Their Story: Episode 3

It’s definitely great to see people connecting themselves to this work of “pure” fiction, but the gentle reminder from the creators of this soap opera is, “Whatever emotions we arouse in your tryst with this work, we do not want you to relate to them personally. It is just fiction and please do not belittle and destroy the creativity of the authors by relating it to you. Good and “original” works deserve credit for their originality and not just an ‘I can relate to it’ understatement. Thank you.”
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The seventeenth hour of the day was very important in Prashant’s well chalked-out schedule.

A school going boy, hardly 18, and the kind who has stayed back, bravely, in an attempt to get through some kind of considered-to-be-the-toughest test in the country, a schedule and its importance was an absolute necessity. He stayed in the conscious state for roughly 7 hours, the remaining 17 were moments of sleep and somnambulating (semi comatose, the term I learnt from my “medical” friend). Either ways, he was thinking of his girl in the blue, the color he wanted to see her in, and accidentally the color of the sea surrounding that island and the lighthouse in it. Of course, that “his” association needs a revised scrutiny. The day started with a nagging father, and his ever so annoying ways, to get his children out of the bed. It was his 14th year straight into this kind of a start and yet he was so pissed of every morning that he took a pee straightaway (please do not attack this statement). Nature calls, brushing and bathing and then a freshly prepared breakfast by a sleepy mother…you wouldn’t call that cool when all this happens at 5 in the morning. School had now achieved that added value in Prashant’s scheme of things, which I still crave for. The paucity of the percentage of the things that actually mattered amongst the ones acquired from the school was a growing concern for Prashant. All that he thought he gained from the school was Karuna. He did not go to the school to learn A.J’s clause structure, he did not go to school to see the spit hanging out of some ugly, badly groomed professor, and he did not go to the school for the not-so-good looking girls. Yeah, some subjects were of some interest to him and it was not just Karuna as the reason for him to spend 6 important hrs of his conscious period. It was not just Karuna.

His was not mad about Karuna, but something definitely kept him in a constant pursuit of her thoughts, in the pursuit of happiness. One of the best parts of school time was the banter with his friends, the eternal and the very fresh, how so ever customary, “bhabhiji” talk. You can never hate these talks, and you cannot prevent yourself from avoiding them. Prashant liked it. In fact, he boasted of this respect. Prashant was an introvert but you cannot help displaying certain emotions and Prashant was vulnerable when it came to Karuna. Not only him, but a bunch of crack heads too, were nuts about her, and there was this “possessive” feeling which was expressed in a few moments of outburst. No one likes to hear anything against “his” girl. But other than that, school was fine, yeah, with the principal turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the “affair” hearsays. The only problem he had was her tough-to-pronounce name. Nevertheless, it was different and I like it still.

The rest of the schedule included the daily brawl with the jug head, Amol, the game of cricket with his cousin Vyom, and some melodramatic and adrenaline injecting soaps. Sleep time in our town means the 21st hour sharp, and he had toiled hard, and had succeeded to some extent, in changing the definition. He has some interest in literature and is considered the best in the trade unanimously by our families, a fact that often does not go down well with me, though (no wonder I find it hard to parse his comments). The time after dinner belonged to his studies and his personal space. The last hour of the day meant bedtime.

Karuna lived in the far end of the city. A family of 4 is the best I can think of, and so did her parents. The dressing sense, the accent, and the bodily features of her family members typified an Oriya family. She was one of the 23 girls that our school had imported from the only girls’ school in our town, a feat that our school consistently achieved and boasted of. That breed of students is no better than a pack of parlor girls with an accent, and the inability to think in English, the language they consider their L1. Karuna was, Prashant says, not one of those, and I have to other option but to agree. I remember some teacher’s statements about math not the girls’ cup of tea, and further it by saying that they find refuge in Biology. Karuna is no different this time. However, she was concerned about her parlor girl image, and no wonder she took private tuitions from A.J. yeah, this is all I can tell you about Prashant’s ladylove, I am not supposed to know more than this and neither are the readers, says Prashant.

The seventeenth hour of the day was when he could just wait and wait for his ladylove. He enjoyed the sightseeing in the meanwhile : a female pig and her teeny-weenies around her, the barking mongrels, the malnutrition affected cow spilling her watery shit all over the street, the gang of “dhakad chhoras” on their dirty bikes, flashing their tobacco stained teeth at every passing girl, the hooligans fighting for a 50p kite, the nearby vendor bargaining for every penny with some lousy “pados waali chaachi” and some infants exchanging some (blue) c.d.’s for a few marbles. Prashant was no macho man to teach the tobacco guys a lesson, nor was he a social reformer to prevent the infants from viewing the pornographic contents, he could not complain about the kite group, he knew Amol would be busy in the same “kifayati” doings, the pigs and dogs and cows…the municipality was more than enough for their state. All he had to worry about was the time when the “expelled faculty of a highly advertised coaching place’s brother” wrapped up the tuitions.

“Hey Prasssshhhhhhhh…you not gone yet?” (Prashant is not actually a trendy name, and he does full justice to the feel of his name)

“No, I thought I would wait for Karuna. You know, she did not come to the school today and I ended up fighting with Pankaj over a silly joke of his. You see, all this time I have been thinking of her and (the island)…Man I seriously needed to see her and I thought she would be here…”

“Hihihi…boy you are darned. She did not come here as well. You better pack your dreams and take the long walk back. Huh…waiting for his Juliet ehh…”

Utkarsh, the only boy in the Biology stream had his uncannily wiry body thrown out of the cave from where Prashant expected his apsara as well, and jeered at Prashant. After a tiring day at the school, this was the least he could have wished for.

“Shut up, you ugly idiot, and just pass me on her number. I need to talk to her. May be, I shall tell her all about my feelings for her. At least, I would not have to stalk her then.”

“2300974. There you go. That is her number, and if you do not connect to it, try 2451043, her neighbours’. And don’t you forget to tell me that you didn’t say anything…oh sorry, couldn’t say anything, just like all the time you have been doing in person…haha…I will talk to her…stop that shit man, you know you are not going to.”

Prashant did not say anything. By the time Utkarsh had finished saying his words, Prashant was half way down the street.