~A Merc Ride~

Cat is over and Ahuja has immersed himself in Vodka.Smirnoff,Neat with 3 ice cubes is his diet on weekends.And for me his bakwaas dotcom and management ideas.

Saturday,11:00 P.M., 3 Large gin,7 Vodka shots.

"I am developing a website www.ebra.com. Online bra bechenge, Fir tera bhai mercedes, S-Class, S-CLASS, me vodka piyega." - Ahuja said while making rounds of smoke puffs in the air. "Feedback?"

"Bhai,Am not the venture capatalist this time.Ghar pe kya bolenge"- me while thinking why not SunJava checks character certificate of such guys before giving Java certifications.

Ahuja - "I know what certification shit thing you must be thinking of, we ll see who rides the mercerdes S - Class, S - C.L.A.S.S. before. Ye bata 6th standard me second terminals me first kon aya tha?".

Me - "We ll See".

Lights Switched Off.

I think Vodka and dream of riding mercedes share same portion in Ahuja's Brain.They kick off at the same time.Anyways Ahuja had second rank in 6th standard.

Sunday. 3:00 P.M.

To escape from stupid dotcom ideas i thought, taking shelter in a book store was a safe bet.And while I was browsing through the fiction section, i felt a touch on my left leg and heard "Excuse Me". I swear to my second hand bike i had never,never felt such a soft touch in my whole life. "Sure"- was my prompt reply.
I turned around my back to see the host. A lady was reading snippets from Salman Rushdie while rack browsing.And as i was staring,staring her ,her book fell off her hands. As she moved to pick up the book her look converged in to my ever staring eyes, she said - " I think you have not excused me yet".

In the reponse i was ready with my cheap 100 watt smile and red color on my cheeks.
I don't know how that 100 watt smile lead us to a coffee shop and movie hall. While waiting for her car, she said i think your bike should take a break today. Let her rest and me do the rest for you.
I was still and still.I bet i never gave that much time to even an IIT question. Meanwhile a soft engine voice melted in my ear.i heard it right and clear.Merc-S CLASS it was. And i had no doubts in my mind now.Ahuja was about to loose a bet and his arrogance to me.Woh.
34.54 seconds more and i was inside her, the car.My butts had never touched a better leather ever.First time in my life i looked smart in the side mirror.The noice of the engine was a voice, the seat's roughness was the girls hands,the smell was a liquor for me.I had never seen my body melting so fast and steady.It seeemed Virgin Mary was taking me to heaven to clean all my sins.
Now i knew why Ahuja calls its - s - c..l..a..s..s. The world seemed different from inside.

I needed some earthly substance in my stomach to realize i am still alive. So we were in her house to have something.Something to eat. i think now it was Smita's turn.She started acted strangely.She was sharpening her teeth and i thought i went there to eat something. i didn't know i was the dinner.

She placed her hand on my knee and i got the clue about the script. I still had an option in front of me.i thought i could not, should not do it or may be.
I was still and still again.

Meanwhile a ring tone breaks the silence.Smita picks up the call and a tear rolls down her left cheek.

I thought she got the smell of my socks."I am sorry" - i said,"they are my friends not mine".
But that was not the good time for cheap humour. She slightly moved away from me.Some discussions and i left the place with a light heart and a clear head.

Ahuja called me 45 times that night in a try to get the slice of masala story.
I surfed the net and stuffed his mind with some russian story with mercedes S-class in it.Toasts,belly dance and Hukka at Mocca's on occasion of Merc Ride.

During a toast, i thought about the discussions with Smita.She has a perfect life.A perfect home.A perfect job.Perfect parents.A perfect kid but also a broken promise.
A promise that her husband has not kept alive.A promise to be true.To be with her all her life.Not a single moment of her life goes without a question to herself that why he lied to her soul.And to become soiled was the best answer she could give to herself.

That night it was her son, Rohan's call. Rohan's voice was enough to save Smita's innocence.The innocence that she delibrately tried to stain just to escape from the questions she always had.

Meanwhile music at mocca's was ruining my feet.Ahuja was mad with belly dancers and his Vodka. I wish I had the courage to say him that S-Class is not that good.Not good enough to discount the reality of life.And no such pleasure exists in this cosmos that can compensate for a wounded soul.They might have invented an artificial heart, i wish such thing exists for a human soul too.

"Bhai Come back home, we are billionaires,zabardast Idea". i just received an SMS from ahuja.

We will ride a Merc for sure but not without a genuine soul,2600 cc laughs and sunidhi,Ahuja's so called gf.Lets go.