Tete-a-tete

First, she buys a ticket for Falaknama Express, AC-2 Tier. Before hopping on it, she buys two fat books- racy, romantic ones, full of sex and masala. As an after thought she also picks up a femina and a Filmfare on which Shahrukh smiles a sweet pappu smile. Just in case, the two fat books aren’t racy enough. She stops to think if  Haldiram Bhujia would be a good option or the plain oily potato chips. Deciding against both, she hops on board. She looks for her seat and finds a pile of ‘Indian railways berth linen’. She smells it and images of big dhobi ghaats  and some nullas flash in front of her eyes. She sets aside those thoughts and begins to arrange the white sheets on the berth. She tucks it well, without a crease anywhere, then, unfolds the blanket and spreads a white towel, on the white pillow. She utters a tiny thank you to Lalu Prasad. The train moves, ready to take her to the Dada- Boudi land.

 

She opens one of the fat books. A murder mystery. Some fool kills his girlfriend and leaves her hanging from the ceiling. Gross. She shuts the book, goes to the other fat one. This one’s too descriptive. She kicks her self for deciding on the books based on size and cover. The cover had a lipstick stained whisky glass..it looked promising. How could she have known?

There was someone sitting opposite her, a young man. Seemed around her age- 25-26 ish. He had been looking at her and her flurry of activities. He was rather amused. She looked at him. He took this chance…

You like making trains cozy….it almost looks like my bedroom.

Sorry? You talking to me?

(How dumb…in a two tier A/c with just two souls facing each other..what was she thinking?)

Well, yes. The only other face that I can see of, is that poker face Shahrukh Khan’s.

Sorry to offend your taste. But I think SRK rocks.

Hmmm. Actually ever since he has been part of Kolkata Knight Riders, I’ve been pretty okay with him too.

You are a KKR fan,eh?

Well,  IPL is all about showing your support for your state.

Yah right, that’s why they are playing in South Africa where devout fans like you can go watch?! IPL in such light is pointless, if you ask me.

I am not.

What?

Nothing. Are you from Kolkata as well?

As well? Am I supposed to assume you are from that city?

Sorry. yes, I am. So, are you too?

Umm…no. I am from Hyderabad. I am visiting my grandparents.

So basically you are from there?

Meaning? What is basically?

Meaning, you are a Bengali, and were born here, have your roots here…

How much you presume! Well, just because I was born there, have my relatives and cousins there doesn’t make me ‘basically’ from Kolkata. I think I am basically from no where.

You are a philosophical kind of person.

Is that a compliment?

I think being philosophical is so pseudo. Philosophical people tend to look at things differently just for the sake of giving it a serious look. Sometimes its so unnecessary.

Dude. You have no idea what you are talking about. I bet you are an engineer.

What?!!

Tell me, are you not?

Yah, I am. And I am sure you were from a flashy college, and you studied commerce or psychology or maybe even literature or some shit.

What nonsense! I was a political science student.

Same shit.

I can’t believe this. You disturb me, strike a forced conversation and are now uttering some irrelevant rubbish. You think this is a movie? Ah, you think this is jab we met?? You think this will turn into a love story of sorts?

Whoa! Calm down. I didn’t  disturb you. You were bored of your books. By the way, how do you manage reading such cheap sleaze?

What do you mean? To each his own, man. I bet you haven’t gone beyond Tinkle.

Mandrake and Phantom. I didn’t like Tinkle. I am into other stuff…

Whatever. You bongs. You think you can make a relative out of every loser you meet?

You just called yourself a loser. Hahaha.

(can’t resist smiling) Ok. Sometimes I talk shit. But really, what do you bongs think? Everyone is your dada/didi'/boudi?

I won’t go that far. I’d rather have you as my girl friend than have a promiscuous love affair with my sister in law.

Such nerve!

Here, take down my number.

And what makes you think I’ll call you.

Bongs are charming. You can’t resist calling me.

Please- a good bong is a dead one. (Furiously punching his number on her mobile).

So, tell me more.

You tell me…tell me, do you like Shutki Maach?

 

(This story has a lot to do with me. It is strange how I categorically state my dislike for bongs, but have my best pals, memories, family friends, and now a husband --  all bongs. So this one’s a confession of sorts- no matter how much I run away from them, I can’t help loving them. May be its a stroke of luck that the bongs I know are all such amazing people? :D

Whatever, here’s wishing all my darling bong bondhus a  Shubho Naboborsho!)