Thursday 6 August 2009

Hashi Bhaiya- Short Story

For all those who had had a rough night, the following day would invariably start under Hashi Bhaiya's expert stewardship. His push cart which had one day turned up under the Banyan tree near the student's activity center quickly became the one source of solace for Advaith and many of his friends who liked to enjoy the occasional wild night.

As a bleary eyed Advaith walked up to Hashi Bhaiya's corner one sunday, late in the morning, he noticed a long faced fresher sitting on the improvised bench next to the cart. Hashi Bhaiya was preparing his special Sikanjvi, so it quickly became clear to Advaith that something had badly shaken up the “kid”. Advaith had not paid much attention to the freshers that year as the university had tightened it's grip on ragging and had gone to extraordinary lengths to curb the so called social evil. So much so that, the freshers' hostel resembled a jail after sunset.

Advaith gave a nod of acknowledgement to Hashi Bhaiya who returned it with a knowing smile. He knew that the MADS (music and dramatics society) gang had been hanging out at Wadia Bros., the alcohol store/improvised pub, the previous night. Wadia Bros. was an establishment which had for years been the mainstay for all the thirsty souls. It was an alcohol store like none other. With a clinic adjacent to it, the frequent visitors to this watering hole par excellence quite often joked amongst themselves about how TIP (This Is Punjab, inspired by the movie “Blood Diamond”) the entire set-up was. There were plastic chairs and tables on the pavement in front of the store with a tiny tin shed to one side which served starters for those who preferred their drinks with something spicy.

Hashi Bhaiya served the fresher his drink and counseled him about surviving the initial bout of home sickness that most freshers go through. Advaith stopped worrying about the “kid”, he almost felt a supercilious emotion; he looked towards the fresher for one last time with a condescending smile. The “kid” nervously looked away; Advaith decided to leave him alone and instead turned his gaze upon Hashi Bhaiya who had prepared the pick me up that he knew Advaith would eventually order. Advaith accepted his Pudhina (mint) tea with deep gratitude which he somehow managed to convey to Hashi Bhaiya through his puffy, bloodshot eyes. “A plate of chole kulche will do you a lot of good, don't skip breakfast Puttar”, said Hashi Bhaiya in rich, flowing, Punjabi accented Hindi. Advaith readily accepted the offered plate, knowing that the mess in his hostel would have stopped serving breakfast this late in the morning.

A light drizzle started and Hashi Bhaiya quickly moved his push cart further into the recesses of the shade provided by the banyan tree. One of the wheels had long since rusted and the cart moved only when Hashi Bhaiya threw his considerable bulk behind it. Advaith sipped on his tea while he gently tested the waters as he attempted to slip back into the turbulent pool of consciousness.

“Why don't you get your wheels repaired Bhaiya?” asked Advaith through the slowly clearing haze clouding his mind.

“My customers and children that I love are all here, what need do I have to move my cart?”

Advaith returned to his hostel to get back to his books. He had had enough of fun and it was time he got started with his studies since campus placement season was about to begin. His resolve to cut out the distractions even led him to refuse to answer Sachi's, his girlfriend, calls. He had reasoned that he could always have fun again, all he had to do was abstain for a couple of months and he could always make up for it later.

Twenty years later, Advaith found himself returning to his campus, which apart from a few shiny buildings remained very much the same familiar home away from home. He had indeed managed to land a lucrative position with an MNC, and for twenty years since the day he had refused to answer Sachi's phone call, he had had little or none of the kind of fun that he had grown accustomed to during his four years on campus. On the day he had been promoted to the top position which put him in charge of the Indian wing of his company, he had received an email from his institutes's Training and Placement Cell requesting for an appointment.

The email sent a jolt of excitement through his body. For twenty years he had worked eighty hour weeks and never had he even contemplated a vacation until that moment. Putting all activities on hold, he called his institute to let them know that an appointment with his offices would be unnecessary as he had decided to personally visit the institute.

As the cab neared the familiar marble decorated gates, Advaith felt like a child entering a toy store. He felt like whooping and jumping in the air.

The two hours with the dean of industrial liaison turned out to be a drawn out affair, Advaith was reminded of all the red tape that he and his friends had to cut through during the many times they had had to organise tech-fests or cul-fests.

He was relieved when he finally was able to step out of the dean's office and walk out onto the campus. He walked around his erstwhile favourite haunts and spent ageless moments gazing at the many once familiar spots. Now that Advaith was taking a close look, what emerged was almost perverse. The innumerable nooks and corners of the campus which had once been an integral part of Advaith's universe had all changed in some small way or the other. There were a couple of new buildings, but what was more alarming was the smaller changes. The Gulmohar tree under which he had first met his girlfriend had grown taller and seemed somehow, older and weaker with many branches cut off. As he rounded the corner around the student's activities center, his mind flew to a moment which had occurred twenty years ago, to a moment spent in the company of Hashi Bhaiya. He dreaded what seemed to him the inevitable. It felt like all the omens and portends which had built up a sense of foreboding in Advaith were all meant to climax at this moment when he would turn the corner...

And there he was, with a lot more grays in his hair, and his push cart missing a wheel entirely. The three other wheels had developed a lot more rust. Advaith walked up to the cart with palpitations building up in his chest. Would Hashi Bhaiya recognise him, would it be just like the old times, or would this too be another perverse metamorphosis, alien to the treasured forms that he held so close to his bosom?

“Why so jittery? Sit, I'll make you some Pudhina chai- Baijao- sit.”

Advaith walked around the cart to take his usual place on the bench, wondering if Hashi Bhaiya had actually recognised him. He accepted his tea with shaking hands and drank half the contents in one go. Hashi Bhaiya had remembered how Advaith would insist on being served chai which was not too hot, but at just the right temperature. However, he was still unsure, the tea had only increased his heart beat rate and had made him even more protective of his memories. If he opened up now, it would only make him more vulnerable.

“Have you been in touch with Sachi?” asked Hashi Bhaiya.

A shocked expression was all that Advaith could muster up in terms of a reply to the question.

“Ha Ha! Drink your tea first, then we can talk.”

The laugh too had remained unchanged, Advaith's temporary lapse from sanity was remedied by the Pudhina Chai.

“It is only you children who forget us, can any father stop thinking about any of his children?” said Hashi Bhaiya with a saintly smile on his face.

Advaith's throat had developed a curious condition, no matter how hard he tried to swallow, his saliva refused to flow down his oesophagus.

“You haven't been in touch with Sachi have you? Look puttar, money, power, fame are all things that we thirst for, it is only love that can actually quench our thirst. Sachi is also here in Jhelum hostel, she is doing her post doctorate, go meet, who knows, maybe something good will happen. Ha Ha! Wipe the drool off your face puttar, you look like you have just seen a ghost!”

Advaith recovered enough to laugh along with Hashi Bhaiya. For the next two hours, he sat under the banyan tree enjoying himself like he never had over the past twenty years.

“Theek hai puttar, enough time you have spent with this old man. I have a special treat for you!” said Hashi Bhaiya as he whipped out his mobile phone.

That evening was the first of the innumerable evenings that Advaith would eventually spend in the loving company of Sachi.

7 comments:

Ridhima said...

Oh my God! I love this story. The descriptions are so gloriously detailed and almost, lovingly written out. You made the whole place seem so familiar.

This is one of your best works yet, Sods.

Vikram said...

Wow! Probably the best short-story I've read in a long, long time.

Btw, does Hashi Bhaiya actually exist?

ZooFugitive said...

@Ridhima- as always, thank you for all the public praise. Mail me your criticisms privately... heh heh...

@Vikram- Yeah, he does exist. I went with my uncle (he is an alumnus) to the BITS Pilani campus. That is where I met "Hashi Bhaiya", though that is not his real name... And, thank you for your comments...

Anonymous said...

Really vivid descriptions man. It was a movie running in my head. And I like how you threw in the romantic angle too.
How long has Sachi been doing her PostDoc for, man?

ZooFugitive said...

@sidzoo- :), Sachi had been working at DRDO after her Phd.

She then decided to go on a sabbatical to do a post-doc after a piece of pocket fluff spoke to her explaining the ultimate answer to the ultimate question... 42 is the answer because...

Thommen said...

hey really good work! the way you've written it somehow makes me feel like i've known all these characters for a long time..

amma said...

is Sachi real too?