I could.
Uncle looked at me. He saw me surrounded by the autos and understood the
situation. He came towards us.
The drivers turned, ready to take him on as well.
‘Enna?’ the uncle said.
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
The drivers gave their version of the story to him. Uncle spoke to them in
fluent Tamil. It is fascinating to see a Sardar-ji speak in Tamil. Like Sun TV’s
merger with Alpha TV.
‘Where are you coming from?’ he said.
‘Airport.’
‘Airport cannot be five hundred rupees. Hundred maximum,’ he said.
The four drivers started speaking simultaneously with lots of ‘illas’. However, they had softened a little due to uncle’s Tamil. After five minutes, we settled for a hundred bucks and disgusted glances from the drivers. My driver took out my
luggage and dumped it on the street as he sped off.
‘Thanks, uncle,’ I said. ‘You’ve lived in Chennai long?’
‘Too long. Please don’t stay as long as me,’ Uncle said as he helped me with
my luggage to the lift. ‘Punjabi?’
I nodded.
‘Come home if you need a drink or chicken. Be careful, your building is
vegetarian. No alcohol also.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, people here are like that. For them, anything fun comes with guilt,’ he
said as the lift doors shut.
I rang the chummery doorbell. It was ten o’clock. A sleepy guy opened the
door. The apartment was completely dark.
‘Hi,’ I said. Krish from Delhi. I am in consumer finance.’
‘Huh?’ the guy said. ‘Oh, you are that guy. The only North Indian trainee in
Citibank Chennai. Come in, you are so late.’
‘Flight delay,’ I said as I came into the room.
He switched on the drawing-room light. ‘I am Ramanujan, from IIMB,’ he said. I
looked at him. Even just out of the bed, his hair was oily and combed. He looked
like someone who would do well at a bank. With my harried look after the scuffle
with the auto drivers, I looked like someone who couldn’t even open a bank
account.
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
‘That’s Sendil’s room, and that’s Appalingam’s.’
He pointed me to my room.
‘Anything to eat in the house?’ I said.
‘I don’t know,’ he said and opened the fridge. ‘there is some curd rice.’ He took out the bowl. It didn’t look like a dish. It looked like rice had accidently fallen into the curd.
‘Anything else? Any restaurant open nearby?’
He shook his head as he picked up two envelopes and passed them to me.
‘Here, some letters for you. The servant said a girl had come to see you.’
I looked at the letter. One was the welcome letter from Citibank. The second
envelope had Ananya’s handwriting on it. I looked at the curd rice again and tried
to imagine it as something yummy but I couldn’t gather the courage to eat it.
I came to my room and lay down on the bed. Ramanujan shut the lights in the
rest of the house and went back to sleep.
‘Should we wake you up?’ he had asked before going to his room.
‘What time is office?’
‘Nine, but trainees are expected to be there by eight. We target seven-thirty.
We wake up at five.’
I thought about my last two months in Delhi, when waking up at nine was an
early start. ‘Is there even daylight at five?’
‘Almost. We’ll wake you up. Good night.’
I closed my door and opened Ananya’s letter.
Hey Chennai boy,
I came to see you, but you hadn’t arrived in the afternoon as you told me. Anyways, I can’t wait any longer as mom thinks I am with friends at the Radha Silks Shop. I have to be back. Anyway there is a bit of drama at home but I don’t want to get into that now.
Don’t worry, we shall meet soon. Your office is in Anna Salai, not far from mine.
However, HLL is making me travel a lot all over the state. I have to sell tomato ketchup.
Hard, considering it has no tamarind or coconut in it!
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
I’ll leave now. Guess what, I am wearing jasmine flowers in my hair today! It helps to have a traditional look in the
Uncle looked at me. He saw me surrounded by the autos and understood the
situation. He came towards us.
The drivers turned, ready to take him on as well.
‘Enna?’ the uncle said.
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
The drivers gave their version of the story to him. Uncle spoke to them in
fluent Tamil. It is fascinating to see a Sardar-ji speak in Tamil. Like Sun TV’s
merger with Alpha TV.
‘Where are you coming from?’ he said.
‘Airport.’
‘Airport cannot be five hundred rupees. Hundred maximum,’ he said.
The four drivers started speaking simultaneously with lots of ‘illas’. However, they had softened a little due to uncle’s Tamil. After five minutes, we settled for a hundred bucks and disgusted glances from the drivers. My driver took out my
luggage and dumped it on the street as he sped off.
‘Thanks, uncle,’ I said. ‘You’ve lived in Chennai long?’
‘Too long. Please don’t stay as long as me,’ Uncle said as he helped me with
my luggage to the lift. ‘Punjabi?’
I nodded.
‘Come home if you need a drink or chicken. Be careful, your building is
vegetarian. No alcohol also.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, people here are like that. For them, anything fun comes with guilt,’ he
said as the lift doors shut.
I rang the chummery doorbell. It was ten o’clock. A sleepy guy opened the
door. The apartment was completely dark.
‘Hi,’ I said. Krish from Delhi. I am in consumer finance.’
‘Huh?’ the guy said. ‘Oh, you are that guy. The only North Indian trainee in
Citibank Chennai. Come in, you are so late.’
‘Flight delay,’ I said as I came into the room.
He switched on the drawing-room light. ‘I am Ramanujan, from IIMB,’ he said. I
looked at him. Even just out of the bed, his hair was oily and combed. He looked
like someone who would do well at a bank. With my harried look after the scuffle
with the auto drivers, I looked like someone who couldn’t even open a bank
account.
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
‘That’s Sendil’s room, and that’s Appalingam’s.’
He pointed me to my room.
‘Anything to eat in the house?’ I said.
‘I don’t know,’ he said and opened the fridge. ‘there is some curd rice.’ He took out the bowl. It didn’t look like a dish. It looked like rice had accidently fallen into the curd.
‘Anything else? Any restaurant open nearby?’
He shook his head as he picked up two envelopes and passed them to me.
‘Here, some letters for you. The servant said a girl had come to see you.’
I looked at the letter. One was the welcome letter from Citibank. The second
envelope had Ananya’s handwriting on it. I looked at the curd rice again and tried
to imagine it as something yummy but I couldn’t gather the courage to eat it.
I came to my room and lay down on the bed. Ramanujan shut the lights in the
rest of the house and went back to sleep.
‘Should we wake you up?’ he had asked before going to his room.
‘What time is office?’
‘Nine, but trainees are expected to be there by eight. We target seven-thirty.
We wake up at five.’
I thought about my last two months in Delhi, when waking up at nine was an
early start. ‘Is there even daylight at five?’
‘Almost. We’ll wake you up. Good night.’
I closed my door and opened Ananya’s letter.
Hey Chennai boy,
I came to see you, but you hadn’t arrived in the afternoon as you told me. Anyways, I can’t wait any longer as mom thinks I am with friends at the Radha Silks Shop. I have to be back. Anyway there is a bit of drama at home but I don’t want to get into that now.
Don’t worry, we shall meet soon. Your office is in Anna Salai, not far from mine.
However, HLL is making me travel a lot all over the state. I have to sell tomato ketchup.
Hard, considering it has no tamarind or coconut in it!
DX @ www.desibbrg.com
I’ll leave now. Guess what, I am wearing jasmine flowers in my hair today! It helps to have a traditional look in the
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