Yours truly – 3

What will anyone call a girl who is craving to take the head of a totally unknown boy on her breasts, as the tears keep rolling down the cheeks of that boy heartbreakingly? Shameless I guess. But at that point of time Sejal, twenty two springs old was already feeling that the organ on the left of her body was actually missing. Yes I am talking same organ that pumps blood into veins and always becomes a favorite target of a boy-god. But Vivek was such a person I just could not manage enough courage to do what I have contemplated. Instead I went off to canteen and bought two nice cups of tea and handed one over to Vivek. He took it without question, drank it and left the place even without thanking me, which any way I was not expecting.
People undergo lots of emotions when they are in love. But the only emotion that I was suffering from was anger at what was being done to Vivek. I could see through his eyes that he will never be able to trust a girl fully. Every time any one of the female students went to him to talk Vivek became strangely cold. All other times no one could have matched him with his ready wit and the sparkle of a pure soul. Vivek topped his class and after receiving an immense job offer to be a Brand Manager for Procter and Gamble in Cincinnati never looked back and took off for US. That was in 2002. After listening to his voice almost after 4 and half years I was not only excited but curious as well to know what Vad is doing nowadays and why should he need me at all!
I found him sitting at the corner table for two in the discreetly tucked away restaurant called Peter Cat. In front of him was a half drunk glass of an orange liquid. He seemed so much lost in thought that he did not even noticed me till I took my seat in front of him and wished him a god afternoon. “Oh! Hi Sejal, this place had not lost its charm at all. I can still smell the mouth-watering sizzlers being cooked somewhere.” He took a swig of his drink which by then I knew was screwdriver – a cocktail made from orange juice and vodka. Although clean shaven he was looking haggard in a way. Black spots were in the making under the eyes; his impeccable dressing sense was not quiet there as well. “So where you now and what are are you doing, dude, “I asked in a light tone. As if talking in a trance he replied “Well, I am still with Procter and Gamble.” “Currently I am visiting Indian metros in order to promote a fairness product for men.” “Good to know that now even men might feel to become fairer, isn’t it? I told in jest. He smiled. The same lop sided careless grin that made many a legs turn to jelly. Although captivated I knew that I have only an hour maximum to spare. “Tell me how come you remember me after so long a time?”. As soon as I uttered this sentence all signs of happiness seemed to drain out his face. Vivek replied “Sejal, do you and Manoshi only fight for women in distress?” I was taken aback by his question. It is true that most of the time we have found women at the receiving end of different types of mistreatments. Me and my colleagues have actually never been approached with anything different. So I replied “Yes. Currently we are only having the women as clients.” “But what happens if a man comes down to you with the same kind of problems – is there any policy in your organization restricting you from taking the case?” I admitted that actually I have not come across any such kind of biased policy. Manoshi was actually more of a counseling house to oversee that the social texture and composition of a country as vast and diverse as India remains strong. As society forms a strong base in the growth of a country. In fact that was what our mission statement says in gist. I looked at my watch and saw that I have only about half an hour left. “Vivek, Can you please state your problem?” May be I can try and help you out as a friend.” Vivek stared blankly for a few seconds as if trying to recollect something and then he started to talk. “Sejal, you know that after I got hold of a job with P&G I moved on to Cincinnati. This move was more of a kind of an escapist effort than anything else. I wanted to run away from anything and anyplace that reminded me of Chandreyi. And let me tell you after starting to work, I made sure that I work so hard that no such thoughts of betrayal can occupy my mind. After an year or more I was visiting New York City for a trade promotion conference on my company’s behalf. The conference sponsors kept us all in the Grand Hyatt. It was 8 PM in the evening of a bleak winter day; I received a call from the hotel reception that a lady wants to meet me. I was in my sleeping suit. Surprised, I just put on my pull over and went downstairs. One look at the lady and my heart skipped not one but all the beats. It was Chandreyi, and her sweetness now have come a matured beauty. She was dressed in a black top and skirt and looking younger but mature more than she ever had. All the blood must have drained out from my face. As the receptionist apologized profusely and told me that the way this lady insisted on meeting me, she had no option left other than to give me the buzz. Noticing the awkward situation and people looking at us curiously, I smiled wanly at Chandreyi and asked her to step into the coffee shop, which was more or less empty for residents were busy in the lunch room. I ordered and got two cups of coffee. While adding sugar and milk to mine I looked at her in anticipation. My mind was totally in a chaos. “Hi Vivek, how are you doing?” she asked softly. “Fine,” I said. And for the next two minutes almost we did not speak. Then she said that “Vivek, I am sorry for meeting you like this. I actually work in the ROSS store opposite to the convention center where I saw you by chance today. I know that after what I have done to you there is now way that I can ask for any forgiveness. But then the Almighty have also punished me like anything for my cruelty.” She stopped and tears started rolling down her cheeks silently. “
After stating till now, Vivek stopped as well. I asked him, “then what did you do?” he gave a wry smile and then said; “Chandreyi and Sourav after marriage came down to USA and had started living life happily. It was during the Christmas holidays in the year 2003, they went a camping tour to India. They were visiting the Himachal Pradesh in a place call Fagu. This was a place where they were taking skiing lessons as well. One fine morning Sourav complained of severe chest pain. He just could not even speak properly because of the pain. After taking him to the Military Command hospital he was diagnosed with acute pneumonia. And after fighting for life for about two days, he died. After this terrible mishap Chandreyi thought about staying back in India forever. But she needed to come back to USA for tying up few loose ends. And she also took up a part time job in a retail shop just to forget the emotional pain, when she saw me. Naturally I was very much moved by her story and told her to be in touch regarding any help she needed from me. From time to time I started visiting her in New York and within a month or two, I proposed to her and she accepted. We got married and settled down in Cincinnati. A very happy ending to what started off as a tragedy in my life, right?” Vivek looked at me intently.
From my experience in marital discords I can smell out that all was not hunky-dory even after the revival of long lost love. There was more to it or otherwise I would not be sitting in front of Vivek. To be very frank and honest the other Sejal in front of me was becoming restless right from the time Vivek brought upon the topic of that wretched girl. And when I heard that they were married, I was almost too eager to hear the adverb “unhappily” more than the other one. Moving my eyes from Vivek’s stare I rebuked myself inwardly. “What has happened to me? Just for my own sake I am actually wishing ill for Vivek, one person whom I will always remember dearly forever?” I took control over myself with some effort. Vivek had already started continuing. “First six months of our conjugal life was really a great experience for me. I almost forgot any unpleasant experience that I might have endured in the past. I almost thanked God for the opportunity that was given to me. Chandreyi now Chandra for me was the best life partner that I could have dreamt of having. One thing that I noticed but never paid any heed to was the way she used to spend money on costly things and services etc. I always used to think that to have a trophy wife like her one has to make these concessions. It was exactly about 6 months from our marriage I received a call from the manager of my bank asking for an immediate meeting. Sejal, I was not only surprised but also shattered to learn that not only Chandra had withdrawn large sums of money from our joint account; she had also deposited the money to another account at New York as well. I could have understood her spending more money. But depositing the same money to another account to which I have no access or knowledge of was really something strange. I took a leave from work and got hold of her at our house. “Look Viv, I did not do anything out of character. I have already suffered from the sudden death of my first hubby and hence wanted to make sure that my future is secure enough in the eventuality of your death”. I was stunned but still keeping my cool I asked her knowing very well that she will be already be covered by the insurance that I have taken on me, why did she look out for more insurance. And believe me Sejal her face and voice changed totally and then she said with a hiss “Viv I have known you since college days and have always counted you as a loser, hence I have the right to look after my well being at least”. In a fit of rage we separated and started spending life separately. In between I needed to come down to India on business. Even without my invitation she had tagged on and now she is staying in separate rooms in the same hotel providing her maiden name in the register. I am in such a mental turmoil that I can now understand that I have nowhere to go. In this world most of the marital discord rules are heavily biased towards women and in case of a divorce she might rinse me dry of money. And now currently I have another big fear as well. I am not sure why but I have this feeling that what happens if I face the same fate as her first husband had faced?”
I can never forget that the look in Vivek’s face. It was the not only the look of a person who had being cheated badly twice but also the look of a prisoner on a death row, who knows that there is no stopping the inevitable. “Vivek”, I said “Before commenting anything on this unhappy episode of your life, I would like to know how come you thought of coming to me and more so how did you find me?” “Sejal, you are not the first person I have shared my woes. I went off to visit my pal from engineering, Neel, the same guy you have also met during our MBA and currently he is working in the ITC building very near to your office. After listening to my story he was one who suggested that I should visit you. When I came to your office I was confused about which floor your office should be as Manoshi has three floors in the same building. So I waited and saw the only women chauffer among all the men. You can say that knowing you very well I took a chance and went and asked her whether that was your car. After getting no reply I went to the second floor reception and asked for your office number. The lady in the reception was helpful enough and gave me your home phone number as well. “Now that’s the Vivek we all know. Getting anything done using charm and intelligence is like his second nature”, I thought. “Why did not you come to my office?” I asked. “ because I am not a woman and I do not have any proof that I am right and lastly, I did not want any problems as my company is specific about these things, Vivek replied. “OK Vivek, how long you are staying here?” “Another three days maximum and I am off to Delhi.” “OK. Give me some time and your contact number as well. I need to hurry. I will get in touch with you soon. Do not worry and be brave”. The last lines were exactly the same ones that I have uttered about three years back to a weeping boy of 22 behind a college canteen.

Yours truly - 2

"Hi..err.can I borrow your SM notes please?" Vivek was totally taken aback. A first year electrical engineering student was asking some lecture notes from a second year mechanical student. This is something not only surprising but ridiculous as well. Vivek Basu was a second year student of Jalpaiguri Government Engineering College. The general saying goes he was one of the brightest students that JGEC had ever had. His strong point was not actually studies but his personality. And this never meant that he has flunked in exams. Actually he always used to find a respectable place within the top 20 students in the college. Although he never stood first in studies when it came to winning debates, extempore and creative writing he just never had a match. He started his flare for extra-curricular activities long way back when he was actually 10 years old. It all started with an essay that he wrote regarding street children in the children’s supplement called "VOICES" for the revered English daily The Statesman. He was commended highly by none other than the eminent figure of CR Irani - the editor of the newspaper. From then onwards he did not have to look back and never had to ask a pocket money from his parents. What started off as just a childish essay became a daily activity for Vivek. He used to cover all the major entertainment events in Kolkata right from the age of 15 and became known to most of the city’s glitterati pretty fast. And his good looks as well added to his popularity. So much so, when DD Chanel 2 was looking up for a newsreader for their much vaunted Bengali news event, he almost became an automatically choice for them. At the age of eighteen, when all others of his age were actually mugging up IIT or WB Joint "made easy"s he was actually spending his time in front of camera donning an immaculate suit a bit large for his size and reading Bengali news in front of him.
Vivek lost his mother at a very tender age. And his father was everything in his life. Being a mechanical engineer himself and a successful one at that, he wanted his son to carry on the legacy. Although Vivek was earning much more than he would have done after 4 years engineering, he knew that nothing will satisfy his father unless he at least becomes a MECH - as they call the mechanical engineers. He also knew that he can carry the vocation that he liked much in spite of giving 4 years of his life as well. Every one starting from Mani Ratnam to Anil Kumble came to his mind and provided him the much needed support. And lastly he loved his father so much that he can go till any limits to put a smile in his face. He started preparation for the West Bengal Joint Entrance late, just about 4 months before it actually happened. After the exam was over he continued with some of the assignments that he has already taken, but did not take any new ones. When the results came out he saw that as expected he had a rank of 1134. This did not leave any option to study mechanical any where else other than this JGEC. So on the August of 1996 he packed his hold-all and took the train called Teesta-Torsa from Sealdah to the Jalpaiguri Road Station, where his college was. His father showed false strength in the railway station knowing that now he would become lonelier and blessed his son to go and become a MECH.
They all say and rightly that it is impossible to hide a flare of talent be it anywhere. It was during the rigorous ragging period of one month Vivek became hot favorites of the seniors in the college because of his ready wit and personality in the face of several odds to slaps, kicks, doing odd jobs and still getting the slaps. He never lost his cool and once he really entertained a bunch of savages from the second year hostel with all the idiosyncrasies of the media people for about one hour and actually managed to save the skins of many of his batch mates instantly catapulting him to a hero status.
The ragging period ended with the ceremonial dip in the pond more to actually drive away the stench of the same clothes worn for about a month than anything else and the class of 1996 JGEC Mechs started their journey.
Vivek took a good look at the girl standing in front of him. Chandreyi Roy had caused a lot of heart burns among both her own batch mates as well as some of the senior students (all males off course). Most of their advances had been met with such a cold shoulder that there was not a single chance left for them. Debating on the girl’s motive he looked around himself. Not so far away he can see some girls both senior and juniors were actually peeping out of the vast balcony of the electrical department. The he looked behind and saw some of his own batch mates are grinning very sheepishly. A bit confused he asked her " But you have only EM ( engineering mechanics) in your course and not SM (Strength of Materials), SM is totally a waste for you! " he added hopefully, so that he can frighten the girl about the folly she is going to commit. Chandreyi was a bit red in face and sweating a little. She straightened the V of her palloo and removed the errant strand of hair from her face and flashed her best smile ( which she very well knew is capable of killing anything and anyone with a brain within a periphery of 100 feet) and nasally squeaked, " Vivek, Will you or Won’t you give your SM Notes to me pleaseee".
Vivek heard and saw everything and then just to end the conversation he said, "Please try and understand, I do not have any clue whether you will really need it or not, but then as you are asking for it, do one thing please. Take it from Smita, your senior from Mech second year, as she has already photo copied the same from me about a week back. Ok? And I am getting late for my class. Bye" With that he turned and went straight towards his class leaving behind a few giggles and a very distraught girl.
It was final year for Vivek and it was festival time for the college. The JGEC fest is counted among the best of the cultural events happening in the North Bengal region. And
Looking at his charisma he was made the cultural secretary. This was again a post which actually made him do a few more rounds of the girl’s hostel than he would have liked. From childhood he had been very shy of girls. As he grew up this shyness became almost like a shield for him. He knew that he likes to entertain people, do something creative. But in front of the fairer ones he became helplessly tongue tied.
It was a cold November evening when he needed to go to the LH or Ladies’ Hostel in short to distribute some of the advertisement forms. It was around 7 PM and he found that there is almost no light at all in the place. "WBSEB has again done it", he thought. He saw light coming out of the waiting room cum common room and went towards it. It was the first time he was entering LH. On getting into the common room he got a very sweet smell unlike the smell of sweat and rustic that comes out of the common room of the men’s hostels. Everything starting from the carom board to the settee was decorated in a very tasteful but frugal way. The he had a look towards light source and gasped inwardly. It was Chandreyi sitting on the paper room’s chair and table. She wore a velvety kind of a night dress and was actually reading something. Listening to his footsteps she looked up. "Where is the supervisor?" He muttered, and then remembering that he should speak up and well with a lady as taught by his father, he said "Hi Chandreyi, I actually came to distribute some of these advertising pamphlets". Chandreyi was still looking at him. Finding no response he said impatiently, "I am going away and will come back some other time" and turned. "Hold on please and give them to me" he heard. She has stood up and for the first time Vivek smiled effortlessly in front of a girl. She came to Vivek and stretched her hand. Noticing her fair complexion, Vivek gave the ad-cards to her. Instead of taking the cards Chandreyi took Vivek’s Hand and in a flash almost threw herself to Vivek’s chest. Vivek was caught unaware and his first reaction was actually to hold Chandreyi with two hands lest he should fall. Losing no pace Chandreyi planted a kiss on Vivek’s lips. The sweet fragrance coming out of her hair, the wamth of her body and the beating of his own heart almost took Vivek in a trance like state. He did not notice whether it was 2 seconds or minutes or hours, but it felt like heaven almost. When Vivek tried to look into Chandreyi’s eyes she will not look up. So Vivek almost forcefully took her chin up just to find that she was smiling with tears. Cupid had made the first strike. Vivek took Chandreyi’s hand and came out of the LH. It was still dark. And then they started walking hand in hand through a solitary lane within the college campus. Not finding any words Vivek said "where are the other people in the LH?" "They have gone for a small party to celebrate the hostel’s 10th year in existence". "You stayed behind?" "Yes, I am still running a bit of fever". Vivek was worried and said that "Then I should not have brought you outside in this cold. " Let us get back". "NOOO", she said and embraced Vivek sideways.
When it was time for Vivek to leave the campus, Vivek was totally sure that his love for Chandreyi was strong enough to be carried over to the next level which is the commitment to stay together for a lifetime. She had still one year to complete her engineering and he had got through one of the premier B-Schools in Kolkata. Although he was pained by the distance separating both of them he was sure that when they will meet they will be for each other. Chandreyi was always the stronger willed partner of the two and she told Vivek in very clear words that Vivek should go and concentrate only on his post graduation while she completes her course. They will be in touch with each other through mails, chat and phone. And also when Chandreyi will go to Kolkata they can always find a quiet place together to share everything. So off went Vivek to get into the world of business management. It was July 2000.
They were keeping in touch with each other for about 2 months when suddenly Chandreyi totally went of the radar. Vivek took it as a simple case of giving the studies the first priority. About 4 months went by. Vivek was completing the grueling first semester. Like in engineering college, he gained popularity in the b-school as well through his winning personality and bagged a lot of intra-college management event prizes as well. He was almost a natural in the skills of marketing and convincing. And he actually now loved what he was studying. His worries about his love started when he came to know from his juniors that although Chandreyi had visited Kolkata as many as two times she did not even thought of giving him a call. He sent mails, tried to call up the ladies’ hostel. But nothing came to his avail. Chandreyi it seems that, have severed all links. He was worried and by the end of the second semester his grade took a bit of hit as well. Although he never knew what went wrong, he had his doubts that her feelings about him were actually a kind of hero-worshipping and not love. In his batch of management students there was a girl called Sejal Shah. Although Sejal was gunning for a specialization in HR in the first semester itself they were together for different group activities because of the proximity of their role numbers. Although the girl was not as sweet as Chandreyi, she had an air of sobriety and truthfulness around her which made many a people to share many of their personal thoughts. Vivek knew that Sejal liked him but was lady enough never to let her wish known to him. But his mind was full of Chandreyi - her laughter, her frowning, her touch everything. It was Sejal only who found Vivek hidden and with tears rolling down his cheeks behind the canteen. It was to Sejal then Vivek shared the truth that the final nail in coffin of his love had been driven. He had received the communication that Chandreyi was getting married to an NRI that November of 2001. And what pained Vivek’s conscience more so that Chandreyi had known her husband to-be from her childhood. Sejal had no words of consolation, none at all.

Yours truly - 1

I was feeling so sleepy that I could have dozed out at any point of time. The silky glow coming out of the UV Protected computer screen in front of me was having the same effect as a night lamp. It was a rainy September day and the skies outside had really opened up and spraying all the mortals below with its showers. Although I could not listen I was actually witnessing the lightening flashes all around through the tinted glass windows all around. It was 6 PM and time for me to leave office after a lazy day. Durga Puja the best festival in this part of India was just around the corner. It was more like the incessant rains that had managed to bring down all professional activities to a halt. Most of my Bengali colleagues including my boss were absent. Me being a non-bengali or to be precise a Guajarati was actually passing time.
Before going further ahead let me introduce myself. I am Sejal Shah, a mid twenties girl with all the ambitions in this world stuffed in my head. I hail from a small village near Surat where most of the girls around my age are not only married till now but some of them are proud mothers as well. Among my other two brothers and one sister I am actually the black sheep of the family. And the reason behind it is my mother. She is the guiding soul in my life who had shown me the lights whenever I faltered from any of projected goals. When I became the first graduate in my family to pass BA in economics with honors from Baroda University, she was the first one as always to provide all the people in my family and neighborhood with dhoklas and laddoos free of cost. Both this distribution of food and my becoming a graduate was something unheard of in my family where the actual business through the ages was that of diamonds and not university degrees. My father was not at all happy and I was almost banished by my own family. If some of you going through my rambling think that as a drastic affair then let me fill you in with the fact that most of my known native people were not even interested to know the age or education of a girl while preparing her match. They just wanted to know the so called "haisiyat"or status of the family and how much will be the dowry.
As told earlier my mom was a crusader all through and all her hopes were pinned on me. So next what she did was got me exported to Ahmadabad in the next available train and I was sent to a spinster sister of my Mom to continue with my studies. I personally have let down a lot of people in my life. My diamond merchant father who was terribly afraid thinking where from and what cost will he be able to get a groom for his learned daughter. My brothers and sister who never got through any classes and they thought their elder sister to be an enigma of sorts. And that list kept on becoming longer.
To cut a long story really short, I made through all the tests in my life and got into one of the premier B-Schools in India here in Kolkata. And after passing out what the Yanks say " summa-cum-laude" declined an obscene salary in a New York City based multinational and settled to experiment in an NGO which was not swanky to say the least but it still provided with the kind of job that I think I was capable off. And Kolkata not being a very costly city I did managed to do well with whatever salary I was offered.
I was laughably snided upon by my batch mates who were now almost sure that however eccentric they have thought of me was actually much less that what I was in reality. Other than my professor for OB all thought I must have gone nuts. Mr. Sumit Tripathy, the terror of human resource management was actually an affable guy in his late fifties. He was the only one to congratulate me openly. I still remember his words ringing in my ears. "Do whatever you think you love to do - but do make sure that some idiot pays the salary".
While in a state of semi-trans I was actually remembering all these things. And I was feeling very lonely as well. My beloved mom had passed away last year. Sickened by the demands of her family she was also becoming the victim of extreme work. And her heart was not getting any better. I fought a lot with my own people to save her, but I was brutally counter attacked by my father who lamely stated the fact that I was not part of the family any more and more than any thing my mother’s contribution is very much needed to keep the family running smoothly. And hence I was not shocked to hear that my mother has contributed her life to the good of the family. When I was coming back with tears in my eyes after the altercation with my father, Ma told me one thing very clearly that even something bad happens to her she will be happy always to know that she is leaving behind her legacy in me. Remembering those kind words made me even lonelier.
"Shejol, ghor nehin jayega?" I was suddenly jolted out of my reverie by the baritone voice of the Senior Accountant, Kunal Da, the fatherly gentleman in his late fifties. A very amiable fellow but with dangerous sense of hindi like many other bongs. "Kunal Da, it is Sejal and ghar nahin jaungi" I replied with a smile on my face. "Are Charo na, it is all in the meaning, whetever be the language". Shaking my head in submission I just smiled at him. Kunal Da has been with Manoshi almost from the time of its inception in Ithaca, New York. A brilliant number cruncher he has actually chucked a happening career in banking to join Manoshi, after the sudden death of his daughter about 10 years ago. Then Manoshi was not a global NGO as it is now. It was just a hole in a wall organization mostly funded by the Ford and Rothschild foundation. Manoshi was then a movement lead by the charismatic figure of Lady Shonali Sen, a UK based NRI who wanted to give back something to her country of origin. After the untimely death of his daughter Kunal Da has received mail by post in his Kolkata address from his daughter. As usual the mail was late due to Indian Postal System. The whole letter stated one fact that what was claimed as an accident by his daughter Aparna’s in-laws was something more than that. Kunal Da through a commonly known associate approached the Lady in Manoshi. And Aparna’s accident case was opened up in due time by the law and order people. Serious investigations proved that the car Aparna was driving has been tampered with and the death due to brake failure was nothing but cold-blooded murder executed by her own husband and brother-law so that, they can feast on the hefty insurance money to be disbursed on this eventual death. Kunal Da was then shattered totally and he actually can never get the fact that where he actually went wrong when he married his sweet daughter with a budding business man. To put it mildly Aparna was slaughtered in order to cover up a huge business loss that this budding business man had gone through. Although he could not stop his own daughter’s demise, Kunal da made it a point to use his expertise to stop other’s daughters undergoing the same fate.
I picked up my official folders and called Savitri on cell to get my car ready. "Kunal Da, do you need a lift till Ravindra Sadan"? I asked. Now Kunal da looked at me and said with a smile "It is Ro-bin-dro Shadon" and no I will be going to howrah via the old bridge today. So you can go ahead". Showing my teeth I moved on. It was 7 PM and the rains have taken a break. On the Kenwood a song by Hemonto (hope I have got the spelling right!!) was playing. Savitri, my personal aide cum driver cum cleaner cum guardian was in one of her good moods and the song was a rainy day song something like a : Meghla.. din… akela etc". The melody was good and it made me feel good as well.
"Shejdi, today something interesting happened while I went for fetching the car from the car park". As usual Savitri or "Shabitri" have again "bengalified" my name, broken it and added a "di" to it. In fact I have heard so much prefixes in the form of "da"s and "di"s after coming to Kolkata for last five years that I have grown accustomed to it. "What happened?" I loosely asked. "A very handsome man came down to me and asked whether this is your car or not. Instead of giving a reply I just ignored him. He became very sad and went away from there." I was a bit surprised. I have already crossed the age of girls where they always seem to enjoy extra attention from boys. And as per Savitri this is a man and not a boy. On asking her how did she know she replied in a very mature tone "Girls have an inborn knack of separating men from boys"? I started laughing at her sermon which made her very sulky. She said that she is ready to bet her one month’s salary on this fact. I was now not only surprised but a bit worried as well. Because the profession I am in never makes friends especially with the men. As Manoshi is always fighting and helping the cause of the fairer sex the darker ones are always ill at ease with this organization. In fact a few months back I have been threatened with life by a political goon as well whose bosses’ wife I was defending from marital atrocities. In my cell I always have the numbers of the high positions in the law and order apparatchiks. When Savitri ultimately took a turn toward Rowland Row, I shrugged off all my baseless fears and got ready to get out in front of my apartment block. The building in which my flat was actually constructed by a distant uncle of mine. Hence I got the 800 square feet flat dirt cheap. It was in the 7th floor and was amply airy and sunny as well. I really relished the prospect of sharing this abode of mine with none at all. It was eightish by the clock, when I switched on the television and asked Savitri for a cup of coffee.
I was engrossed in the business news from NDTV Profit when I heard the melodious ring tone of my telephone. Calls at ungodly hours are a routine in my profession which is actually more like counseling than management. So, without thinking anything I picked up the receiver. "Can I speak with Sejal Shah please?" on the contrary to my normal lady in trouble calls this was a man’s voice. Although surprised I did not show any. "Yeah, this is Sejal. Who is this please? After 2-3 seconds pause, the man responded, "Sejal, this is Vivek, remember?". " Vivek.. eh… who Vivek? And then the realization hit me. Trying to gain a control on the floodgates of memory, I blurted out "Vivek (Vicky) Basu? Apna VAD - Vicky the Dashing…!! "Haan, he replied". "Sejal, I want to meet you tomorrow… no not in office, somewhere else, can you take tomorrow’s lunch with me please??" The urgency in his voice was something which did not let me say a blunt "No". He told that he will give me a call tomorrow and hung up wishing me a good night.