A friend in need - I

I finally decided to upload this short story I wrote long back. I had previously given it out to few people to review it and comment on any errors I had made. I've decided to post it online. I'm dividing it into three parts so that everyone can read it easily. Hope you find it interesting.

Update: This story is set in India. The dialogues between the characters are as spoken by locals. This may include ungrammatical English. To update readers on the vernacular language/references, I've included footnotes at the end of the story (part 3).


A friend in need
by Kirtan Acharya

Mohan had just returned from work, and was settling down to read his evening newspaper. Glancing through the paper, he commented to his wife, “Nothing but crime in the papers. Look at what is happening in New Delhi. That city is going to the dogs.”

His wife brought him his tea and sat down beside him. She turned to Mohan and said, “That’s true. Luckily, the situation is much better in Mumbai. With Priya’s call-centre[1] job, I would have been really worried if we were in some place like Delhi or Gurgaon.”

Mohan said while sipping his tea, “Oh yeah. Has Priya talked to her boss about her raise? She’s been working there for three years. They should make her the group leader by now. It will be a boost in her career prospects and will...”

His wife interrupted, “Don’t you think we should get her married now? I have had to make excuses so many times to Mona aunty. She was saying that she knows a few suitable boys for our Priya. Don’t let her work longer now, otherwise her marrying age will pass and then no one will marry her later.”

“But let us first ask her what she wants and when she wants to get married.” said Mohan.

“Why to ask her? You have spoiled your daughter to no end,” Mohan’s wife complained. “See, all her friends are already married.”

“But Sheila, are they happy?” Mohan turned towards Sheila and asked her. “These youngsters think it’s a fad to fall in love and get married. But do they take responsibility for maintaining their marriage? See how Radha’s marriage has turned out. She’s not even 23 and her parents got her married. Now what is happening between them? Fights, arguments and nothing else. Look at Priya instead. She’s just 24 but she can live on her own. She may still be single, but she can stand on her own feet. She’s responsible and I’m sure when she feels she’s ready she’ll herself say that she wants to get married.”

“Hope she doesn’t have a boy-friend. Guys, these days, can’t trust them. Just the other day, Mona aunty was talking about how one guy living in her society building dumped her girlfriend and ran away to Dubai. What would happen if…?” Sheila moaned.

Mohan interrupted, “That Mona aunty seems to take much pleasure in gossiping about other people’s misfortunes. Doesn’t she?” Mohan folded the newspaper and stretched himself. He lay down on the couch and closed his eyes.

Still worried, Sheila asked, “Why don’t you talk with Priya? Ask her indirectly whether she has a boyfriend. Do it at least for me. I’ll feel better.”

“Yes dear, you’re right. I’ll talk with her,” Mohan agreed, wanting to end the topic. Sheila took the empty tea cup from the table and stood up. “I better start preparing dinner,” she said and went to the kitchen. Still lying on the couch, Mohan spoke out to his wife, “Sheila, you remember Deepak? My friend from college?”

Sheila’s voice rang out from the kitchen, “Yeah, you told me about him. He was one of your closest friends in college, wasn’t he? What’s he doing now?”

“Yes, he was one of my closest pals. He was a quiet and an intelligent fellow. I didn’t meet him since he got married. But you know I saw him today while coming back from work. I was at a traffic signal and he was in a rickshaw just beside my car. I called out to him. He was on his way somewhere. He said he was looking for a place to rent a car for a few days. I told him to take Priya’s car instead. I gave him our address and invited him to our house for dinner. He said he will be here at around eight.”

Mohan stretched for the TV remote and fiddled with it. “Why isn’t the TV working?” Mohan asked. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s not working since afternoon. I couldn’t even watch my serials,” answered Sheila. “Did you call the showroom? It’s not even five months since we bought the TV.”

“No, I didn’t have the phone number. Please see if you have their card with you. I don’t want to miss the final episode of the All India Talent Hunt tonight,” reminded Sheila over the whistle of the pressure cooker.

“OK, I’ll call them up. Don’t worry,” Mohan removed his wallet from his trousers and found the card. “Kkiran TV Sales and Service,” Mohan read out and smiled to himself, “It seems that even these fellows have caught the Ekta Kapoor bug[2].” He dialed the TV showroom’s number and asked them to send someone to look at the problem. He kept the phone clearly irritated. He imitated in an obsequious tone, “Yes sir, we’ll immediately send our customer support representative to deal with the issue.”

“Do these guys charge so much for using such hi-fi language?” Mohan asked his wife.

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