‘It seems that the dabba-wallah is unlikely to come today, thanks to the trains being disrupted.’
‘Come over. You can share my lunch.’
‘But that would inconvenience you.’
‘Not at all.’
‘Why don’t we eat out instead?’
‘What about my lunch?’
‘Take it back home.’
I couldn’t refuse his urging.
‘Fine.’
We went over to Kelkar Bhojanalaya for lunch.
We talked about a lot of things in the hour or so we spent there.
The first topic was whether he was able to meet the attendance deadline.
He had missed it by just two minutes, apparently.
‘So what do you plan to do about it?’
‘Get the late entry condoned. Twenty of us were late.’
‘The head clerk should have the sense to understand that if so many people are turning up late, there must be a problem with the trains. What’s the point of first marking people late and then having each one put in an application for deleting the late entry? It’s such a waste of time and energy.’
‘Tambe, this is nothing. Last year, one Mr Rajwade passed away. He used to work in our department. Many of us, including the boss, went for the funeral. But we were marked late that day. What do you say to that?’
‘Khambete, it feels like we’re still in school. We should thank our stars that we’re not asked to produce a letter from our parents for coming late.’
‘Are we going to waste our entire lives trying to correct the late entry in the register?’
‘What else can we do? Khambete, we’re still young and can jump onto a running train. We can stand on the footboard if needed. What are we going to do once we get older?’
‘Tambe, I’m not going to be one of those standing on the footboard. I’m taking the law exams.’
‘I hope you’re able to get out of this nonsense. I can’t, but I hope at least you do.’
I don’t know what he liked about me, but within a matter of two days he visited my home with his family in tow.
He said, introducing his wife,
‘Meet my headache, Mrs Sushma Khambete. And these are my yuvraj number one and yuvraj number two, Rajesh and Mukesh.’
‘Wah! I like their names.’
Sushma vahini added,
‘I call him Mukund. I don’t like Mukesh.’
‘What if he starts singing like Mukesh?’
‘I’d love it. There can be another Mohammed Rafi or another Mahendra Kapoor, but there can only be one Mukesh. Vahini, what do you say?’
My wife said,
‘I say we move the chairs near the fan and have a nice cup of tea.’
Everyone laughed out loud.
‘You didn’t tell me your headache’s name,’ Khambete said.
‘He doesn’t think of his wife as a headache.’
‘Arre, I think he just doesn’t have the courage to tell the truth,’ Khambete said, winking.
‘Will you please hold your tongue? This is the first time we’re visiting them. What will they think of us?’ Sushma vahini reprimanded her husband.
‘What will they do, stop talking to me? What do you say, Tambe?’
‘No … not at all!’
‘I am the way I am. And I’m not apologetic about it. This bloody life moves at such a rapid pace, where’s the time for regrets? If you like someone, you like them. If not, you don’t. Period. What do you say, Vahini?’
‘I agree. That’s the way people should be. I keep telling him the same.’
Khambete was a bit rattled by my wife, Sumati’s reply. He hurriedly clarified, ‘Vahini, that isn’t entirely correct. The very statement that “people should be like this or like that” is not right. I say, let everyone be the way they are. Every person is a pattern.’
The chitchat continued until late at night. They finally left at half-past eleven. After we’d seen them off at the door, my wife said,
‘I’m surprised he calls his wife a headache. I wasn’t able to understand why.’
‘He doesn’t mean it. It’s his way of having fun.’
At times, I worried about the pace at which our friendship was developing. We would go for outings and movies together. Once in a while, we would enjoy a play or a music performance. The exchange of any new dishes prepared had become a regular affair. Khambete was a bright fellow and was clearing his exams rapidly. There was no doubt he would leave the municipality soon.
I’d made him a standing offer: I would support him by doing anything he required for his exams.
Most intelligent men have some idiosyncrasies. Khambete was no different.
Sushma vahini had a brother. Khambete had broken all ties with him for some trivial reason. We came to know a lot about each other as our friendship deepened. When I found out about his feelings towards his brother-in-law, I told him, ‘Khambete, you say one shouldn’t waste life, and that it moves at a fast pace. Then is it worth nursing a grudge against someone for the rest of your life?’
‘Tambe, Sushma’s brother is a miser by nature. I tried, but eventually I realized that it’s not worth having any sort of relationship with him. Yes, life is too short for us to repeat our mistakes.’
Seeing that his mind was made up, I decided to let it go.
Our families got along splendidly. Undoubtedly, his wife was wiser, and better at maintaining relationships. Khambete could barely get by in these departments. In short, Khambete was smart but his wife was wise. Still, his intelligence made me overlook his other faults.
Sushma vahini and my wife were on a first-name basis now, having declared themselves sisters. They had become really close.
One day Khambete called, which wasn’t unusual.
‘I have to talk to you about something important. I’ll see you in the evening at your place.’
‘You don’t need to take my permission for that.’
‘I didn’t ask for your permission. I was just informing you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
That evening he asked,
‘Can you lend me five hundred rupees?’
‘Five hundred? My god!’
‘Why do you have to summon your god for a mere five hundred?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘I know, but…’ he hesitated.
‘Why, what happened?’
‘I don’t believe you.’
I got up, but he held my arm.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ll show you my bank passbook.’
‘It’s not
