Para 1-c
“Hmm…..” Mr. Contemporary watches a young petite entering in the park having pretty curves and a Dictaphone in her hands. She is ensuring herself with the list of songs before the walk. Though gently, Mr. Contemporary whistles a song. “Better Man” by Robbie Williams. The girl looks into his eyes with a note of praise for his correct delivery of the melody. Mr. Contemporary smiles, bows his head and throws a honey coated hallo to the girl. The girl, naïve and upfront reflects a stretching “Hi….” Like a slur on a guitar and treads towards the cemented aisle amidst rows of regular garden greeneries. Mr. Late watches this quite for some time and says-
“I just missed a business class seat yesterday”.
Mr. Contemporary shows his attention by saying a “hmmm…” while looking at the well shaped waistline of the girl going away from his line of vision.
“I was uselessly prejudiced and I should have gone with the check-in receptionist when she offered me seat 6-A. It was kingfisher Red in which I was supposed to fly with no class system and apprehensive of the uncomforting I locked aisle seat 4C while booking through the portal”.
“This is interesting Mr. Late”. Mr. Contemporary splashes his concern and Mr. Late looks at his inquisitive face carrying a wish for his non-interrupted travelogue.
“When I boarded in the cabin, I found I have fooled myself. That was another airbus having business class seat and 4A lies within the rows for the same. That was neither a gift nor a surprise but regular air bus was under maintenance that day”.
Mr. Contemporary looks at the girl and his eyes follow her anatomy with a desire to company her. The girl has started walking and her curves are pronouncing attic of sweet seduction.
“Do you remember your first love”? Mr. Contemporary asks him while his eyes follow the girl now accelerating a bit into brisk one.
“Hmmm….” Mr. Late appears sleepy. He has no sleep last night and the unknown call, thrice by midnight made him haywire. He prepared to thrash Mr. Suneel Dhavan for his scraps he would have messaged to the girl by late night. But it was too late and he knew that his wife picks late night calls. The girl requested him to stop Mr. Dhavan messaging and calling him in lieu of unwanted business proposals in modeling and fashion industry.
“But who are you and how does it matter to me if Suneel Dhavan is extending his business hours”?
He almost shouted amidst the soundtrack of Safe Journey floating in his one room kitchen haven.
“It very much matters to you”! The girl growled, and Mr. Late searches for the packet of cigarette, amused and completely striven.
“I met him through you Mr. Late”. The girl was little calmed down.
Huh….! So what! I had have introduced many peoples to so many peoples. Now you tell me that is it a good endeavor to piss my life with all those introductions where I have been taking it as a directory courtesy to my erstwhile. Mr. late tried to wane her indictment and lit the cigarette.
.................................................................To be continued.
Nirmal Augastaya
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