A dream dreamt of....Part 3

Now, a bit about me. I’m Bengali, born and brought up in Calcutta, sensitive from birth, and practical. I am that sort of guy who likes to tread the middle of the road, like midnight standing on the edge of time, too afraid to place a foot on either side. I like to maintain an equilibrium in everything, which means I hate any kind of excesses. I like reading, playing the guitar and singing. Not a very interesting company, because I don’t crack the best of jokes or reply to something very fast and witty. I am obsessed about the idea of being in love, when it happens, I’ll make it perfect.

Otherwise there is nothing much to know about me, as I mentioned before(something that Charulata wouldn’t believe no matter how much I tried to convince her)






The first friend I made in college was Rachit, not only because we shared the Bong connection but also because we shared the same passion, music. When I started hanging with him I realized that he was the most eloquent person I had ever heard, and also had the best knowledge of history that I had ever seen. He liked the finer things in life, he tried to sniff wine and tell its make and date, but since he was so young and drinking for so little time it didn’t work out everytime. But he had an extensive knowledge of cigars and spirits from all over the world. Also, he took interest in learning up about uncanny subjects which most people wouldn’t bother with, like the Monster of Loch Ness or the Abominable Snowman(the Yeti), secret brotherhoods planning to conquer the world and establish a new world order, the Free Masons, the Vatican Secret Archives, the Doomsday Theory and the emergence of The One(almost every religion mentioned him/her and the Hindus called him Kalki, the tenth avatar of Lord Vishnu). All in all, completely unlike me Rachit was an extremely interesting guy to hang out with, you could learn about so many things you had never even imagined existed before!

And when it came to music, you just had to utter the letter ‘M’ infront of him and he went into a frenzy asking me about the songs I had heard (which I admit got pretty irritating at times). But he was one genuine music lover if I’d ever seen one.

But hanging with Rachit was not possible at all times, firstly because he was so popular, everyone hung with him. And the fact that I didn’t like being overshadowed much also helped, and walking next to Rachit was like walking next to the Empire State Building(not because he was tall, which he was). Also I kind of detested some of his habits, he was a compulsive flirt and tried to get every decent looking girl he’d see in bed. Also at times he turned very strange, from a smiling face you could actually see cold anger burn in his eyes for apparently no reason. He was eccentric, that much I understood, but sometimes he went beyond his limits.

A bus is winding through a desolate highway, it’s high noon, things outside seemed to be steaming in the heat. The bus passes by small dhabas on the sides of the road, it wouldn’t stop there, why should it if some dhaba was paying them five hundred each trip just to bring customers to their dhaba. There’s a boy sitting by the window, and that is the only place he would sit in, he would rather take another bus than travel in a non-window seat. He had to push, shove and even curse at a few people before he finally got what he desired. He is now listening to music, his earphones blocking the sounds emanating from within the bus, children crying, women shouting, men snoring and goats bleating( Yes, there were goats too). His friend who was sitting next to him was staring at the back of the seat before him with a stony eyed concentration. Neeraj and Aniruddha, brothers from different mothers. The scenery outside was fast changing, small shrubs on the side of the road to empty fields, small settlements and mandirs in the middle of nowhere. The wind outside brought dust in but Neeraj didn’t really give a damn, he had his shades on. He couldn’t be least bothered about what was happening around him as long as he had the wind in his face and the music in his ears Aniruddha on the other hand was getting royally bored, he wasn’t much of a conversationist, so he couldn’t strike up a conversation with some of the other passengers, and he had realized long time back that there were no good looking girls on the bus, so now he was trying to be friends with the back of the seat.

“Hello”, he said in his mind.
“Hi”, whispered the seat, “Don’t let anyone hear me”
“I promise I won’t”
“You are beautiful”, he said
“So are you, very pretty”

Aniruddha kept his promise, and told noone. Neeraj gave him some odd stares when he saw him eating up the seat with his eyes but that was it.