Team Name: The Scribe Tribe

Chapter11 - A Humble Sojourn

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The incessant clicking sounds of Jennifer's DSLR disturbed his soliloquy. He was unable to think clearly, forgetting his thoughts after every click and struggling to gather them again. His head throbbed with the effort. He wished they could talk, but the sight of Savanadurga made Jennifer forget all about him. She looked dissatisfied with every picture she took, her frown more pronounced in determination. He took it all in at once. The huge mountains did nothing to alleviate his own feelings of alienation. Gently, he took out the paper bag from his jacket, stuff he bought from a panwala who claimed it was some of the finest Marijuana grown in Nepal. He inhaled the dried plant and soon knew that he was short changed, but didn't mind it much. He brought out the rolling paper from his other pocket and started kneading the weed with tobacco from his cigarettes. 


He loved the process of rolling the joint. It was something he took a lot of pride in. It made him concentrate, and feel vulnerable at the same time. He could not stand a bad joint. It had to be perfect. His eye brow curved and his tongue came out gently to lick the edge of the rolling paper as he finished rolling the joint. His eyes raised in triumph where they met Jennifer's, who was watching him rapt in attention. Their eyes met and a smile escaped her eyes. 



“Don't you think this is a bit too early for all this?” She said looking at the joint in Cyrus' hands and all the booze he had lined up in front of him. 



“I'm just living up to my family name” Cyrus lighted his joint and threw his head back. 



“Cyrus Daruwala” He explained when he saw a look of incomprehension writ Jennifer's face.



They smiled in unison.

“Still, I think you should go easy on weed and booze.” 

“Why do you care?”

Jennifer was caught off guard. The remark came easily for Cyrus but Jennifer didn't know the answer she was struggling to find out for the last month. 

Cyrus took a large swig from the Old Monk Rum bottle and inhaled the joint greedily. He felt the blood rush through his veins and shook his head wildly as if he was trying to force his thoughts away. She took his picture, but she was unable to fit his entire 6 foot 3 inches frame into it from so close. 

“Don’t take any photographs please.” Cyrus said.

“Why?” 

“I haven’t earned it.” 

He started drinking directly from the bottle, which he passed on to Jennifer as he stood up. Pacing the terrain, words started flowing from his mouth, random, without any reason for the outburst. Jennifer took out her mobile and recorded him. His voice was thick, clear between hiccups, devoid of any emotion. 

“Mom and Dad separated when I was five. They were both lawyers. I was with Dad. He felt sorry for me. He apologized to me a lot of times but could never reconcile with mother. He used to ask me if I wanted to be with her. I didn’t have a choice. I never knew if it would be better. Whenever I met her, she seemed contrite, loving, brought lot of presents for me. Both of them were alike in that way. I didn’t understand what made them separate. For my 12th birthday, they were together and we wanted to celebrate as a family. Three of us got bored of each other.”

 “Dad asked me if I wanted to study law. I didn’t have a choice again. He was a lawyer, so he got me admitted into a private university. I didn’t have the privilege of adolescence. I had to be mature to survive. Alcohol and weed came sooner than my dad expected. They didn’t rescue me as many said they would, but they were never demanding. I had space for them. They made it their own.”

“I started to travel. Dad and Mom took care of the money and asked few questions. They were too busy or didn’t care. Either way I was not concerned. No place brought me solace. I didn’t like the life of a nomad. It was too meaningless for me. I want to earn something. I want to be someone.”

He sat again, finishing his reverie. It was as if he was talking to himself, which Jennifer felt fortunate to be privy to. She didn’t know how to process all this information, for her it was just that. 

 “I think we should go now Cyrus. You had enough, and it’s too dangerous to stay here any longer.” Jennifer started to rise, collecting her accessories, packing them neatly.

His voice started to go on again, probably it’s the booze talking now. 

“You know Jen. Once you know more about people, I mean like completely, as if they don’t have more, you start feeling that they don’t worth anything. But you know, I want to be worthy.”

Cyrus was gritting his teeth as if he was struggling to get the correct word, as if he was concerned Jennifer might not understand what he was saying, as if by stressing the word it might get into his head, stamping its presence there. 

They were walking back again to find a KSRTC bus to take them back to the city. Throughout the journey Cyrus kept talking inaudible and incomprehensible. Concentrating on his rants and finding a meaning out of them made her head ache with the effort. She took her headphones, plugged them into her ears and shut him off. Linkin Park took over. 

***
Roohi felt her eyes strain as the numbers on the black board spinning in front of her. It was a Multiplication and Division class of her favorite subject Mathematics. The problem on the board was to multiply 16 with 18,which she started by trying to multiply 6 and 8. She couldn't remember it. She started recollecting the 6th table, chanting it within her mind.  Her pencil fell off her hands. She bent down to retrieve it and found the floor spinning beneath her. She closed her eyes for a moment, collapsed on the floor the next.

Shekhar’s mobile was in his study, ringing incessantly for the past 20 minutes. There was no one to pick the call up. He sat in Bhalla’s office twitching his hands nervously as he waited for the appointment. The cover in his lap, having his manuscript seemed heavy. He placed it next to him and suppressed an urge to run away. He felt stupid. 

Tara’s mobile rang silently in her handbag, making no noise in the air conditioned room she was working in. She typed fast, took printouts immediately, and corrected the mistakes, typed again. She had no time for anything else. 

Roohi lay on a bed in the resting room for girls as her principal, Sarojini Gupta dialed her parents nervously. They weren’t picking up and she didn’t know whom to call. She cursed at how parents could be so irresponsible of their daughters.

A doctor came in and took the pulse of Roohi. He said that she was weak due to lack of proper nourishment and should be fine soon. He also advised Sarojini to give her the day off, and handed her the prescription.

“As if I wasn’t going to. But who the hell will take her back” She muttered a curse.

“Papa” Roohi called out in her frail voice.
***

Jennifer helped Cyrus back into his bed. He didn’t stop blabbering yet. She switched on her laptop and saved all her day’s pictures into an external hard drive. She gazed at Cyrus’ picture for a while, and deleted it.

“Why are you doing this to me Jen? What are you atoning for?” Cyrus called out loud. 

She chose Linkin Park again. She opened Google and typed impulsively.

Cyrus Daruwala.

                                                                                       Read the next chapter here

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