02-01-2019, 11:49 AM
I was going through some inconsequential fliers that the new chick from HR had delivered, served with a smile with that smile that understated ‘Anything more I can do for you’ and suitably paused for an extended second which allows a male to make a supposedly casual inspection from her topknot to the heels. I didn’t fail her and checked out with a conceivably bored expression.
‘Baby, you don’t get me that easy’, was what I wanted to convey.
She made an abrupt turn and left and that is when I tossed the memo into my briefcase and concentrated on the more important aspect of observing every swing of her buttocks as she moved on to the others on her errands. God! That was some serious piece of ass on display, I realized and it necessitated every bit of overtime attention. Maybe, who knows maybe someday …
That is when an unknown number showed up on the mobile and I was about to junk it thinking it would be another telemarketing call, but then it might be a client on another phone – and so picked up.
“Ramesh, is that you?”, was the voice from the other end.
“Of course Riz, which number are you calling from?” Riz, short for Rizwan was a close friend, right from first year of the Presidency college. After studies, I had moved to Mumbai for venturing out in the mad mad world of advertising while he had stayed at Kol. Six years later, I was minor rising star in image-making in an MNC. Six months before, I had also got married to sweet Kajol.
“Arre, I lost my phone, lucky I had saved your number in the gmail contacts. Ab is number ko save kar.”
“Ok.”
“The good news is that I am in Delhi right now aur mein maal dekhne aa raha hun.”
“Maal? Kiski baat kar raha hai?”
“Abbe gadha, Kajol ki, aur kiski.”
I burst into a serious burst of laughter and thought I could choke, the first bright spot of the day. He couldn’t attend my marriage and I had sent him some photos and his first reaction had been that Kajol expected someone better than me – someone like him. And he had made it a point to say it to Kajol when he offered his congratulations to her. Kajol had looked at me haplessly, but I had reassured her that that he was the one person, who all the girls in the class invariably called out when they needed an escort or to do something foolhardy. Kajol had caught on and carried on such light hearted banter thereafter with him. But she was yet to meet him for
“Gadha to tu hi hai, jis se ek mobile hi handle nahin ho pata, aur baat kar raha hai ...”, I couldn’t speak any further as laughter choked me.
“Aj evening, tere ghar, baaki sab baad mein.”
My mind went into an overdrive and the low funk I was in a while ago had completely gone. Happily, I began to conjure up the thought of meeting this old friend, whom I hadn’t seen for over an year.
‘Baby, you don’t get me that easy’, was what I wanted to convey.
She made an abrupt turn and left and that is when I tossed the memo into my briefcase and concentrated on the more important aspect of observing every swing of her buttocks as she moved on to the others on her errands. God! That was some serious piece of ass on display, I realized and it necessitated every bit of overtime attention. Maybe, who knows maybe someday …
That is when an unknown number showed up on the mobile and I was about to junk it thinking it would be another telemarketing call, but then it might be a client on another phone – and so picked up.
“Ramesh, is that you?”, was the voice from the other end.
“Of course Riz, which number are you calling from?” Riz, short for Rizwan was a close friend, right from first year of the Presidency college. After studies, I had moved to Mumbai for venturing out in the mad mad world of advertising while he had stayed at Kol. Six years later, I was minor rising star in image-making in an MNC. Six months before, I had also got married to sweet Kajol.
“Arre, I lost my phone, lucky I had saved your number in the gmail contacts. Ab is number ko save kar.”
“Ok.”
“The good news is that I am in Delhi right now aur mein maal dekhne aa raha hun.”
“Maal? Kiski baat kar raha hai?”
“Abbe gadha, Kajol ki, aur kiski.”
I burst into a serious burst of laughter and thought I could choke, the first bright spot of the day. He couldn’t attend my marriage and I had sent him some photos and his first reaction had been that Kajol expected someone better than me – someone like him. And he had made it a point to say it to Kajol when he offered his congratulations to her. Kajol had looked at me haplessly, but I had reassured her that that he was the one person, who all the girls in the class invariably called out when they needed an escort or to do something foolhardy. Kajol had caught on and carried on such light hearted banter thereafter with him. But she was yet to meet him for
“Gadha to tu hi hai, jis se ek mobile hi handle nahin ho pata, aur baat kar raha hai ...”, I couldn’t speak any further as laughter choked me.
“Aj evening, tere ghar, baaki sab baad mein.”
My mind went into an overdrive and the low funk I was in a while ago had completely gone. Happily, I began to conjure up the thought of meeting this old friend, whom I hadn’t seen for over an year.
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