Woke up unnaturally early this
morning to fulfil a very old fetish of depositing my cheques in the first
clearing. The wife had begun waking me since 9.30 am and I gave up after three
attempts and half an hour later. Skipping brushing my teeth after gargling a
couple of times and quickly pulling on a pair of jeans, I ran out to reach the
bank before 10.30. I reached the bus stop a couple of blocks away and saw a 345
cruising in empty to its first stop after departure. I walked in and thrust my
wallet and knowingly he held it to its device without opening it and handed it
back after nodding that it was valid. Thumbs up to digilife.
I reached the bank and was out
within a couple of minutes. I walked a few blocks ahead to the bank where the
wife and daughter’s accounts were and passed by the Rock Enclave where we
resided a decade back. Remembered a couple of memories passing by as I reached
the destination I always looked forward too. An all women bank and that too filled
with pretty young and not so young ones. There was a queue since it was a
Monday morning after the weekend holidays and one more tomorrow for Gudi Padva.
Waited looking around the beauty and for my turn when the phone rang and the
panic attack resurfaced immediately when I saw that the call was from school.
It had been a terrible ordeal and
I had spent the weekend and two more days in the hospital with my sick daughter
as events loomed ahead for the week. A childhood friend had arrived from Canada
on his annual and another was celebrating his 50th. My nephew was
turning 21 on Saturday and the family had arranged for a surprise. It was
immense relief when the doctor decided to release her on Tuesday. She was still
complaining of aches and pain and I had decided to change the course of her
medicine. I called the wife and rushed back home. Brushed my teeth, had
something to eat for breakfast, had a quick shower before the daughter arrived
early from school. It was already past one when I ran out, blowing quick good
byes and reached the bus stop again. I thought I recognized the letter ‘S’ on
the back of the bus which had already left and I hopped on the bus which
arrived next. Fortunately, the lights were still red and I hopped on to my bus
to Juhu. I reached the hotel a full two hours later and dreamt of the day when
I would be cruising on a metro train. I completed the couple of assignments for
the day. Lunch was being ordered when the phone rang again and I was pleasantly
surprised by the caller. Shashi Nair had metamorphosed from friend to
philosopher. He was taller than me in all dimensions. My last hurdle towards
enlightenment has always been resentment and he was someone I looked up to for
inspiration.
He was hosting a rendezvous at
his home as Dara was returning back home on Thursday. I told him about the
appointment with the doctor at 5 pm and promised to be there as soon as
possible. Today was my Dad’s birthday and he would have been 91! Suddenly I
felt like celebrating and wished for the day to end on a right note.
I booked an Ola for the wife and
daughter and once again walked out of the hotel to board a bus to Bangur Nagar.
I had already logged two and a half hours and set about 45 minutes more to my
next destination. Scanned the ET for important news and lingered the most on
the editorial, the speaking tree and the international news. Checked the latest
aspiration on Panache as the bus cruised ahead on light traffic.
The assistant doctor grilled us
for two hours asking questions right from birth to date. The consulting doc
questioned us for another half an hour before checking her and handing out medicines
for the week. Hailed another Ola and it was nearing 9 pm when we reached home.
Had a quick shower and followed instructions from the daughter on what to wear
for the evening. Caught a bus again for Thakur Village and at the dot of 10
entered Challengers I and took the lift to 2001. I had logged almost six hours
of travelling for the day.
All the guests had arrived when
Shashi opened the door to a welcome with a hug. Shashi at 6 feet 3 was half an
inch taller, an eternal bearded calm about him. I have lost track of the
duration of our friendship but I feel a tremendous joy whenever we meet, like
now.
Narayan, the quintessential daughter’s
father, with the fashionably haggard looks waved at me. Prasad was still reveling
in the 50th birthday celebration week. Dara, the visiting Canadian
and Ujval the silent observer. I said Hi to the hostess Manju, Shashi’s better
half and the hostess of the evening. Shashi came back from the kitchen with a
tall half litre pilsner glass and a bottle of Heineken’s. He poured a generous head
and I had to suppress myself from grabbing the glass and chugging it … for etiquette
sake. I lifted the glass and toasted to everyone’s health, wealth and happiness
with a special cheers to Dara. I opened my mouth to let in the civilisation’s
second born liquid, cold, feeling the zest of the hops and the sweetness of the
barley.
The conversation meandered
randomly as I was soaking in the beer and the world seemed to be at its happiest
level. Narayan was describing London’s unpredictable weather which led to
Toronto and Ottawa. Dara talked about the Québécois and their special status like our Kashmiris.
Supriya arrived carrying with her, usual cheerfulness
triggering good humour all around. I flitted from conversation and was talking about
food with the girls. Something’s Fishy and the celebrity ridden Melting Pot at
Juhu. I reminisced the day when Krishna Raj Kapoor had arrived with her gang which
included Sadhana, Nimmi, Nanda, Helen, women we dreamt about in our teenage
years. The day when I missed meeting the nightingale of India or the day when
we had to send a car to pick up ladyfish from another restaurant to serve Ranbir with Rishi and Neetu. The day, quietly
watching Sachin from the corner of the front office.
All the while Manju was magically refilling the plates
with farsan, peanuts, broccoli mushrooms, fried chicken legs, the indigenous
cheese omelet which was a delicacy to savour. The Glenfiddich, Absolut, and the
Hieneken were slowly gaining approval when Maker’s Mark made its surprise entry.
The dinner call was once again ignored for another round of drinks.
It was past midnight when the dinner was laid out by
magician Manju. Chicken curry, chapatis, appam, dal rice and vegetables. Flying
in and out of the kitchen with refills and ambidextrously flipping chapatis
in one burner and appams in another was
a feast for the eyes. I ate like never before and even helped myself to a
portion of rice as Ujval looked on approvingly. A Baskin Robbins butter scotch my
all-time favourite appeared like an awaited miracle. Nothing could go wrong now.
It was finally time to bid adieu and I hugged Manju and promised her something.
It was nearing 2 am as I waited alone for my ola to
arrive outside the gates of the Challengers and found myself at peace again.
A passage
from the upcoming “A SUCCESSFUL LOSER - MEMOIRS”
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