Comedy of Confusions

20. Krish: Baba

Krish was hungry. His last meal were a few bananas following the bare breakfast with Dan the previous day. He had placed an order for his usual bread but for some reason a rookie delivery person was having a problem locating his address. After three phone calls and his own inexperience in the navigation department in a relatively new city, Krish was not very happy. The last thing he wanted to spend his time and energy was a telephone conversation on landmarks he was completely unaware of. Finally the rookie delivery guy asked his patron to step out and help him locate. Krish saw the futility of the whole exercise, but his hunger was beyond help and he needed that hunk of bread.

He stepped out to wait for the delivery person. A few minutes of pacing up and down, he lit a cigarette, all the while keeping an eye for potential delivery folks. From a distance he spotted someone on a moped stop right by the main gate. The person whipped open his phone and it looked like he was trying to call someone.

Krrish's phone rang, it was a delivery person but the call did not go through.

It just be him. Krish discarded his cigarette and approached the moped man.

The moped man totally ignored Krish and stuck his eyes on the main door, as if he was waiting for someone.

"Excuse me" Krish tried to grab the attention of the moped man. Krish also noticed the package on the moped man. The packaging was different but it is not the first time stores change packaging material they use. "Delivery for Krish?" Krish continued hesitantly.

"No, delivery for me" came a voice from behind. Wild child

Krish turned around. Indeed it was the Wild Child. "My Appa" She received the package. "My dad".

The moped guy smiled wide. Krish noticed him beyond his helmet. An older man with a genial smile, thick dark framed pair of glasses that toned down the glint in his eyes and a small graying mustache. He reminded Krish of someone who meant everything to him a long time ago. His throat went dry. Baba. His heart started racing.

"Appa, my boss" She casually continued the introduction.

"Same one?" The moped man asked knowingly.

Krish, oblivious to the conversation, could only stare at the familiar dark frame of glasses and the graying mustache.

"You thanked him on our behalf ?" the moped man asked his daughter. The daughter stammered an excuse. The moped man shook his head in disapproval and turned towards Krish.

"Thank you so much sir for the ride yesterday. We were very worried. She is only a kid and this was the first time she was away from the city on her own."

Wild child snapped. "Yeah yeah Appa, you ought to go now"

The moped guy continued nonchalantly. " so, please accept gratitude from our whole family Sir." The last word had a strange twang and sounded like Saar. It took Krish a few seconds to interpret it. It was Sir. The familiarity that briefly warmed up his heart stopped with the glasses and mustache. Voice, accent, everything else was different. His beloved Baba was gone, never to return. The moped guy's hand was outstretched. Disregarding the lump in his throat Krish shook the outstretched hand.

"Krish". He identified himself. He was not some Sir or Saar as it sounded.

"Pleased to meet you Krish Sir." The older man shook hands vigorously. If gratitude was measured by the vigor of handshake, it was easily 200% right there but the older man was not done. But Krish sir, what was with that ?

"Krish" Krish repeated again. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the wild child smirk, reminding him of a similar conversation with her. His highness, emperor, slave.. what not.