On a wintry and foggy Delhi day, got up at 7am to tape her mouth and wrap in ropes. ‘You should not do it son.’ Helpless father of mine, pleaded but a monster was inside me, of practicality, of needs and desires. Without switching on the fog lights or any other lights, sneaked out my Maruti 800 from garage to park it, kissing my main door. ‘Son please, think once again, after all….’ Before he could continue, I banged car doors, loud enough to scare away the garland boy on cycle. ‘He deserves hell’, he must have said on seeing me ruthlessly stuffing her on the backseat. Minutes later, I was on the Delhi roads where everyone seem to drive, as if they are driving for the last time or if Katrina is on the other side, waiting for them n***d.
A Sakoda honking from behind, Swift took blunt right, rickshaw coming straight and an auto almost touching on left, enjoying ‘tujhe mein rab dikhta hain yaara mein kya karu’ from my car’s stereo, looking at me. My cousin, an accomplice on the left seat trying permutations and combinations of four words, love, kiss, miss and you with you allowed to repeat as many times as it can; to SMS a new SMS to his GF. Inside the auto, sat a few females with laptops disgusted on seeing the harassed sitting behind me. Soon traffic signal one km away turned green, I focused on the road. Finally surviving all the Dhoom’s and Schumacher clan people, I reached the exchange point, parking my car in nearby vicinity among others.
While walking up to the convicts, flashbacks of happy time flashed. She was so young, smoothest surface and sharp features but six years back. Believer of Darwin’s theory I realized, since there is someone slimmer, trendier and beautiful in my life, its time to bid adieu with the ex. But it wasn’t so easy, the first **** movie, weird places we visited and all those promises I made on her, kept clogging my mind. But I was conscienceless just like people in NCRs who treat rape victims like lost election candidates, ‘Ah she also lost, sad’. Apart from being conscienceless I was also driven by gluttony, just like DP who swears to be with you and for you but only to loot you, and degrade you making you bribe them. Isn’t it making a convention? OH A COP, JUST BRIBE HIM.
‘She seems worn out, how much you want.’ The potbelly with more hair in his nose than head, stripping her cover shouted out loud. His subordinates dealing with buyers asking for their preferences ‘local or international, young or old, virgin or secondhand and for how many weeks or forever’. Shamelessly, they striped her naked to examine every asset on and inside. Like inactive and aloof citizens, I watched it all but never uttered a word, not a single word.
‘Bolo Sir, kitna, aap batao? Aapka maal hain?’ Putting his dirty and greased hands over her body, he grinned. But I was a novice in the market.
‘How much you generally take?’ Words dried inside but I somehow asked.
‘Your bitch, you say.’
‘Still’ after haggling for a while, for my old desktop machine a price was decided. I sold my baby, my first machine bought during school to those Nehru Place butchers, who will probably rip it apart and sell its parts just like organs of poor are sold. Clinching Gandhi in hand, I came out of the complex to find my CAR gone.
‘Dude where’s my car?’ I asked a security guard in blue.
‘DP took it.’ He grinned, they also wanted their share.
A Sakoda honking from behind, Swift took blunt right, rickshaw coming straight and an auto almost touching on left, enjoying ‘tujhe mein rab dikhta hain yaara mein kya karu’ from my car’s stereo, looking at me. My cousin, an accomplice on the left seat trying permutations and combinations of four words, love, kiss, miss and you with you allowed to repeat as many times as it can; to SMS a new SMS to his GF. Inside the auto, sat a few females with laptops disgusted on seeing the harassed sitting behind me. Soon traffic signal one km away turned green, I focused on the road. Finally surviving all the Dhoom’s and Schumacher clan people, I reached the exchange point, parking my car in nearby vicinity among others.
While walking up to the convicts, flashbacks of happy time flashed. She was so young, smoothest surface and sharp features but six years back. Believer of Darwin’s theory I realized, since there is someone slimmer, trendier and beautiful in my life, its time to bid adieu with the ex. But it wasn’t so easy, the first **** movie, weird places we visited and all those promises I made on her, kept clogging my mind. But I was conscienceless just like people in NCRs who treat rape victims like lost election candidates, ‘Ah she also lost, sad’. Apart from being conscienceless I was also driven by gluttony, just like DP who swears to be with you and for you but only to loot you, and degrade you making you bribe them. Isn’t it making a convention? OH A COP, JUST BRIBE HIM.
‘She seems worn out, how much you want.’ The potbelly with more hair in his nose than head, stripping her cover shouted out loud. His subordinates dealing with buyers asking for their preferences ‘local or international, young or old, virgin or secondhand and for how many weeks or forever’. Shamelessly, they striped her naked to examine every asset on and inside. Like inactive and aloof citizens, I watched it all but never uttered a word, not a single word.
‘Bolo Sir, kitna, aap batao? Aapka maal hain?’ Putting his dirty and greased hands over her body, he grinned. But I was a novice in the market.
‘How much you generally take?’ Words dried inside but I somehow asked.
‘Your bitch, you say.’
‘Still’ after haggling for a while, for my old desktop machine a price was decided. I sold my baby, my first machine bought during school to those Nehru Place butchers, who will probably rip it apart and sell its parts just like organs of poor are sold. Clinching Gandhi in hand, I came out of the complex to find my CAR gone.
‘Dude where’s my car?’ I asked a security guard in blue.
‘DP took it.’ He grinned, they also wanted their share.
