Once a Coward, always a coward- a true advertising story. Those were heady days of advertising, and Channel launch parties were fun. That week, a well-known niche channel launched yet another heavy duty programme at a five-star property in the Juhu area.
It was Friday, so a few friends and I landed at the event. The launch had to do something with the pyramids, and a sparkling pyramid was at the hall’s centre. After a short AV and even a shorter speech, the bar opened. Invitees took time to align with their circle, and I joined my industry circle. Networkers, like vultures, circled at the edges to catch the unsuspecting potential prey.
The smokers moved to the open smoking area. In industry events, smokers smoke more than usual, and you can blame it on free drinks and the company. Carrying our single malts, We stepped out to smoke. By the time, We finished smoking, and the glasses were empty too. Wanting to refill and join the rest of the gang, we walked back to the bar. It was then that I saw one of the most beautiful lady moving toward the smoking zone. I felt I knew her but could not place her.
Unsure, I winked at my understanding friend, and we were back for another smoke. Honestly, we were just admiring her. She wore a red sari with a sleeveless blouse, and matching bangles adorned her slim creamy wrist. She carried a small silver clutch purse. And then, She elegantly took a cigarette case and tapped out a stick. She fumbled, looking for a light. She had forgotten to carry the lighter. My friend obliged her with my lighter, and I saw her smile. The smile was meant for me, and this was not our first encounter.
She took her first deep purposeful drag and smiled, but she did not say anything. I knew nothing about the art of initiating conversation with strangers, and definitely not if the stranger was a beautiful lady.
We left the smoking area with nothing much to do and moved inside for a refill. I looked back and found her lovely eyes boring at my back. Faces like her can haunt you; you can’t get them off your mind.
After some time, She came back and joined her circle of friends. Tall and highly graceful in that low cut blouse, she was the centre of attraction in that group of reasonably senior members. I found an obscure corner from where I could see her. Her name was still lost in memories, but the face had started making sense. With time, the crowd started thinning. I moved for my last refill and found her at the counter. As I started walking, I heard her say, ‘smoke’, and I looked around to make sure it was me she was addressing. And her eyes were invitingly smiling.
Those eyes were one of the most beautiful sad eyes I have ever seen. They were bland, lifeless, but hypnotic as ever. I was led to the smoking zone, and we were now alone. And then she opened up.
She was with Rahul (identity changed), a senior industry member. I knew I knew the face. I was still trying to remember when she fired the next bouncer. She was an Escort, and Rahul was her regular. They had booked a room in the hotel. I was sure she was drunk, but her face told a different story. She must be playing the sprite for vodka trick. And bang, the name flashed. Everything cleared up, and I almost stumbled as a collage of images danced in my mind.
I remembered her. I heard her say, ‘I would not be here if the dance bars were still open. At the bars, we just danced, and most of us were not in the trade. Once bars closed, I moved to Bangalore and then to Kolkata, and I had no option but to get into this. Looking me straight in the eyes, she leaned and asked, ‘don’t you think they should not have closed dance bars?. I did not want to get into that discussion. I remembered having the same conversation many years back with young bubbling and enchanting Tanya.
She saw, and now we were on the same page. She deliberately took a long drag and leaned forward to whisper into my ears. ‘Room 1115, it would be nice if we could just have a drink and talk for old time’s sake. Rahul will take long, and he is so dead anyway’. A part of me wanted to join her and hear her story. A part of me was busy imagining possibilities. But it was not to be. Somewhere, a part of me wanted to get out. I have heard her loud and clear, and she had purposely disturbed my buried memories and rusted emotions.
I walked in and saw Rahul; he was tipsy but in control. He was definitely looking forward to some good time. I looked at my watch; it was 1115. Was it sheer coincidence, or was there a message for me? I knew I was on shaky wickets. Fortunately, something held me back. I joined Rahul and his circle for a few more drinks before calling it a night. I was happy; there was no way now Rahul could perform tonight. But why was that even important to me. What he did with his life was his problem.
As I crossed the lobby, my mobile vibrated. The SMS read. ‘I knew you would never come. Once a ditcher. Always a ditcher. Coward. Bye’. ‘At Campus bar, you wanted so much from life. It looks like I don’t know who the real Sanz is.
I dialled and calmly said, ‘Driver, bring the car’. I pressed the music console and listened to ‘Wo Sarabi Kya Sharabi Dil Mein Jiske Gam Na Ho’ from the movie Musafir- and in mind- the image was not of Koena Mita but Tanya in blue Ghaghra at the Campus bar.
When I see Rahul at industry events, including Goafest, I see Tanya, which irritates me. He reminds me of Tanya and our last meeting. And I am reminded that I was a coward and will remain a coward in those beautiful eyes forever. And this was not the first or the only time I heard the word coward.
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