The Idiot

by Abhishek Sahaya

‘What the hell! Why do they always do this?’ It would be an understatement if I say Mr. OLD BALLS was furious.

Yes, Mr. OLD BALLS is the name I have given to my HOD. He is not aware obviously for otherwise it wouldn’t have taken him long to chop my head off. I don’t really blame him for his state of mind. Handling new manufacturing projects is a tough job and it can easily bring out the evil inside you. He has been working in this department for more than twenty-five years — that’s my age. I joined this hell three years back, something I was dying to do during my college final year. So what they said in the college is true — mechanical engineering students reach hell after dying.
The news for the day was that another design change number was issued by the R&D team. It was a MINOR change according to their project lead — a change that would call for further MINOR changes in the holding fixture, making its cost go up by not less than three lakhs.

Mr. OLD BALLS immediately asked me to check on the ordering status. Another bad news — the PO was released three weeks back and we were half way through the DAP. This is why I always try not to meet any deadline. Had we delayed on the ordering, we could have saved at least one lakh rupees. But a MISTAKE once done is done — there is little point regretting later.

Anyway, this is everyday business for our team and it hardly affects me now. What does affect me, however, is my cell phone ringing on my desk while I am standing in Mr. OLD BALLS’ cabin. I literally ran out to take the call. It was HER.

‘Where are you?’ A normal employed person like me will be working in office on a working day at 12:42 in the afternoon, but girls just can’t see the obvious.
‘Office!!’ I replied, trying not to sound irritated.
‘I am in the bus’, she said. She was on her way to office. She would take a bus to Dadar and then a local to Andheri every day. One more thing she would do every day is to call me when getting bored waiting for the bus or train. My friends often told me that I am nothing more than a time pass for her. But there was one small problem – I loved being her time pass!!

‘I am in a very bad mood today’ she said. For a moment, I got a weird thought — am I talking to Mr. OLD BALLS? I immediately checked my cell phone. It flashed her name on display. God! Everyone is in a bad mood today. ‘What happened? I thought you were supporting Italy!’
Italy had defeated France in FIFA World Cup Final two days back.

‘Not that stupid. Sanket isn’t picking up his phone.’
Now this was something that didn’t do any good to my mood. She met Sanket at the weekend MBA classes some 4-5 months back. They have been ‘just friends’ since then. That’s what she always told me. My friends used to tell me that I felt insecure because of that guy. I would go mad at them for even thinking like this. There was no way I could be jealous of an IDIOT. Yes this is what I used to call him – Her IDIOT. She didn’t know about this of course. I never felt that this IDIOT had any credentials to be my competitor.

There was nothing special about him. He didn’t have parents – lost them when he was in 11th standard. He had been staying with his maternal uncle since then. She once told me while having dinner at a restaurant, ‘You know, his uncle charges him for staying with them. Such a Bastard!!’ She wouldn’t use foul language normally.
‘How did he pay during his school days?’ I asked.
‘Used to work for the local cable guy. Part time. He was always good at videography. He would shoot at various birthdays and marriages to fill up his uncle’s pocket. Rascal!’ She was getting better with swearing.
‘Oh!! That’s why he is working as a cameraman for that News channel. Must be finding it very easy at work with all his experience.’ I thought I wasn’t being sarcastic.
‘But it’s really exciting, isn’t it? Covering all the news. He even gets to meet some celebrities. You know, when he went to cover the premiere of Fanaa he met Aamir Khan there.’
I can never forget how she bunked school thrice to see MELA — such a diehard Aamir Khan fan!! No wonder she found a cameraman’s job more exciting than a project engineer’s.

Anyways, this was how things had been going for last few months. She would spend all her time talking about that IDIOT of hers. And did I feel jealous of him — of course not, what rubbish!

‘I don’t know where he is.’ I came back from my flashback-cum-IDIOT introduction dream.
‘Actually I forgot to wish him last night.’ It was his birthday —11 July. ‘He must be going mad at me!!’
I wished he actually got mad and went away from her.
‘I think I should buy him some special gift. That would probably fix it up. But what shall I buy him? He likes sunglasses a lot. He is also very fond of wrist watches. But I guess he bought a Fast Track last week. What about a Tie? It would look very nice on him.’
Whenever she started reciting her IDIOT-Chalisa I always turned myself into a mute listener.
‘Rahul, will you please help me buy a gift for him?’ If there was one thing next to impossible, it was me saying NO to her. So it was decided. We were to meet after my office at a mall near her office to buy something for that IDIOT of hers.

It was 15 minutes to six. At my office, we had spent last three hours shouting at each other in a CFT CONCERNS RESOLUTION meeting. In that period I kept getting an SMS from her every ten minutes. ‘I think a photo-frame will be a good option!’ ‘How about a wallet?’ ‘I already bought a greeting card, will show you when you are here!’ ‘How about a surprise dinner party? Just the three of us!’
Mr. OLD BALLS was shouting at everyone for the late design changes. He was worried about was the increase in the fixture cost. I would have bought that fixture with my own money and spent the rest of my life paying EMIs, if he could make her forget that IDIOT and direct those feelings to me!

In another half an hour the meeting got over and I started towards the canteen. I got another SMS — ‘Its confirmed, dinner at 8:30. Venue we’ll decide together. Are you out of your meeting? What time you coming?’ I didn’t feel like replying. My mind was completely screwed up. I reached the canteen. Everything felt gloomy. Empty places all around.
But wait! That was strange. I looked around in the canteen. There was an unusual silence in the hall. No one in the queue, no one having snacks. Then I realized that people were all gathered around the TV set kept in the corner. No one was saying anything beyond a hush. I spotted Sujit standing there.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked, keeping my voice as low as possible.
‘Where were you?? There have been several bomb blasts in Mumbai.’
It took me some time to digest that. My eyes froze on the TV set. They were flashing Breaking News – 3 Blasts in Mumbai Local Trains. Within next 5-6 minutes the count went up to 6. Everyone in the hall was shocked. Were we under an attack or something? I noticed the reporter on the TV screen. I had seen her somewhere before. I had actually met her. She was Harshita Seth – IDIOT’s colleague. We were watching the News channel that IDIOT worked for. That meant the cameraman who was taking the shots being shown was none other than Mr. IDIOT. For a moment I forgot about the bomb blasts. I was again thinking of her, that IDIOT, his birthday gift, surprise dinner party. Just then I got another SMS – ‘Hey I booked a table at The Appetizers. Couldn’t resist. Dying to meet you both. Come soon.’

I knew she wasn’t dying to meet me. My eyes went back to the TV screen. Perhaps I was imagining, but I saw Harshita looking at me. She had a strange smile on her face as if she was mocking me. Perhaps everyone except me had realized that I was nothing but a time-pass for HER. She only cared about her IDIOT. All her feelings were for him. And that IDIOT was right in front of me, carrying his idiotic camera, focusing on a local reaching Borivali. Suddenly I felt a surge of mixed emotions – of anger, of grim, of betrayal, of rejection, of REVENGE. I prayed that the IDIOT should die in those blasts.

BOOM!!!!!

There was an earthquake kind of scene on the screen as the camera moved haphazardly. For a moment we couldn’t see anything. Everything was covered in dust and smoke. Then slowly everything went quiet and still. We could see the dead bodies lying around. There had been a blast in the train – the 7th blast of the day for the records. It took a while for the situation to sink in, to accept what we had just witnessed.
And then I found my entire body shaking and an entirely new feeling overwhelming me – feeling of GUILT.
I was not responsible for what had happened. My not praying for his death would not have prevented the blast from happening. But I did pray – out of anger, out of jealousy, out of rage. I had degraded myself. I could see no difference in people who planted the bombs and people like me. Both were self-centred, malevolent, greedy, covetous and dissolute. People who wished to kill those who had done them no harm, who hardly knew them, who were busy fighting their own lives for survival! Both represented the most inhuman aspect of the human nature.

The IDIOT was gone forever. I always wished for this day but when it finally came, I didn’t have courage to face the reality. My mobile rang and I picked it up, my eyes still stuck on the TV screen.

‘Where are you? I sent you so many messages. I am with Sanket right now and we are waiting for you near my office. He took a day off from work today. Make it fast and (in hushed voice) do bring a cake; I forgot.’ She giggled.

There was nothing I could say. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I was smiling at the same time. It was the best feeling I have had in my entire life. I would go and celebrate tonight. The blasts had killed the IDIOT within me!!!

Author is a mechanical engineer, currently working for Mahindra & Mahindra.

Image Attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/uggboy/4719633193/