Wrong Number

It was a telephone call that started it all, a wrong number. This is a tale from long time ago when getting a wrong number was something which MTNL provided regularly as a part of their services.  Only thing that varied is the various plan levels i.e. for example you could get two wrong calls a day or all the calls you received could be wrong numbers. If you called to complain of course it could be another wrong number.

Let me not digress. I worked in a Chartered Accounting firm in town, which was located in an old dilapidated building like the various once that populated the town area. When you got down at the VT railway station (I told you this was an old tale) and walked towards flora fountain most of buildings located on both side of street were a relic from the British era. It seemed that the last paint job and repair work was done to them when British were around.

The building were I did my apprenticeship really took the cake. Its outer exterior was covered with moss, flaking paints and cracks filled with sealants which were made of tar. To be honest the exterior of the building was far superior to what the inner sanctum of the building looked like. As you walked in there were traders sitting on both sides of the entrance selling you goods just imported in from Dubai. Most of their shelf spaces were filled with empty boxes with the real goods stored inside the building under the stairs or the corridors covered with clothes and plastic to keeping preying minds and hands away.

The stairs were made of wood and had a musty odor which got amplified during the monsoon.  It creaked and groaned from years of abuse as one climbed them up to various floor levels.

This was a Friday with rains just making their descent onto Bombay and the scents of the parched earth invigorated with rains filling the air and your senses. It gave the people on the street a spring in their steps and vigor after months of torment in the sweltering Bombay Sun. Normally frowning faces of the denizens in a rush had mellowed a tad bit enjoying the cool breeze as they navigated their umbrellas through a sea of fellow travelers.

The phone rang and it was Ashok and I in the office. Ashok Pawar the peon was cleaning the office as I sat in my chair and watched the swaying trees and cool breeze blowing through the open windows. The boss was not in yet and many a Fridays he came in late.

"Hello" said Ashok

I looked up and asked who it was.

"Wrong number" he said as he kept the phone down.

It rang again before we could say Chartered Accountant. He picked up and hung up again.

"Some girls" he said.

"Girls" I repeated astonished. It had the same affect on me as the rains had on the parched dry earth outside.

Like clock work it rang again and I picked it up.

"Hello" said a sweet voice across the crossed lines. I thanked the Gods of wrong numbers for this stroke of luck.

With hesitation and all the maturity as I could gather as an eighteen year old, I croaked "Hello".

"Who is this?" said the lilting voice

"Who do you want?" I asked with hesitation but growing cadence. I was also afraid the connection could go away as easily as it came in.

She giggled and said to someone "It is a wrong number"

The fact that I was talking over the phone gave me strength and courage to communicate without despair. I was not out of breath or short on confidence.

"What is your name?" I asked looking into the mirror on the wall across.

"What is yours?" she asked and I could hear laughter at the other end. There was definitely more than one girl.

"Ravi" I lied

"Swati"

"Where do you work?" I asked.

"Near church gate" she said.

"Is it the same wrong number?" asked Ashok standing in front of me. I was annoyed that he dared to interrupt my call and looked at him with affront. His face and annoying smile told me he wanted to take part in the venture.

I jerked my hands in the air indicating that he should leave me alone. After all he was peon. He was taking none of that. He was an employee in the outfit long before I was. Also he carried more weight in the Org chart as he delivered while I was a leach who was still learning the tricks of the trade.

He indicated that he was going to pick the call from inside the boss's cabin.

"Don't" I yelled.

"What?" said the sweet voice

"Not for you. It is the guy at my office annoying me" I said

I had a few seconds before Ashok picked the call inside the office. Sometimes that was enough to cut the connection.

"Can I call you later?" I asked

"Give me your number" she said.

This was the movement of reckoning. What should I do? I hesitated not sure and heard the line being picked inside.

to be continued