Its been a month that I chanced upon the magical world of Manik and Nandini. It's such a pity that the personal equations between the cast turned so sour that an epic story of love and friendship had to untimely die out. However, I feel they (Manik...
Halfway on his way to home, right in the middle of a busy street, Manik suddenly hit the brakes. Where was he going?
'Home?!'.."Yeah right!!!" he screamed to himself "Home...bloody home, where no fucking person waits for me." The cars behind him, started honking. Some even changed lanes and while speeding past Manik's car, lowered their windows to hurl abuses at him.
But as reckless as only Manik could be, he turned his car around and drove down the expressway, not knowing where he was headed.
He had lost track of time. His cell, lying on the seat next to his, was ringing for the 5th time. He gave a customary glance & saw his dad's name flashing. Manik turned away and continued driving.
Hours later, when he got to a point where he just couldn't pull through anymore, tired of running, he stopped in front of one of those dubious pubs on the Mumbai - Pune express way. Getting out of the car, he walked in to the bar, leaving his mobile behind. It was uncannily dark inside, and coming from broad daylight, he was momentarily blinded.
He wore a straight face, with no traces of the bygone storm on it and as he made his way past the rows of drunken men and woman, a swarm of eyes turned towards his painfully handsome self.
He sat at the bar and ordered a pint of beer.
As soon as the overfriendly bartender placed a bottle in front of him, he gulped it down in one go. They were playing music, some peppy track may be. May be.. Because he could barely hear. The buzz inside his ears was too strong to let any external sound in. And the more they buzzed with blames and curses, the more fiercely he burnt from within. The tracks kept on changing, and by the time, Manik had finished his third straight bottle of bear, this song began playing.
By now, he was intoxicated and the song didn't help. His grip on himself was loosening, his guards were low, the buzz had quietened down and grief was making its way through his veins. He missed music....he missed his friends....he missed her. He missed those brief periods in his life when he lived like a carefree bird. What had become of him, where was he heading, who was he? Mrs Moorthy's words had struck him deeper than he had thought they would. For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to show a middle finger at them, like he had done all his life to the nasty adjectives thrown at him.
This bloody business of being good was looming heavy on him. Yes it was bloody, it sucked all his blood, and yet at the end of the day he stood accused of deception.
HE loved her, damn he loved her with every cell of his existence and he was ready to shout that down from the rooftop..but no one believed. No one believed that he could love too, that he was vulnerable and innocent and hurting. Every time she had fallen weak, he had stood by her like her rock, but where was she now when he was falling, why wasn't she here hugging him and assuring him that none of what Amms had told him was true. Didn't she always tell him that he was her angel, then why wasn't she telling it today, when he wanted to hear it most.
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