Posted in Pic credits : Shubham, Short Story, Uncategorized

Perfect menu in my plate : Some Pickles with letters to weight

Not that I know importance of colours very deeply but I still feel that they have something in them which supplies a mood of rhythmic divine.

With celebrations concluding I dusted the dry gulaal off my face and joined back the warm cup of green tea and heaps of virtual files waiting for me in an empty meeting room at the 19th floor of the cyber city glass tower. The festive season coupled with March closing has its own disputed flavour. I spent another continuous 5 hours with balancing numbers, equating cash flows and generating memos.

The wave of Start-ups has created a new culture of its own, they usually create a one-man army from each of us equipped with all automated resources & tools updated on our dear companion – The laptop.

A large clock at the rear end of cafeteria knocked a sharp 12. Usually it’s a difficult vision from the place I was sitting, but it’s almost as easy to note two needles coinciding at top end of a circle as to a slow, balanced & centred delivery at a bowling alley which comfortably assures a Strike.

I thought it must be a high time I should remind myself of some supper needs. I walked out and took the elevator to ground floor. Ironically, we have all sorts of cuisine serving restaurants & food courts in cyber area but still the place which is most alive at this hour of a night is dhabas & sutta corners.

I walked straight inside to the corner back end table. Picking this table had 3 reasons- firstly, while sitting here one can have a whole view of dhaba; secondly, this table is hardly noticeable for a single person sitting & dining; and thirdly, it was the only unoccupied table with a single stool left to sit upon.

Ya garmiyon ki raat jo purwaiyan chale, thandi safed chaadaron pe jaage der tak

taaron ko dekhte rahe chath par pade huye… Dil dhoodta hai fir vahi, fursat ke….!

Today, this dhaba has a very endearing taste of old Bollywood songs, thanks to the owner who let its customer connect speakers with their bluetooth device. While I ordered Keema parantha, this song had already started to fill the hollow sphere inside me. I started to hum the lyrics along with the tune and enjoy the view of corporate crowd rushing in and out of the dhaba.

And then this orange hair-streaked girl met my eyes in the hope of finding a table, I caught the same and signalled her that although I have some space in this small plastic table but there is no extra stool. She still came to me telling the waiter on her way to deliver her order here at my table. While she came to me I felt a little agitated and thinking “what is she expecting? She shouldn’t be thinking of me offering her my stool.” She waved at me with a smile and kept her belongings on a table. I told her at once “Actually I am yet to start and I am waiting for my order”. She replied “Yes, its fine. I assume you’re here by yourself, right.” I nodded Yes with no further clue of how is she going to make a seating at my table.

Suddenly a guy at the next table came to her carrying his own seat in his hand “excuse me I think you’re looking for a stool”. She responded “Ohh this is yours, I have told bhaiya to arrange one”. The guy insisted “No worries I’l take the other one, looks he is taking a while (he stopped, gazed and said) or if you want you may join me at the table there with my team.” She took the stool with a long smile “Ohh stool is fine, Thank you Sir”. “Arrey its Vikram and yeah pleasure is all mine” he said as he left back to his dining squad.

I was amazed both at the timings of this change in the background song to

“aane vala pal jaane vala hai, Ho Sake to Iss Mein Zindagi Bitaado, Pal Jo Yeh Jaanewala hai”

and also at exaggeratedly humble approach to the lady by this guy who coincidently shares the same name as mine. So she sat while both our orders were placed on the table, I had an obvious satirical smile over my face with the lines

“ek baar waqt se Lamha Gira Kahin, Wahaan Dastan Mili Lamha Kahin Nahin, Thoda Sa Hasaake Thoda Sa Rulaake, Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai Ho Ho..”

She calmly opened to me “what’s the point to grin about?” I said “Ohh nothing, it’s just the song and…”

She: “And? And what?”

Me: “Well.. the song & the situation”

She snapped “there is No situation.”

I steadily answered “If there isn’t then why is this Vikram guy sitting with his i-pad getting the song changed to…?”

“Tum aa gae ho, noor aa gya hai…nahin to charago se lau jaa rahi thi”

She ignored my reference and said very dramatically “this waiter is messed up, see my alloo ka parantha is in your plate while your keema parantha is in mine.” And she swapped the plates swiftly. As I was starving and given that a delicious keema parantha with amul butter floating all over, was calling me for a good time with it; I started to ate.

Arrey what’s the hurry? You know if you call yourself that foodie then you must wait for all the right dishes to be present in your plate. While she said this, she poured some home-made pickles from a tiny earthen pot kept on the table, the one she always carry in her jute bag. I was delighted “Myra, I must say I have never had a achaar as fine as you bring.”


The background music has reached…

“Kaha se chale kaha ke liye khabar nahi thi magar ..Koi bhi seera jaha ja mila wahi tum miloge… Ke ham tak tumhari duwa aa rahi thi..

Tum aa gaye ho nur aa gaya hai”

Myra: Yeah, he is only good in one thing that’s to prepare the best pickle. And now that I am the only one to consume the same I should eat all, before it gets tangy.

Me: Hey! take my advice and try patching up with him again.

He has understood the point now.

Myra: I can’t trust him anymore.

Me: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

Myra: Achha ! What if he was diagnosed with depressive disorder and I had opted out crying over instead of supporting him.

Me: Yeah.. but he has realised his mistake with time. You have to understand that our society is still not so mature to deal with psychological maladies, no matter how common they are.

Myra: But why coming back now? When I am back to normal? Why wasn’t he there when I needed the most.

Me: I have nothing much to say for the unknown reasons of him, taking some substantial time to understand but how I can see today is that he has always treasured you and that’s why he kept sending you your beloved pickles at your door step every month, while he wasn’t there for you.

Myra: Yes, I can’t ignore appreciating him for that. His pickles are as pleasant as the letters he writes to me. I actually love them both.

Me: both?

Myra: Yes, pickles and the letters.

Me: and the one crafting them both?

The song changed again to…

 “Aap ki aankhon mein kuch maheke hue se raaz hai, Aap se bhi khoobsurat aap ke andaaz hain”

Myra: Hmm.. you can’t expect me to answer that, especially with this gigantic distance you’ve created now. Hope your March closing will end sooner and you will be back to Jersey in no time.

Me: Sure honey! Don’t forget to take medicines. And yes you’re looking as gorgeous as you looked in the morning. Needless to appreciate this Vikram guy who is playing these superb songs for you.

“Aap ki baaton mein phir koi sharaarat to nahin, Bevajaah taarif karna aap ki aadat to nahin

Aap ki badmaashiyon ke yeh naye andaaz hain”

Myra: Don’t act as if you’re shrewdly mischievous. We have still not patched up.

Finish your day now and travel to your hotel asap.

Me: Certainly. Even your working hours must end in couple of next few hours.

I bid her bye with a smile and so did she.

Myra signed off from the skype. I kept looking at the blue screen of skype till that tiny green dot against her name turned brown.

“Aap ki khaamoshiyaan bhi aap ki aawaaz hai, Aap ki aankhon mein kuch maheke hue se raaz hai”

I signed off the skype and so the music from you-tube in an alter tab of the i-pad.



ek khali kora panna, ek pencil ka nanha tukda, muthi bhar adhurey khwab.... Or ishq, atey jatey lamho se.. ehsaas se!

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