I
She rang the bell - adjusting her hair and her dress while waiting impatiently to see his cheerful face through the grilled door. Dressed in formal trouser and shirt, he left the pasta on a mild flame and rushed to the door to let her in.
Since evening he had been busy cooking or at least trying. Garlic bread, mushroom soup etc was ready and now was the main course – pasta with white sauce. Earlier he had bough her favourite ice-cream and kept it in the freezer. He had carefully decked up his drawing board with an apt tabletop and set up a nice table with a lit candle on the terrace with two out of place Neelkamal chairs to go with the table. Wine glasses were missing but a Sulley Merlot was there and he had managed to mine out his swiss-knife to open it just at the right time.
They sat under the well laid out stars and pleasant moonlight, with flickering candles. She didn’t expect one bit of this, considering she knew, he has always been ‘let us order-in guy.’ She blushed as she gulped down the first sip of her wine and in return he smiled back.
As the clock drew closer to 12, she felt like a drive. A long one. He proposed, “How does Mumbai sea face sound?.” Without a delay of a minute, candles were blown, drawing board brought in, vessels dumped in the sink, socks n shoes and thud of the main door and her cars engine came to life.
Couple of hours later, they were at the sea face, watching the fire-works as they bid adieu to a great year together and got ready to reel in a new one. Phones rang, kept ringing, he picked one out of those calls. And they were off to his friends house party. ‘Hawaiian,’ it seems was the theme. Hosting couple opened the door and these two sober souls mixed with the rest.
She nodded, “You could drink. I will drive.” He smiled and obliged his friends. Shots, shooters and hugs followed. They left the party in a while, she drove this time.
On the way yet another call, yet another party at the farmhouse…they turned the wheel.
Next morning, he woke up earlier, milk and coffee was hard to find, he managed a litre of mineral water for her and they hit the road again. It was time to go home, their respective homes.
II
Rubbing eyes he woke up to see it was already 9. Fighting off the hangover from the 30th, he rushed to the washroom. Clock was already breathing down his neck. “We are supposed to leave. NOW.”-Dad.
He rushed, got ready the best he could, prayed a little and rushed to the car. Took out the parallel parked car, plugged in some floyd and waited for mom and dad to come out.
Drove up to the beach house. Picked up some beer on the way.
He hung around with all the uncles and aunties and reminiscing the old days. Later he walked up to he sun-set point and spent the whole evening there, trying to put the pieces together since he last came to this place.
From playing and cheating, staying up, ghost stories, childhood girlfriend, driving cars, to goofing up, flicking beers to father and son conversations, uncles’ advice; everything cluttered his mind. Beyond a point, he just pressed the speed dial and rest is personal.
With the setting Sun, there some strange peace and content in his heart, there was a joy of having made it to this place eventually. There was some excitement to welcome the new year and spend the first day of it at the beach. Spend the bright sunny day at the beach with people he grew up with, sip on a few beers, swim out in the sea and take a long walk on the beach with his father.
When the clock struck 12, mom and dad were the first people he hugged. Probably there was a lot going on in his mind but; “It is gonna be a great year” were the words that made it through the vocal cord. And he hugged them tighter.
Next day he drove back with his parents, messaged near and dear ones and spent a peaceful evening with them.
III
They both walked into the new years with some resolutions, thoughts, decisions, preferences etc…and by the time the parties were over some of them were already on the back-burners.
From the time they could remember ‘partying’, there was something different to each new years, and this year was no exception.
Boys to Men to Boys and so it continued…
Neo
Since evening he had been busy cooking or at least trying. Garlic bread, mushroom soup etc was ready and now was the main course – pasta with white sauce. Earlier he had bough her favourite ice-cream and kept it in the freezer. He had carefully decked up his drawing board with an apt tabletop and set up a nice table with a lit candle on the terrace with two out of place Neelkamal chairs to go with the table. Wine glasses were missing but a Sulley Merlot was there and he had managed to mine out his swiss-knife to open it just at the right time.
They sat under the well laid out stars and pleasant moonlight, with flickering candles. She didn’t expect one bit of this, considering she knew, he has always been ‘let us order-in guy.’ She blushed as she gulped down the first sip of her wine and in return he smiled back.
As the clock drew closer to 12, she felt like a drive. A long one. He proposed, “How does Mumbai sea face sound?.” Without a delay of a minute, candles were blown, drawing board brought in, vessels dumped in the sink, socks n shoes and thud of the main door and her cars engine came to life.
Couple of hours later, they were at the sea face, watching the fire-works as they bid adieu to a great year together and got ready to reel in a new one. Phones rang, kept ringing, he picked one out of those calls. And they were off to his friends house party. ‘Hawaiian,’ it seems was the theme. Hosting couple opened the door and these two sober souls mixed with the rest.
She nodded, “You could drink. I will drive.” He smiled and obliged his friends. Shots, shooters and hugs followed. They left the party in a while, she drove this time.
On the way yet another call, yet another party at the farmhouse…they turned the wheel.
Next morning, he woke up earlier, milk and coffee was hard to find, he managed a litre of mineral water for her and they hit the road again. It was time to go home, their respective homes.
II
Rubbing eyes he woke up to see it was already 9. Fighting off the hangover from the 30th, he rushed to the washroom. Clock was already breathing down his neck. “We are supposed to leave. NOW.”-Dad.
He rushed, got ready the best he could, prayed a little and rushed to the car. Took out the parallel parked car, plugged in some floyd and waited for mom and dad to come out.
Drove up to the beach house. Picked up some beer on the way.
He hung around with all the uncles and aunties and reminiscing the old days. Later he walked up to he sun-set point and spent the whole evening there, trying to put the pieces together since he last came to this place.
From playing and cheating, staying up, ghost stories, childhood girlfriend, driving cars, to goofing up, flicking beers to father and son conversations, uncles’ advice; everything cluttered his mind. Beyond a point, he just pressed the speed dial and rest is personal.
With the setting Sun, there some strange peace and content in his heart, there was a joy of having made it to this place eventually. There was some excitement to welcome the new year and spend the first day of it at the beach. Spend the bright sunny day at the beach with people he grew up with, sip on a few beers, swim out in the sea and take a long walk on the beach with his father.
When the clock struck 12, mom and dad were the first people he hugged. Probably there was a lot going on in his mind but; “It is gonna be a great year” were the words that made it through the vocal cord. And he hugged them tighter.
Next day he drove back with his parents, messaged near and dear ones and spent a peaceful evening with them.
III
They both walked into the new years with some resolutions, thoughts, decisions, preferences etc…and by the time the parties were over some of them were already on the back-burners.
From the time they could remember ‘partying’, there was something different to each new years, and this year was no exception.
Boys to Men to Boys and so it continued…
Neo
