The wait for the end... Part 4

The monsoons in Mumbai seemed eternal. There was no stopping. The government officials had already sent out a flood alert and advised people not to go out of home for a few days unless inevitable. But the seasoned Mumbaikars have a unique way of tackling rains. Their policy is simple, “When you can’t beat it, join it.” That is exactly what they do. This rubs on the new-comers as well and within no time are they ready to tackle the next rains.

But as the saying goes, “There are exceptions to every rule”, this one has one too. Neeti! She tried every possible thing on earth, even Yoga, but nothing could calm her when it rained. One day it dawned on her and she gave up trying. But it was too late and she had caught the flu already. Cold, cough, stuffy nose and red eyes, Neeti was full of it. She grew paler by the day and her voice had cracked. She sounded funny. Some of her colleagues called her “Local SRK”.

It was a dull afternoon and the Sun had conveniently hid behind the clouds. Neeti was loading the pictures from her camera onto her desktop machine. She was browsing through the pictures she had clicked. Just then a voice said “This one is very good”. Neeti turned to the familiar voice and smiled at Ramu. He was always in awe of Neeti’s sense of originality, creativity and excellence. “But Ramu they aren’t enough. Our boss thinks otherwise.” Neeti looked at her boss’s cabin and frowned.

“Don’t consider his opinion... He’s a sadist.”
“Unfortunately for me, that sadist decides my promotion and hikes.”
“Hmmm. Why are you loading them on the desktop? You never do that. ”

Neeti giggled. “Ramu my camera is becoming heavier, every passing day and I can’t bear to carry its weight”. There was a laugh in the adjoining cube, which meant an acknowledgement of her small joke.

Ramu grinned. “Neeti I got to go. See you later.”

“Yup! Bye Ramu.”

After four consecutive sneezes, her colleagues requested her to call it a day. Neeti agreed and packed her bag. She slipped in her camera, a pen drive, two books and her cell phone. Within 10 minutes, she was downstairs looking for a rickshaw.

“Auto!!!” she yelled in her cracked voice.

The rickshaw took a turn and came to where she was. She asked him if he would drop her to Bandra. The rider signalled her to sit. She quickly got in and told him exactly where she wanted to go. The rickshaw rider rode like he was on a horseback in a battle. Neeti shut her eyes, sneezing every five minutes.

In thirty minutes Neeti was home. She took in a deep breath and placed her keys on the table and flung her bag on the chair. She threw herself on the bed, bouncing once. She had a lot of time in hand and didn’t know what to do with it. She made a few calls and asked for some medicines and food to be delivered. Within no time she was asleep.

The door bell rang miserably. Neeti jolted and realised she had to get the door. She dragged her feet and opened the door. The delivery boy handed her the parcel, tendered the change and left.
Neeti quickly had the food and drank a lot of hot water to give her sore throat some solace. She looked at the medicine bottles and tablet strips and frowned. After a lot of convincing she tore open the strip to reveal a white tablet. She was all set to have it just when someone banged on the door.

Neeti’s eyes opened wide. She wasn’t expecting anyone. And it wasn’t a bell ring; instead it was a bang on the door. This was reason enough to be suspicious. In Mumbai life is so planned that there is not a minute to let in an unexpected guest. Every minute has a task to be done. Time flies off here like an eye blink.

“Who is it?”

“Open up Neeti.”

Neeti went cold. The blood was drained out of her face. She recognised the voice and opened the door like a robot.

“Aman!” she exclaimed.
“Who else were you expecting?”
“Well, you could have called up before coming.”
“Its’ ok Neeti. I just came to see you. I felt like SEEING you, its’ been long.”
“When did you come to Mumbai?”

“A week back.” The reply was very casual. And it cut through Neeti’s heart in a way that she felt a lump grow in her throat.

Aman pushed his way inside. He sat on the sofa and sighed relief.

“The rains are horrible. I don’t know how people manage all this.”

“Well it depends on person to person. For me, after such a long time, I still haven’t learnt to.” Neeti sounded acrimonious. The words had a pun. And Aman didn’t miss on the hidden meaning. He pursed his lips.

“Neeti I have been missing you crazily. But I have been so tied up with work lately. I don’t have time for anything.”

“But somehow you do have time to spend with your friends.”

“Neeti that is the only thing I do other than work. Come on yaar. Can’t you see me happy for some time?”

“Why have you come here Aman?”
“I thought I told you already Neeti. Let me repeat it for you. I came here to see you.”
“Well, in that case you should leave. You’ve seen me enough now.”
“I fail to understand you.” Aman almost shouted. “When I call you, you are rude. When I don’t call you are hurt. I’ve come here to see you and you are asking me to leave. What do you want me to do?”
“Aman, you know what I want.”
“God! You are impossible. I told you I need time Neeti. I am not sure about anything now.”
“Aman its’ been 2 years now. How much more time do you need?”
“Neeti I need a glass of water now. Nothing else would do. Please fetch me one if you can.”

Neeti paced her steps towards her small kitchen and fetched a glass of water. She was all worked up. There are some situations where God helps you. And there are some where God tests you. But this situation seemed none of the two types. There had to be a new category for this one.

These are like one of those times, where you have been forced to play tennis and you haven’t even held a racket in your hand ever before. The one at other end by default is an ace player and smashes the ball towards you with full vengeance. The ball passes by you leaving you gaping with agony and shame, rocket zooming and questioning your very existence.

Aman called out to Neeti loudly. Her chain of thoughts was suddenly broken and she quickened her steps outside and handed him the glass of water. She knew what she should say and what she would say. The difference in both made her stomach twist and turn.

“Aman we need to talk.” Neeti looked Aman in the eye and said it firmly.

Aman understood the seriousness of her tone and realised that it was no time to beat around the bush. He had to answer her.