A RANDOM WALK

A random walk

An abrupt thud woke him up. Something had hit the glass panes of his window. Nikhil reluctantly pulled open one of his eyes. The table clock was showing fifteen past three, contrary to the brightness his eyes was trying to adjust to. He looked harder. The thin yellow second’s hand had stopped moving.

“Why the hell did I wake up?” He contemplated, taking a turn away from the light coming through the translucent window.

“Must have been the bloody paperwaala”. He tried to sleep but could not, partly because of the light, but prominently because of the irritation in his right foot caused by the new leather shoe he was still wearing. With a dejected sigh he sat up and looked at the motionless clock wryly. He did not make any further attempt to know the time. Perhaps, he just did not want to know the time. He finally dragged himself out of his bed, thrust his leg so that the shoe flew to another corner of the already chaotic room and limped towards the wash basin.

As he washed his face he tried to recall when and how he had fallen asleep the last night.

It was Friday, and Lehman Brothers (a reputed investment bank), where he had been working since past one and half years had thrown a party, which they often did to make a futile effort to appease the generally pissed off employees. He had been to numerous such parties before, all of them ended inevitably after midnight and then they all went back home stuffed with free food and alcohol. He was exhausted after having worked hard for two days and a nearly sleepless night, and hence decided to skip the dinner. He went straight to home, the cozy bed was invitation enough to fling himself on it without bothering to undress, and started snoring, needless to say, within seconds.

He went to the balcony to have a look at the news paper.
A head line with three continuous letters in bold effortlessly caught his attention.

“Another IIT student commits suicide”
The news read.
His face twitched.
“Fuck” he muttered and scanned the news.
A third year electrical engineering student had committed suicide by jumping of the main building. The reason had been extra academic pressure. The dean had made a promise to look after the matter but had also suggested that a certain standard was necessary to maintain the brand name of the institute, which on any condition could not be compromised.
Nikhil became reminiscent. He himself was an IIT Delhi graduate, had passed the institute just one and half years back and was well aware how screwing the IIT system could become if you meddled with it. He felt sorry for the boy.
Then he realized that his own life had become no less a mess than the boy’s might have been.
“Working late in the night, smoking dozen cigarette’s a day, listening to boss’s non stop non-sense, busting your ass off with the least clue of why you are working apart from a handsome salary which could buy you Italian or Chinese but not a descent home cooked Indian meal, what your long term goals are.. life was no better than shit.” He had crumbled the edges of the paper while thinking all this. Looking down the balcony, for a moment or two, he toyed with the idea of finishing it all in one go.

“God! What am I thinking?”

He shook his head and then decided to go for a random walk.

Heera Nandani is the perfect place to live in for all those people who believe in man and his power more than nature and her beauty. Concrete cast into grand structures with ornate façades resting on thick stocky pillars create a majestic arena, most of buildings are either offices of multinational companies, or shopping malls or are apartments (with surprisingly small flats). The area, naturally being a nearly flawless abode for the emulous Gen-Y, is one of the costliest places to live in India.

Nikhil recalled that he had loved the place when he had first arrived here, but never again did he get time to admire it. He treaded lazily examining his locality. Few people would wake up at this hour, and he could only see some doodhwaalas and paperwaalas hurrying on their Adam aged bicycles. Some were out for the more conventional morning walk, as Nikhil gathered from their shorts and joggers contrary to his jeans and sandals.

He took a left from the next square.

D’Mart .. HSBC ATM.. Crossword.

“Crossword.. can’t remember when I read the last book”, he thought. Nikhil used to vouch on books when he was in college. But he had not paid a visit to Crossword since ages.

A reverberating black Pulsar caught his attention. His head moved in an arc following the bike which seated a couple, the girl’s hands curled around the guy. They looked very happy.

Nikhil sighed. He took out a cigarette, ignited it and took a couple of deep puffs.

A young girl suddenly passed by him. She was jogging. After she had moved a few yards ahead of Nikhil, she stumbled over a stone, her ankle twisted and she fell down. Nikhil quickly went near her but before he could lend his hand for help, she got up on her own examining her elbow which was slightly bruised.

A missed opportunity had left him a slightly bitter. Perhaps, that was the reason why he deliberately did not put off his cigarette, even though the girl was graceful and elegant enough to command a natural respect and modesty. She was wearing a white T-shirt and navy blue shorts which left her legs bare revealing her shapely calf muscles. She had walnut coloured skin and her thick hair was tied neatly into a pony tail. Tiny droplets of sweat on her forehead and nose glistened in the early morning yellow light. Her personality exuded a rare aplomb and poise.

“Are you all right?” Nikhil inquired.
“What do you think?” She replied, beating the dust out her shirt.
“Your elbow is injured.”
“Don't worry about it. It's just a small bruise. Thank you for your help.”
Which male, that too a bachelor, would hesitate from offering help to an attractive lady? He thought.
“But I haven't helped you.”
“You at least came for help.”
“Hmmm... do you go for a jog everyday.” Nikhil asked with subtle emphasis on 'everyday' after they had taken couple of steps.
She sniggered.
“No, I don't go for a jog everyday. But I try to. It's not easy though, I can assure you.”
“I would be the last person to disagree with you. I mean, look at me. My life so botched. Don't have time to arrange my room, leave alone go for a jog.” He said taking another puff and then exhaling through his nostrils forming two thin clouds of grey smoke.
“What is the problem?”
“Jeopardies of the job”, he smiled a little, wryly.
“Actually I work in Lehman Brothers, and you must be aware how screwing life in an investment bank can be. So, let's say, the hectic professional life is taking its toll. And plus that motherfucker Srinath.”
Her countenance changed which vividly suggested that she was displeased.
“I am sorry for the use of the word.” Nikhil apologized, drooping his head.
“Who is Srinath?”
“My boss. He is a bugger. Just keeps coming at me, never allowing a second to breathe.”
“But that is his job. Isn't it?”
“Now you don't start taking his side. O.K.”
Another puff.
“O.K.”
“Let us keep my disarrayed life aside. Tell me, what do you do?”
“I work in Kingfisher Airlines.”
“Air hostess?”
“No,no.. marketing division.”
“Ohh..your life must be busy too.” He said with a slight surprise.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
They walked a couple of yards and nobody spoke. She was limping slightly. Nikhil took another puff.
“Why do you smoke?” She asked, pointing towards the cigarette.
He snickered.
“Hmmm... let me put it this way. When you feel the heat, you just let the smoke out.”
She did not like the answer.
“I think, I would disagree. In my opinion, it's not because you let the smoke out that you stop feeling the heat. It is because you are converting your own body into a kiln, so you don't feel the heat inside you. All I want to say is that you are ruining your own body.”
“Who cares? After all it's my life.”
“No, it is NOT your life.” Her voice became firm and slightly louder.
“What do you mean?” He asked, startled at her sudden outburst.
“I mean, it is not your life completely. Everyone who loves you, cares for you, every well wisher, every friend, every relative owns a part of your life. You do not have complete right over your life as you are responsible to them as well.”
A frown on Nikhil's face clearly portrayed his confusion.
“Well, I will explain it in your language. Assume that there a company and you are the owner of that company. Even though you have the right to take all the major decisions for the company, yet you can not ignore the shareholders, who own a part of that company. Your decisions, morally, have to take care of their interests. Your life is similar. You can take all the major decisions of your life, but you can not take such decisions which ruin your life or you can not just end your life as you are you are responsible to people who own a part of your life. Do you get my point now?”

That was too much for Nikhil.
“Mind blowing”, he thought.
He was highly impressed by this girl, almost completely bowled over.
“Wow!!” he said with disbelief.
“I have never thought on those lines.”
He threw his cigarette. She smiled.
“But the problem remains..hectic life, unorganised routine.”
“Come on, we are into this professional corporate world because we were thought of as smart persons. If we don't find an optimal solution to balance our private and professional life, who would?”
He was even more impressed.
“You are right.”
“Here comes my apartment”, she said.
“Ohoooo” he said in a muffled voice.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, it's just that we have been talking for so long and we don't even know each other's names.”
“Yeah right... I am Kavita.”
“I am Nikhil.”
They smiled at each other and shook hands.
“Nice meetin....” he suddenly noticed something in her hand
which forced him to take a pause.
It was a wedding ring.
“You are married??” He blurted out.
She sniggered and nodded her head.
“Not only that, I have a one year old kid too. Remember I had told you, it's not easy to go for a jog everyday. And one more thing. Srinath is my husband.”