“I will stick to Beer. No JD for a couple of months… Man!!
They are burning a bigger hole in my pocket?” – I threw my head backwards in
exasperation sinking deep in my chair. I was reluctant to join my colleagues
for our weekly after work drinks, in an attempt to limit my expenditure. But a
beer wouldn’t hurt and I needed to unwind. And so we settled at our favorite
joint close to work.
We were munching on the complimentary peanuts and moong
daal, almost polishing it off, when our waiter arrived with our drinks in a
tray. A golden drink, another Blue, a
colorless one and two bottles of beer.
“Boss, you are late... we are almost done with the snack and
now you bring the drinks?” One of us said whiningly in disappointment.
“Anyways, get some more complimentary snacks please.” The oldish waiter walked
away at a slow pace, grumbling under his breath after putting the tray on the
table a tad strongly than required.
“Did you see that?” I frowned – “Attitude does not pay in
the hospitality industry, yet they do expect a generous tip, don’t they?” My
colleagues eloquently joined me in relating their own stories of how once they
were mistreated by a waiter.
“What!!?? That is nothing. You know, once this chap...
deliberately stepped on my foot while serving us food, just because I sent him
back a couple of times to reheat the food. I did not tip him at all” – he
gleamed with pride at the justice he had delivered. “Saved hundred bucks there”-
he winked.
And from there the
discussion moved on to money matters which was exactly the thing that was
irking me these days.
“Fuckin market these days. I am already 50K down. And to recover that, another 30K is in a
limbo”
“Why do you bother to play this game when you don’t have the
risk appetite?” My colleague asked,
bored.
“Fuck you man!!” I addressed him lovingly – “You drive a
Honda Civic – with a chauffeur – while I drive a hatchback I wouldn’t even
bother to mention the make. If I don’t take the risk I might not be able to
take my family to the Europe trip I promised them a year ago for crying out
loud… Forget the Beer, I need vodka.”
“Easy dude. Just because I drive a Civic doesn’t mean my
life is all roses. You remember I told you about the plot I invested in? Well…
turns out its disputed. I might rather have to sell the Civic and buy that
hatchback of yours.”
And thus we related our stories of chronic financial crunch,
hours of slog, stinker emails, embarrassing salary hikes, work-life imbalances,
demanding family(demanding time), and my favorite – fading ambitions. Glasses
clinked every now and then as a gesture of empathy.
Our waiter returned
with more peanuts.
“Chaccha I ordered another vodka. Don’t see it”. The waiter
stood there for a couple of seconds with a blank face and then spoke
unapologetically, rather sarcastically – “You ordered the FREE snacks sir. I
bring that.”
“UH-NO, I ordered the drink as well. Ahh! Nevermind, could
you please get it now, and …” The waiter turned around to leave before I
finished speaking. “…and hurry up at that?” I heard a sharp ‘pcchh’ sound from the direction our waiter walked.
“What is the matter with him? Did you not tip him well the
last time you were here?” My other
colleague decided to blame me for our ill treatment.
“Actually, I haven’t seen him here before. Must be new. He
does look out of place. Way older than the rest of the waiters.
We were brought back to the topic by another colleague of
mine, “Hey by the way next week on Diwali you have a chance to book your
profits. Heard of Muhurat trading sessions? ” .
“Aah yes, but I think
I have had it enough.” The vodka burned in my throat as I took a big gulp and
sat straight. “Enough of this extra
marital affair with stock market. I am going back to my ‘wife’ - my business
venture, who I had been ignoring.” I
think it was the vodka that brought out the weird analogy.
“Oh you are still on it?”
“When was I ever off it? Dude I have spent sleepless nights thinking
about the impact my product will have in the industry.” My adrenalin made me
restless on my chair. “ Ideas keep popping up in my head like popcorns and I
get so excited and anxious ... that I have so much to do and I am running out
of time. Who needs a workout ? Just have a far-fetched dream, and you will have
your daily dose of cardio lying on your bed at 2 am.” I was a little high by this time. “ I regret over the lost opportunities,
lucrative opportunities abroad that I turned down for the sake of starting ‘something of my own’. God knows I could
have been driving that civic today, if only I had given up on my convictions –
if you sense the irony of that.”
My friend gave out his lopsided smile of agreement. “Take a
break. Your adrenalin has used up all the alcohol in your blood. You need
another. Now where is this guy?” My colleague cranes his neck to locate our
waiter and saw him approaching at a painstakingly slow rate.
“Who hired this oldie for a bar?” I would have liked an
answer to that rhetorical question.
Our waiter finally approached our table, straight faced, and
put the tray at one corner of the table. He started to leave when I almost
yelled -
“Excuse me!! Do you mind making the drink for me , or
at-least place it where I can reach it?” Sarcasm in my tone.
“pcchh” again . He
made an imprudent motion and in a split second the glass was on the floor,
shattered . The loose thread of the table cloth was still stuck between the
gaps in his watch. I was fuming now and was about to utter something hurtful
when I saw our waiter picking up the pieces with tears in his eyes. My anger was now turning into curiosity and
confusion. I was on a back foot now for the fear of being held responsible for
his misfortune. I asked him, “What’s the matter chacchha?” in a concerned,
friendly tone hearing which he began crying uncontrollably. We made him sit
with us till he gained composure.
“Here, have some water. Why are you crying in this manner,
it’s just a glass, no big deal.”
“It is a big deal Sahib. And it is my fault. I had been in a
foul mental state and this happened.” He spoke wiping his tears, on his sleeve.
“The manager is now definitely never going to give me the advance payment that
I had been asking. I will have to return home without the fire crackers I
promised my grand-children for Diwali. I
spend sleepless nights worrying about my son’s recovery. He broke his legs
after he suffered a fall on the construction site he works in. Now sahib, for a
daily wage earner like him isn’t it the end of all hopes. But I had to step up. These are not the times
when an old man can spend an entire day lying on a charpoy reading newspaper,
playing cards and sleeping. I had to
work. I haven’t told my son that I work here, serving food and drinks. He will
be hurt. But there is no choice. I could afford to ask my grandchildren to pick
just one treat for Diwali - Clothes, sweets or crackers. Without a second of
thought they jumped for crackers. Oh the joy. I could see the sparkles of
crackers in their eyes. I tried to convince them to choose clothes or sweets
which they could enjoy for longer than crackers. But children think and feel in
mysterious ways.”
“Working at this bar gave me some hope to fulfill their
wish, but I keep breaking things and being yelled at. But you are nice people,
you did not yell at me.” I was
embarrassed at this undeserving praise.
“Well, this is life. We got to do what we got to do. I am
sorry sahib for this mess.” He rose up with his tray, wiping his face. “I will bring
another one, quickly.” He smiled sheepishly and left.
There was several moment of poignant silence between us. I
couldn’t help but imagine an uneven weighing scale with a European holiday on
one side and a bunch of fire crackers on the other.
