Till death do us part

Alright,
My last post was in March 2012 where I did speak about being regular on this blog. Talk about being regular eh? I am back here after more than a year. Last year I was blogging only on the internal blog site of my then office. It was THE place for me to rant about everything and anything that happened in office. Now that I am no more with that organisation and I am free to rant in the open world, here I am; to rant, you see.

Before we go ahead with anything. Here is my first post of this year (2013). This is a short story that I wrote a while ago. This has already been published in my earlier blog in my earlier office. So, people who have read this will know.

I hope you like it :D
Leave your comments if your don't like it.

This story is bollywood in my style. He he. 

And I am pretty sure that there is going to be a lot of mistakes coz I don't proof read.

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, any resemblance is purely co-incidental

A frail sound from an electric guitar was slowly being carried by the winds. It was getting louder by each wave of wind that came by and then it would fade away. It would come by at the same time every day. The locality was already used to that sound. It had become sort of a clock for them, for they would know that it was 4 in the evening when the sound would start. It was not loud neither it was too feeble. It always felt that as if it was coming from some distance away. No one wanted to find out who was playing since it was coming from the direction of the ‘big house’. The ‘big house’ was the common name given by the people to the house owned by the richest person in the area, in fact, he was the richest in the state. Known as doctor sahib, he owned a major pharmaceutical company. Though he barely lived there, it was his son who was always there. The house would host a lot of people on most occasions. It was the cynosure of all eyes.

The guitar sound did not come for 2 days. Something happened. No one knew what happened but there were rumors that doctor sahib had passed away in a hospital in Mumbai. By that evening, the news slowly trickled in from the ‘big house’ that the doctor sahib had indeed passed away. He was all of 44 and left the young 14 year old Munx all alone, who had lost his mother when she gave birth to him. Munx never knew his mother and what is it like to have a mother. His father was both his parents. Growing up without a mother and now left without a father, Munx did not know what to do. At such a young age, no one would expect him to take care of his father’s fledging business empire. He was always aloof and never had much of interaction with his father either. His only companion at all times was the guitar that his father gave him for his 13th birthday. Ever since that day, he was with his guitar, singing and playing. It was his best friend.

According to his father’s will, Munx cannot run the business till he turns 18.

-------------

“Aeeeee, I can’t write like this!!” Munx screamed. What happened? No I cannot write like this, it is just not me.

“But it is your story” his trainer opined.

“Yeah I know but I don’t want to write in all flowery and from a third person perspective. I want to write it the way I want to” Munx retorted.

“Alright, go ahead” his trainer said.

Now, where were we?

Oh yeah, after my dad passed away, I was not allowed to take care of the business, some corporate rule and stuff. I did not even care, I only wanted to play the guitar and become like Joe Satriani. I did not have any problems for money and I could get almost everything that I wanted, but I decided not to. I wanted to be known for who I am and not as my father’s son. That was the time I decided to move out of the house and live in the garage. My uncle was against it but I was adamant and I am my father’s son, I won the argument. My garage was the best place for me. I could jam for hours and with super loud volume. Take out my anger by destroying or burning and stuff. It was all cool.

One day, my good friend from the neighborhood, Dave, heard me playing my guitar. He said I should try my hands in playing for the school band. What? Do they require a guitar player? I asked. Yeah, he said. The next day, I gave my audition in front of the rest of the band. They were 3 of them. Drummer Subo, Singer Bruce and bassist Satish. I played one song and no one spoke. After that they asked me to play another. Still no one spoke. Then Bruce asked me since when have I been playing the guitar. I said about a year or so. “And you have an Ibanez guitar? Where did you get that?” he asked. Yeah, my dad gave me this for my birthday. “Damn, lucky you man, you got a rich dad”, he quipped.

“Dude, you are the best guitar player that I have ever heard” Subo said. “You are in” he added. All of them were in the science section of 11th standard and I was in arts. I became a part of the school’s secondary band, the main band being the guys from the 12th standard. Ever since that day, we pretty much played in every gig in school functions and in the weekend concerts in town. Music became my soul and the three of them my closest friends.

For the next 2 years we played together in every other concert where we could play. It did not matter how many people came to see us, we just played. We won the best band award in 5 major festivals in the state and 2 outside the state. I won the best guitarist in about 8 festivals. One magazine even compared me to the great Joe Satriani, they said I was India’s answer to him. Which I think was pretty lame. All these while we played cover numbers and never could really make music of our own. At the later part of our school life, we decided to compose some songs in memory of the school. That experiment turned out to be a disaster. The creative struggle was too much for everyone to take. I wanted a bluesy guitar riffs while the singer wanted to sing ballad. At first, I thought that there will be a way out of this ego fights and that we will be finally able to create a song.

We were heading nowhere; there were lyrics but no song progression. In fact, there was nothing. Now, like it was meant to happen, we finally clicked on a song after much deliberation and after about 2 months of fighting. We all liked it and we agreed on the sound and the style that we wanted to be known for. It was done. We recorded 4 songs as a demo cassette and then we started playing these songs wherever we could. We were quickly signed by a local label and earned the first penny from a song that was ours. We were getting famous and earning before we could finish school.

One record company from Bombay approached us after hearing us. Their idea was simple, they wanted to own us. They wanted to sign us for the next 20 years, which meant that every song that we made and everything else that we did, these guys would earn something out of it. I was completely against it. I was never in for the money; it was all about the music and taking it to the people who can relate to us. I never wanted fame. The other thing that bothered me was my father’s business which I was entitled to run as soon as I turn 18 and it was closing in on me real fast. I told the three of them that I would not play or be dictated by a record company. I want freedom in what I want to do, I am sure that they would ask us to play in a sound that they want. I told them to go ahead with another guitar player if they want to be signed by the company. To which they said, they are going ahead with that option and leaving me out. I said ok to that and decided never to see them.

I carried on with my life. My guitar was always with me. I entered college, decided not to take up my father’s business. I began a life which I did not know where it was going. I was travelling across the country, meeting people, playing with them, learning from them, and doing everything that I could. It was all good until I realized that I need money to keep myself alive and I did not want my father’s money. Then it happened to me, I entered the corporate life. Not knowing what was in store for me, I took every single day as it came. My life took a double u turn sideways. I sold my guitar and gear to survive in between. I had to sell it someone whom I knew. Luck was on my side as I found someone who I knew who wanted to buy my stuff.

Corporate life beat the crap out of me, left, right and center. I was lost completely, not able to understand anything that was going on, I did what was told to me. Now, it has been 10 years and I have reached nowhere and I don’t even know where I am going. In the meantime, the three of them hired one more guitar player and formed a band, which was signed by the record company from Mumbai. They have been playing for the last 12 years ever since I left. They are very famous now; they are one of the big acts in the Indian rock scene now. I have not spoken to them for the last 12 years. Life sucks would be an understatement. What the hell am I doing and what is happening to me? Two questions that I could never answer. Whatever

The company that I work for turns ten this year and there is a huge celebration planned. It is going to be the regular dance, song, dance, speech, awards, and dance routine. This is the usual sequence of events in every function this company. This year was not going to be different.

So, the stage was set. Wait a minute, this year it looks a tad different. The sound system looks different. There are too many speakers for a dance and speech show I thought. One glance at the sound booth and I knew that there was going to be a large scale music concert. One after the other the events started to unfold. After everything was done, it was time for the main event. The MC did not announce what was coming up, she just said, it is a surprise.

The stage lights went off and everybody began to wonder what is going to happen. Then a voice spoke. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, how are you doing? Well, today you will get to see one of India’s finest rock bands perform here for you, but before that, I would like to tell you a story, a story about a man who believed in what he wanted to do. He was a brilliant guitarist. He was India’s answer to the great Joe Satriani. He was my friend” the announcement was happening and I knew that it was Bruce on the microphone. What the hell are these guys doing here? I began to think and as I was thinking hard to decipher, they started showing pictures of me on the projector, pictures of me with the guitar, on the stage, running around. These were taken almost 10-12 years ago and I don’t even look the same.

“We have been searching him for the last 12 years and finally we came to know that this man is today working with you guys in this office. Do you know this man?”  No one could figure out. Then the searchlight came on and Bruce made his way on to the stage. I could hardly recognize him.

His name is Munx and he is an employee of this company. Do we have Munx here? He announced and people who knew me started to look for me. I was standing in one corner of the hall and never wanted to be found.

Bemused and rattled, I stood there frozen, not knowing what to do. Should I run? Should I hide? What should I do? Multiple indecisive thoughts wrangling in the brain, they found me. The search light was on me. “There he is, my friend, and one of the founding members of this band” Bruce continued to blabber on the microphone as I slowly dragged myself towards the stage.

I managed to reach the stage along with the glare and surprise stares of almost everyone. As I stepped up, Bruce hugged me and along came Satish and Subo. The other dude also hugged me; I did not even know him.

Bruce: How are you my friend?

Me: ah, good. (Still trying to figure out what was going on)

Bruce: So, finally we found you my man, you have been hiding, haven’t you. (Trying to be funny)

Me: No dude, I have been around.

Bruce: Ladies and gentleman, not many of you will know that Munx is a founding member of this band and one of the best guitarists that you can ever find. Has anyone heard him play?

No one has heard me dude, I murmured, looking down and trying to find a hole to get into.

Bruce: Alright, we came here, all the way, to give this guy a surprise and to play with him one more time. You up for it, buddy?

Me: Dude, I haven’t played in years. And I don’t have a guitar.

Bruce: Do you remember that? (Pointing at a guitar placed near the drums)

Me: I am not sure.

Bruce: Check it out.

It was my guitar which was near the drums and my gear placed near the microphone stand. Nostalgia struck and I was meeting with my beloved guitar after a long time. Everything flashed before me, Dad, school, the days, the concerts, and everything. Something told me, just play and you will be fine. Days of drudging in front of the computer and days of getting scolded and days of sleepless nights; it was time for redemption. Bruce helped me sling the guitar around my neck, connected the cables, and showed me the place where the amps and my guitar processors were placed. I walked towards it and everybody started to scream. Here I was; this laid back dude with nothing credible to show off in office, slinging on a guitar, invited on stage by the best band in the country, who would have thought. I was at the center of attraction, people were eagerly waiting for me to play and see how I play.

“Are you ready dude? We are doing your favorite song first” Bruce whispered to me. I looked at him and shrugged my shoulder telling him what is going on. The other guitar player started the song; the song was “Always with me, always with you” by Joe Satriani. For 5 seconds I did not know what to do, I have forgotten everything. I signaled him to keep playing the same verse for 3 times until I was ready. Then everything came back to me, just like that. I played for another 45 minutes and I was completely in a world which I always belonged to. I was in trance.

I was supposed to get back to my shift after the concert. I did not realize that I was late for my shift. I hurriedly got back to my floor and there he was the most hated person on this planet. My boss!

It was another usual session with my boss, where he told me how bad I was at time management and how much of work was pending which I have to finish and the list went on. My life sucked, big time. I wanted to be with the band for some more time. Catch up with those famous guys and see how the world has changed. Freak, I can’t even think straight.

That’s it; that is my story. I can’t write more.

Here, let me read it. The trainer pulled up the sheet and started to read. She was reading it aloud for the whole class to listen to. Damn, what is wrong with people? Creative writing class sucks.

She was done reading after 10 minutes and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Was it your real story?” Rita asked me, who was seated on my right. I caught her eyes and could not utter a word.

Ah what?

Was that your real story?

What? No! It is not. What? Me? A guitar wizard, son of a super-rich dad who left me a company to run, na, not even close. It is not my story, I just made that up.

What? You made that up? No way!!

Yeah I did make that up.

But how does it sound so much real? Every word seems so real!!

That, I don’t know, I just wrote it. I was asked to write “My story”, I wrote an imaginary story.

Hmm, something is fishy here. I somehow don’t believe that you made that up.

Umm yeah, I did make that up, believe it or not.

I don’t believe you and I will never believe that you made that story up. I will find out about you.

What? Why are you so hell bent on thinking that I did not make that story up?

Because you are weird and mysterious, and there is something which does not connect the dots here.

What? What dots are you trying to connect?

That’s for me to find out.

You will not find a thing.

Let’s see, what’s your phone number?

What? Why do you want my phone number?

Just like that, I am your friend na.

No way, I don’t even know you.

Well, don’t you want to have new friends? Now, give me your number.

Who are you?

You know my name, Rita. Now, give me your number.

Are you this adamant, always?

Yeah, I am. Now, number

Alright, here 97^%^$&#@^

Thanks, I will call you.

Eh? Why? I just know you in this class.

Will see, you never know what is in store for you Munx

Foxy lady, you remind me of someone whom I used to know. You sound like her.

Hmm, then find out who am I and I dig up your story, shall we?

Whatever!

--------

3 hours later,

Hello

Hello

Where are you?

Who is this?

Rita

Oh hi, I am at home.

Where is that?

Near the big market.

Give me the address

Why?

I am coming over, be prepared, I have something for you, your dirty past, I have dug it up all.

What? What is going on?

Chill man, I am sending something by courier. Need your address.

Hmmm ok.

So, what else is happening?

Nothing, just sitting at home.

Alright, bye, see you.

Parcel? Courier? Something? What? Dug up my past? What is this girl up to? Who is she? Why is she behind my life? God help! Oh yeah, the creative writing class is over, I don’t have to see her tomorrow or ever. Next time she calls, I won’t pick up her call. Done!!

Next day evening,

An envelope was delivered at my address. I opened it and it was a greeting card. I saw the card and it was my handwriting. What? How did she get this? Questions running amok, the doorbell rang. I opened and Rita was standing at the door.

Hi, did you get the card?

Yes

Can I come in?

Yes

What does it say?

It is in my handwriting and I wrote this for someone I knew.

Who?

Priya, but how did you get this? I gave this to Subo and he told me that he never gave this to Priya and now you have this with you. I mean what is going on? Who are you? How did you get this?

Well, what does it read?

This was my proposal card for Priya, I don’t even know where she is, and this contains all the freaking love song lyrics that I could conjure up during those days. It was the most stupid way of proposing a girl but that was the “in-thing” then. I am not reading it, but how in the world did you get a hold of this? Who are you?

Well, it did reach the person to whom you wanted to give it to. It was sure a tough thing to find you Munx boy.

“Munx boy”, Priya used to call me that.

What? Priya? You? But your name is Rita? How is that possible?

12 years changes a lot Munx boy. Ever since I got that card, I have been trying to search you. No one is at your home to tell me where you are, you left everyone and everything. Your three friends in the band have been searching for you and they did find you at last. I would not have known it is you if you had not written that story in the class.

Oh boy!!

Yeah oh boy and how glad am I that I met you after all these years! How have you been?

I don’t know what to say! I never thought that I would meet you again. Yeah, I have been doing ok. Got a job, just hanging on to it, not much happening in life, surviving would be the right word. Sit.

You live alone here?

Yeah, so, how have you been Priya?

Not bad, just doing alright.

Married?

No, not yet.

Hmmm, boyfriend?

Yeah, but he does not know that I love him.

Eh? What sort of a guy is that?

Yeah, what sort of a guy proposes and vanishes for 12 years?

-----

“What did he say after that?” Manisha, my 24 year old daughter asked me.

What would he say? He just looked at me and stood motionless. He just did not say anything. He then slowly came up to me and embraced me. That said it all for me.

“Wow, it sounds like a story straight out of a Bollywood movie” Manisha continued.

“Hmm, lots of people say that. Your father being the only son of a big business man, rich family, left him a fortune which your father never even touched, a man who wanted to stand on his feet, a superbly gifted guitar player, vanishes for 12 years, and we finally meet. Yes, it does sound like a masala Bollywood movie but that is your parent’s story my dear” I said.

“What happened to grandpa’s business then?” Manisha asked again. She won’t stop.

“Hmm, that!! Your grand uncle runs it. The headache tablet that you normally take is made by that company. The company is in your father’s name though, he is the real owner, and your grand uncle just runs it.”

“How come no one told me about this?”

“You never asked and your father never wanted you to know until you are mature enough to know and judge things”

“Where is he? He is late and I am hungry ma” she continued

“He must be on his way, call his school and check if he has already left” I said as I started to lay out the table for dinner.

“He left an hour ago ma. He cancelled his last class and left early it seems” Manisha said.

“He must be up to something, I know your father” I began to place the plates on the table.

After a while, Munx turned up and headed straight to the bathroom as usual. Nothing was unusual. He hugged me and Manisha as he would normally do. Nothing looked even remotely unusual but I somehow knew that he was up to something.

“So Dad, when did you propose ma?” Manisha asked.

That caught him off guard and he immediately released that mother and daughter has been talking.

“Hmm, did she not tell you the story of the card?” he said.

“Yeah, she told me everything about it, but why could just not walk up to her and say?” Manisha said with a surprise.

“That was the in-thing those days baby, plus I never had the courage to walk up to this gorgeous woman and tell her that I love her” he said as he stood up and started to walk towards me.

“And finally when we met after 12 years, that was it, I did tell her I love her and asked her to marry me a year later, and it has been 25 years, and I am going to ask her to marry me again” and he knelt on one knee and took my hand.

“Priya, will you please marry me?” and added “Again” after a pause.

I said yes and Manisha was quick enough to get her camera out and capture this moment.

“May be she should become a photographer” Munx said as he sat down on the bed after dinner.

“Do you think so?” I asked.

“I don’t know, let her do what she likes to do” and he is ready to sleep. Almost

“She is your daughter, she will do what she wants, you don’t have to worry about her, and she will find a way to survive” I said as I tucked myself in next to him.

“Hmmm, Priya, do you believe that it has been 25 years since we married each other?” Munx said.

“I don’t know how I have put up with you all these while” I smiled.

“Promise me you will stay another 25?” he replied.

“Till death do us part, darling” I closed my eyes.

——-

What? That’s it? That’s the end of the story? What a ridiculous ending that is! How can you end a story like that? Is this what you have been writing all these while? You said you are writing a mega story with twists and turns, love, lust and what not, and this is what you come up with? How am I supposed to print this, it is not even 20 pages. And you say you are done? You can’t write anymore. Listen, I run a publication and I have some reputation in the market. If I cannot get one more novel from you, I am ruined. There is a lot at stake here. Do you even understand? Are you listening?

Saurab was livid after reading through the first 16 pages of the story. Mahesh had expressed his inability to continue with the story anymore. He was not in his right frame of mind. The truth was, he was actually running out of story ideas. Whatever he has written so far has been about things that has happened either with him or around him. He wasn’t travelling anywhere to pick up stories and ideas. He wasn’t meeting people regularly; he was at his aloofness best.

Yeah, I am listening Saurab, Mahesh replied slowly, trying not to reply in the same tone and pitch as Saurab.

What are you going to do about it Mahesh? I cannot take this; it is unacceptable by any standards.

I need some more time Saurab.

How long?

At least 6 months.

Alright, you have 6 months, and in 6 months if I don’t get a decent story from you, I will make sure that you are ruined for the rest of your life, I have had it with you and your attitude. Give me this one freaking novel and we are done, I will cancel the contract and you will be a free man. Now, get out and don’t show me your face for the next 6 months.

Mahesh walked out of that office, lit a cigarette and thought to himself.. Six months is a long time.