones),
professional since it’s a workplace. Not to forget each type has to be a public
embarassement since I work in a corporate. And there is my regular audience, my
colleagues, frnds and their frnds adding each passing day so that my frnds
don’t have to take the pains to repeat the jokes cracked on me- they just have
to introduce them to me (even my workstation would do for that matter). Next
time onwards they can enjoy it firsthand.
But today was a weird day. My receptionist who happens to be
in awe of me calls me up when I was in
middle of something important. Let me take time to express here what does
‘middle of something important’ means in corporate office. If you are planning
your leave not looking at the calendar or your deadlines but studying your
weekly canteen menu, if you are checking out new joinees list having
photographs, finding out the most complicated excel sheet to keep open on ur PC
for the whole day when u r busy in some other important thing, when u r trying
to find the direct or inverse proportion of ur neighbour’s salary and job
profile- then my dear friends you can proudly say ‘I am in middle of something
important’.
So coming back to the point when I was ‘in middle of
something important’ my receptionist called and said something which made me recheck
my passport – my country of origin & my date of birth to confirm myself
about my age.
She asked me to open YOU page on Mumbai Mirror and suggested
me to read what was written in bold letters “Secrets of having that perfect
Kiss” and a half size photo of a cute guy n very cute girl smooching. And below
were written 10 so-called rather so –assumed secrets of a perfect kiss. I
coolly ignored the page asking my receptionist what to read on that page but I
guess this much humiliation was not enough for God (thru receptionist). She
said ‘read it mam, its for your own good. You need it.’ I still tried to
maintain my mental balance, don’t knw how much I succeeded but I told her that
all this is crap and this just corrupts our mind and we should not believe it.
It sounded like my Mom telling me the same things about the zee horror show
when I was a kid. If only my mom knew that I still remember her words of
wisdom, only the situation is different here, she would be so proud of me. But
my receptionist would not give up and answers back ‘mam, that’s why your life
is so dry and boring. Read it, its actually true and very helpful. It will
spice up your life’.
Thanks to corporate
life there is constant flow of emails in the inbox and you have a perennial
excuse of ‘I need to reply to a mail urgently, I’ll get back to you asap’. I
did the same with my receptionist and kept down the phone.
But just like zee horror show music- aaaa….aaa…aaah ahah
aaaaah aaaah…keeps haunting for days her words kept haunting my mind. To start
with why she thinks my life is dry and boring. Just because I hear her desperate
dream stories of having a bf doesn’t mean that my life is also the same or does
not have any other mode of entertainment and even if it is the case, atleast
she should not have problems with it- I am her only loyal audience.
Next in line of thoughts– is it that obvious that I need to
read such articles? What makes her think that I never kissed in life or I am a
bad kisser. Is she representing a secret group of boys whom I dated which I am
not aware of? What makes her think that such articles would help me, do I look
that desperate? Does she think I am a teenager and supposed to tear of that
article, take it to the washroom and giggle with her over it?? Does she think
at all???
Last one being closest to reality, I believed that and
thought about this page. This You
page claims to introduce you to your innerself, desires, laws of nature but
actually it just tests your patience for tolerating such non sense and
introduces to other pervert people who are in quest for their innerself (new
limits of pervertness)
With all such thoughts hovering over my mind, whole day I
tried hard not to think about HIM. I kept myself busy with all the possible
important work I could do right from cleaning my desktop screen to my laptop
bag, from getting the Xerox of a document which belonged to another department
to going to washroom every hr (without
the newspaper cutting).
Finally it was hour of freedom,6.30- official sign out time.
I retired myself to the window seat of our AC coach on my way back home. Since
I had nothing to do so-called productive work which I do in office, I was left
with only the traffic view outside, honking horns and radio music to my rescue.
But before I could change the channel the damage was already done. I heard it….Dil ko tumse pyaar hua, pehli baar hua
,tumse pyar hua….Main bhi aashiq yaar hua, pehli baar hua, tumse pyaar hua…..
I could not change the channel, my fingers refused to move.
I could not hear the horns, could not see the traffic outside. Was not sure if
the bus was even moving. The only thing I could see was memories of that day……
Flashback
I was tired and sleepy after a
3hr delayed flight from Delhi to Mumbai. It was my new job and first time I was
out on a business tour- a tour where your only business is to rip off your
company in all the possible way right from getting sponsored your food, roaming
charges, rickshaw bills to the shampoo you steal from the hotel while checking
out even though its free. My parents
were very proud that finally they can have some peaceful time at home when
someone else is bearing the cost and facing the embarrassment of stolen
shampoo. But still with all the excitement they came to pick me up at the
airport. I just don’t understand the fetish of Indian parents coming to pick
their kids at the airport even if the kid is returning from Goa. They will hug
you for 1 minute and as if the hug had some magical powers, your parents
undergo into a split personality. You are crticised for what you are wearing,
for the flight you choose, your hotel name, room tariff even though its company
sponsored, what you ate in flight, ate or not, why you look so tired, was there
anything wrong in the trip, download of family gossip when you were away…all at
the same time and same place…airport!! And you keep wondering where did all the
love go after that hug.
Since I’ve already had the
experience of all this, I was well prepared for it. I did not bother on combing
my hair or checking on the spread kajal as I was to go back home only that too
with my parents who would anyways comment on my looks. Plus it would give a
look that I m very tired as if I only navigated the aircraft and would be saved
from the bombardment of queries. With my this stupid solid plan in my mind and
one stroller in my hand I walked out from the exit door of the airport looking
for my parents.
Before I could spot them, amidst
of all the eager faces, bored taxi drivers, uniformed sophisticated hotel pick
up drivers, I saw the face which skipped my heartbeat for a second and I
ignored him. Was not sure if he was actually here. But I looked back at him, if
he is not here still I should not miss that handsome face looking at me. To my
surprise rather shock, it was him, Gaurav was here!! Wearing crisp white shirt,
dark denims and ofcourse his favourite navy blue provogue belt. Traces of thick
silky black hair falling on his smooth forehead. Fair complexion, high
cheekbones and that perfect cupid bow shaped dark pink lips. My heart just had
a bungee jump till the stomach and came back to its position when those dark
lips gave me crooked smile. Has he had some facial for me or I just forgot how
handsome he looked. And why is he wearing goggles at 9 in the night? Why I did
not comb my hair, did not clean up the spread kajal, where is my
perfume....even though he is far away, I want perfume. Thank God my brain was
having so many questions in my mind and was slow enough to generate neural impulses
to my hand which was about to wave at Gaurav. Before my brain could give signal
to my hand, Gaurav did and indicated me to look at my right side. And there I
saw a hug and numerous questions were waiting for me. Universal confusion of
choosing one among parents and love.
I ran towards them, hugged them,
answered their questions, reacted to Mom’s gossip about a distant cousin
getting engaged, dad’s cribbing of getting the car from parking lot, mom’s
counter cribbing on why to park the car so far, etc etc… I turned back to see
what is he upto, but he already vanished. I sat in the car thinking was he for
real or just that I missed him so much that I actually imagined him there. Its
not a film going on and if he was for real then how can he just vanish without
even saying a ‘hi’ to me. If he was there atleast he should have called or a
normal ‘hello’ even with family like what Ajay devgan did in Yuva would not
have harmed. Why doesn’t he watch hindi movies. I was upset with him and with
myself, if it was my imagination. Whatever it is, I did not like it.
I thought of SMS-ing him while I was on my way
back home but then I had to check about his existence on the airport few
minutes back so I kept myself occupied with questions and gossip dose coming
from my parents and refused to text him. As soon I reached home and crashed
down on my sofa my cell phone vibrated. I knew it was a msg and who was the
sender.
It read : I
am waiting.
I replied : Wait is over, I am back in town.
1 new message received : You need to be back in my arms, irrespective
of town. I am waiting outside your building.
Again there was a bungee jump by
my heart. I informed my parents that I forgot my official cell phone in car and
will be back in 10 min. I still couldn’t believe that he followed 30kms all the
way from airport to my building. Even if he was not waiting down there, I can
utilize the 10 min time for calling him and scolding him for such jokes. I wore
my slippers and rushed down.
A sky blue wagonR was waiting
down stairs a little away from my gate. I walked down towards the car, peeped
through the window to check if it was his car. The fair complexion could not be
missed even through the dark sun film of window during night time. I opened the
door and sat next to him. His crisp white shirt and provogue belt confirmed
that it was him on the airport and also that he was there for me. He was gazing
at me endlessly. This time I could see straight into his twinkling eyes, could
smell his perfume, can touch him, wanted to ask him why is he here. Confused
what to do first, I just lowered the AC of his car and asked him ‘why were you wearing goggles at the airport?’
He answered with a child like
innocence: Bcoz I didn’t want to miss a single chance of impressing you when u
step down in the city. I wanted to be the first one you can see once you come
back, I wanted to grab your attention anyhow. I was confused whether I look
good with shades or without it so I took a chance of with shades as it was
airport, its normal there. Now you can see me without shades here.
By now I was done playing with AC
and switched to music system. I was just flipping through the channels avoiding
him to the max. I stopped at a frequency where a half sleepy man was trying to
be seducing and solving love problem of nocturnal human beings with the help of
love songs. I snapped back, Gaurav Arora,
don’t act smart with me, I noticed you at the airport. There was no need for
you to come all the way to Thane. Why have you come here? Still
concentrating at the dashboard.
Actually I came to check the
effect of delhi water, air and boys on you. All 3 are quite harmful for you. I
wanted to show you my new shades and also there was no date waiting for me
tonight so I thought I’ll just check out the crowd at airport and I found you
there.
I just changed the channel in anger and the song played
Aarzoo hai mere sapnon ki
Baitha rahoon teri
baahon mein
Sirf tu mujhe chaahe ab
Itna asar ho meri aahon
mein
Tu keh de haske to tod
doon main rasmon ko
Marke bhi na bhooloon
main teri kasmon ko
Main to aaya hoon yahan
pe bas tere liye
As I was about to change, he held my hand I turned to him and
before I could reply back to his nasty comments, before I could change the
frequency, his cupid bow shaped lips had found its target. He held my face in
both hands and kept on kissing me as if asking for compensation for every
minute of the time I was in Delhi. His hands caressed my neck and thumbs on my
cheek, now radiating heat due to my misadventures with AC and lack of
experience in kissing, since it was my first one. For a second he stopped,
blowed my hair falling on my face behind my ear and continued kissing my cheeks
and lips. It was not the air he blowed but the love bestowed upon me. I wanted
to love him back but was still scared to kiss on the lips. I kissed him on his
smooth clean shaved cheeks holding a hand over his broad shoulders and neck. I
could sense he was still very happy and his crooked smile turned into a full
moon smile. His smile was killing and it did kill the time. I saw the time,
gave a good bye peck on his cheek once again and before it could start all over
again, I unlocked the door.
He said good bye but his eyes did
not. I couldn’t feel anything till the time I reached the lift. Only thing that
was going in my mind was the song….Dil ko tumse pyaar hua…the only last thing
that registered in my mind.
I did not realize when the song
ended and there were traffic updates. My bus almost reached my stop and thanks
to my bus-mate pooja I got down at the right time. She was carrying the same
Mumbai Mirror which I was asked to read. I thought If only Gaurav would come
back and tell my receptionist that I can now write such articles, let alone
making notes of it. I smiled, as I didn’t know if he was to come back but I
knew such articles surely gonna come everyday and I cant run away. Neither from
these articles nor from my receptionist. J