It was a dark night, clouds were all over the sky, stars and the moon, humidity was evident in the atmosphere, the fan wasn’t doing enough; I was enveloped in puddle of my own sweat and wasn’t able to sleep. I took my floaters and went out for a walk around Andheri. At around 2:30 in the night Mumbai wasn’t much different from Ahmedabad, streets here were too ruled by the barking dogs. Every passing car was chased by them, even here. Only humans diverge from place to place, not animals. All of a sudden a car came from nowhere at a brisk speed, applied sudden break, lost control and I was on the floor. As the door got opened, I heard some song played at very loud volume. That very moment, some girl came out of the car and started to shout in some weird Marathi language, she felt like an alien at that very moment to me.
“Can you please repeat in Hindi or English?” I naively said cleaning the dust on me as she finished her shouting; I was still on the floors, she broke into smile giving me the hand to stand up.
“Are you okay?” She was fumbling in her words, I felt she was drunk. I gazed at here, she looked good. Nice oval shaped face suited her personality totally. She was of typical Indian complexion, not fair but definitely not a black, somewhere in between. Her features were very attractive though, she had a very peculiar nose, it was little longer than normal. Her shiny blue sleeveless evening gown made it clear; she was coming of a party. And one look at her brown knife-like eyes, made me clear, she was drunk.
“Okay? Almost..!! , one should not drive being dunk, it’s dangerous, at least for nocturnal people like me.” I smiled.
“I don’t have a driver.” She said getting back to her car.
“May I drive you home? At least some else will be saved, I wasn’t the lucky one still someone else might be.” We guys can flirt in any dam screwed up situation we are.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes madamji.” I said taking keys from her.
As we were driving for Ville-Parle as per her instructions, she was enjoying nice wind flowing by the sea-side from the window of her seat, her hair were floundering with the wind, she was enjoying every bit of it and it was evident on her face.
“Hi, I am Advik, I am a Chartered Accountant.” I finally broke the silence after a while
“Hi, I am Zuzu.” She said shaking my hand.
“Zuzu? I thought only we people had weird names.”
“It’s my pet name; people call me by that name only. Here we are, just take left.”
“Thank you.” She said as I handed her the keys of her car.
“How will you go home now? It’s already late.” She was founding it difficult to speak also, she was fully intoxicated.
“It’s okay, I will manage.”
“What manage, take my car, I will pick it tomorrow from your place.”
“Arey no re, why are you bothering, I will manage.”
“C’mon, don’t be formal. Text me your address and take the car, make it fast. I am not even able to stand on my feet now, need to go to bed quickly.”
I gave her address of the guest house, took the keys of a car and left the place. As I was driving back, saw a diary on the dashboard. “Sharvari Agrawal” was written using some glitter pen on it.
Log to bahut hai aas paas, par hai to bus mein aur meri tanhayee,
Harek manzar pe dastoor ban ke chhayi,
Na jane tha wo kaunsa raz, jo apne aap se bhi na keh payi,
Jitni bar kehne ko alfaz dhundhe ajib si mayusi payi,
Dhundhne chali thi is duniya ko, khud apne aap ko usme dhundh na payi,
Sare aasman pe pank phadphade ke arman the, apna gharonda tak par na kar payi,
Bus ek humsafar ki thi talash, use bhi kahan dhoondh payi,
Mere dimag pe mayusi ban ke hai chhayi,
Mein aur meri tanhayee, Bus Main aur meri Tanhayee.
“I don’t think one should read personal diary of someone, especially some girl.” I was busy flipping through the pages of the diary as Sharvari made her way into the room. She looked different today, in her light yellow top and a denim, glares on, hair tied down in pony style.
“Oh… Sharvari, you write good poetry; please come in.” I welcomed her in deliberately checking for some of my clothes’ visible presence over there.
“Zuzu, people call me Zuzu. And thanks for the compliment.” She had a touch of superciliousness in her voice.
“Do you people have tea in the morning here; we usually do have it in Ahmedabad.”
“Okay, how about barista; It’s very much nearby.”
“Barista..!! Just for a cup of tea! Even Kitliwala next to this building makes a fantastic tea.”
“Eeeeeee… Kitli must be unhygienic.” She said making a face.
“I drink it every day, and here I am in front of you totally fit and fine. You should try it someday, it’s nice. C’mon.” I was forcing her like she has been my friend for ages.
“You are paying my medical bills, if I fall ill after this tea.”
“For sure”
“Okay baba. Lets got to your Kitli.” She artificially capitulated.
“So, what do you do except partying and getting drunk?” I said handing over the cup of tea
“Something except partying and getting drunk, difficult to say exactly” She said with a round of laughter.
“I am in the Final Semester of MBA (Finance), doing it from Narsinh Mohanji.” She said taking a sip of hot tea.
“How’s it?”
“Not Bad.” The touch of arrogance was still there, I guess it comes embedded with the touch of beauty.
“Not bad?”
“Means nice; by the way you are a CA right, if I remember correctly from last night.”
“Bravo, Bravo. Yes, I am from Ahmedabad, here for an important work.”
“So, are you going to be roving around the street tonight as well?”
“No idea.”
“If yes, then why don’t you join me for the party, at least you will be happy to be on the floor there.”
“Oh yes, I always love to be on floor, cheers.” I said extending my cup of tea towards her
“Cheers.” She also extended her cup and tea party was on.
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