Classified (Fiction)

Classified.

Rajan reached VT station after a long day at work and looked at the electronic signboard announcing the departure of the local train that would take him home. “Panvel train after 7 minutes. Hmm. Enough to get a cup of coffee and a newspaper” Lost in his thoughts, he went mechanically to his usual newspaper vendor, who gave him a “Mid Day” without being asked. Rajan fished out some coins from his pocket, gave it to the vendor, and walked on. He was disturbed in his train of thoughts by the vendor shouting after him, “Saar saar – fifty paisa more saar” “Kya re? When I give you 3 rupees, you say 2.50 and now I am giving you 2,50, you want 3 rupees” “Saar, 3 rupees on Wednesday Saar, baaki other days 2.50.” “Why? What’s so special about today?” “Extra section of classifieds saar” the vendor took his 50 paisa and ran off. Rajan finished his coffee and sat in the local train and took out the paper. He desultorily ran over the headlines – “Gujarat carnage”, “India lose disgracefully”, “Terror reaches Pakistan” – oh well! – He flipped though the papers, ran over the comics section, solved the absurdly simple crossword, tried the cryptic crossword and gave up.                   Usually at this time, he folded the paper and went to sleep, but today he was not able to. His mind was jangling. He opened the paper again and went through it, hoping to find some interesting section which he might have overlooked. Usually while flipping through the paper, he just turned over the classified sections, but today there seemed to be twice as many ads as usual. Then he remembered - fifty paisa more of ads. He smiled to himself. May as well get the full value, he thought, and started going through the classifieds. Thousands of housing development ads, how many houses people seemed to be buying! Gaurav Sankalp in Kandivli, Navre nagar in Ambarnath, RNA park in Mira road and what not. Every one seemed to have umpteen benefits – jogging, temple, school, piped gas, phone connection etc. etc. When he and Malathi were thinking of buying a house, the prospect seemed to be so grand! Property owners in Bombay! Wow! It was when he had just got married after a long relationship. How thrilling every step of life was then! He smiled and turned the page, and came to a section screaming about hotels. Goa, Manali, Mahabasleshwar, Lonavla - every place in India seemed to have hotels eager for his business. Offering everything from free beer, use of swimming pool to free accommodation for spouse and children, they seemed to be as tempting as possible. One particular ad caught his eye – Hotel Ravikiran near Goa. Why! That was the very place they had spent their honeymoon.                   Rajan smiled and his face softened at the memory. What fun they had then! They had packed two suitcases and loaded them in the car and driven aimlessly down the Bombay Goa highway. The world seemed to be especially alive and magical. The wonderful smooth, winding picturesque road - the dry grass on both sides which made it look as though they were driving through a field of gold, the wind rushing in through the window, the soothing sounds of Kishore Kumar love songs from the car stereo and Malathi's head on his shoulder. The world seemed to have nothing more to offer.                   Hunger had brought their minds off romance, and they had stopped at a small hotel near Alibaug. The food was so nice, and the location so peaceful that they decided to spend their honeymoon there itself. It was right next to the beach, so after a long lunch, made giggly by some beers they had gone and lazed on the beach. It being a weekday, the place was completely deserted. They roamed around on the beach for hours, and finally, drunk with the sunset and newfound bliss, they made love on the beach, with the sound of the waves for company. How embarrassed Malathi was in later days, when he referred to that incident.                   Rajan laughed aloud, but quickly subsided when he saw the quizzical looks of his fellow passengers. Like an ostrich burying his head in the sand, he hid self in his Mid Day and resumed his study of the classifieds. Turning the pages, he was suddenly confronted with an array of Automobile ads. Hero Hondas and Fiat Palios, Honda Activas and Toyota Qualis`s, every make of car in Independent India seemed to be crying out for his patronage. Here a Zen was offering “amazingly easy installments”, there a Dhuri motors was offering “2 installments off – only ID proof needed”. Apart from the Indian makes there were imported cars – “BMW for 16,50,000” or “Toyota Crown for 750,000”. There were even lines of ads for second hand cars, for those with big wants but small pockets. But, instead of getting happy with the cornucopia of transportation options available, Rajan was irritated. His brow wrinkled, and his mood darkened. “This was the first cause” he thought. “That woman wants, wants and wants. It’s not keeping up with the Jones. She wants to be the Jones’ to Jones’. Arey! She should understand, no? I am a middle class fixed income person. But she wanted a house, I bought that. Then a car. Then a 29 inch TV. Then a food processor. Then a microwave. What all can a person pay for? I am so much in Debt, but she doesn’t seem to care.” Tchah! To get the offending vehicles out of his sight, he flipped the page, only to be greeted with the medical section. What a section. “Having sexual weakness (Erection, early discharge, Impotency…)” He flipped the page, his ostrich reaction taking effect. He came to the entertainment section. This was an interesting one. He had noticed this section some time before, but his attention was grabbed by some strange ads. “Fun!! Enjoy!! Get together, parties, picnics, outing etc. Single, couples, Group of people, widen your social circle. 6707868 – 6161060” Hmm.Interesting. Hey! Here’s another one. This one was in Full caps, literally screaming for attention. “DON’T WORRY? ENJOY LIFE GET RID OF YOUR BOREDOM WE ORGANIZE SOCIAL CIRCLE PARTIES FOR LADIES AND GENTLEMEN PLEASE CONTACT - 9820175617, 6050466”. Whew, that was really loud, like somebody screaming in your year. The next ad was more brusque and business like. “Organizer of picnic plus gathering for ladies and gentlemen. Please contact:-9869088681.” Rajan smiled at the thought of what these parties would be. Maybe he should tell Malathi about them, she was always complaining about how bored she was. Well! What could he do? She was the one who had wanted all the items, and now he had to work doubly hard to pay off the crushing monthly installments.                   It’s all very well for Malathi to complain that he worked late and she had to stay alone all day, but what was he to do about it? Perhaps, if they had a baby, it would occupy her, but Malathi had flatly refused, saying that she was far too young to be a mother. Basically, she did not want to take the responsibility. His station was coming. Rajan stood and stretched himself. God! He was so tired! As he walked home from the station, he tried to put himself in a more positive mood. At least Malathi would not crib at him. She had stopped complaining about being alone and bored for a couple of months now. Such a nice change. She had developed some new friends. Or maybe she had read Norman Vincent Peale, on how to be a better person! The image of his wife reading Peale was so humorous to him that he laughed out loud, and was again embarrassed as the passerby’s looked at him. Rajan reached his building, and took the lift to his floor. He rang the bell a couple of times, and was surprised to find no one at home. Strange! Where was Malathi? He let himself inside with his key. After taking a bath and a change of clothes, Rajan decided to make a cup of tea for himself. Just as the water was boiling, his mobile phone rang. But when he opened his bag, he saw that his phone was switched off. Puzzled, he looked around and then saw that it was Malathi’s. She had apparently forgotten it while going out. He picked up the phone. “Hello, Rajan here” “Hi Rajan” It was Malathi's friend, Tina. “Hi Tina, Malathi seems to have gone out, and left her phone at home.” “Oh! Sorry to disturb you” “No Problem” “Actually I wanted a friend’s number…I’ll call later…” “Can I help you?” ‘…If you don’t mind…” “Not at all.”                   “It might be in her received call list in her phone as she had received a call from her…” Rajan checked and gave her the number of a mutual friend, and Tina hung up after the requisite thanks and good wishes. Casually, Rajan started going through the list of called numbers.                   Suddenly the milk boiled over. “Damn” Rajan went to switch of the gas and wipe up the mess. Later, while sipping his tea, something clicked in his mind. He picked up Malathi’s phone again. Late that night, Malathi awoke and saw that Rajan was not in bed. Puzzled, she went out to the hall and saw him studying the paper and writing in his planner. On seeing her, he smiled and shut the planner. “Rajan, what are doing so late at night?” she asked sleepily. “Come to bed.”                   “Just coming dear,” said Rajan. “Some work I have to do.”                   “Is it so important?” Rajan looked down at his planner, and the address he was copying out from his Mid-day. “Ace detectives specialist in Pre-post matrimonial Divorce cases. Undercover jobs, video and still photography, secret and confidential reports. Contact 6761049” “Well…” Rajan looked up “It’s… classified.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------This story was published as part of a Short story collection - The Revenge ink anthology of real indian writing