It was quite obvious that he was curious about contacts, the first question that everyone asked me was,
'Are these really made of plastics?' I couldn't help but let out a laughter. Then came the second question, which was even more stupid. 'Okay, is it a glass?' Imagine putting glass in your eyes!
Even though he didn’t ask me anything but I felt a moral obligation to educate him, I told him about the brief history and geography of contact lenses and how it was completely safe and how it was super easy to wear. I bet I quenched his thirst for the knowledge. And when I was done with my long talk he silently took my place in front of the mirror and started doing his strange make-up routine - he had an eyeliner and skin softener and what not. I felt stupid, all the while he was just waiting for me to step aside.
I stepped out and I felt a tingling sensation inside my body when I inhaled the fresh air of the 7 o’clock morning. Sanju asked me to sprint as we were a bit late behind the schedule, the bus doesn’t wait he told me; people had already gathered around the bus just when we reached the stop.
Dawn’s early light glazed through the window, his shirt hanging on the arm of the chair, smell of perfume rose from his body, a pair of footsteps echoed across the hall leading to the room; and then raised the body from the coffin, with its soul left behind, he fitted himself into his man-suit; he was ready for the world.
“What are you thinking?” Sanju caught me smiling all by myself.
“Nothing really, just the mundane” I replied.
Soon after we got seated I realize that I didn’t wear the contacts properly, the left one was pinching my eye. A contact has the full potential to be as irritating as an itchy tag of an underwear – your whole day can be ruined if you don’t wear them properly. Sanju, like a tour guide, spoke of the places we crossed, but my mind was not there, I was uncomfortable. My big day at Pune office and here I was, can’t even blink my eyes.
I was amazed when we reached the Hinjawadi IT park, the big circle, flourishing green lawns around, and big walled campuses, it was something I did not see even in Bangalore. We got down from the bus outside the gate. He took me straight to the canteen which was quite big, not as big as Vizag's but nevertheless it was quite big, it was called twelve. Buildings here were numbered and I thought it was better than giving them stupid local names.
For breakfast I settled for French toast and he ordered a glass of Bournvita. I recalled I had to report to a manager in fourteen, which was right next to the canteen. French toast was cold and bland, so I added a little ketchup to it.
Ishika had a ketchup theory, she use to say ketchup makes everything better or at-least lends an edible grade, the only problem was that now French toast tasted more like tomatoes than eggs. I know, I know the question must have popped up in your mind, “Who’s Ishika?” But hold on for now, more on that later.
I took a cup of coffee to go along, the guy gave me the coffee in a small stainless steel glass. Sanju asked me what I was planning to do today; I told him that I was supposed to meet a manager some Mr. Anand. But I was in no hurry. I didn’t like managers anyway. So, I decided to dedicate my day to absorb myself in the surroundings; which can be literally translated to doing nothing. And so went by the first day in the new city – doing nothing, just hanging around.
Zero Defect
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The Lost One: Story of the One who ends it all (Shiva the Destroyer Book 1) Page 12