Dead Man Walking
About last night:
A chilled saturday night with the family. India Pakistan match is on and K along with my complete Mehta household is going mad. I am super happy since there is no cooking today! We all are ordering pizzas and burger along with Frenchfries and Coke! I am a very happy person at this minute! I am nicely writing away to glory while India is beating the crap out of Pakistan.
Anyways since two days I have been in a daze. Sometimes all you want to do in life is nothing. So I did nothing. I followed my daily routine of married life and then lazed around watching shows.
Somedays you just want to forget who you are and be in a parallel universe where no one knows you. Hence I started watching a show called Reign, revolving around the life of Queen Mary of Scotland. That show is beautiful. I have always been enchanted by history even though I have failed that subject in school many times. It takes you into a different era and you feel like you are in those castles living royal lives.
Before that I watched Walking Dead which was all about ugly zombies eating humans. There were guts and blood everywhere. It is decent if you enjoy all this gory crap but I eventually got bored. I mean how long can I see greenish ugly guys eating humans and getting shot in the head.
So since we are talking about ancient times and walking dead, recently my brother bumped into a beloved character of my life. I shall call him "Z- sir". ( Z does NOT stand for zombie and yes, he is ancient)
Z-sir has been in our lives since fourteen years. He is old, bald and a little fat. He taught The Sibling and I some good old hindi. Thanks to him we both would always get distinction in that subject. However since he was old, he would always nap during our tuitions. Out of our sixty minute class, forty minutes he would sleep. And we never woke him up. The Sibling and I would dance around when he slept, make faces, go and do timepass in the other room. He had a daily ritual at our house. He would need one cup of tea with a plateful of biscuits, and before having his tea, he needed a glass of water. A habit he had since years, claiming it reduced his acidity. The Sibling and I were such terrible brats. As soon as he dipped his biscuit in tea, we would distract him by asking complex hindi questions, just to watch his soaked up biscuit fall into the tea. (Very mean, I know)
Once we were done with our college, we did not require his services anymore. So sadly Z-sir left our lives. But I was very special to him. He always had a soft corner for me which I royally abused by making him shout at The Sibling all the time. So once every year he would come over, on a random day, at a random time to have a cup of tea with a plateful of biscuits. He would come unannounced but his timing was so apt that I was somehow always at home. We would have tea, talk, sometimes just be silent and then he would go.
His once-a-year-teatime-with-me ritual continued for a long time and eventually stopped a couple of years ago. I got busy with my life, figuring out my weird career path and handling my very weird family along with a weirder dog. But since the last three years I always have been thinking of Z-sir. I had lost his number, no one else had his contact, I tried finding him on Facebook (bad idea)nothing worked. He just vanished from our lives. I used to look on the streets of Yari road, hoping to see him walk around somewhere like a zombie, but to no avail. I finally made peace with the fact that I do not know where he is or what has happened to him.
And now finally The Sibling found him walking on the road zombie-like right outside our building on a wonderful Saturday evening! They even clicked a selfie and sent it to me as proof that he is alive! (Thank God) The Sibling was subjected to a hundred-best-questions-on-Tanvi and Z-sir accepted The Sibling's invitation for tea.
Today I will be going home and in the evening meet my beloved Z-sir over a cup of tea and a plateful of biscuits. And maybe this time I won't distract him with complex questions just to watch his biscuit fall.
Ps- Sorry for the morbid title.