His Old Maruti 800
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| Arindam Moulick |
Back in ’99, a small car like Maruti 800 was still the stuff of a legend. The same old car of Manpreet’s Aunt came in handy for him when Sexy Devee, TD Suraj, and I drove in his car to Satyam Technology Center at Badourpally to attend the final day of our roaming division’s annual seminar. The return journey, especially, turned to be an unforgettable experience for all of us.
Not wanting to miss out on having a jolly good time at STC was quite natural for us to be excited about, and to be at the seminar – which was well-attended by clients and spearheaded by our bossy old gad called GG Howdy – where lip-smacking luncheon was arranged at the poolside of the Club House was another icing on the cake of our extraordinary Satyam life.
I clicked several pictures of our clients enjoying poolside snacks with my Canon SLR Junior camera. (No question of fashionable ‘selfies’ or time-wasting Facebook-ing during those days). When I think about those days now I can’t help but get completely perked up reminiscing about the kind of dedication we brought to our work and the sense of great bonhomie we have had.
Clients were happy and upbeat about the kind of informatics we provided; they made sure they acknowledged it in the annual seminar we conducted at our Satyam Club House, a specialty retreat for IT professionals to get together, talk business, and enjoy. It was all such a great treat! Satyam offered them everything, right from the scratch-to-the-finish service. A finished product, with all its essential delights, is what clients always love to talk about and get appreciative about. We were all a big happy house of professionals partaking scrumptious lunch there at the nicely-mowed green lawns.
Driven by Manpreet, the tiny little trophy of a car was his best travel companion. He was evidently enjoying driving his car back to the city that day along the old battered, neglected highway. When we drew near the signal point at the 8-point intersection close to the old airport terminal, he slammed on the brake pedal so hard and the ensuing sound responding off the hot tyres underneath gave everyone one of us in the car a vicious jolt and we flung forward and then backward like Daisies on a wind! I was sitting in the front with Manpreet at the wheel and TD Suraj and Sexy Devee were at the back, with our hearts in our mouth! After we banged to a stop, tyres screeching and rubbers burning hot, Manpreet glimpsed at us one by one, first me, then Devi and Suraj, and said, “What…?” before adding mischievously: "Kaisa laga…?" His trademark shameless Laughing Buddha-like grin broke upon his face which widened majestically to expose his well-arranged oral piano, his ivory teeth, all shining together! Teenk, teenk, teedink...!
I quickly turned to peek at Sexy Devee and TD Suraj and saw both giggling away to glory! I couldn’t resist giggling like a child too.
First-Time Pillion Rider!
Obviously, he was uncomfortably seated on his great bum and felt very funny of himself. He was a good sport no doubt. I, in my turn, was finding it extremely difficult to control my silly amusement at seeing him reel in sheer discomfort and was fighting mighty hard not to burst out laughing! Somehow I controlled myself.
My bike wouldn’t move forward. It wouldn’t budge at all; the engine cried out in an almighty growl as if traumatized by this sudden enormous overload on its back; the unexpected misery of it! I was bewildered at the unfolding scene thinking: just why wouldn’t the bike move? If at all Manpreet ceases to feel funny about himself and stop being shaky and all then perhaps we can make a move. And thank God I was still able to stifle my laughter inside my equally aghast pair of lungs. We knew we were getting late for the movie!
Manpreet’s broad abdomen overhanging on his mighty legs which happened to be spread-eagled on the pillion seat had kept me totally amused! It was quite a bother for him to adjust and readjust himself in the small elongated seat of my Splendor. But thankfully, nothing seemed to have worried him anymore once he had found himself hoisted up on my bike in a state of delightful inconvenience. He soon settled down on the back seat like a colossal pigmy with a maroon pugree that he often wore to office draped around his head. I thought it would be really funny if someone took a picture of the two of us riding on the Raj Bhavan Road without a care in the world!
I knew his discomfiture is not going to deter him whatsoever from enjoying the ride all the way to Skyline. On the contrary, I had to be extra cautious riding the two of us folks; giving a wide berth whenever possible to the rash movement of traffic on the roads as we merrily honked our way through the 5-point Crossing via the Raj Bhavan Road. It was such fun. We rode past the Nizam’s Club on the left and were on the approach road to the Stadium on the right and by taking a quick short-cut route that lay adjacent to an under-construction flyover we arrived at the famed Skyline movie theatre where new English movies were a staple. Thanks to Manpreet and my riding skills, the ride here was really fun. I knew that someday I’d recount this outing as those set of remembrances that can never be forgotten.
That was the first and the only time we went to a movie together during our long and wonderful working years at one of Satyam’s unforgettable and truly great office branches: Tesser Tower.
A Fond Remembrance
Skyline is not very far from the place where Arinvan had first met his lucky mascot Shruti T., his matter-of-heart person from his doting college years. A little far from the place where he came to see a movie with his colleague Manpreet is where he had his short but precious little dining experience with Shruti and her friend at the acclaimed Alex’s Kitchen.
Alex’s Kitchen, the place had never been forgotten after the first and the only charming meeting Shruti and I have ever had there. Forgotten in the sense that never again has I been felt able to dine there nor did I mention about our little rendezvous to anyone, after she went away. Never before, never after, but until now. That small paradise of a place had been sanctified to the dazzling memory of Arinvan’s love with Shruti. Talking to anyone about her, as Arinvan had believed, would’ve spoiled the sanctity of the unique memory he still had of her. She was special – her voice, her smile, her eyes, her laughter he’d heard on the phone was special. He didn’t want to share their love story with anyone; maybe that was the only way he wanted to keep it private from any unwelcome scrutiny. During those days, she was everything Arinvan had dreamt of her to be. He nurtured Shruti in his heart like a precious little gem lest anyone steal it from him. And these days her voice still rings in his ears and those old sepia-tinted memories come flooding by every so often.
(To be continued...)
Alex’s Kitchen, the place had never been forgotten after the first and the only charming meeting Shruti and I have ever had there. Forgotten in the sense that never again has I been felt able to dine there nor did I mention about our little rendezvous to anyone, after she went away. Never before, never after, but until now. That small paradise of a place had been sanctified to the dazzling memory of Arinvan’s love with Shruti. Talking to anyone about her, as Arinvan had believed, would’ve spoiled the sanctity of the unique memory he still had of her. She was special – her voice, her smile, her eyes, her laughter he’d heard on the phone was special. He didn’t want to share their love story with anyone; maybe that was the only way he wanted to keep it private from any unwelcome scrutiny. During those days, she was everything Arinvan had dreamt of her to be. He nurtured Shruti in his heart like a precious little gem lest anyone steal it from him. And these days her voice still rings in his ears and those old sepia-tinted memories come flooding by every so often.
(To be continued...)
By Arindam Moulick
- A slightly different version of the above article has been published on EzineArticles.com. Click on the below weblink to read the article: http://ezinearticles.com/?Fond-Remembrances&id=9085687
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. All incidences, places, and characters portrayed in the story are fictional and entirely imaginary. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. No similarity to any person either living or dead is intended or should be inferred.
- A slightly different version of the above article has been published on EzineArticles.com. Click on the below weblink to read the article: http://ezinearticles.com/?Fond-Remembrances&id=9085687
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. All incidences, places, and characters portrayed in the story are fictional and entirely imaginary. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. No similarity to any person either living or dead is intended or should be inferred.