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01-09-2024, 09:39 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-02-2025, 08:54 PM by garamrohan. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Scars don’t heal (At least Easily!)
I relieved myself in the ergonomic chair at the office, stretching my legs and yawning. It was a hectic day. Had it not been an urgency, I would have ran for the home. I was waiting for mumma to come here, complete the formalities and drive me home with her.
The old, worrisome guy was siting uncomfortably in the opposite chair. His fingers were clashing unnecessarily. Given that his son was hospitalised and soon to be operated, it was understandable. With due empathy to him, I didn’t communicate warm words to him. I knew better, it’s mumma’s sign that was of importance to him. Not my sympathy.
I stood up and walked to the window. Watching at his anxious face shadowed by uncertainty I couldn’t stop smiling to myself. Earning trust is difficult, and who knows it better than me.
I was lost in collecting the thoughts from some good 15 years past.
———
As the peon entered the classroom with notice, Neeraj mumbled at my ear.
“Let’s see,” I said, “ will keep my fingers crossed.”
And when teacher read out of the college trusty’s death, it was evident what will come next. I was trying hard not to laugh. Not because it’s anything funny, but Neeraj had correctly predicted of the remaining day off, as always.
Ours is the prestigious international institute at Ahmedabad. My family was living in a posh colony that time, very close to where I study. I used to carry cycle therefore. And while my bestie Neeraj was supposed to call his dad’s car to pick him up, we decided to have some fun that afternoon.
Obviously, we were heading to a nearby restaurant which serves arguably the tastiest momos you would ever eat. This was but our little dirty secret. Coming from the sophisticated family, we were not supposed to eat non-vegetarian food. But who cared! At least Neeraj didn’t. His mind was all occupied by the triplets - playing bets, eating delicious foods and gossiping about some Mrs. Braganza.
Neeraj was paddling, while I was sitting at back on carriage, teasing him to look after his health. Hearing his heavy gasp I suggested to let me cycle.
And suddenly he stopped, panting and yelling at me to get off.
“What happened, fool?” I asked looking at his weird face and he somehow gathered breath to cry, “That is Mrs. Braganza I keep talking to you.”
“Where? “ out of curiosity I turned back to look at the bike he was pointing.
There was a lady sitting on the classy bike, behind her husband it seemed. She had dressed very beautifully, a typical catholic attire. And she had good curve as could as I figure out. But I couldn’t see her face.
As if Neeraj has read my mind, he whistled nastily, in spirit of some road-romeo. And while I got annoyed by his sudden whistle by my ear, I should have been thankful for his deed as well.
I saw an absolutely pretty face! I was stunned as her gaze whirled to figure out who would have whistled.
“You bloody insane. Have some manners man. She is with her husband,” I said. And the next moment Neeraj bursted into laughter, leaving my cycle to collapse.
“Husband.. are you serious.. hi .. hi .. hi.. Oh my god..” He said.
And for some reason I didn’t like it. I felt twitch in my stomach.
“Common Neeraj. It’s not fun. You cannot defame the woman’s character. He could really be her husband,” I said.
But Neeraj continued laughing, “Husband.. hi .. hi.. hi.. Maybe. For today he may be.” And he did shake his wrist making weird action, “She has many such husbands. Whoever comes with heavy pocket becomes her husband for the day… hi.. hi.. hi..”.
I was feeling discomfort hearing this. I had been empathetic for trouble woman goes through. And whatever may be truth with that Mrs. Braganza, this Neeraj, or for that sake nobody should be spreading rumours about her, I thought.
“So don’t you find her name apt as I said? Bra-gan-za ? Especially looking at her Pom.. Pom.. he enacted breasts at his own chest.
“Disgusting,” I said and walked to pick up my cycle.
We did not cycle but, we were almost at the restaurant.
“So Swami Aakash. Doesn’t your moral radar blinks while eating these momos? This doesn’t seem to bother you as much as my comment on the ladies,” Neeraj teased me and I couldn’t counter argue. So threw a playful punch on his shoulder.
“Easy…..,” He said making weird noise as he talked while eating.
“But tell me one thing, didn’t you like her?” He asked.
“She is pretty but..”
“Then that’s it.. what else I am saying,” Neeraj with his mischievous smile.
“Don’t you think you said much more than that?” I raised my eyebrow while enjoying the momos.
“Don’t you know me? Do you expect me to follow you and be a looser? You anyway going to be some baba one day. Man I want to loose virginity ASAP. Hi.. Hi.. Hi..”
I couldn’t do anything but shake my head, sarcastically.
As I was still eating, the hungry Neeraj was done with, and was playing with the spoons. His eyes were sparkling and something was cooking in his head.
“Looks like devil is thinking of some nasty stuff !” I looked straight in his eyes.
He couldn’t help but grinned. “You’re the buddy man! Damn… I am so obsessed with this Mrs Braganza. Don’t take me wrong, not like I will marry her,” He laughed replying to my amazed eyes, “But you know. Just timepass, she will be damn good I bet. I have dream man to ask her out one day. Let the money burn but at once want to hold her face and kiss her fully man! And not the decent “puppy” you thinking, a deep smooch, piercing the tongue in her mouth and sucking her juicy tongue…. slurrrrrrppp”
When he “slurrrrrped” I bet he was aroused but the next moment he laughed out. I also felt a tingling. “Amazing fantasist and equally good story teller”, I thought and took his leave as we paid the bill.
Even though we did some timepass, I was to arrive at least couple of hours early at my house. I was thinking of watching a latest fantasy movie on my laptop with my mumma. We both had likes for fantasy movies, unlike my dad. And not just for this, due to many experiences I went through, I was very close to my mumma than my dad.
I reached the gate and parked my cycle. It was around 4 p.m. and sun was burning like hell. I was about to open the main-gate when the visuals of our porch shocked me. The blue Porsche car was parked at my door. And my blood boiled and heartbeat was skipped cause I know the owner of the car. Ratan Uncle! The leech in friend’s disguise to my father - Ratan Patel.
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27-08-2024, 11:01 AM
(This post was last modified: 27-08-2024, 03:01 PM by garamrohan. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
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