Something of Myself
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
calcutta - june 1995. he's been waiting for the bus to come for half an hour now. the number 3C/1 seems like an illusion. this is it. this is the beginning of my story. he is my main character. he is waiting for the bus. you have to wait too...
G: "when you come back get some dhup kathis for pujo. OK? dont forget, today is thursday!"
H: "yeah OK! anything else your highness requires?"
G: "no. what can i want out of life at this stage? i have lost -" THUD.
and so he came out of his house wearing a blue wrangler jeans. waist 28. he has always been a lean fellow. he took out his ciggarette packet from his shirt pocket and lit one. "aah! what a hell this world is! i mean look at that girl who is walking just ahead of that bald motherfucker. i mean this girl is about 19-20 years of age and look at what she is wearing - string top and a short skirt! if she gets raped tomorrow there will be such a bloody commotion."
hobe na keno? this is calcutta. 1995. a very hot day in june.
S: "excuse me, do you have a lighter on you?"
H: "yeah sure."
he cups his left hand and lights the ciggarette for the young man. about 25 perhaps. men are so better than woman sometimes, he thinks.
S: "thank you dada. which bus are you waiting for?"
H: "3C/1"
S: "where are you heading for?"
H: "bhowanipore."
the man seems to be intelligent to as he understands that "he" is not interested in talking much to him. his curt replies implies that. he has always been like that. he never says anything blatantly until the situation demands that of him.
"koi humdum naa raha, koi sahara na raha" - he starts humming in his innermost private regions of his mind. a faint smile appears on his face. the heat is too much to bear. he thinks of buying a can of coke. the bus is not going to show up anyways. he goes to the vendor opposite the bus stop and asks for a can of coke. he doesnt like anything else but the can of coke. there is one exception though: bijoligrill's ice-cream soda.
V: "10rupees"
H: "just a second"
he searches for some loose change in his trouser pockets. no luck. he realises that he doesnt have any money on him. no coke. no ice-cream soda. no bus. and certainly no going back home to get the wallet. "but how the fuck will you buy the dhoop kathi? mum will shout the hell out of you if you dont get it. oh dear god, i hate this place."
he starts walking back towards his house. its not very far anyways - about 50 yards from where he is standing right now. he asks the durwan to lend him 20 rupees. the durwan obliges with a wicked smile that means - "you are the sahib and you are asking money from me? HA HA HA" he ignores it - decides to walk this time. the bus is a living nightmare he realises.
G: "when you come back get some dhup kathis for pujo. OK? dont forget, today is thursday!"
H: "yeah OK! anything else your highness requires?"
G: "no. what can i want out of life at this stage? i have lost -" THUD.
and so he came out of his house wearing a blue wrangler jeans. waist 28. he has always been a lean fellow. he took out his ciggarette packet from his shirt pocket and lit one. "aah! what a hell this world is! i mean look at that girl who is walking just ahead of that bald motherfucker. i mean this girl is about 19-20 years of age and look at what she is wearing - string top and a short skirt! if she gets raped tomorrow there will be such a bloody commotion."
hobe na keno? this is calcutta. 1995. a very hot day in june.
S: "excuse me, do you have a lighter on you?"
H: "yeah sure."
he cups his left hand and lights the ciggarette for the young man. about 25 perhaps. men are so better than woman sometimes, he thinks.
S: "thank you dada. which bus are you waiting for?"
H: "3C/1"
S: "where are you heading for?"
H: "bhowanipore."
the man seems to be intelligent to as he understands that "he" is not interested in talking much to him. his curt replies implies that. he has always been like that. he never says anything blatantly until the situation demands that of him.
"koi humdum naa raha, koi sahara na raha" - he starts humming in his innermost private regions of his mind. a faint smile appears on his face. the heat is too much to bear. he thinks of buying a can of coke. the bus is not going to show up anyways. he goes to the vendor opposite the bus stop and asks for a can of coke. he doesnt like anything else but the can of coke. there is one exception though: bijoligrill's ice-cream soda.
V: "10rupees"
H: "just a second"
he searches for some loose change in his trouser pockets. no luck. he realises that he doesnt have any money on him. no coke. no ice-cream soda. no bus. and certainly no going back home to get the wallet. "but how the fuck will you buy the dhoop kathi? mum will shout the hell out of you if you dont get it. oh dear god, i hate this place."
he starts walking back towards his house. its not very far anyways - about 50 yards from where he is standing right now. he asks the durwan to lend him 20 rupees. the durwan obliges with a wicked smile that means - "you are the sahib and you are asking money from me? HA HA HA" he ignores it - decides to walk this time. the bus is a living nightmare he realises.
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