And a story begins part II

“Here we are, alright, I will see you later” Suhas said as he slowed down his car in front of his apartment building.

“Alright man, see you later” I said as I got down the car.

“Good evening sir” said the security guard as I crossed the gate. Holy hell, I have been here for more than 6 months and I don’t know this guy’s name. That is so not me. What is wrong with me?

Good evening sir, I mumbled as I walked towards the lift lobby.

I don’t know what is going on with me. I am not the person that I used to be, that is for sure, but what went wrong? Was it my inability to earn something decent every month? Or was it my inability to keep her happy? All she wanted for me to do was to buy her stuffs. That is all. Everything was fine when we started off. Yeah, that seems to be the story for everyone when it starts. Everything is rosy and nice in the beginning and then everything goes for a toss. The very thing that attracted you to that person becomes something that you just can’t stand. Am I looking for a reason or an excuse for my inability to do anything? I don’t know, I really don’t know. Now that she is far away and have not seen her for a long time, I think I better get into shape.

The lift door opened. It was the 7th floor and I was supposed to go the 5th floor. I had forgotten to press the damn button. The uncle who got off on the 7th floor gave me this are-you-on-drugs look. Everyone seems to have a problem with me. Now, where is that 5th floor button?

Alone in the house and nothing to do, I start to look around. What can I do to make my brain not think? Should I start packing? Should I cook? What? Why can’t I think straight? Alright let’s start packing, at least few things. May be a few boxes will not do any harm. I had walked in with 6 boxes, a suitcase, a backpack and a laptop bag when I came to this house. Two of the boxes remained unopened till today. I really don’t know what it holds inside. Sceptical of what is inside those two boxes, I begin to wonder what can be inside those boxes. Does it contain anything that will remind me of her or the days that we spent together? What?

Damn it, just open the damn box and see it for yourself.

Alright, let’s do this. It isn’t going to kill me.

-----

Hey dude, what happened? Suhas’s voice was feeble but I could hear him.

Hey dude, what happened? Suhas shouted and shook me up.

Huh, what? Nothing man. I was just sitting. When did you come? I asked; looking around to see where I was and what the hell happened.

I just stepped in, how long have you been sitting in the chair and staring at that picture? Suhas asked pointing his finger at the picture which I was holding.

I don’t know, may be a while. I replied, trying to find a place in the box to keep the photo frame.

What time is it? I asked, as I got up to fetch a cigarette from the packet lying near the TV stand across the room.

It is eleven thirty my dear friend, what about dinner? Suhas replied clasping his hands.

Damn, I have been lost for more than three hours with that photo frame. What was I thinking? What was happening to me? Of course the photo was of me and my now ex wife, taken when we were in college. But then again, why was I so lost that I didn’t even realise the time?

Hello? Dinner? Suhas looked at me what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you look.

I don’t know man, I am not even hungry. Shall we go out and check somewhere? I replied as I lit up a cigarette.

Alright, let’s go.

---

Bangalore is a dead place by eleven thirty in the night. There is nothing that you get out here. There was only one place that we could get food for sure, shivajinagar, but that was a good forty minutes drive from whitefield. This is a city which has traffic jams at this time of the day also. The outer ring road is relatively empty compared to the choc-a-block traffic during the day. Suhas was driving and I sat in the front passenger seat as usual. The yellow street lamps were questioning why am I still yellow when everybody else is changing to the white CFL or LED? I don’t know man, ask the government. The bumpy roads asking till when will I be bumpy before you can make me smooth? I don’t know man, ask the government. The sweet sounding Maruti Alto asking where are you two idiots taking me in the middle of the night? I don’t know ask Suhas. I ain’t getting any ideas and here I am, talking to street lamps, road, and the damn car. What is wrong with me? Where is that elusive story which will make people read my book? Where can I find that idea? Who can give me that idea to write? Everywhere I look it is all so confusing. Over and above that, there are at least a billion stories that have been written. Even if I write something which I think is unique, it must have been written somewhere. I don’t know, I am just guessing.

Every time I write something, most people think that the story was my story, which means that I have been a rich spoilt brat, a beggar, a thief, a school dropout, a spy, a mechanic, a demigod and the list goes on. Why is that people just can’t accept fiction as fiction? I don’t understand that part either. Wait, hold on a minute? Should I write my own story? The one where I am the hero, the protagonist, you know. Should I? Hell no, my life story isn’t interesting at all. Who would want to read about a mediocre guy from a small town good for nothing author?

Or would it interest few people? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I got 60 days to go for me to submit a manuscript to the damn editor. Why did he sign me for two books when the first one was a mistake? It was just another I-also-can-write-a-book stuff. Damn 60 days. 60

“Dude, where are we going?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Zuri” he replied.

“The hotel in Whitefield?”

Yup

“Oh shit” I murmured, making sure that he cannot hear.

60 days and I don’t have anything to write. Not able to get a grip on things happening around me and I am supposed to write a god damn story in 60 days.

“I cannot do it” I said as Suhas drove pass the gate of the hotel gate.

“What?” Suhas gave me a quizzical look.

“I give up, I cannot write anything anymore. I just cannot write. I cannot think straight. How do you expect me to write anything in 60 days? How?” I started to scream inside the car.

“Hello, Relax da, chill, it will be alright. You just need some time” Suhas started.

“Time; that is only bloody thing that I don’t have on my side, my friend” I said as I got down the car.

“Dude, you need get over her, you need to meet someone else” Suhas said as he handed over his car keys to the valet.

“Yeah, yeah, meet someone. With my kind of luck, I see a one in a billion probability”

 “Alright, just for tonight, let’s not talk about anything which happened in the past. Let us not talk about you and me. Let us just have some drinks and eat some nice food. Tomorrow is a new day, you can start to think what to do from tomorrow onwards but for now, please, let us enjoy a few hours, and these guys open only till one AM.” Suhas was at his methodical best.

Alright then, 60 days countdown starts from tomorrow.

As we walked in, heading towards the lift in the lobby, I caught a poster on a poster stand. It was placed at the entrance of the lobby. It was a poster of a book launch which happened that afternoon.

“Holy moly smokes mother of god. Oh fuck” I screamed.

Suhas was stunned for some time. “What the hell happened?”

“Dude, I got this. You know why I am not able to get any ideas about my book?”

Ah why?

“Because I have not read that many stories, I can say that I don’t read at all. There is only one book that I have finished in my entire life. Beyond that I have not read anything by any author. Nope, nothing else. So, how can I get any ideas if I am not reading anything anywhere? How can I just plug ideas from a place and put it on paper? If I had read those many books, maybe I could have garnered some ideas from someone’s story, you see. I may be wrong but I think my lack of idea generation is because I don’t read at all.”

“So, what are you doing to do?” Suhas quipped.

“I freaking don’t know” I said as I sat down on the chair.

To be continued.