Pool, Red Label and bandh...

It was one of those days, or in fact nights at office. Nothing I did seemed going my way. A lot of people who know me the slightest bit know how bad I am at controlling emotions. Every question irked me, every single voice irritated me. It got worst everytime the boss yelled, "score". I am sure the boys were trying their bit but it was a Saturday and most of the businesses were shut. I have never been very fond of working on Saturdays.

I could not wait for the shift to get over so when the clock struck 8, Sunday morning, I hurried out of the office.

"Nabin, wait I am also coming", a friend shouted as I got stranded in the staircase.
"Lets go and play some pool", he said as we met.
I couldn't resist the urge to strike the cue ball after such a long time. So, there we were in the pool house at 8 in the morning with a bottle of Red Label abd few packets of Lays and Kurkure. There could not have been a better start to a Sunday, I thought so.

We started with a frame of snooker and it suddenly got bored because we were simply not being able to pot the balls. Our skills had developed rusts due to lack of practice. We decided to abandon the frame and moved to pool where we fared a lot better. Was it the lesser distance between the balls and the pockets or was it the ever growing effects of whiskey? Or both?

Soon the pool house was filled with students from a nearby college. For some, it was a dating spot while for others it was a refuge from their boring lectures. We noticed that a couple of guys were huddled around a nearby corner rolling joints. We had almost drowned a bottle of Red Label so we didn't hesitate to ask for few puffs. After a bottle of Red Label and a couple of rolls of joints between us, we were broke and ready to leave.

He decided to drop me to home but when we were approaching Kalimati, we realized that there was a huge commotion and people had gathered out on the streets and were burning tires and effigies and yelling slogans. Had it been any normal day, we would have just turn around and taken a different route. But today was different. There were these two guys high on whiskey and joints, full of confidence that they were smart and gutsy enough to ride through the mob and reach their destination. Did we really stand a chance?

It was a matter of few seconds before a group of kids stood in front of us holding fist-sized rocks in their hands ready to hurl them at anyone who defied them. Kids, who wouldn't be able to spell 'politics' correctly. They were there because the schools had simply shut down because of the bandhs. They were happy just to be there because that gave them a chance to come out and play in the open. It also gave them immense power and for once they could have adults obeying their commands.

Within seconds, they were accompanied by a few 'leaders' who once in a while were threatening to burn the bike. I got off the bike and asked my friend to drag it to the side while I talked to the 'leader'. My friend was also smart enough to switch off the bike and keep the key in his pocket before someone else from the mob could do the honours.

"Jhyaap ho?", someone from the mob asked. Are you drunk?
"Ali ali good ma", I replied. I am on a high.

I don't know what did the trick but they let us return back without much of a hassle.

I don't remember where exactly he dropped me but I remember telling him, "You can drop me here. I'll take an auto or a micro."

"Are you sure?", he asked.
"Yea. You bet.", I replied. I then hopped on an auto, the ones that run on LPG gas.

I woke up with the scorching mid-day sun striking my face, my leather sandals stuck to my feet and my black jeans pants hot enough to cook an omelette on its surface. I was being dry roasted due to the whole-steel frame of the auto and also realized that I was the only passenger. First thing I did was shift to the interior of the auto so that the sun's scorching rays didn't strike my face directly.

Suddenly, the driver asked, "Utrine haina?" "Yahan bhanda agadi jadaina", he continued. Don't you wanna get down? This is the last stop.

"Kahan ho yo?", I managed to ask him. Where are we?

"Lagankhel", he replied.

I hopped down the auto with squinted eyes giving them some time to get acquainted to the sudden glare of the sun.

I went to the driver and asked him, "kati?" How much?

"Terha rupiya", he replied. Thirteen rupees.

I emptied all the four pockets of my pants and collected a couple of Re. 1 coins and another couple of Rs. 2 coins amounting to six rupees, which I gracefully handed over to the driver.

"Kasto manchhe raichha, diunsai matera...", he was murmuring, as I continued to walk away.