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Afternoon and Desires

He was happy when he sat at window. It was 2 p.m. and rains are playing their usual wait game. City is too humid and too hot to walk in the afternoon. He was roaming from morning 8, he had visited lot of shops trying to sell his product. And as he was sure of the outcome, he was returning home to have his lunch and to provide some false hopes to his daughter, who regularly inquires about new mobile he has promised to her. He remembered the way she insisted on having mobile with him. She said father of her every friend has mobile and how they call their father in the evening to be at home as early as possible. When he made a sure-looking defend that how can she call him as they have no phone at home. To his surprise and then a knock on whatever self-esteem he has, his daughter replied, “ Viju(the college going son of his neighbor) has a phone by which he can make free calls on particular network. You will purchase that phone only. It is cheap and it is colorful. It has even fm too. You can listen to your favorite Hindi songs which you often sing or try to listen on radio. That radio has become dumped. Papa, please but it na.” to close the matter for time-being he promised her that he will buy phone as early as he can.
Whenever he sees advertise of phone, he remembered his promise. He thought that being a child, she will forget her demand in few days. But she showed miraculous persistence. Last week, she asked him why he is so stingy and he doesn’t love her. She had never kissed him from next morning. Now he is afraid of her small but intense hatred. A look in her eyes, the way she used to hug him when he returns home were his moments when he can forget all the difficulties. Now when he enters home, he tries to be as aloof from her as he can. And he felt a knife has been stabbed deep in his chest, so deep that he cannot even cry.
Bus started. At third stop, a young lad got in the bus and sat next to him. He looked curiously at that boy. He was wearing a green and white t-shirt, a pant with lot of pockets at all possible places and shoes, which were imposing their cost on anyone who look at them. He must be in college as he had a empty looking sack on his back and he carried it as if it is most useless thing he had. He was wearing some wooden ring in hand, and a shining chain around the neck. He also smelt a strong smell, must be a scent or deodorant. He sighed, looked away from window. When he passed his 12th and started looking for jobs, he used to envy riches. Now, as he has reached a truth of his life that his fate is to be a observer of this exhibition of money, he has become less bitter. But, for those initial moments of observation, a acidulous feeling seized him.
That boy put his hand in one of the pockets. He had one pouch in his hand. And, then he(not boy) felt a strong blow on him. He had one extravagant phone in his hand. He put earphones and started listening to music. Boy was around 19. His skin was fair. He seems to him like a pearl kept in careful custody and used on ceremonial occasions. His father has given this mobile to him. It was an easy conclusion. And then, he remember his promise. Realization of his lack of money made him to forget his hunger. Now, he was looking constantly at that phone. Boy has loosely hold phone. One of his fingers has a ring. He pressed some keys, he had closed eyes and was shaking his body. He felt nothing for what that boy was doing. He was looking at phone. As if it is only thing that could have answered and solved puzzles and jigsaw that he had.
Bus was reaching destination. He checked his bag. It was as filled as he had in the morning. No sell In the morning. Bus tickets and a cup of tea had cost him 13 rupees.
Again he looked at that phone. That boy was preparing to get down. He followed that boy.
Boy got down. He too. His eyes were fixed on mobile. Now that boy was going to other direction. He felt that he must keep watching that mobile. A continuous watch may make that thing real and in his possession. ‘Mobile, papa, mobile. You don’t love me papa. Papa you can listen to those songs. Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan. Touch of her lips’
Mobile that mobile.
He ran away after that boy. He snatched mobile from his hand, it was loosely held. His nails made a scratch on that pink, healthy skin. He cried. He shouted, “thief, thief”. He ran away with mobile in his hand. Some people were chasing him. That boy was yelling. He was running with all his might. He had it in his hand now. He ran in spider of lanes he saw. He heard calls of thief. And they faded. He had bitter happiness he had never felt before and satisfaction of unknown revenge.
He reached home. Hid daughter saw him, saw his state and a mobile in his hand. Her eyes sparkled for a moment. And then with the sheer disbelief, she said, “why you did such thing , papa? Why you stole it?”

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