Nobody's worth living for! Part-3
The writer known by a pen name, Kasak is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasises on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated.
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Nobody's worth living for!
For, part-1 visit the link, http://www.gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/11/guest-blog-by-kasak.html
For, part-2 visit the link, http://gagansvaid.blogspot.in/2014/12/kasak-continues.html
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Nobody's worth living for! Part-3
It took Rishit a while, precisely six days to get accustomed to life in the city. The roads and directions to places had changed, and then there were more prominent reclamation suburbs like Malad, which were rarely heard of in Rishit’s time in Mumbai, almost a decade back. At restaurants you called for ‘cheque’ instead of the usual ‘bill’, and if you had to get the leftovers packed, you’d politely ask the staff to ‘parcel’ it. Quite contrary to its northern metropolitan counterpart, travelling alone at night was safer in this region of the country, so you could get to experience a good share of nightlife in the city.
Rishit didn’t come with an itinerary, which was a blessing. At first, he spent a major portion of his time resting peacefully, which came as a surprise to him as sleep was something he had completely forgotten after Shivani’s exit. At nights, Simar would take him to parties at various clubs around the city. Because of the soft corner and motherly love she had for him, she would constantly try hooking him up with her ‘model’ friends in order to help him unwind and loosen up. But as far as he was concerned, life had put forth a perplexing question in front of him; who was he living for? Why was he feeling so much pain? He had begun to question his existence.
He became comfortable with life in Mumbai. After his rest periods became more uniform and the serenity of his beloved city sunk in, he began to wander. While Simar would be out working early mornings, he would be out exploring. He would take a jog at Diamond Garden, have a Vada Pav and cutting ‘Chai’ or ‘Coconut water’ breakfast and then go set out wherever his destiny would take him. He was now a nomad, travelling far and forth looking for answers. You would find him participating in the Namaaz prayers at Dargah Haji Ali, to enjoying a Schezwan Dosa and Masala Thumbs-Up at Hill road. He would enjoy the sunset at Nariman point and sometimes head to Juhu Beach for a Paani Puri-Pav Bhaji-Chuski dinner alongside long, breezy walks by the sea. Whilst alone, he would get drunk at Leo Café or watch a C-grade adult movie at Natraj cinema. The locals of the city were fun to converse with. From the restaurant cashier to the bus conductor, he would have random conversations with anyone. He was enjoying every bit of the new found amendment. It was as if, he had just returned home after a long, strenuous journey.
“Tonight I am really tired Rishit! Let’s resume club hunting from tomorrow?”
“Okay Sim. Goodnight!”
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In his school days, Rishit would love sneaking out from the backdoor for a long drive during winters with his friends and return home at daybreak, just before his parents were up. He was doing the same now, except for the fact that there were no parents to be scared of and thankfully, no winters. Simar is fast asleep and he, like a skilled robber escapes from danger zone with a bottle of wine in his hands.
“Sir, where to? Night charge extra! Okay?”
“Don’t worry bhaiya! Which is your favourite place in the city?” The auto guy looks at him with a funny expression.
“You drug addict sir?”
“No man! I am just confused. I just want to enjoy the night breeze and drink some wine in peace. Can you take me to a place where this is possible?”
“Okay sir, I take you!” He gives his typical ‘amchi mumbai’ know- it-all smile and starts the vehicle.
They reach a secluded hill with a vast church complex where the auto-rickshaw comes to a halt.
“Are we in Pali Hill? And this is a church. How am I supposed to drink here? They’ll kill me!” says Rishit, partly confused, partly amused.
“Yes sir Pali Hill! That see? That Ranbir Kapoor house! Don’t worry sir! Indian gods say alcohol bad! Christian gods love alcohol! You go that hill, look at sea and drink. Nobody watch! Very much enjoy!” the auto guy says, trying his best to sound somewhat legitimate.
With a hint of skepticism and reluctance, the auto guy agrees to be Rishit’s ally alongside the lonely night. They climb up the stairs to the church and take a little detour from the bushy hills and go and settle at the top of the hill. Ahead, you could see the sea waves ferociously hitting the rocks and the star-less sky is illuminated by the sole shining full moon. Rishit feels like writing a song about the ‘nature- euphoria’ he is experiencing and takes a big glug from the wine bottle, then passing it to the auto guy, who seems to look intoxicated, more with excitement.
“What is your name?” An amused Rishit asks.
“Rizwan sir. Rizwan Ali!”
As the night gets darker and the bottle of wine gets lighter, the conversations get intense.
“Like sir I explain to you! I am true muslim. I do Namaaz five times a day. But when there is terrorism attack, people call me terrorist. Why sir?” He takes another glug. “I cannot also talk to my cousin brothers now.”
“Why is that?”
“Because they are Sunni muslim sir! We fight! Their family want to kill my family sir. Who kill family sir? You tell? Religion create difference sir. And, difference create WAR.”
“Hmm”
“Now I enjoy drinking sir! But if my father know, he disown me! All because of religion sir! Religion divide and create doubt sir. That’s why muslim fanatic people sir! I am trapped. I just saying this to you because I am drinking sir.” Alcohol is taking its toll on the guy. Rishit listens intently.
“When rich people accuse me sir, my religion don’t save me. When they going to die, they will go to Lilavati hospital! But when I die, I get no medical help. But I follow my religion truly sir, then why not my god help? My god not worth living for! You get my point sir?”
“Yes. So you also want to be rich and powerful like them?”
“No sir! If all auto wallah and service class like me become rich, then everybody become rich! Then who do jobs for people? No balance in life sir! Then who take you to the hill and drink with you?” He laughs to himself.
“Then who are you living for?”
“Sir I am happy! I have family who care for me! Rich man have money but he is not happy! See, my wife give five missed calls. She wait for me. She miss me sir!” he blushes a little.
Here was somebody, living by the fact that his family cared and loved him against all odds. Money didn’t matter to him, he was content. Rishit on the other hand, felt that he was coming close yet drifting away from his answer. He had a strong feeling that his motive was different, as his family had abandoned him long back. He feels immeasurable pain reminiscing his past and finishes all the contents of the bottle with a prolonged last sip.
As the night progresses towards its darkest, both men fall asleep under the star-less sky.
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“Her name is Shanaya. Shanaya Seth! Be good to her okay! I have bought some Swiss Chocolates. Take them along!” says Simar.
“I am here to unwind Simar, not to fucking go on blind dates with random women!” says an agitated Rishit.
“So who is asking you to get married to her? Talk to her, get to know her better! That’s it. If you guys click, then thank me later. She looks stunning, almost Kashmiri! She is exactly your type.” She winks at Rishit.
“This is really stupid okay! You should have told me before. I haven’t even shaved in years. I smell like a stale rat. You really want her hurling swear words at you later on?”
“I don’t mind getting yelled at for you, baby!” She blows a flying kiss at Rishit.
“I am not joking Simar! I am just not ready for all this right now. And what is this Kashmiri tag you’ve given to the poor chick? Am I going for a date or to a brothel?” he says, amused yet tensed.
“See! You’ve just been through a tough phase. I constantly see the pain which you try to hide and trust me; it kills me a little inside too. So even if you don’t feel like it, do it for me please? Please Rishit!”
“Fuck you Simar!”
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Rishit reaches ‘Pizza by the Bay’, an Italian restaurant near marine drive with a phenomenal view of the sea, where a certain Shanaya Seth has invited him for dinner or ‘to chill’ in her words. In order keep Simar’s drama to the bare minimum; Rishit decides to go ahead with the trap she set for him. He is dressed in casual white shirt with sleeves folded and a pair of blue jeans. Half an hour has passed and all the poor guy can do sitting alone at his table is fiddle with cutlery and juggle with plates to make some music out of them.
“Excuse me? You must be Rishit right?” a soft feminine voice calls out. His juggling is interrupted, resulting in the plate falling with a thud on the table. Fortunately, the material is unbreakable.
“Err..Umm Yes! Sorry about that! I was really bored sitting alone and doing nothing. Hi Shanaya!” He stammers like an adolescent schoolboy talking to his first crush. They formally shake hands.
Shanaya is exactly the same, if not better as described by Simar. Dressed in a Black dress, she owns big round eyes, which are carefully highlighted by mascara and that is complemented by a gleaming pearl white smile, which only toothpaste models possess. Beauty came naturally to her, without having used heaps of makeup, just like the Kashmiri women Rishit fantasised about. She looks quite tall too, or is it because of the heels? Rishit is awestruck.
“I’m really sorry for being late! My boss is such an asshole. I had informed him that I had a prior engagement, but last minute mishaps you know! None of these guys budge. They almost treat you like a slave. You know I don’t mind it actually! I am paid well enough to handle these scoundrels” She talks, highlighting her elegant persona.
Rishit doesn’t quite know what to say next as handling MNC bosses is definitely not his area of expertise. He smiles at her and she smiles back.
“You should try their Mushroom pasta in pesto sauce or their Chicken margherita pizza is also sinfully awesome!” she says, showing her expertise with the restaurant’s menu.
“Anything! As long as they bring it fast. I am starving!” Both of them laugh and Shanaya calls for the waiter, who takes the order and promises to cater to Rishit’s impatience.
“So, Simar told me that you had a terrible break-up a few months back! What went wrong?” She inquisitively asks, while Rishit beholds a mixed expression on his face.
“Did she really say that? I’ll kill her!” Embarrassment flushes through his chiseled face.
“Come on! We all have our shit to deal with Rishit. You can tell me? Or should I order for some wine to ease you up?” She winks at Rishit.
“Yes please!”
The wine is called for right away and the conversations start bearing fruit. Rishit opens his heart out to Shanaya and she listens to him carefully. There remains an eerie silence between them for minutes after Rishit is done with his elegy.
“Women can be such jerks man!” Shanaya initiates, making an effort to break the silence.
“Hmm ”
“My last relationship ended pretty abruptly too you know!”
“What happened? Tell me!”
“Nothing, he was just too casual with everything! He was a journalist with a magazine and earned one- fourth of I did. There was no match!”
“What? For how long did you guys date?”
“One and a half year.”
“That’s a pretty long time! So why did you guys break up? I mean did he cheat on you or you weren’t just happy with him anymore?”
“Neither!” She says, helping herself and Rishit with the second serving of the wine. The waiter arrives with the food and the conversation subsides for a while as both of them are very hungry. Later, they resume.
“So what was the reason Shanaya?” Curiously asks Rishit.
“I always asked him to get serious about life, in general. He wanted to become a writer and was struggling to make a mark in the novel industry. Sure, he had a job with a magazine and he could do with that for a basic lifestyle. But I, on the other hand was getting an enormous pay package in the MNC I worked with. He would tell me that once he gets his lucky break, things would reverse and he would earn a fortune and give me all luxuries a rich man could give. I couldn’t wait for his ‘lucky break’ all my life! What would the society think? What would my defence be when I am being scrutinised by them? There would be grapevine all over my extended family that I am getting married to a good-for-nothing-journalist who earns peanuts.” She says, without an expression of guilt or regret on her face.
Rishit is taken aback by Shanaya’s words. He, in his mind is questioning the materialistic approach of the woman. Infuriated, he is tempted to give her a piece of his mind, but manages to practise self control and tries his best to sail the conversation smoothly.
“So you dumped him?”
“Yes, thankfully! I don’t regret even the slightest bit. It’s been over a year and he still is working with the same crappy magazine and watching distant dreams of becoming a successful novelist!” She breaks into a little giggle, Rishit looks at her intently.
“But you loved the guy? Didn’t you?”
“Yes I did! But love is never enough for the society you live in, social status is!” She replies carelessly, arranging her cutlery in place and then taking her last sip of wine.
“So you mean to say that your happiness comes second to societal norms and constraints?” Shanaya doesn’t quite take Rishit’s constant persuasions in good taste.
“Rishit stop making me feel like a heartless bitch! I am a practical person and have control over my decisions. I have a status in the society, which I strive to maintain over emotional decisions which would leave room only for remorse in the future. Yes, if that makes me an over-cautious and selfish person whose only motive in life is to be concerned about the society and its opinions, SO BE IT!”
“Hmm”
Rishit thinks it’s better to stay shut and let the conversation subside along with their silences. But intoxicated, Shanaya has been aroused and continues talking.
“You are a musician Rishit! I am sure you would understand. At some point of time when reality seeps in, you would have to step into the real world and work like a normal person. You can’t be playing the guitar at clubs all your life to make quick bucks! Where is the stability? And when there is no stability, there is no ground for solid relationships in life. That’s what the society wants and we must comply with it.”
With the tables turned at him now, Rishit is unable to hold himself and his anger any longer.
“SOCIETY! SOCIETY! SOCIETY! FUCK YOUR SOCIETY SHANAYA! I fail to comprehend your terminologies and your belief system! Since when did the society become more important than one’s own happiness? Would your society give you a helping hand when you are distorted? Or would they be the ones who would benefit from your triumphs? Tell me! I am a musician and I pursue it because it gives me HAPPINESS. I don’t mind playing in clubs, at restaurants or also on the streets until it makes me happy. It defines me and I can do that all my life. That is what you failed to understand and lost somebody who loved you so dearly! YOU MUST FUCKING UNDERSTAND THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO RATE THEIR HAPPINESS HIGHER TO SOCIETAL BULLSHIT!”
“Maybe! I think we have a really different mindset. Anyway, it’s getting late, I should be heading home! By the way, it was really nice meeting you Rishit.” She fakes a grin and calls for the ‘cheque’.
“Shanaya Wait up. One last question! Who are you living for?”
“You know the answer well Rishit. By saying it, I would only be challenging you up for another debate. We don’t have time for that!” She laughs and he smiles at her.
Having witnessed two different ways for perceiving life and moreover, two different reasons people lived by, Rishit still felt unsatisfied. Not that he didn’t understand that people had complex opinions, some deep sensation inside suggested that they lacked originality. They were things ideally present into the ‘human programming system’. Living in a culture which is stabbed by a primitively orthodox belief system, it is almost unavoidable to not think of how the society will think of your actions. More often than not, one finds himself placing his happiness second to that. These weren’t places of solace for Rishit.
They split the bill, exchange a formal hug and head towards different directions. The sea majestically reflects the moonlight off its surface.
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Kasak
For Artist Address
I usually love all your posts, every piece you write, but this one is strangely relatable, like I have met people similar to all characters mentioned and maybe that is why I'm curious about the next part even before having read the one that has been posted! Kudos for writing so fabulously!! Looking forward to part-4!! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Guneev! Your support and encouragement means a lot to me. Trust me, it helps me keep going. I await for responses as the story progresses towards it's end. If you like the stories make sure you share them and spread the word. Stay blessed!
ReplyDeleteMuch love
Kasak