Authors: ARUN GUPTA
can fix the systems here in the morning,’ the junior IT guy said.
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘And people will start their Thanksgiving dinner in
the States soon, so call volumes will fall even more.’
Everyone on the desk looked at me and nodded. Secretly they were
thrilled at the easy shift tonight. Bakshi, however, had fallen into silent
contemplation.
‘Sir, you heard what Shyam said. Let’s ask Bangalore. That is our only
option,’ Priyanka said.
Bakshi remained silent and pondered for a few more seconds. I want to
know what he actually thinks in these moments.
‘See, the thing is,’ Bakshi said and paused again,’…aren’t we comparing
apples to oranges here?’
‘What?’ Vroom looked at Bakshi with a disgusted expression.
I wondered what Bakshi was talking about. Was I the apple? Was Delhi
the orange? What fruit was Bangalore?
‘I have an idea. Why don’t we use Bangalore?’ Bakshi said and snapped
his fingers.
‘But that is what Shyam—‘ the junior IT guy began, but Bakshi
interrupted him. Poor junior IT guy, he isn’t familiar with Bakshi’s ways.
‘See, it sounds unusual, but sometimes you have to do out-of-the-box
thinking. Bakshi said and tapped his head in self-administration.
‘Yes sir,’ I said. ‘That is a good idea. We have it all sorted now.’
‘Good,’ the IT guys said and started playing with the computer menus.
Bakshi had a smug smile on his face.
Before the IT guys left they told us the WASG call volume would be
super-light, maybe even less than twenty calls an hour. We were overjoyed,
but kept a straight face before Bakshi.
‘See, problem solved,’ Bakshi said and spread his hands. ‘That is what
I’m here for.’
‘Lucky us, sir,’ Priyanka said.
We thought Bakshi would leave, but he had other plans. ‘Shyam, as you
are free tonight, can you help me with some strategic documents? You know,
it will give you some exposure.’
‘What is it, Sir?’ I said, not happy about sacrificing my night.
‘These are ten copies of the monthly data sheets I just printed out,’
Bakshi said and held up some documents in his right hand. ‘For some reason
the sheets didn’t come in order. It is ten page ones, then page twos and so
on. Can you help fix this?’
‘You didn’t collate them. You can choose the option when you print,’
Vroom said.
‘You can choose to collate?’ Bakshi asked, as if we’d told him about an
option for brain transplants.
‘Ye,’ Vroom said and took some chewing gum from his drawer. He
popped a piece into his mouth. ‘Anyway, it is easier to take one printout and
photocopy the est. comes out stapled too.’
‘I need to upgrade my technical skills. Technology changes so fast,’
Bakshi said. ‘But Shyam, can you help arrange and staple them this time?’
‘Sure,’ I said. As if I had a choice.
Bakshi dumped the sheets on my table and left the room.
Priyanka looked at me with her mouth open.
‘What?’ I said.
‘I can’t believe it,’ She shook her head. ‘Why do you let him do this to
you?’
‘C’mon Priyanka, leave Shyam alone. Bakshi runs his life,’ Vroom said.
‘Exactly. Because he lets him. Why can’t people stand up for
themselves?’
I don’t know why I can’t stand up for myself, but I definitely can’t stand
Priyanka’s rhetorical questions. She doesn’t understand the point, and then
asks the world out aloud.
I tried to ignore her. However, her words had affected me. It was
difficult to focus on the sheets. I stacked the first set and was about to staple
them when Vroom said, He can’t take on Bakshi right now. Not at this time,
Priyanka, they are in the mood to fire people.’
‘Yes thanks Vroom. Can someone explain reality? I need to make a
living. I don’t have Mr Microsoft PowerPoint waiting for me in Seattle,’ I said
and pressed the stapler hard. I missed and staple pin pierced my finger.
‘Oww!’ I screamed loud enough to uproot Military Uncle from his desk.
‘What happened?’ Priyanka said and stood up.
I lifted my finger to show the streaks of blood. A couple of drops split
onto Bakshi’s document.
The girls squealed ‘eews’ in rapid succession.
‘Symbolism, dude. Giving your life blood to this job,’ Vroom said. ‘Can
someone give this guy a band-aid before he makes me throw up?’
‘I have a band-aid,’ Esha said as the girls came up and surrounded e.
Western love to repair an injury—as long as it is not to gross.
‘That’s bad,’ Esha said, taking out a band-aid from her bag. She had like
fifty of them.
‘It’s nothing. Just a minor cut,’ I said. I clenched my teeth hard as it
hurt like hell.
Priyanka took out a few tissues from her bag. She held my finger and
cleaned the blood around it.
‘Ouch!’ I screamed.
‘Oh, the staple is still in there,’ she said. ‘We need forceps. Forceps
anyone?’
Esha had forceps in her handbag, which I thin k she uses to rip her
eyebrows out. Girl’s handbags have enough to make a survival kit for
Antarctica.
Priyanka held the forceps and went to work my finger with a surgeon’s
concentration.
‘Here’s the culprit,’ she said as she pulled out a staple pin drenched in
blood. I swear, ever since I’ve developed a fear of staple—staplophobia, you
can call it.
Priyanka wiped my figure and then struck the band-aid on it. With no
more fun, bloody sights to see, everyone returned to their seats. I went back
to collating sheets. Perhaps my abilities really did lie in mindless labor.
Esha and Radhika began talking about Bakshi.
‘He had no idea what IT was saying,’ Radhika said.
‘Yeah, but did you see his face?’ Esha said. ‘He looked like he was doing
a CBI investigation.’
I looked at Priyanka. The word CBI brought back memories. Even as I
collation Bakshi’s sheets, my mind drifted to Pandara Road.
#
1
0
My Past Dates with
Priyanka—II
Havemore Restaurant, Pandara Road
Nine months before this night
‘Shyam,’ Priyanka said as she tried to push me away. ‘This is not the
place to do these things. This is Pandara Road.’
‘Oh really,’ I said, refusing to move away. We were sitting on a corner
table. A carved wooden screen partially hid us. ‘What’s wrong with Pandara
Road?’ I said, continuing to kiss her.
‘This is a family place,’ she said; she spread a palm on my face and
pushed me back again, firmly this time.
‘So, families get made by doing these things.’
‘Very funny. Anyway, you chose this place. I hope the food is as good as
you said it was.’
‘It’s the best in Delhi,’ I said. We had come to Havemore Restaurant,
one of the half-dozen overpriced but excellent restaurants on Pandara Road.
We had done enough museums. After the Rail Museum, we had gone to the
Planetarium (the dark empty theatre with its romantic possibilities was fun, I
admit), the Natural History Museum, the Doll Museum and the Science
museum. According to Priyanka, museum offered good privacy, great gardens
and cheap canteens.
‘A hundred and thirty bucks for daal’ Priyanka exclaimed as she opened
the menu. Her kohl-lined eyes expression of a stunned cartoon character. It
was embarrassing, especially as the waite.- was already at out table to take
the order.
‘Just order okay?’ I said in a hushed voice.
Priyanka took five more minutes to place the order. Here is how she
decides. Step two: r-sort the cheaper ones based on calories.
‘One naan, no butter. Yellow daal,’ she said as I glared at her.
‘Okay, not yellow, black daal,’ she said. ‘And…’
‘And one shahi paneer,’ I said.
‘You always order the same thing, black daal and shahi paneer,’ she
made a face.
‘Yes, same girl, same food. Why bother experimenting when you already
have the best,’ I said.
‘You are so cute,’ she said. Her smile made her eyes crinkle. She
pinched my cheeks and fed me a little vinegar-onion from the table. Hardly
romantic, but I liked it.
She moved he hand away quickly when she saw a family being led to the
table adjacent to us. The family consisted of a young married couple, their
little daughters and an old lady. The daughters were twins, probably four
years old.
The entire family had morose faces and no one said a word to each
other. I wondered why they had come out when they could be grumpy for
free at home.
‘Anyway,’ Priyanka said, ‘what’s the news?’
‘Not much, Vroom and I are busy with the troubleshooting website.’
‘Cool, how’s it coming along?’
‘Really well. Nothing fancy though: the best websites are simple. Vroom
even checked out many sites meant for mentally handicapped people. He said
if we can model it on such websites. Americans will surely be able to use it.’
‘They’re not
that
dumb,’ Priyanka laughed. ‘Americans invented
computers remembers remember?’
The waiter came with our food.
‘Yeah, American has like ten smart guys. The rest call us at night,’ I
said, as I tore a piece of my naan and dipped it in the daal.
‘I agree the people who call us are pretty thick. I’m like—figure out
where the power button is, hello/’ she said.
She put micro-portions of food on her plate.
‘Eat properly,’ I said. ‘Stop dieting all the time like Esha.’
‘I am not that hungry,’ she said, even as I forcefully gave her human
portions of food.
‘Hey, did I tell you about Esha?’ Don’t tell anyone,’ she said, her voice
dipping, eyebrow dancing.
I shock my head. ‘You love to gossip. Don’t you? Your name should be
Miss Gossip FM 99.5,’ I said.
‘I never gossip,’ she said, waving a fork at me solemnly. ‘Oh my God,
the food is so good here.’
My chest inflated with pride as if he had spent all night cooking the
dishes myself.
‘Of Course you love to gossip. Whenever someone starts with “don’t you
anymore’, that to me is a juicy tit-bit of gossip coming,’ I said.
Priyanka blushed and the tip of the nose turned tomato-red. She looked
cute as hell. I would have kissed her right then, but the grumpy family next to
us was beginning to argue murmurs. I did not want to spoil the somber
ambience for them.
‘Okay so may be I gossip, but only a little bit,’ Priyanka relented. ‘But I
read somewhere, gossip is good for you.
‘Oh really?’ I teased.
‘Yes, it’s a sign you’re interested in people and care for them.’
‘That is so lame,’ I burst out laughing, pointing my spoon at her.
‘Anyway, what about Esha. I know Vroom has the hots for her. But does she
like him/’
‘No Shyam, which is old news. She has rejected Vroom’s proposal
before. The latest is that she had signed up for the Femina Miss India contest.
Last week she is five-five, the minimum is five-six. Radhika saw her cry in the
toilet.’
‘Oh wow! Miss India?’
‘C’mon, she is not that pretty. She should really stop this modeling trip
of hers. God, she is so thin though. Okay, I’m not eating anymore.’ She
pushed her plate away.
‘Stupid, eat. You want to be happy on thin?’ I said, pushing her plate
back towards her.
‘Thin.’
‘Shut up, eat properly. The name of the restaurant should tell you
[something. And s for Esha, well too bad Miss India didn’t work out. However,
trying doesn’t hurt,’ I said.
‘Well, she was crying. So it hurt
her.
After all, she’s come to Delhi
against her parent’s wishes. It’s not easy struggling alone,’ she said.
I nodded.
We finished our meal and the waiter reappeared like a genie to clear