“Sir, Tea.” My peon gently says as he places the cup on my table and dips the T-Bag few times before adding 2 cubes of sugar in it. He looks at me expecting me to order him for something else. I quietly ask him to send Mr. P.K.Pandey, our administrative officer, in my chamber to start work on the pending assignments. As he leaves the chamber, I look at the fancy cup and the T-Bag. I instantly feel the urge to light up a cigarette, more out of habit, but then disappointingly have to curb the desire. This is the beginning of my usual day in office at Lucknow. I don’t really feel glad to drink tea in this fancy cup, neither do I enjoy these T-bags and sugar cubes. Worse, I can’t have a smoke in my office but one thing that I hate the most is the absence of my smoking partners Madu , Nilesh and Arjun. I feel like calling the peon and telling him to get the tea in a glass, remove T-Bags from it, and arrange a road divider for me to sit and smoke there but I keep quiet. Coz I know that even after doing all these things, I won’t have my pals sitting adjacent to me with whom I would share the smoke. I look across the tinted window partition and find my clerical staff starting the day with their usual gestures and one-liners. They play pranks; make fun of each other, sipping tea in glasses which tea vendor brought, finding humor out of the most boring topics. I feel like joining them, being a part of their pranks, pulling their legs, getting my legs pulled, to be a part of employees and not employers. I take my cup of tea in hand and enter their room. They fall silent, someone trying to sit properly, someone clearing objects from his table, someone hiding the small comb in his back pocket with which he was brushing his hair few moments back. They greet me in the most formal manner and I curse myself to play a spoilsport in their prank. I try to join the fun by taking someone’s case. I say to an accountant that there is a rumor that he behaves like a kitten in front of his wife. I look at the staff with a twinkle in my eye and they try to burst out in fake laughter. I crack few ultimate PJs, hoping at least someone will make a mockery of me but all I see is people laughing as if I’d cracked the joke of the millennium. I smile back my way to the chamber with a thought that pals in Bangalore would’ve literally kicked me in ass had I tried to make them laugh on such a PJ.
More than half a year has passed since I bid farewell to Bangalore and came to Lucknow. Much water has flown through river Cauvery in Karnataka and Gomati in Lucknow since I passed my college. Still, every morning the first thought that comes to mind is to yell “ Nilesh, Sutta hai kya tere paas??” Mom insists on me having Omelet with butter toast in breakfast while all I crave for is Ultra Mild Cigarette and full tea at Salim’s (Karnataka Tea House) followed by two banana shakes at Sharon’s which would take care of lunch as well. No rush to capture bathroom before anyone else does, no fighting for BT (Bangalore Times & not Bharat Talwar), no knocking 4-5 rooms to find sutta (Nilu’s, Madu’s, Arjun’s, & Saahil’s), no urgency to reach Java Lab on time which NARENDRA (hissssssss) used to take(confession: his name still instills a fear). I reach office on time day after day adding to my own surprise and stay till every one else has gone.
Several times a day, my subconscious asks me,” Are you really happy with this life? If luxury is something which a man craves for, you do have it in plenty. What is this thing which bothers you day and night?” I take a deep sigh everytime and answer, “ I miss the part of me which is left in Bangalore when I left it. I miss the backbench jokes, I miss nescafe’s Cold Coffee, I miss Sutta and pepsi at Smoker’s. I miss sharon’s Banana Shakes, Salim’s cardamom tea……..in all I miss being me. I miss having real friends and not people who are afraid of me, I want people to take my case and not the sycophants, I want to be with my pals day and night like I used to for more than 4 long years. I want the tension in the last days of months when money used to dry up in account, I want to feel jubilant when the Friday eve approaches, I want the fear of exams, the nervousness of approaching results, I want to be the trouble-creator in my system and not the trouble-shooter. I want to be the one who breaks discipline and not the one who punishes people for doing so.
What’s the point of having money in account when there is no one to spend it on? What’s the purpose of going to a swanky restaurant when you don’t have a company to share its experience?
How a Thousand rupee note rotting in your wallet can be any different from a useless piece of paper when it can’t get you things your heart craves for. Getting a free entry into a disc on weekend in Bangalore was always resulted in a small moral triumph. JKSS(Our Bakarchodi Sessions) with a Hukka resulted in the similar euphoria for me which a Vijay Mallya or a Richard Branson would enjoy after tasting their century old thousand dollar wine. Winning the cricket hostel cup by Ramroders resulted in a victory hug with similar intensity which Dhoni would’ve felt after winning 20-20 world cup.
Where are the Tushys? Where are the Madus? Where are the Nilus? Where are the Golus, the Modis, the Daddus, The Raos, The Arjuns, The BTs….the Demos….the Gentleys…the Kodis….All you assholes, Bloody spread in different parts of the country throughout…..Why is it so tough to get your replacement??? Why can’t I make new pals without comparing them with you??? Why? Fucking Why???…..
And sitting here in my plush office, I miss those times. I want to tell my peon to get me tea from Salim’s in a glass, allow me to have a smoke in office in front of everyone…. let me crack few informal jokes… let me be crude, undisciplined, wild, crazy, blunt, carefree as I was once…let me wear torn jeans and a red tee to the office….let me experience again with few bizarre styles…. Let me be unsophisticated for a while….let me with my friends again for a day………let my find my soul back for an instance……let me be Bangalored again for sometime…….
