Nasty Note (2) “We exactly ask you correct price.” His son furthered. “Its colour is very rare, madam. You can not get it even cheaper, try it.” The owner continued. And he winked into Suresh’s eyes. His cunning smile broadened. “Cheaper?” Supriya astonished. “You say it cheaper. You are joking with us.” She shook her both hands helplessly. “Yes madam, of course. We can’t cheat on you because you are our nice customer.” And he smiled flippantly. Supriya smirked. “How could I be your nice customer, even you are not my well acquaintance. Moreover, it is my first visit here.” Then she began to fiddle with her wire pin. “You speak to all your customers’ sugary words so as to fleece them, I understand. And your every customer is for you always nice. Am I right?” Supriya scoffed. The sourness of expression irked showroom owner. He embarrassingly gaped at Suresh. “Bhai Sahib is our old customer, madam. And you are here with him. So we welcome you. We think you might also have been our nice customer.” At this, Supriya tittered and looked into Suresh’s disquieting eyes. “It’s only you who are not comfortable with us otherwise our reputation is not so bad, madam. Believe us.” Supriya watched owner’s lips forming words. Then mucky frog hopped back his sprawling seat. “We’ll give you this shawl fifty rupees less.” He formed his lips again. “Only one thousand, incredible price because we don’t want you to catch other shop, madam.” Then a shout order for colas beverage was placed and within four five minutes two bottles reached. “Eight hundred is genuine prize.” Supriya insisted. “No madam, sorry.” He couched back into his lofty chair and turned to other customers. Supriya felt ignored, instantly stood up and frisked out leaving beverage undrunk. Suresh shook hand with the showroom owner and trailed her behind. The showroom owner looked into him in puzzlement. Crossing the road, they got to cement desk nearby the fountain. Supriya was annoyed and Suresh wanted her to be happy anyway. She repeatedly looked into his eyes with pain as if only he was responsible for the unsuccessful shopping. Stupid! How he shook hands with the pygmy son of bitch (shopkeeper)? Had he not the connivance with him? He could not have bought her even a shawl. Could he not borrow her money or present a good shawl if he respected her emotions. Shopkeepers are at all times continued befooling people. They are always horrifying bargainers, why he could not catch their intentions? Suresh started engine. Greatly hurt, she took the back seat, pouted to display ire and sobbed afterwards. Studying her sulkiness, Suresh winced, stepped down the car, escorted her to front seat, holding her arms and helping him sit inside, and then caressed over her tender cheeks and thin neckline afterwards. She emotionally slid into his arms and let him put apologising kisses onto her. After that, Suresh escorted her to another shopping complex. He guided her shoes centres, book kiosks and cosmetic shops and many Bartan stores suggested her buy whatever she loved. Shoes shopkeeper showed her some pairs of fine quality American moccasin. A rare of the rarest pair displayed inside the cabinet attracted her and Supriya loved to wear the very piece which was out of her reach. Here, Suresh again insulted her not to buy her the shoes of her fancy. Supriya shopped nothing. No doubt, Suresh hated to fritter money on shoes-like or shawl-like things but he loved to carry his sweetheart into cafeteria. Suddenly without approval from her, Suresh drove his car towards sumptuous restaurant. Supriya surprised, when the car suddenly pulled up, she denied to come down. Suresh put a kiss onto her cheeks to grow her happy and opened the door to her respect. She just smiled but spoke nothing. They dropped in cafeteria hall and took the very table as Supriya chose for themselves. And as for the menu, she left it on Suresh and he ordered cheese sandwich for himself and croquette for Supriya because he knew that Supriya savoured sea food delectably. After finish their eating, they both hurried back to campus. They talked less as Supriya was far much embarrassed because of failure shopping. Suresh dropped her at girls’ hostel gate with an apologetic embrace and goodbye kiss. Supriya had to walk over department to gather xeroxed leaves she had protected with the senior clerk. Next day, Supriya again thought if her boyfriend had not duped her smartly? Vicious fellow! Even he did not have the sense how to behave with girlfriend?” Why didn’t he escort her to reasonably price shops? How he guilefully shook hands with that swine? Befooling me? I will never go along with him again. Swine! After sometime, she cried. “Rogue! Cheater! I loathe you, stupid. Why didn’t you help me shopping, what would be the use of my prize money? What would be the use of one thousand rupee note which I have had?” The cry reached its crescendo and she fell down her face into palms. She instantly resolved she would visit the market alone. Yes, unquestionably alone. Any work executed alone with devotion always augments self confidence, yields better results. And next day evening, she took herself to seventeen sector shopping complex, absolutely alone, no class girl or hostel friend along with her. The decision was firm to buy a fine, exclusive, memorable thing with meagre money of just one thousand so that she might humiliate Suresh with her wisdom. She lingered down one shop to another up and backed to previous one undecidedly what to buy or what to not. Saris, Jeans, T-shirts, skirts-tops, utensils, books, cosmetics, body-shaping devices, transistors, goggles or even flowerpots were failed to catch her fancy. The market was littered with boredom, monotony and stupidity. Every shopkeeper looked silly scoundrel, pervert and fucking haggler. Having bought nothing, she immediately decided to scurry back, frustration made her senses paralysed. She had no longer conveyance of her own. She got to market by local CTU bus and had to get back by that means. She wanted back-bus to reach university campus. And for this, she got to ‘Seventeen Sector Bus Terminal’ where she could hire bus. It was the highway road where bus seekers to different sectors waited for conveyance. It was the main chowk facing Central Bus Stand. Supriya was too tired, drained and strained to wait for local CTU bus. She looked for cab which nowhere to be seen. The road was crammed with traffic on both sides. Even the pedestrians struggled to cross the hazardous road. Village folks attiring old fashioned apparels thronging from nowhere, packed with luggage slung on their shoulders were running unsafely crossing the risky road where buses of different colours and models-government run roadways and private ones showing their states’ names over their temples and lot of limousines, jeeps, canters, bikes and loaded trucks too were running madly towards their destinations. Not only Supriya but all the air, all the smoke spitting out from vehicles seemed mad also. Each thing, even existence of God if any- seemed mad. Nature too was mad with wrath. A cluster of trees in the vicinity of Central Bus Stand too seemed mad shaking its heads in the fury of stormy wind. A mad mopodist too was vying with meek and old cyclist and singing Hindustani filmy song- Jane Kahan Gaye Woh Din. He recalled the days those had gone in waste and now he was rueful. Supriya suddenly spotted a taxi. She tried to cross the road to hail it. But the madly traffic was unsafe that apprehended her to stand there for minutes. All of a sudden, her eyes caught a foreign couple hugging all along with each other the other side of the road in the vicinity of sumptuous restaurant. Supriya joined them immediately and introduced herself. “It is Miss Supriya, English literature student. I’m twenty years old, friends!” “Wow! Twenty years…beautiful age, delight to meet you Miss Beauty.” The guy wondered. Supriya blushed. A moment later, she frankly held out her hand towards them. “I’m here just wanted to say you hello.” Supriya smiled exhaustingly. They shook their hands with Supriya as they exchanged their introductions. They had been from Australia. Lady was slightly rotund seemed girl friend to the guy perched up the cement bench close to her. Their colour was fair and hairs brown. Eyes tinted blue. Girl had worn transparent glasses. They explained to Supriya that they were horde of twenty people visited India to play a part in Dance Pageant organised by Punjab University Theatre Department. They were impressed on by the beauty of Chandigarh city. When Supriya told them that this city had been architected by Swiss-French planner Le Corbusier. They lavished praises on him that pursued Supriya to explain more about the celebrated architect. They explained to her that they had some time ago read much about Mr. Le Corbusier. Supriya beamed as the conversation went on interesting. She further told them that the architect of the Chandigarh city was not only city planner but writer and painter also who had most important achievements in the development of modern planning. What is more, he was also one of the architects appointed to plan permanent buildings for the United Nations in New York City. After some time, the subject automatically jumped to another topic. Supriya asked why they didn’t stay at university campus. They scoffed and complained for university’s poor accommodation. “That is why Miss Beauty, we are forced to stay at hotel.” They wailed. Supriya pained why the officials of the university had grown so much apathetic? “Don’t lose your heart, babe.” The lady beamed as she patted over her cheeks. Supriya smiled meekly. “Say, how do you do?” “Very much fine.” Supriya tried to smile as she adjusted her flowery skirt. Then she made her introduction with all of them one by one. They were twenty people. Twenty foreigners. She was anxiously mad to see foreign people and wanted to befriend with them, dance with them, play cards with them, sing with them, laugh with them, drink with them, love with them and dine with them. They all people were great, smart, intelligent, well- groomed and wise, full of entertainment, blend of humour and wits. Supriya had had the deep desire since days back to befriend with a foreigner guy. Now the good opportunity was there to wait for her. How she could miss the long-awaited opportunity? Mirthfully, she tossed her hair back and glanced into a young man’s eyes. Supriya did know nothing about him. But he seemed a sort of auspicious thing to her. She wanted to offer herself for friendship. A balanced smile continued to dance on her lips but could it stir the youngman? No, Supriya thought. She wanted to converse with him but the presence of rotund lady was a big harassment in the way of emotional outpourings. All of a sudden, the picture of Suresh kept spinning before her eyes. What would he think of her if he came to know her relationship with the foreigner? Although she disliked him yet she had his horror. “Supriya! You are nasty lady. You hoodwink him. Bitch!” She thought as if someone rebuking her, slapping her with curses, someone from the mystic world, from the unknown planet. Who was it? Was there a God? She heard a supernatural sound descending from the sky as she could not decipher its meaning. She reflected if it would really not be a cheating if she bond in friendship with a foreigner? She mused over and over as nibbling her nails in vague desperation. Her soul sadly didn’t agree with herself. “Miss Supriya! You are a cheat. You are treading on the wrong path. Aren’t you?” Her soul admonished her. Shouldn’t you have a commitment with one man? A decent Indian woman would have been in high spirits with just one man, haven’t you any knowledge of it? You would be happy in the company of a single man. It is an advice from God and nature to her. A precious advice. Yes, he- the single one, only- single one should be her lord, her God, her friend, her mentor, her sweetheart, and her whole lot. Nothing else. “Rubbish!” She yelled to herself. The young guy had disappeared into nearby crowd. Where? She looked around anxiously and kept on standing there alone, mute, immobile striving to search him. It seemed as if her dream would turn into a nightmare. “Absolutely rubbish! How much bewildering thing it is to be imagined only one man in life.” She confused to herself. Only one man could satisfyingly justify to woman’s emotional as well physical urges. No, she had the instances of a lot of ladies who had dozens of male friends. A woman should be befriended with dozens of men and opt for the best one who could satiate her emotional and physical needs. Who could take care of her, love her heartily? However, bury it who says what or who says what not. Is Suresh my dearest? No, not at all. He is just my classmate. Either he may keep on saying that he is my dearest boyfriend and lover. Huh! My lover. How a stupid can be my lover? I am not his sweetheart and he is not my lover. He is my lover only in talks. Neither I love to him from heart nor he to me. Oh, no I am just carping against him. Some friends are for all time dear. Everybody knows he is my dear one and I love him to some extent but he is not my dearest. How could he be my dearest? A selfish. If he stupid takes me his sweetheart, what can I do? Am I myself responsible for his reasons and stupidity? “You are lying Supriya.” Her inner challenged her as she smiled at herself fuzzily. “Can you truly say that you are not in love with him?” “Yes, I’m not.” Supriya ostensibly shrieked with ache. And afterwards, she developed unexpected headache that made her want to scream with more ache, more agony, and more frustration. “Then, why did you sometimes think about kissing with Suresh?” Her soul asked honesty. “Rubbish! I hate that bastard. Don’t embarrass me please otherwise I will go crazy.” She cried into her hands. “Don’t lie- you do Supriya when you seek an opportunity.” His inner mind challenged. “I don’t think just kissing to dear friend is bad thing. Does just kissing make me pregnant?” Supriya reasoned. And within a moment, she realised that she has spoken an erred statement. She heard her soul laughing sarcastically. “Do you agree, kissing is prelude to sex?” The inner heart acted as a judge. At this, Supriya smiled drowsily. “But I would never let her cross the limits anyway.” Supriya spoke haughtily as she pouted. “I am not a vamp girl and kissing is my border line, I am clear about it.” She spoke more frankly, little proudly. “Border line?” “Because this way, I get happiness.” She articulated. “Certainly?” “And certainly not pregnancy.” She herself stressed the word ‘pregnancy’. “Is mere happiness your attitude of life?” “Yes, I do think so.” Supriya entwined the fingers of her both hands into each other to emphasise her point of views. “Why?” It was her inner voice. “Because happiness gives me life and it is always sacred.” Supriya said frankly. “You mean morality has no meaning in your life.” Soul was determined to irritate her. “Morality is what I know well.” She cried. “Kissing to boyfriend in open is morality?” At this, Supriya irritated. “Why do you keep on pestering me? I shall do what I desire” She announced as she screwed up her face. “Mahabharata Drapaudi loved only Arjuna, an intrepid warrior, her loving victor but duty bound to bed with five men. Five Pandavas” She then laughed sickly at herself. “At that time where the morality had vanished? So, morality is what that means to be happy the every moment of life. And Drapaudi did what she wanted to make herself happy” “One way you say she was dutybound, the other you say she wanted to be happy the every moment” “Oh God! Save me, someone from my inner want to kill me” “Why are you so displeased, Supriya?” She questioned to herself. And at that moment, her soul disappeared. Her heart felt as if invincible. She grinned sarcastically at herself. Then she waded through the crowd to search for the young guy. She was determined to find him. All of a sudden, she watched the rotund lady separating the young guy alone to down town market to glimpse the books exhibition. When her eyes met with the young guy, he smiled “Hi Miss Supriya, you are English Literature graduate, good.” “I’m currently in final year, sir.” She beamed. The Australian guy nodded. “You think sir; earning English Literature is good fun.” “No-but, yes-yes, I think it must have been good fun.” Australian guy puzzled as he held Supriya’s hand. Her hand was soft as if a hand of a baby. Supriya did not resist. Perhaps the foreign guy wanted to befriend with her, she thought. “You Indians are always lovely people.” The guy smiled as he glimpsed into Supriya. “What’s your good name, sir?” “I’m Jackpot.” He spoke when he kissed her hand. Supriya blushed. She deliberately did not pull her hand back, confused what to say or what to not. Her hand was yet embraced into his. “Really Jackpot?” Supriya blossomed. The strange Australian guy began to peep into her full breasts. And a moment later, when he noticed Supriya looking at his eyes, he focussed her eyes to a distant thing. “It’s my pleasure if you think so, honey.” Jackpot gave a big smile. “Yours is good name, sir.” Supriya mildly pulled back her hand. “This name my mother gave me.” He furthered. “But my cronies would often clamour me Jackanapes.” “Jackanapes... so” Supriya laughed loudly and drops of spit nestled over Jackpot’s arms. She felt humiliated while Jackpot remained unaware of it. With little efforts, Supriya summoned up all her courage. “Do you like to befriend with me, Jack?” Supriya asked mildly. “Why not? Sure.” Jackpot stirred. “Friendship is I perceive the most obviously excellent thing” He again held her hand. “Now let me ask you about yourself, Don’t you?” Supriya silenced. She grew awesome what she was going to be interrogated. “And, let me ask your views on certain things also” He continued. Supriya nodded. “Oh, sure, sir.” Supriya smiled broadly. “What is honesty, you know, sweet?” Supriya thought for a while, then spoke. “Honesty is probably the sexiest thing a man can give to woman.” The answer amazed the Australian Jackpot Could he ever expect such a marvellous answer from an Indian lass? He thought the girl is really extraordinary. “And the true definition of education?” Was the second question.
Copyright © 2006 Ashwini Ahuja |