Chapter -2

FINDING THE NEIGHBOUR.

As soon as I arrived home with my mother, my immediate concern was to inquire about the stranger with the security guard. Unfortunately, despite my detailed description of him, the security guard was unable to provide any information. I persisted, emphasizing that he had a wrinkled face, stood about 5 feet 8 inches tall, and was present earlier in the morning.

However, my eagerness and rapid-fire questions were met with the security guard's slow, disinterested replies. He looked at me almost in slow motion, taking a thoughtful second before responding,

"Sahab, there are about 200 flats in this apartment" (heaving and puffing). "And more than 50 old, wrinkled-faced uncles" (breathing hard), he continued, "How would I know which one is yours?"

The middle-aged man, around 50 years old, had extra layers on his tummy, and he would gasp after every three words. Observing his condition, I reassured him, saying,

 "Bro, chill. Don't take stress”.

Out of concern I further asked him “Dada are you ok?”  he again glanced at me slowly took a thoughtful second and replied “haan sahab  I am fine and that’s why I am on duty.” I replied,

“I am sorry but looking at your condition I can’t help but to tell you that you should be in hospital.”

And I got going. Sometimes I feel that the biggest curse on anyone could be getting stuck on a job that’s not meant for them.

Anyway, that evening, I enjoyed some meaningful moments with my mother. Typically, I don't bother celebrating my birthday because I often ponder: what's so special about the day you're born? Perhaps humans recognize how detrimental we are to the ecosystem. If you consider it, even the smallest actions cause harm to someone. We erect towering buildings by cutting down trees, drive vehicles that pollute the environment, and spend our lives competing with each other. When we win, we hurt those who lost against us, and when we lose, we end up hurting our loved ones who had high expectations. I'm not even delving into the confusion and heartbreak that comes from hurting the opposite sex, and vice versa—that's a whole different debate.

In essence, we are a dangerous species, and that's why we cry when we are born, realizing that we are destined to suffer or make someone suffer. Amidst all this chaos, one woman takes on the effort and pain for nine months to welcome you into this chaotic world, hoping that her child won't endure what others have. It's that hope we celebrate.

A few days had passed; I found myself engrossed in the hustle of life. My mother had returned to our native town, and I had plunged back into my challenging yet fascinating work as an aspiring screenplay writer. Meeting various producers throughout the day had become a routine. Some meetings proved to be worth the time and energy, while others left me frustrated and dejected. Amidst these highs and lows, one persistent thought lingered: "Who was that neighbour?"

The two flats adjacent to mine remained locked, and the other residents of the building seemed disinterested in even exchanging a customary smile. Everyone appeared absorbed in their own worlds or rushed, making it impossible for me to gather any information about the mysterious wrinkled face angel.

In the midst of July's monsoon, Mumbai's streets reverberated with the symphony of honking horns and raindrops drumming against the pavement. The usual chaos of traffic jams and waterlogged roads painted the cityscape. On a particularly damp Monday, I decided to seek refuge in a nearby bar-restaurant for a couple of drinks. In a city where everything comes with a hefty price tag, these local haunts are the haven for frustrated and aspiring artists like myself, offering respite with their reasonable prices.

Opting for solitude, I selected a table tucked away in a quiet corner and ordered my go-to elixir, old monk rum. As the waiter presented my drink, the initial sip marked the commencement of a rendezvous with my own thoughts. A torrent of ideas flooded my mind—characters materialized, a man with a pistol, a woman navigating the streets on a motorbike, and a hero astride a horse. Amidst this mental tapestry, a voice interrupted my solitary musings, inquiring,

"Can I join you, if you don't mind?"

I looked up, and there was a guy with an overfriendly smile, seeking my approval to share the table. My eyes scanned the place, and unfortunately, it was jam-packed. Unwillingly, I had to oblige him. The man kept smiling at me every time our eyes met, and I awkwardly smiled back. I knew a few drinks down the line; he would definitely strike up a conversation, which was the last thing I wanted. So, I pretended to be busy watching something on my phone with earphones plugged in. In that close proximity, it was unlikely to avoid him. Not that I am a snob, nor am I an anti-social individual, but there are days when you keep it to yourself. And there he broke the silence,

“Bro, my name is Ajit.”

I took off my earphones and introduced myself,

“Hi, I am Prashant.”

I assumed the guy would take some time to warm up before starting a conversation. I thought that by the time he tried to pry into my personal space, I'd be out of there. However, contrary to my plan, before I could even process my thoughts and put my plan into action, he initiated the discussion in the blink of an eye.

He remarked, "I've seen you somewhere before." I countered, "It's not possible." Undeterred, he insisted, "No, I know you. I've seen your Instagram reels." I was taken aback, wondering how someone with just 89 followers could be recognized by a stranger. He swiftly flashed his camera and played one of my reel performances, asserting, "I am following you." Unable to ignore my only admirer, I smiled and inquired,

 Where are you from?"

He replied that he hails from Odisha and works as a news reporter. Thus, we began exchanging ideas and enjoying each other's company.

One drink led to another, and after exchanging numbers, we found ourselves both quite inebriated by the time we finished our drinks. Ajit exceeded his limit, rendering him completely senseless. I arranged an auto rickshaw for him and decided to settle his bill. However, when I reached for my wallet, it was nowhere to be found. Despite being a regular patron at the bar, the manager behind the counter, evidently on his first day, adamantly refused my request for credit, leading to a rather embarrassing situation. Despite my assurances that I would settle the bill the next day, the manager remained unyielding. The escalating verbal exchange over the bill attracted numerous onlookers, making me wish I could disappear in the rain to escape their judgmental gaze. Suddenly, a decisive voice interrupted the negotiations, asking,

“What's the issue?"

The manager reluctantly explained the situation to this person, and as I turned to look, I was astonished to find that he was none other than the wrinkled face uncle I had been searching for.

TO BE CONTINUED…