Part-Time Devdaas... Read Online Free PDF Page B

said.
    “I missed you too… was just busy hating life.”
    We sat in the car.
    “You look so fucking fit. Your filmy friends are getting to you?”
    I laughed. “What happened to you? You look like Raunak Uncle’s bonsai version.”
    We laughed.
    The amount of things I had missed out on in the past years was unbelievable. I parked the car outside Cafe Gulshan in Matunga. The kheema pav and bun maska was our staple diet during college days.
    ‘Milds right?’ He asked as he bought a pack of cigarettes.
    ‘No, I’ve quit!’ I smiled.
    ‘You are fucking with me, aren’t you?’
    ‘No, I’m serious. i ts been nine months now.’
    ‘Fuck, who is doing all this to you man!’
    Lambu the waiter recognised us as we entered. I wondered who would name a four-feet-tall man Lambu. Whoever did so was cruel. We sat at our old corner table.
    “ Do kheema, char bun maska, do Thumbs u p,” Raghu ordered.
    Lambu repeated the order in a squeaky voice and left.
    Back in the days, we called it the durbean table . It had a clear view of the main gate of the college across the road. We used to rate girls on ten and then those girls would have the privilege of getting hit on by us after college. Every morning before going to college, Gul ki cutting chai with the daily update on the girls was a must.
    “Six, Nine, full ten, and four,” Raghu murmured as he stared at the girls walking out of the gate. I smiled.
    “Long time man,” he said reminiscing our days. I nodded my head.
    “So... tell me about her,” I said noticing his ring. Radhika had told me about his engagement.
    Lambu came back with our order.
    “She is lovely...” he lit a cigarette. “Really nice, you know after all the Poojas and Priyankas and the XYZs, I really needed a Ruchika,” he said as the smoke escaped out of his nostrils and mouth. There was a glint in his eyes when he spoke about her.
    “After a while I figured I was incapable of finding myself a real girl to marry, so I just got it arranged,” he shrugged and pushed the cigarette into the ash tray.
    This came from a guy who seven years ago in a drunken debate with some random guys at the adjoining table at Pyaasa had declared, “Jis din iss Raghuvir Joshi ne khudko arranged marriage ke hawale kar diya, usi din is gand pe Chutiya tattoo kar dena...” pointing to his bare white ass.
    “She is like my anchor, she like completely neutralizes me when I get out of hand.” h e began to laugh.
    “I’m really happy for you man.” I was glad that God had made someone to tame this crazy bastard.
    “When is the wedding?” I said.
    “23 December,” he smiled wryly.
    “Wow, that’s close!” I called for the bill.
    “I’m so happy you are back. I would have shot you had you missed the wedding like you missed Shashank’s.” He slapped my hand.
    “Where is he?” I asked as I picked up the bill.
    “Bangalore. Fuck, he is bloody pissed at you.”
    “He should be, for if it were me, I would have slaughtered him.” I paid the bill.
    “He is coming on the 21 st . Let’s do something.”
    “ Pakka. ”
    As we came out of the cafe, we caught each other staring at the girls at the college gate.
    “Good old days!” he said.
    “Good old days!” I repeated after him and sat in the car.
     

T he noise of falling utensils woke me up in the morning. Two pigeons had rampaged the kitchen. I fought them with a frying pan in a half-sleep half-scared state. After winning the war, I came back to the bedroom and sat on the bed trying to restart my brain. Reality hit me hard. I had broken up with her. I would never get to see her again. I checked my cell phone; three missed calls from mom and Radhika each, and a message from Dad. Nothing from Hrida. It was really over. The riot in my head broke out again and not knowing how to deal with it, I went back to sleep.
    At four in the evening, sleep finally decided to give up on me and I was left staring at the ceiling fan. I wondered if it could hypnotise me and