It is 12 am, mid night but the greatest day of my life has already began. However, the moment which would make this day as the greatest is still at least another ten hours away. Of course, the wait is killing me, forget about sleeping, I can’t even close eyes for a second. I keep checking phone then the wall clock, my wrist watch and finally the clock in my laptop but they all move with the same pace as if they all have conspired not to move ahead. Nevertheless, I do sleep that night but in stages because even though my mind isn’t but my body is heavily tired because of the hectic day. Anyway, I still don’t remember how, when and where did I sleep. Each time, I woke up at new place. Finally, in the morning, I find myself in the bathtub.



The first thing that I do after waking each time is to check the time. Perhaps, it is other way round I woke each time to check time and get disappointed every time as there is hours left for me to leave for office. Yes! You read it right. I am excited to go to office. No matter how unbelievable it seemed but that is true. You see, I am not just waiting for this day since weeks, months or years. I had waited for this all my life. The loser’s life that I had been living was to change forever. Anyway, all this time while I am talking to you, I completely forget that last time I had checked time, I was already late and if I continue narrating my story, I might miss my chance to see Reema. Yeah! She is my crush, squeeze, bae, love of life, what else? She is everything that I ever wished for. I secretly call her babe.

‘Panku! Come out fast. The breakfast is ready.’ That’s my sister calling out from the dining table. By the way my name is Pankaj and I prefer being called by that because you seriously can’t get me a good nickname derived from my original name. Pankaj sounds a lot better than Panku, Panks, Panky, etc. Yeah! Better don’t ask me my surname. I hate it anyway.

Of course, it is expected that I should shout at my sister for calling by such stupid name and like every brother and sister we will fight but I can’t do that. I have to be polite and nice to her no matter what and that’s not because I love or respect her but for the fact that I stay in her house. Well, it was not that way till couple of year back when my parents met a road accident and died. ‘Take care of your brother.’ Those were my mother’s last words and with that I lost everything I had with me.

My Didi took me with her and made me stay with her three year old kid in his room. He’s actually cute until he asks for my mobile or laptop to play games and he kind of does that every time, he sees me. Yeah! My laptop has no hidden folders anymore. Evidently, I had thought to move back to my parents’ flat many times but then few months back Jiju asked me for the flat’s keys for some reason and never really gave back. I have even lost hope by now that I am getting it back ever again.

I get ready, pack my stuff and walk to the dining table only to find aloo gobi once again. I hate aloo gobi more than my surname. I put the lid of the vessel back and pretend I got a call from office.

‘Oh yeah! I’ll be there, right now.’ I say on phone and pick my bag to leave.

‘Panku! You’re not going anywhere without having breakfast.’ Didi stops me.

‘Didi! I have to go. There is this urgent call, you saw right.’ I explain to Didi.

‘Yes! I saw you made see how urgently you have to leave.’ Didi smiles. ‘I know you don’t like Aloo Gobi, give me a minute, I will make omelette for you.’

‘Priya! Isn’t it Thursday today? We don’t eat non-veg on Thursday.’ That rude man is my Jiju. After all the sins he did all his life, he expects God to give him heaven for not eating an omelette on Thursday.

‘It’s alright! Panku doesn’t like Aloo Gobi.’

‘I think he should behave like a grown up and stop throwing these unnecessary tantrums.’ Jiju shouts and the regular argument begins.

I have been so used to this melodrama now that I completely ignore and move out of the house. The funny part is that they don’t even notice that the person, they are fighting for, has left. Anyway, that’s their daily routine, they can’t really begin their days without shouting on each other, I have better things to do in.
I walk faster to reach the station but then I realize that I am already late and I may miss the 8:45 am ladies special local train. Well, let me correct, I am not taking the train but that’s Reema’s regular train to office and perhaps, the only time I get to see her. I don’t even know where she lives or works. Since, almost a year now, I see her there standing at the platform no. 2 waiting for the ladies special train to CST. I couldn’t figure out much about her, all I had noticed is that she is shy and loves music because that’s what she does every morning, listens to loud music at full volume. I haven’t seen her talking to anyone ever but seen her swag, a lot. She doesn’t have long hair but just few some inches below her shoulders but she has these different styles of hairdos for almost every day. She sports read streak of hair right through the middle. She is tall and slim with big kohl eyes and bright smile. She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos and you can see it in her eyes. Am I sounding like a stalker? I am not. I just love her, way too much may be.

I rather take an auto if I don’t want to miss the chance to her but then it is easier to spot a leopard than an empty auto in Borivali at the peak hours. But as I said that it is the greatest day of my life, I finally find one at the other end of the road. I call for it and the auto driver looks at me. He slows down and stops at a corner. I rush to the other side of the road ignoring the traffic, locals and autos are worth risking your life in Mumbai. But when I reach there, I see already two elderly persons standing near it. They ask the auto driver to take them to hospital but the auto driver refuses as he says that I called first. He is actually not being honest there but for the fact that at this peak time going to hospital is like a loss as you don’t get any commuters back this early. But I am nice, I ask the auto driver to take them to hospital. I can manage my way to station. The auto driver frowns at me, I know he is abusing me but the elderly aunty smiles at me and says- thank you.

‘Bus dua mein yaad rakhna.’ I reply.

***