Foodspitality
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If there is one thing Malayalee NRI ladies do, it is cooking Kerala food
with a ferocity of a lion chasing a Wildebeest. My uncle, lets call him
George fo...
3 weeks ago
That was so many years ago. Still it remains in my brain. I always try to forget it. That was how everything started. Now, I even shudder at the very thought of looking into the eyes of the man who once helped me from the accident. Why did it happen? How did it come this far? Anyways, what is over is over. I hope it’s time we bury it somewhere.
Now in college, after that real dreadful night, when it all went awfully wrong…I feel like a fish out of the closet. Preethi was the first girl to ever do it…to me. And the feeling of guilt that I went through…all those days…oh I shudder at the very mention of it. Why did I even volunteer for it? Where did my reason go? Where was “BiBbi’s great techniques of avoiding Girl troubles.” ? Screw everything. Now everything is just a memory. A dark scar that shows itself at the worst of times…
I cycle up the hill. Oh no its following me! I shift down. and turn the cycle to the hollowness of the cliff beside me. It's better to cycle thin air than to be dinner to Dahaka, the timekeeper, and so the jump! But then, a set of black tentacles have already got its grip on me! Oh No!
I wake up. It was a nightmare. Phew! "Wait a min..What the heck! where am I?" "Oh you are awake", a sweet voice comes from the other side of the drapes...maybe the sweetest ever to my ears ever since..."I'll call pappa" I use all my strength to see who that was. But I couldnt. My back was aching. It was the dirty fall.
Soon I found myself in the company of the owner of whatever place I was in. He was a rather tall man with a thick moustache, and reminded me of forensic experts at the Police Headquarters near Vellayambalam. "Hello kid, I am Sameer Sinha, the IG of Police." Ohkay...I was wrong..he was indeed on top of the food chain. "And this is my daughter Preethi..." I turn my gaze to a rather sweet girl, about my age. Yeah, it was her. I don't know, but what I recieved first was a brief smile that I will never forget.
Preethi Sinha, the daughter of Sameer Sinha, was a class topper in the uptown school. I've heard of her, but then never expected her to be an angel. Apparently, from what Sameer uncle told, it was their car that caused my potential and kinetic enegy to distribute arbitiarily on the road. Preethi wanted to grap the steering, which the IG of police refused and in all that controlling of the wheel and all, I got hit.
Pretty bad and good life turns out at the same time no? How oxymoronic.
"Hey, nice watch!!!". It was that stupid watchmaker guy. He, apart from attending college, which was of no use to him, if you ask me, had set up his own watch shop. But I somehow doubted him. He touches a watch, it's dead the next day, and then Everyone knows there is a watch guy in college. Easy Money.
"Thanks dude", I didn't even bother to look up, was busy looking at my new Cruiser. It was a good watch. Panache 'watch'ated. But then you know how the stupid reflex and response system of man works. You look up. And so did I.
Somehow, something else caught my attention. I saw a recognisable face from the distance. My facial muscles tried to keep my expression concieved but failed. Something between a brief frown, and a gust of sadness projected on my face, or so I felt. It was her!
I turned around. Only 3 days, just 3 days of life as a degree student and even before the sem started, I satrted to feel miserable. Damn, God, why? I am in the same college. You put her here, in purpose! "Fuck!", it somehow involuntary came out.
"Neil, da Bibbi...", a male voice broke the erection of a tomb where I was standing. It was Rajan. We called him Damu. My startled look made him say, "Entheru what Bibbi, you hearing your real name, after a long time eh?" It was true. BlueBoy, that was how I was called. Abbreviated BB which later became 'Bibbi'. It was that stupid excursion at school, We had TV, DVD player, and now you know how that name came no? Well, Damu was then my roommate, my classmate, and now still his irritating shadow follows me even into college.
"Whats the matter Macha?", I aksed raising one of my eyebrows. "Well, its kinda political, so privacy...", he dragged me to a corner, and then began his grand speech. "Ladies, GentleBlueboys, and respected members of the jury..." I looked back. It was cosmos. Noone even cared. Not even the crows which sat on that elcetric cable above until Damu opened his quack quack. But Damu was least concerned, he continued, "..we very well know what happened to dear Neil in his last years in school. But when he cleared the KEEE, we all thought it was over. But then only did we realise lately, it has just Begun!!" The last words were stressed, and underlined with a 'Mogambo' look of Amrish Puri in Mr India, one that Damu perfected over some six seven years. "And what's that?" I asked. The cold voice spoiled every effect of Damu's speech. He came closer, and then in a hissing sound continued, "She is here dude, she is here, you are fuckin dead!" So much for the suspense and the held up F word. I gave my trademark eyebrowraiser at him, and said "Ya, I kinda saw, was just a glimpse, she never spotted me!" Damu's mouth was open, which suddenly converted to a long grin, "Just when the smartass thought he was getting over shit, puke happens!" Somehow Damu was laughing at his own PJ. "Dude, can I go to my first lecture now?" I asked, in an even colder tone.
Damu was wrong. He never knew the whole story. Dirty Gossip collector. In his last schooling years, He was the King of Gossips, a king of all the queens in my class. A rather shameless position to reign on. But then he was with the chics, and so was real content with whatever he got...be it fame, or disgrace. And so as I was telling, he didn't know a thing. Actually noone, which is me ofcourse, bothered to tell him. We had the fear of it being aired live on CNN the very next day. Yeah, We.
We were two extremes of the society. I was a he. She was, well ofcourse, a she. My school was downtown. Hers uptown. The only thing we had in common was the fact that we both belonged to The Middle class Family. Neither so poor, nor so rich. Not higher middle class, not lower either. Somewhere in between. I was about 7 months elder to her, but then we were like friends. We met in the 7th grade. Actually it was an accident.
I somehow, for no good reason remember it so clearly. I was in the Cycling league in school then. I had a Hero Hawk, the only one model they had for cycle races at that time. I was not Toure de France stuff, but I was way above the rest in class by a very mentionable margin.
And so one evening, as I was packing up my gear for practise, and at the same time cycling, something hit the cycle hard on the left side. I flew from my seat for like all eternity, but then landed on my bums a few long seconds later. Then in all that shock, My eyelids started to autoshut. I blackened out.
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