Hasan Sharif
While entering his cubicle, Joy Banerjee glanced at Nupur Choudhury’s desk from the corner of his eye. It was beyond a couple of rows of other cubicles. Yet he could see the empty black chair in Nupur’s. The chair was facing outward, facing the corridor that ran in between the rows of cubicles. The computer monitor on Nupur’s desk was pitch black. She never left her monitor on a screensaver.
Joy obviously looked only for a fraction of a second. He didn’t want to get caught looking at a female colleague’s desk by some inquisitive eyes. He took in the information like a camera snaps a photograph with a shutter speed of a hundredth of a second. Now he took out his laptop from his backpack and placed it in the docking station on his desk. But, in his mind, he was busy processing the snapshot he took just a second ago.
He saw her black water bottle on her desk. It was impossible to know whether it was empty. He could hardly read the yellow branding on the bottle from his desk but he knew that the label on the bottle read “Forever Twenty One”. Nupur would bring this bottle with her to the pantry every morning and pour chilled water from the water purifier machine, sometimes taking a few sips from it while doing so.
Joy couldn’t see the leather backpack Nupur carried either. Nupur would leave the backpack on the right side of her desk just within the reach of her hand when she sat on her chair. On some occasions, Joy had seen her take out a lip-balm from the bag and apply it on her lips, perhaps to protect from the dryness of the inside air. When she did this, she would turn her monitor off so she could see her reflection there. He had found the scene beautiful and somewhat intimate. He remembered wishing that she did it in some privacy. He looked around to check if anyone else was seeing her.
She definitely hadn’t come into the office yet.
Sometimes she came late around lunch hours, taking advantage of the flexible work timings. Maybe today was such a day. He had hoped to see her first thing in the office. Like he did every day.
In his mind, he had played all the possible scenes of how they could meet today. There were only a few possibilities though.
In one scene, Nupur, sitting at her desk, caught him glancing at her and smiled back. He waved and moved his lips to say “How are you?”. She read his lips and mimicked him, “Fine… You?” They waved at each other.
In another scene, Nupur and he bumped into one another at the door. He was entering the office and Nupur was rushing out the door, maybe for a quick breakfast at a roadside eatery. They both smiled and made space for each other to pass through without saying a thing. The scent of her perfume wafted around. He took it in as much as he could before the scent followed her outside. Joy thanked God for being given the chance to be so close to her.
In some other scene, Nupur pretended to not see him. She kept her eyes glued on the computer monitor but he could feel she knew he was looking at her. He stood just a little longer than usual hoping she would feel his presence soon before sitting on his chair with a sharp pain in his chest.
Joy knew most of the days she pretended to not see him. Maybe she was embarrassed doing the same stuff again and again – smiling back and waving and uttering soundless words back at him. But on a few occasions when she forgot to pretend, she would smile and that would compensate for a month of being ignored.
Today none of these happened.
Joy felt thirsty. He wanted to go to the pantry for some water but still sat down on his chair and turned on his laptop.
During the next two to three hours Joy kept glancing at her desk every fifteen to twenty minutes. But after lunch he lost hope of seeing her today. He had to know if she was okay. So he went to her manager.
“Hey, Neeraj, good morning..”
Neeraj looked at him and smiled back, “Good morning, Joy…”
“How was the weekend?”
“Usual, nothing special. You?”
“Same for me.. Hey, actually you know I am waiting for the report of the scrub we did last Thursday. I was wondering if I can take care of a few of the items.”
“Okay..”
“I have not been sent the report yet though. Wasn’t Nupur supposed to send it? I would’ve asked her myself but I don’t see her online. Could someone else send it?”
Neeraj said, “I’ll tell Amrita to prepare the report. Nupur isn’t available this week.”
“That would be great..”
Joy smiled exactly the way Neeraj would expect. He strode to the pantry and pressed a button on the coffee machine holding a paper cup on the tray. He stood there for a few seconds not able to decide what to do. Then when he realised the coffee machine had stopped dripping, he spilled the coffee in the machine’s outlet and poured himself some water this time.
He leaned his back on the pantry wall, moved away from the machine, away from anyone’s gaze in a private corner, took a sip from the cup and realised he had forgotten to thank Neeraj. He should’ve said, “That would be great… Thanks Neeraj.” Instead, he had fled from the scene too quickly. Did Neeraj catch any change in his expression? Was it obvious on his face that he was blank when he heard he wouldn’t be seeing Nupur for a week?
Even last Friday Nupur chatted with him. Couldn’t she tell him she would be absent the whole of next week? What would have happened if she had decided to tell? Where was she? Was she taking a vacation? Was she unwell? Was she with her boyfriend? Did her parents know she was with her boyfriend somewhere? That she was not in office? Joy Banerjee crumpled the paper cup in his palm and threw it on its way to the recycling bin lying at one corner of the pantry. The cup dropped on the floor hitting the edge of the bin and made a small puddle around. Joy looked at it and hesitated for a moment. Then he rushed out of the pantry.
But it was less than a minute before Joy Banerjee reappeared inside the pantry. He took out some napkins from the pantry cupboard. Picking up the paper cup from the floor in one hand, he wiped off the puddle of water from the floor with the other. Then he dropped the paper cup and the wet napkins into the recycling bin before coming out of the pantry and of the building to have a smoke on the footpath of the dusty by-lane of outer ring road in Bangalore.
A few days later, on a Friday evening, with his friend Dipak, Joy Banerjee went to a pub just across the road of the SEZ where their office was located.
Joy knew Dipak from his college days. They both had graduated from a reputed engineering college in Kolkata in the same batch. Dipak had secured a placement in Bangalore when he was in his third year in the college. Joy got a job in Kolkata in his fourth year. Though they got separated after they had graduated, they again found each other working for this company in Bangalore. In fact, for Joy, meeting Dipak was one of the strong reasons to move to Bangalore besides the salary and perks this company had offered him.
They visited the Blue Lagoon pub every Friday and drank late into the night.
When they came near the pub today, Dipak said, “If you want to smoke, buy the cigarette now. Go buy.. I’ll wait.”
Joy said, “No buddy, trying to quit.”
“We’ll see. You’ll get a kick on your ass if you go out to buy cigarettes after you gulp a peg.”
“Won’t it be great if I leave you alone with Yamini?”
“You remember the red silky top she wore last week?”
“Of course! Did you check her out on Facebook?”
“Yeah, she has ten thousand followers, man!”
“Drunkards! I’m pretty sure she is the only reason people flock to this place.”
“What’s your reason?”
“I just like the ambience, you know.”
They both laughed.
They reached the Blue Lagoon. Joy Banerjee, for a moment, pictured almost naked and beautiful Brooke Shields, her breasts covered with long streaks of her brown unkempt hair, her innocent face. This happened every Friday at the entrance of the pub under the pub’s signboard lined with colourful neon lights.
Upon entering the first floor of the pub Yamini invited them both and showed them two seats in a corner. She wore a teal off-shoulder mid-length dress, her bare shoulders glowed over it.
She asked, “Whiskey first or beer first today?
Dipak said, “Your recommendations?”
She winked, “Maybe your friend has something in his mind?”
Joy smiled, “Don’t ask!”
Yamini laughed, “Okay, sending my recommendations then. ”
Joy watched Yamini, a few beads of sweat at the side of her face were caught in a hair that hung over her right ear. She sported matching teal earrings. Perhaps, they made a soft noise when they jingled. It was impossible to hear now amid all the hullabaloo going on in the pub.
Joy said, “And a pack of cigarettes please.”
Dipak made a face. Yamini knocked on the table with her knuckles and left.
Their gaze followed her. Joy Banerjee looked at the way her hips swayed when she walked. He thought he would get an erection but felt nothing. She disappeared into a corner to welcome other guests and to take orders. A picture appeared before Joy. The picture showed a small apartment somewhere in the city. The wooden front door was open. Yamini, wearing a pink sleeveless body-hugging dress, was standing just outside the door looking towards the inside of the room, her beautiful face a mix of disappointment, hurt, anger. Yamini’s husband, a chap with an unshaven beard and yellow teeth, was shouting at her, “I told you to stop doing all this.”
Yamini said, “And do what?”
The camera now panned and showed a tiny kid playing with a bay-blade on the bed.
Joy Banerjee gulped from the bottle of mineral water left at the table. He forced himself out of Yamini’s home. He wanted to not care. What if Yamini liked what she was doing? Joy felt spit forming in his mouth. He swallowed it.
Dipak said, “Do you think we can tell her to sit with us some day?”
“Never, we’ll never be able to say that.”
A waiter came with a pitcher of lager beer and a pack of cigarettes.
Joy lit up a cigarette. Leaving the lighter on the table, he asked, “What’s up with Debolina?”
Dipak poured beer into his glass and said, “Man, she is driving me crazy!”
“Still mad at you?”
“Madder.”
“Has she unblocked you on WhatsApp?”
“Not at all. I’m still blocked. Every now and then she sends me some messages and then blocks me again. I cannot send her any messages. I cannot even apologise, man!”
Joy laughed, “She is having so much fun!”
“It’s driving me crazy. Tell me what I should do!”
“Have you considered blocking her?”
“Are you mad! She will come to my home!”
“Okay, then bear with all this. Now tell me, will you ever sleep with someone’s wife again?”
“She wanted it too. Is it only my fault?”
“It is never a woman’s fault.”
“Yeah! That’s true.”
Joy Banerjee by that time was doubting if what he had said was right. If Debolina’s husband or parents knew they would definitely see the fault with Debolina only. People always blamed whoever was easier to blame.
The pub was dimly lit with red and orange lights. Loud music played on two huge floor speakers. A DJ played remixed English music. The music thumped and echoed inside the walls. A few couples moved with the rhythm in each other’s arms on the empty space near the floor speakers. Joy and Dipak looked at them. The music now was too loud to converse in a normal voice.
Dipak shouted, “Fuck, we are getting old. I want to dance too.”
Joy said, “Yes.. maybe older than we think.”
Dipak didn’t seem to hear him. Dipak shouted again, “One day I’ll tell Yamini to dance with me.”
“Shut up! Everyone knows her here,” Joy shouted.
The DJ played till ten thirty in the night. Quite a few guests left. Yamini left too. She hadn’t expected any more guests arriving at this hour.
Joy said, “Let’s call it a night bro.”
“Stay for one more round.”
“No, Shivani is waiting.”
“She knows you are drinking.”
“Yes she knows, but she will not have dinner until I’m home.”
“So much love? Huh?”
“I don’t know.. I tell her not to wait for me. Still she waits. My son waits too. Who keeps a child waiting?.. I hate it, man. Cannot even drink as long as I want. You know, it’s like they hover over my shoulders…and remind me that I should’ve been home already… Okay.. I need to go.. need to go….” Joy Banerjee babbled.
“I gladly declare you drunk, my friend. Finally.”
“Says a drunkard,” Joy got up.
“Okay good boy.. go to your loving, caring, sweet wifey. By the way, just remembered… have you heard Nupur is leaving?”
Joy thought he didn’t hear right. His head was light anyway.
He sat down again, “Nupur Chowdhury? Are you talking about Nupur Chowdhury?”
“How many Nupurs do you know?”
“She is leaving?”
“Yes, you didn’t know?”
Joy didn’t feel the lightheadedness anymore. A sharpness prevailed over his senses now.
Joy remained silent for a while. Then he said, “I might have heard something like that. Has she already left? Is she not coming back? Has she resigned already?”
“Yes. Neeraj told me today. I didn’t know.”
“Okay, what happened? I mean it’s a bit sudden, no?”
“Her fiancé has got an urgent opening in the US. They are getting married before they leave for Silicon Valley.”
“Okay, good for her,” Joy lit up a cigarette.
Dipak asked, “One more round?”
Along with the cloud of smoke, a few words also escaped Joy Banerjee’s mouth, “I didn’t even say goodbye!”
Dipak asked, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I had a crush on that girl,” Dipak smiled.
“Many had I guess.”
“You too?”
“No, I didn’t. I’ve always loved Yamini.” Joy Banerjee laughed. Only that much that was expected of him.
Facebook Comments