Amidst the hot and humid afternoons, the lunch was still
a To-do Task on a festive day. Half
of the neighbourhood was almost asleep after a mouthful gourmet and I was busy
thinking what to cook. I scanned the entire kitchen and apart from noodles,
there was nothing interesting I could have made. So, I got Dal Khichdi from a restobar
nearby that looked dreadfully empty. When I reached home, I had a strange
visitor who also happened to be my friend.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at your place?” I asked with
a reluctantly unwelcoming tone.
He didn’t say anything, but he snatched the parcel from
my hands and started distributing the food.
“Hey!” I yelled while he continued to divide the food
into three plates.
“Is there anyone else coming?” I asked with a furious
voice.
Ravi entered the room with another bag of parcel and it
was another batch of food. I was hungry like a dog anyway and we all started gobbling.
I went into the kitchen to get a water bottle, but instead I found a bottle of
scotch. Looking at the label, I suspected it to be a Speyside 1965. I filled a peg for Ravi and offered it to him. He
silently raised a toast to me while he was still chewing the food and making
those awful sounds. I went back to the scotch and took a sip from the bottle
itself.
Fuck! This tastes like
grapes dipped in honey.
I was stupefied by its divine taste.
Speaking of divine - Shit! Today
is an auspicious day. I wasn’t supposed to drink.
I was swearing more than the judges in the Roadies
audition.
Screw this! I already took
a sip. I can’t put it back.
I realised what I’d done and finished my lunch anyway.
The moment I stepped out of my house, I realised I was
in Agra. I was attending a cousin’s wedding and she was sitting beside me on
the stairs while I was taking pictures of Taj
Mahal. I was in a very good Instagramming
mood, but my mother too came in and turned the entire Instagram session into a “Wedding Album” database.
I went out by evening to get some fresh air and to my surprise;
I was being chased by some goons. I didn’t know at all who the fuck they were.
It looked as if I’d raped their sisters or mothers and they were after my life
to seek vengeance of a kind. I too wanted answers, so I waited. I waited for
them to approach me and ask them what they actually wanted from me. When they
saw me standing still, they slowed down. One guy was approaching with heavy
footsteps gradually nearing me. His hands were holding an anvil that
approximately weighed a ton. He threw the fucking thing onto me and I somehow
dodged it. I found a full-metal sledge hammer and I lifted it with all my
strength. I too swung it and knocked his head off. I ran from the scene into
some school that looked very familiar.
Guess what? It was my school where I was first bullied
by some fat douchebags. I actually saw myself being chased by them and the Younger Me ran up the stairs, bumped
into the Present Me. It was ME, who
saved ME from the past and I kept wondering why I always get such dreams where
I am being chased by some lunatics. I wanted to run away from all this and I went
to the bus station. I was peacefully having Vada Pav and guess, who did I bump
into now? It was my crush! The moment she looked at me, she knew I would smile
at her and walk away, as always. But, this time, I was running away anyway! So
I thought, why not run away in some fucking style? I smiled at her – true, but
then, I approached her, I hugged her tightly and said, “You will miss this moment
for the rest of your life!” I kissed her and disappeared into the crowd. She
stood there flabbergasted in her pink and white floral kurta, looking ravishingly
blank; an expression so rare and so gorgeous, I could never forget the sight of
it even after the end of my afterlife.
When I reached home, the pendals were all down and there
were no people. There was no music, no fireworks and the silence was chilling. The
workers were taking off the bamboo poles from the place and my uncle was
standing like a statue. I began yelling at him asking for an explanation. He
was numb; physically, mentally and emotionally. I could feel his pain and I
held on to that final bamboo pole which the workers were trying to dislodge. I
kept shouting – “I want answers” but nobody uttered a word. The lights in the
entire premises were turned off, and I was alone biting the dust as I lied on
the ground, weeping in despair. I could hear the music in my head but I failed
to make the world listen to it.
Was it a coincidence or déjà vu? Was it meant to be this
way or was it a stroke of luck? Did I mess with the imaginary time machine or
did it happen all by itself? I have no clue. Well, such was a siesta dream
after a long-fucking-time.
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