Prabhat looked up over the counter and ordered another shot of scotch. Bartender pretended to listen for a moment and signalled the manager tentatively. The manager approached him, leaned over and inquired if everything was alright.
On any other day, this would have seemed awkward, but today Prabhat knew he couldn't really blame the two men behind the counter. It was all strange for them from the moment he entered this bar today around 8pm, sitting all alone, speaking to nobody but this young north eastern bloke over the counter, who kept pouring him glass after glass till 11:30pm now. This bartender, first surprised and then amused at his impeccably dressed strange customer, had got worried by now.
Manager was a more seasoned fox though. He acknowledged his last order, his 11th drink of the night, of course after making him swipe his card, and swiftly glided away glancing a victorious smirk over the young bartender- that's how you do it boy!
This little commotion though, had caught the eye of an unsuspecting elderly gentleman sitting next to Prabhat, slowly savouring his Jack Daniels and observing everyone around with the surety of a century old banyan tree. After looking at (or perhaps looking through) Prabhat for a few moments, he drifted closer and broke the ice.
"Was it a girl?"- asked the old man.
"What? No no, it's...", Prabhat lifted his sunken head towards left and munched on his next words for a moment in amazement- "No, I mean... it's something personal."
"Son, I don't know you. You don't know me. You are sitting alone and so am I. You can spill whatever it is, if it makes you feel any better. I don't mind, so it doesn't matter."- said the old man in a pleasant yet commanding tone.
Prabhat tried to respond, not sure himself if for argument or obedience, but words got choked in his throat. He wasn't sure if he had the appetite to share his dilemma with this random stranger.
Prabhat recently got promoted to a senior consultant level at an Indian IT major. He got married a year back to Jyoti, a teacher before marriage and now his sweet homemaker. Since, he was the only son to his parents, he made the center of their universe. Prabhat's father was vociferously proud of his son, his achievements and his upbringing.
While the father always believed that after him, his son will preserve this house and its memories, and the farmland along with a small ancestral property in their paternal village. Whereas the son, on the other hand, nursed a longtime desire of settling in US permanently, like so many of his college mates. He was hardly interested for the small property around some dustbowl in eastern UP and he couldn't care less for the barren farmlands. His father had huge attachment though, with this so called barren soil and that's where the seed of this conflict came from.
Prabhat's dilemma started taking shape last week when he came across a lucrative opportunity at his office. He could, if selected, not only travel to Chicago for a 5 year assignment, but also take his spouse along. On this Monday, boss broke the good news to him. One month later, he was supposed to embark on this dream voyage. His pet dream of settling permanently in the States was finally appearing within the grasp. Only problem was, he needed to convince his parents now. He knew it was an uphill task, and though Jyoti wasn't as excited as he had hoped for, he somehow managed to convince his old man. His mother meanwhile didn't speak a single word throughout. The Visa was processed, the packing was undergoing and tickets were nearly booked by the company.
But somehow somewhere there was an uneasy unspoken tension brewing inside the house. And he sensed that while his decision was accepted by his old parents without any resistance, in crept a general indifference in place of their usual warmth. And it all was killing Prabhat. His silent house, the silent housemates, the deafening silence in their relations.
"Is papa not proud of me anymore? Should I let go of this opportunity now and rather wait or pray for 10 more years? This is so absurd. Why can't they understand?"- thought Prabhat to himself, trudging his way towards the Chandana bar near his office to take refuge in its emptiness. As he could no longer bear the awkwardness at home.
"No problem, let me tell you my story first, then you share yours."- hummed the old man, passing over the peanut plate to Prabhat and jolting him back to his blurred senses. "You know, I come from a very poor background, son. My parents toiled very hard to get me educated beyond their wildest hopes. I too was bright enough to secure admission into one of the top universities at USA.
Post my degree, I got campus placed there itself. I pleaded with my amma baba to come live with me there, but both of them, rest in peace, didn't want to separate from their roots. In following years, I fell for a team mate of mine Amanda- a young, talented, well mannered blonde girl. We dated for a while before tieing the knot with full american customs and I became a permanent citizen. My parents just sent their blessings from the village. We had two kids shortly after, Jimmy came first, followed by Grace 3 years later. When Grace was 5 years old, amma baba departed to the higher plane."
"I'm sorry to hear that." - uttered a now more attentive Prabhat.
"Thank you, son."- the old man nodded and resumed- "My last link from this country, this soil had got severed. Still I spared not a single emotion. Nothing much changed in my life. I continued living my great American dream. Kept jumping ladders of success and making tons of dollars by next few decades with my own electronics business.
But somewhere over this race to win, I kept so focused on just speeding faster, that I didn't notice who all I was leaving behind one by one. My old parents were just the first entry in a long list of losses. And then happened 9/11, along came an unjust atmosphere of mistrust and racial phobia toward the 'browns'. My business got severely impacted. That made me even more distant with my wife and children. Frustrated with regular our falling off and an unsuccessful business, Amanda divorced me 2 years later and was awarded the full custody of kids. The divorce, it was messy, got quite a bad press in local community. Apparently, there wasn't anything left for me in the States by now. So, eventually, call it ignominy, emptiness or a sense of failure, I sold off my business and returned to this city to start it all over again, 30 years after I left it for the great American dream.
Today, I live all alone, spend the day in my electronics shop at city center and evenings here at this bar. To be honest, a young guy I hired runs the shop decently, while I just brood over in a corner out of boredom. Amanda and children haven't spoken to me in years now. I have gone past the age where I could have made some friends for life as well. So often I just come here, sit alone, observe and participate in the lives of others, immerse in their joy or sympathize with their pain- all this so I can once again... feel something. Feel wanted, feel desired, feel anything else but empty.
If you get an opportunity, repeat not the mistakes this old fool made. Keep close the people who matter most. Don't detach yourself from the roots, else you would end up just like me, a floating log of what was once a glorious tree."
A sobering Prabhat handed over a bunch of tissue to the old man, and wiped his own moist eyes with one too.
"So, that was my story. Now tell me, was it really about a girl?"- asked the old man again with a twinkle in his eye.
"No, it's not. And I am really sorry to hear what you went through Mr....?"- inquired Prabhat.
"Oh sorry, forgot to introduce. I'm Prabhat Mehta."- replied the old man, extending a card.
Prabhat sat motionless for a moment, as if under a spell. An avalanche of emotions and a tsunami of thoughts just passed by inside his head. And when it got a little clearer, he just smiled back and shook his hand firmly- "Mr Mehta, I am Prabhat Sharma. Very much pleased to meet you."
This handshake and introduction perhaps was enough for Mehta ji to perhaps sense what just transpired. The newfound surety and peace on younger Prabhat's face, gave the elder one a hope that another Prabhat won't repeat the same mistake he once committed.
The bartender intervened that it's time to wrap up. Both gentlemen stood up to leave. With a mutual nod, both the past and the future walked out tonight with a HOPE.
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