A story... perhaps

“The city’s now full of tall apartment and office buildings. Am really glad there aren’t any really close to our apartment”, said Mehak as she sat next to her bedroom window overlooking a large portion of the city. It was the view she had seen changing constantly over the last six years or so that she had been working in Hyderabad. The view earlier was of a narrow road, adjacent to KBR park, with small independent houses and open rocky spaces - a quiet peaceful neighbourhood and close to work. Now the scene looked entirely different. Tall buildings had replaced every third house and taller hoardings blocked the nice view that she had had of the park. Not that she complained too much, because now she had a 20 x 40 feet view of a hunky model. The road was a lot wider now, but the traffic had increased more than proportionally. Every morning and evening saw loads of cars and company buses lined up in rows – bumper to bumper. Many of the new or very-very-late-for-meeting employees honked in vain to get the traffic moving. The others, for whom this was a part of their morning routine, were engaged in listening to music, tapping the fingers on the steering wheel. Patience is a virtue they had learnt on their way to office.

Every Sunday Mehak could afford a lazy afternoon, with a short siesta after an assorted sort of meal. Neither she nor her roommate could boast of excellent culinary skills. So the days they spent at home, too lazy to venture out in the scorching Hyderabad summer, they managed with anything edible they could find in their refrigerator. They were actually pretty used to mixing and matching snacks and fruits and ready-to-make food items to make a pretty satisfactory meal. After years of doing that, they even referred to a few of these meals by names and missed their “usual” food, on week long vacations home.

She longed for a long holiday now. The monotony of work was getting to her. She glanced across the room at her roommate sitting at their coffee table – a recent addition to their furniture – reading a book. Priya was half way through The Fountainhead. Every few seconds, she picked up a cookie from the box on the table, without taking her eyes of the book. The only time Priya looked up was to utter an “Oops sorry!” on dropping a few crumbs on the floor. Not that either of them cared! Mehak took this as an opportunity to open a conversation. She tried diverting Priya’s attention away from that pile of philosophical drama.

“Don’t you think the weather is amazing outside?”

“A-huh…”, was all she could get from her in reply - not even a glance. Mehak never understood how a book could keep Priya occupied for hours at a stretch. She was always fidgety after half an hour at a place, and longed to do something exciting or atleast something different. And books were something she turned to when she was out of ideas to pass time. She had read the first page of The Fountainhead four times before moving on to reading the summary of the book online.

It was 4.30 in the evening and the weather outside was awesome. It was cloudy and cool in April – a rare relief during the Deccan summer and she wanted to make the most of it. She had to go out and she was determined to take Priya with her.

She knew she couldn’t ask Priya to come out for an aimless evening walk, to watch the sun set and to enjoy a slow pace of life while others are rushing past. (They are probably on their way to do something as unimportant, but still!) Her earlier efforts at such things had never got her a positive in reply.

“Isn’t this the kurta you bought last month?” she decided to venture.
“Hmm”
“Is it cotton?”
“No”
“Ohhh!”
“Why?” She looked up.
“Nah I had a feeling it shrank”
“Why? Is it tight?” Priya was effectively distracted.
“Well, a little, but you can manage with a dupatta.”

The book was on the table now.

Mehak continued, “See it is not your fault. The entire system is to blame. You’re loaded with work all week and you’re only left with a weekend for other activities. And ofcourse after all the work, you need rest also.”
“U-huh…”
“Well why do you think most working people are overweight? It is the system. No room for exercise.”

By now she had pushed the cookie box away, turning the opening of the box away from her. She glanced out of the window.

“The weather’s nice na!” she said.
“Ya, I feel like going for a walk.”
“Let’s!”

Priya left to her room, and Mehak smiled as her put on her running shoes.

They began their stroll around KBR. The 40+ers were huffing and puffing alongside in a desperate attempt to ward off prosperity-ailments. Children were running around unaware that the future may turn them into software employees by default in their twenties and rich sick fitness freaks in their forties. Everybody was walking with the crowd. Walking in another direction wouldn’t be too easy anyway, with so many people cruising along the narrow path.

After a couple of rounds, they stopped by to have a mint drink at the drinks stall - the only place in Hyderabad where you’d find a variety of unusual but extremely refreshing “health” drinks. They had planned to go for another round before catching an early dinner. But it was pretty dark already, mainly because of the clouds hanging overhead. They could see flashes of lightning every once in a while and hear the distant rumble of thunder. Priya was a little apprehensive of starting off on another round. There was no way they’d escape dry if they were midway through the walk when the – definite - shower begins.

It was only 5.40 and they were on their way back home. Mehak had no intention of getting back and spending the rest of the evening next to her window. They were almost close to home now. One more right turn and she’d have to make Priya turn back to get to some place else and that was next to impossible. It was now or never. So she tried again.

“Let’s go for an ice-cream.”
“In this weather?”
“C’mon it’ll be fun!”

Priya considered her options. The ice-cream parlor was on the way home, and it was about to rain sometime soon. So it wouldn’t be that bad an idea to stop over, especially if they could avoid getting drenched. And a wait at an ice-cream parlor until the rain stopped would not be that bad. They walked in and seated themselves next to the window, just as it began to pour. It was meant to be a very wet day! Mehak with an extremely pleased look on her faced said, “Mine was a good idea na!” Priya nodded. And smiled!

Choosing an ice-cream wasn’t that tough. They both knew a couple of minutes into the plan, what they wanted to have. A little through their ice-creams, they had decided what all they’re going to order. Today, they were meant to have an ice-cream dinner. The downpour didn’t seem anywhere close to stopping. The storm was only getting worse. The girls didn’t mind - they had a good variety to pick from and a decent paycheck to afford such feasts.

They had finished two rounds of ice-cream and they decided to share one for the third round. It was a full-fledged storm outside. They could hear the wind howling, the heavy drops lashing against the windowpanes and the yellow sunshade outside the shop rattling loudly. Outside their window the traffic had come to a standstill. All the cars honked - their wipers at work and their headlights making the raindrops visible.

“Am glad am not in one of those” Mehak said pointing to the cars. They were done with their dinner. Priya was longing for her book again. It is a totally different experience to read a book next to a window separating her world of fiction from the real stormy world. After a few minutes of looking at the stagnant traffic, they were searching for another pastime. The shop was pretty crowded. Outside the entrance bikes were lined and the holiday-workaholics stood under the sunshade in rain-drenched formals, which their windcheaters failed to protect.

The inside of the shop was pretty full too. They were lucky enough to have come early and found one of the tables at the two-tabled shop free. The floor was all wet and murky by now, with dripping clothes and bags, and mud-caked soles still doing their bit. The chatter in the tiny room and the sound of the storm made it impossible to be audible at the regular decibels.

“It’s getting cold!!” said Priya
“I feel like eating hot pakodas”
“Hehe… now I feel like having them as well!”
“Yeah yum pakodas - onion”
“I want aloo”
“Okay onion and aloo, with sauce. And a hot steaming cup of coffee…”
“Whoa what’s that noise?”
“Maybe the sky is falling”
“Very funny!”
“Or maybe the building is collapsing!”
“Hehehe”

By then they noticed that the people in the shop were looking outside, and the people outside were out of their cars and looking up. The metallic creaking still continued. People began to leave the shop. “To look at whatever it is that’s happening”, they thought. Some outside were shouting, and most inside were confused. More people walked out. “People are so curious even in the rain!” exclaimed Priya.

It was still raining heavily. The people in the cars outside left the cars to move away. But the panic on their faces wasn’t visible from inside. There were still a few people left in the shop, when somebody came to the door and shouted, “Get out quick! The billboard’s falling!”

Everybody began to rush out, all at once - some leaving everything behind and a few others clutching their bags, coats and keys. They also followed. The shopkeeper tried hard to get all the bills cleared before people left. The entrance was jammed with people moving out and the odd one trying to get in to collect some “prized possession” he forgot. There was all the shoving, the stamping of feet, and the verbal abuses. Under most such circumstances the girls would have chosen to move back and wait for path to clear. But this time they couldn’t because the panic was visible.

***

Back in her apartment, Mehak lay on her bed. She looked out of the window and saw the park in the distance. Closer to her she saw the hoarding, lying in pieces on the ground. And under it lay the yellow roof.