(This is a true story. The event explained below took place in Faridabad in 2013. At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed to alphabets. Out of respect for the alive, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.)
Everyone had
arrived at home. That day A’s girlfriend, T, was also supposed to join us. The
modus operandi would include discussing everything not so important went in the
college hours and alongside trying to reach a consensus on what and where to
eat. We had everything nearby that could amuse our tongues and still not burn
our pockets. Being a mechanical engineer, I always wonder how does Time flow.
And why it does not follow any principle like Bernoulli’s principle and have an
ideal equation like Hagen-Poiseuilli equation. I am ready to factor in the
externalities to find out how to control the flow of time. But like other
sciences, it is also based on assumptions. Anyways, most of the time it would
be too late to go to nearby places and we would end up on a dhaba on the
highway.
We were
discussing the nuances of the French beard of our Thermodynamics professor,
when T arrived. She would clumsily go to everyone and hug them out of the most awkward
questions. “Aap kaise ho. Aap mujhe yad nhi karte. Meri chocolate kahan h. Pta
hai aaj na mai gir gyi. And woh kamini hai na.....” (How are you? You don’t
remember me, na. Where is my chocolate? Do you know I fell today? And that
bitch....). We never answered them because we did not know what to answer and
in what order to answer. The discussion continued and A left with T in another
room. And after minutes of closed door T came out complaining about A. A had
started watching the last episode of Dexter and none of us were interested in the
gossip. Suddenly the discussion engine started knocking when tears in the eyes
of the only girl in the room mixed with the fuel of dissertation. When A was
still watching Dexter, T became the hub of the spokes around a wheel. The
demands started raining. She had to go out to a nice place and eat chicken with
rice. And each and every one had to bawl out at A for ignoring T. Dexter faked
his own death and A came out of the idiot box to fake his own apologies.
In a second,
all five of us sat in the car and went to a chicken corner on the opposite side
of the town with several stops in between to find a mango. It was her final
demand that she wanted to eat mango. We knew mango season had ended and it was
in vain to search for it. While we were entering, T innocuously said that on
the way back she would sit in the front seat. After the ruckus and spoiling the
dinner of every one inside, we came out without a care in the world. Our
stomachs were heavy and we just needed to lie down and play cards before ending
the day.
While on the
way back, the renaissance of whining started with the call for a mango. And
again the search for the king of fruits began for our little queen. Alas, we
could not find what we were looking for and we decided to head back home. In
our last attempt we decided to check the market nearby again where the
Mango-licious ride began!!!
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