Life and Lies of M R Maiti

For a moment, I was up in the air. And for a moment, I had travelled back in time. Back in 2011, I was watching a movie with my friend on a Nokia 5233. Our monthly expense budget didn’t include theatre tickets. But the songs were everywhere. Not a single day went by without hearing the voice of Mohit Chauhan. I had to watch the movie. “Did it end,” I asked as the end credits rolled out. “The Cyber Café guy must have given us a faulty mp4 file.” “Whatever,” my friend replied. “I didn’t like the movie.” “What are you talking about? It’s one of the best Bollywood movies I have ever seen.” “Really,” my friend was surprised at my reaction. “This movie was about lust… and obsession.” I was thinking of contradicting him when I noticed the chemistry textbook lying nearby. We were studying for the upcoming test when we thought of watching the movie. I picked up the book and rushed through some pages until I reached the one I needed. “See, substrate and enzyme,” I showed it to my friend who look

I remember the time It was your birthday But I had no gift for you So I enquired about Your single most unfulfilled desire And you replied that it was your dream To roam the streets In the middle of the night With just your girl gang Without any care in the world  Just like the boys I remember the time Many years later  When you were in college  I surprised you on your birthday  In the middle of the night  And we were roaming the streets Along with your girl gang If only I wasn't there If only I didn't need to be there Your desire would have been fulfilled And I could have crossed it off my list *** Liked what you read? Leave a comment!

As the euphoria of Friday night started to dissipate, Nitin realised that he must have had one too many. His colleague Gaurav had offered to go out and he had agreed because he had no other plans. And now they were sitting in a BYOB, located a stone's throw away from his office building. New to the city, Nitin was still familiarising himself with the BYOB culture of Gurgaon. Yes, Gurgaon. Gurugram just doesn’t sound right. “Are you alright,” Gaurav asked when Nitin returned from a washroom break. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “Well, you say that but you look otherwise.” “So I encountered this here today and before in another BYOB,” Nitin tried to change the topic. “There is always a guy, standing next to the paper towel dispenser in the gents’ washroom. Is this a common practice?” “Maybe. I didn’t notice,” replied Gaurav. “It’s just that,” continued Nitin. “All he does is take out the paper towel and hand it over to the person who just finished washing his hands. I wonder if this is another se

The doors whiz open and You rush inside to find A temporary panacea for The sweltering heat outside. Misery loves company; Dearth of neither here. Snuggled together  In an imperfect embrace, Headphones plugged in, Eyes glued to the screen, Scrolling through reels  Or reeling under pressure On a Teams call. Although, once in a while, A faint tune reaches you Over the persistent murmur And tickles your brain; A song, vaguely familiar, But long forgotten. Smiles exchange and you Strike up a conversation With a passionate listener. Then reaching your destination, The doors whiz open and You lose them both, The person and the song Amidst the bustling crowd. *** Liked what you read? Leave a comment!