They say that we women are one of the most intangible things, that to understand us is the impossible even for god what say about man. I really don't know about that, i think it is very easy to understand me or what i want, for what i want is one simple thing, i want Debyajeet.
Let me take you back about three months when debyajeet joined our office. Our is a entertainment production house, what that means is that all those silly serials that people see on tv, we make them. debyajeet had joined in as assistant creative director. I am an aspiring movie actress, but instead of desperately vying my luck in bollywood i first tried the easier option of getting into serials. A pretty face, a really hot body touched up wid a smooth voice and loads of attitude get you to a lot of places, serials is one of them.
Debya has no great looks or a hot body, that ways he is just ok, he is average and lanky, infact i so wish that he atleast had cute butts but no looks wise he was just about average though he has mischevious eyes, i think of his body that is about all that is really good, his eyes. But even when all the other actresses were busy crooning with the hunks, some of whom who could barely act, all i could do was gush over debya. I can't really put a finger to it but i guess in a world where everybody is a hunk and looks like hrithik roshan you start to value stuff deeper than that, that was debya for me. During the breaks While the other actors were playing the fool or hitting on us co-stars there he was sipping his coffee or puffing on his cigar and reading satyajit ray or this or that. After work he would stay back and play chess with the camera men, they would also include the other crew, people the other actors and all never hung about with. It was not like he isn't crazy like the other guys, u shud see when they play quake or nfs on their laptops, the taunts he gives, though probably one of the wittiest i've heard. Even the way he goes about the work, his energy and enthusiasm are like contagious, though sometimes he gets angry like anything but most of the times he's even patient with the dumbest of us, and its not like he's being patient but more like he understands that everybody can't see his vision in one go, he takes time and tries different ways of bringing home the detail, the point.
So that is me, a hot actress woefully infatuated wid my assistant creative producer. Now the only problem is that anybody else if they had the slightest inkling that i liked them would have gone to the temple and thanked their stars, but debya is like cold, as in he's really not interested in me. And its not like he's gay or anything, in our industry you get to know who is what, he had a girlfriend earlier, Rashi, a junior producer or something, she went abroad for studying movie making further never to return. And just in case you are thinking so here is a pretty girl after an intellectual guy and he doesn't like her so she must be really dumb. But the whole thing is i'm not, i was a topper at school, am well read, know a lot about world affairs and yet for the past three months all i have been getting is the cold shoulder and i am at my wits end to understand why, why o why? what is it that he wants.
About a month back it struck me, to u know try and find out the real person, see what life he lives and everything and i have become almost an amateur detective by now. He lives with a flatmate in friends colony, drives a black corsa sail, never goes to a temple or any religious place, every saturday he hits the bar in taj mansingh and flirts royally there with the waitresses, but i guess it all in good fun, seems the people there are his friends and all, cause he never got slapped by any waitress there even with but pinching and all and neither did he bring any home, ever. He buys books from crossword and also rents a few out from a library close by.
Heck i even managed to sneak into his place once when he wasn't there when the maid came pretending to be there to meet him. He maintains a mixture of tidiness and clumsiness. the room is clean and so is the table but the bed is like one big clutterhouse. He has a poster of an Aston Martin hung over his bead and one of bob dylan on the side wall. He reads a whole gamut of books including porn, some pretty kinky also, heck he even likes archaeology.
On one sunday he went to a home for the destitute kids, looked like he was sponsoring a kid, he did talk to him but i think he looked awkward, he hugged him and all, gave him gifts he had brought but never got really pally with him and the kid looked so like i want a friend, somebody who i can love and be family with; but i guess debya was the typical guy in his mid twenties not sure what to do with a kid.
But when he's so normal then what is it that he wants, why can't he accept me, what is so wrong with me.
Oh damn the lights have gone now, this happens so often in delhi i tell u its frustrating. Rat a tat tat, looks like somebody found this the perfect time to pay a visit.
"Wait am coming, hold on to your horses for a sec will please"
I manage to light a candle and get to the door, its debya, i'm not sure whether he's seeing a shocked faced, or a pleasantly surprised face or what, all i know is that i don't know what to say or do now.
He brings up a small bunch of roses, i grab them and also my senses "Hey, hi this is surprising, come in come in...the bloody electricity also had to go now"
He comes in in the dark "be careful follow my candlelight" ," here come have a seat" He ploughs down on the sofa "sorry for dropping in without a call, was passing by thought would pay a visit"
For three months i have been wanting him to pay a visit and this is how he comes, when there's no light, i haven't even waxed, damn don't even know if there is anything in the fridge to offer him. He cuts short my thoughts
"So what did you find out?"
"Find out, find out what?" for a moment i can't even connect to the question and then i realise what he's saying
"About me, for the past one month you have been following me more strongly than my shadow, what did you find out?"
"That you are like any other guy, same habits, same everything, Oh debya the whole unit knows i have a thing for you, even you can't be oblivious to that, then what is it that you don't like in me, am i not beautiful, am i not good to have a conversation with, what is it in me that you don't like?"
Even in the dark with just the glow of candlelight i could make out his face change expressions, it became even more serene than before. "I have always had this dream about setting up a school, finally after 5 years of saving and planning i have bought land in himachal, a nice little place in the hills. I will be quitting the job, Raunak will be taking over from next month; i move lock stock and barrel to Himachal by month end."
"Rashi couldn't understand why i would want to leave all of this to go there to set up a school, but thats just me, thats what i always wanted to do."
"You are beautiful and on top of that smart and intelligent, you have a promising career ahead, not as a tv star but in bollywood, the chopra banner is already showing a lot of interest in you, so now you know why i couldn't warm up to you, i couldn't deal with..."
That is as far as he got with his sentence for the sound of my slap on his cheeks resonated through the house..... and then i kissed him, "next time it would be less painful if u just asked you dumbo"...and then i got back to kissing him...and he drew me closer to him, tight in his grasp like i had always dreamt he would...
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Yateem
Yateem was a special kid, ever since he had come to work in the same restaurant as him, the elderly Rakesh had taken a liking to the young fella. He had appeared one day out of nowhere, hungry, in tattered condition. He had just stood there outside gaping at the people chewing on there food, talking, enjoying, bitching everything, totally oblivious to his existence. Rahman bhai the aged propreitor of Rahman Eatery had from his high seat on the cash counter seen the young lad, an eyesore standing in front of his restaurant, but it must have been his lucky day that the old gentleman saw more than just a hungry boy, he also saw the fire in his belly reflected in his eye, a pride which did not let his hands rise to beg, he just stood there gaping at the food as if trying to fill his hunger from there itself.
Rahman beckoned Rakesh the supervisor and told him to see if he could find some work for the lad in the kitchen.
"Do you want food" he asked the boy
Surprisingly the kid moved his head for a no.
Rakesh understood "it's ok, you can work for it, take this knife and start chopping the onions" Ankit you show him how.
Ankit an older lad of 16 took him through the backdoor, got him washed up, gave him an apron and showed him how to cut onions into thin slices for the salad and fine choppings for the cooking."Like this, thin and be careful don't cut your, blood comes out, it hurts like hell and you'll probably get scared at its sight."
From the moment he got down to slicing his first onion he seemed a natural at it. The young lad got down to what he was told to and chopped and chopped, it seemed that the hunger in him instead of sapping him of energy gave him the kick to cut more and more. After finishing off a whole batch of onions Amit a younger lad of 8 handed him a plateful of rice and curry, the lad looked at Amit and then at Rakesh who with a waved his hand "yes yes have it, and be fast, there's more work to be done"
After a whole lot of peeling and chopping the day finally ended. When all the utensils had been washed and the windings up done they all sat down for a cup of tea; "So young lad where are you from?" Rakesh asked
The young kid didn't say anything but looked down nervously. "Tell me your name, which jhuggi u come from, what does your father do?"
"I, I, I have no father..."
"Arrey yeh to yateem hai" cried out Ankit
Rakesh realised there was something that troubled this kid, he had seen many cases before, he didn't want to push the kid any further. "Fine then you can stay with us" Meenu the little girl who used to wash the plates hugged him "yateem bhaiya" , not knowing in her innocence what she had said and with that the christening of the young lad took place.
That had been an year ago since then Yateem had grown, adapting well to his environs. The mornings began with all the kids running to the nearby municipal garden to bathe under the hose while the gardner was away tending to other parts of the garden, having a quick breakfast of poha or something with tea and then starting all the preparations, laying out tables, preparing curries and all, chopping veggies, chicken, mutton. If he had been good at chopping veggies there was nobody better than him when it came to cutting meat. He sliced the meat into chops at the right places and angles even Rahman kaka was impressed by his skill.
But it was not just this that endeared him to the others at the eatery. He was a lively fellow, no game of teen patti was complete without all witty comments on the cards and luck. He could drink two whole bottles of their local brew and yet throw darts with deadly accuracy. He was also kind infact the only thing that pissed of Rahman kaka was that he did not turn away any beggar coming for food, infact it really got him heated up and almost got Yateem a whacking but for the intervention of Rakesh, whose counsel Rahman heeded, who explained to him that on Yateem's instructions meenu would salvage leftovers from the plates before washing and it is this food that Yateem distributed. This not only shocked Rahman but also pleasantly surprised him.
This was Yateem an year into their lives, they didn't know where he came from and he didn't offer any explanations all they knew was that he was an honest, hardworking chap, with wit on his tongue and kindness in his heart. Rakesh really didn't know why but his eyes got moist thinking of this one year that had gone. Yateem was like a son he wished he had. He dried his moist eyes and started reading the newspaper and sipping the chai. Newspaper to him was as entertaining as the movies, you could find enough thrillers, melodramas in the stories, there was also talk abtout sex and astrology and all that at much cheaper price than that of a movie ticket. There was something about two young co-stars of a serial who had finally declared they were a couple long after all the world had said that they were a couple. Then there was this murder case in Delhi, the police it seems had while trying to solve another case stumbled across the remains of another chap. He had been chopped up into nice little pieces, stuffed into a gunny bag and burried in the jungle. The police had traced him to a jhuggi in delhi from the plastic covered ration card. He was a well to do butcher and used to lend out money to the other jhuggi dwellers. He used to stay alone with his young son of 10 years. It seems he had been sexually exploiting a woman who couldn't return the money she borrowed. Finally it seems she had comitted suicide. Two days later the butcher had gone missing, his son had come home that day but then he had gone missing too. That is where the trail got cold, the butcher's remains had been found but the son could not be traced. Suddenly it seemed for Rakesh that the air had gone cold and his breathing shallow. He folded his newspaper finished his last sip of tea and called out "Get moving you lazy buggers, we haven't got all day, look at the tablecloth why is it not aligned right, who washed these glasses the sewer looks cleaner than them" and as another day at Rahman Eatery had begun.
Rahman beckoned Rakesh the supervisor and told him to see if he could find some work for the lad in the kitchen.
"Do you want food" he asked the boy
Surprisingly the kid moved his head for a no.
Rakesh understood "it's ok, you can work for it, take this knife and start chopping the onions" Ankit you show him how.
Ankit an older lad of 16 took him through the backdoor, got him washed up, gave him an apron and showed him how to cut onions into thin slices for the salad and fine choppings for the cooking."Like this, thin and be careful don't cut your, blood comes out, it hurts like hell and you'll probably get scared at its sight."
From the moment he got down to slicing his first onion he seemed a natural at it. The young lad got down to what he was told to and chopped and chopped, it seemed that the hunger in him instead of sapping him of energy gave him the kick to cut more and more. After finishing off a whole batch of onions Amit a younger lad of 8 handed him a plateful of rice and curry, the lad looked at Amit and then at Rakesh who with a waved his hand "yes yes have it, and be fast, there's more work to be done"
After a whole lot of peeling and chopping the day finally ended. When all the utensils had been washed and the windings up done they all sat down for a cup of tea; "So young lad where are you from?" Rakesh asked
The young kid didn't say anything but looked down nervously. "Tell me your name, which jhuggi u come from, what does your father do?"
"I, I, I have no father..."
"Arrey yeh to yateem hai" cried out Ankit
Rakesh realised there was something that troubled this kid, he had seen many cases before, he didn't want to push the kid any further. "Fine then you can stay with us" Meenu the little girl who used to wash the plates hugged him "yateem bhaiya" , not knowing in her innocence what she had said and with that the christening of the young lad took place.
That had been an year ago since then Yateem had grown, adapting well to his environs. The mornings began with all the kids running to the nearby municipal garden to bathe under the hose while the gardner was away tending to other parts of the garden, having a quick breakfast of poha or something with tea and then starting all the preparations, laying out tables, preparing curries and all, chopping veggies, chicken, mutton. If he had been good at chopping veggies there was nobody better than him when it came to cutting meat. He sliced the meat into chops at the right places and angles even Rahman kaka was impressed by his skill.
But it was not just this that endeared him to the others at the eatery. He was a lively fellow, no game of teen patti was complete without all witty comments on the cards and luck. He could drink two whole bottles of their local brew and yet throw darts with deadly accuracy. He was also kind infact the only thing that pissed of Rahman kaka was that he did not turn away any beggar coming for food, infact it really got him heated up and almost got Yateem a whacking but for the intervention of Rakesh, whose counsel Rahman heeded, who explained to him that on Yateem's instructions meenu would salvage leftovers from the plates before washing and it is this food that Yateem distributed. This not only shocked Rahman but also pleasantly surprised him.
This was Yateem an year into their lives, they didn't know where he came from and he didn't offer any explanations all they knew was that he was an honest, hardworking chap, with wit on his tongue and kindness in his heart. Rakesh really didn't know why but his eyes got moist thinking of this one year that had gone. Yateem was like a son he wished he had. He dried his moist eyes and started reading the newspaper and sipping the chai. Newspaper to him was as entertaining as the movies, you could find enough thrillers, melodramas in the stories, there was also talk abtout sex and astrology and all that at much cheaper price than that of a movie ticket. There was something about two young co-stars of a serial who had finally declared they were a couple long after all the world had said that they were a couple. Then there was this murder case in Delhi, the police it seems had while trying to solve another case stumbled across the remains of another chap. He had been chopped up into nice little pieces, stuffed into a gunny bag and burried in the jungle. The police had traced him to a jhuggi in delhi from the plastic covered ration card. He was a well to do butcher and used to lend out money to the other jhuggi dwellers. He used to stay alone with his young son of 10 years. It seems he had been sexually exploiting a woman who couldn't return the money she borrowed. Finally it seems she had comitted suicide. Two days later the butcher had gone missing, his son had come home that day but then he had gone missing too. That is where the trail got cold, the butcher's remains had been found but the son could not be traced. Suddenly it seemed for Rakesh that the air had gone cold and his breathing shallow. He folded his newspaper finished his last sip of tea and called out "Get moving you lazy buggers, we haven't got all day, look at the tablecloth why is it not aligned right, who washed these glasses the sewer looks cleaner than them" and as another day at Rahman Eatery had begun.
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