It’s almost impossible to let Bhanu go away. The night before ended in a big fight with a vow never to see each other’s face again. Doors slammed and the choicest abuses hurled at each other from the street and through the window as Bhanu went home and I locked up my apartment door and went to sleep. Those days we were just starting off in our working life and lived closeby in Mayur vihar in Delhi. No, the fight wasn’t about money, ideology or women. It was just another innocuous but highly divisive argument about non-veg food which I preferred and a simple vegetarian fare that Bhanu wanted.
The next morning I went to office as usual. The thought of last night’s ugly spat still lingering in my mind. We used to meet every evening, mostly over a drink. But that day was different, I was forcing myself to dislike Bhanu. He had become a habit. There was nothing much to do in those long boring evenings . Once in office, the days used to pass in a jiffy. There was no time to think, till I reached home and took out the keys and opened the front door of my flat.
There was some noise in the kitchen. Who could be in my flat, I had locked the door. I walk towards the kitchen and there was he pouring a cup of tea for me. He had entered through an open window. Bhanu with his impish grin ‘Shaam ho gayi’. Aaj chicken le kar aaya hoon tumhare liye.
Bhanu se chhutkara paana mushkil hee nahi, namumkin hai.
