DRIVE — part I

“DRIVE” is my first attempt to write something socially relevant on rediffiland. Hope it makes sense, comes across unbiasedly and you all like it.

The Jet Airways flight cruised down the Chhatrapati Shivaji Domestic Airport. Within a few moments, Abhigyaan Banerjee was seen running across the runway, without heeding the ground instruction, not waiting for the bus to carry them to the terminal. Clad in a khadi blue shirt, black jeans, a black jacket that waved in the air as he ran, and carrying a handbag which could hardly contain even a day's clothes, Abhigyaan drew everyone's attention as any other 6'2" handsome guy would do if he rushed into an airport premises and at an equally rapid pace, ran out of the exit gate.

As the taxi turned right and sped onto the Western Express Highway, Abhigyaan could feel his arms shiver as he rubbed them against each other, and his lips stutter into a prayer every few seconds. His life was stuck around 30 kilometres away, while the entire world seemed to be glued to their television sets.

An year later…

The rain wet November winds splashed against the sliding widow of the 32nd floor flat. Abhigyaan Banerjee unlatched the lock of the 12 feet broad pane and pushed it open. In a moment, the rain drenched his face and the turquoise blue knee-long kurta. Abhigyaan stood there, savouring the rain. It's been quite a while since I last got myself wet.

The glass filled with a large peg of Imperial vodka clinked with the sounds of ice cubes. From somewhere in the giant hall of his flat, Kishore Kumar sang one of his most cherished tracks ' 'Badi sooni sooni hai, zindagi ae zindagi.' Abhigyaan peeped down the window and looked at the giant facade of the tower, which was now getting soaked in the unprecedented autumn showers. Beauty and death are just two facets of the same eye, he thought to himself, the top floor is the most exotic yet the most perilous. If I jump from here, no one might be even able to identify my face. But I am here, cherishing the music, rain and the vodka. A smiled outlined his lips at the thought.

How many times had he thought of jumping over and ending his life? With an overdose of campose stoshed within his stomach, he thought he would jump over and die painlessly. But, he never could. The house has her remnants ' her smell, her touch, her colours, her presence…

The calling bell honked and jerked him out of the reverie. Abhigyaan turned dizzily and looked at the watch hanging from the wall. It was almost quarter to eleven. Who has turned up so late, Abhigyaan frowned and turned back at the window, I am in no mood to respond.

The bell honked again, this time twice at the same instant. I am gonna kill this person.

Abhigyaan darted towards the door, his legs swaying in a non-liner motion, the ice cubes banging against the glass interior. He turned the lock and pulled open the door. But the late night intruder was not someone Abhi could vent his anger upon. Srijit Roy Chowdhury stood at the door, smiling at his childhood friend. He was dressed in a casual loosely fitted black tee, track pajamas and floaters. Contrary to the tall muscular built of Abhigyaan, Srijit was lean and around half a foot short.

'So, Mr. DCP,' Srijit quizzed, 'alone with a drink?'

DCP Abhigyaan Banerjee smirked at being reminded his post. The futility of his office has been striking him for the past one year. It has been the biggest liability of my life.

NDTV senior correspondent Srijit knew Abhigyaan ever since they met at a press conference four years back, and almost immediately they struck a chord. For the past few years, they have maintained a close association ' perhaps it was because of their same schooling background, their common love for driving or unadulterated fight against terrorism.

'Come in,' Abhigyaan greeted his guest for the night, 'I'll make one for you as well.'

'Man, I have come to take you out,' Srijit smiled back, 'hurry up. The night's calling us. Let's go for a drive.'

'Are you mad?' Abhigyaan turned and walked back to his room, 'take your girl-friend along.'

Srijit walked into the room, toddling behind his friend, 'Morally you should not make such a remark to man who has just broken up a week back, that too after five years of courtship.' He closed the door behind him. 'But, I will pardon that because I am loving the weather as much as I am loving my single status.' He winked. Abhigyaan smiled at the remark.

'Come on man,' Srijit tossed the car keys in his hand, 'both of us are on leave. And it's a perfect night to hit the streets. After all, both of us have been cross-country drivers.'

'Why have you taken a leave?' Abhigyaan forcepped out another ice cube and dropped it in his vodka, 'You should be working, now that you are free.'

Srijit laughed at the joke but restrained himself to make a reply. 'See man,' he inclined on the sofa handle, 'now that I am free, I have time to be with myself. Prior to this, even when I took an off, it went off accompanying that girl and listening to her crib.'

Abhigyaan shook his head and looked back outside. 'If you actually want to drive tonight,' he looked back at his friend, 'the terms would be mine.'

Srijit knocked his boot on the ground and folded the right palm on his forehead. 'Yes Sir.'

To be continued…