Skip to main content

Room Number 69?

"Room number 69?" I asked a half-asleep man at the reception.
"Second floor," he mumbled.
It was one of the shadiest lodges in town.
I had my appointment at 12 AM.
Satan's hour as my friend always calls it.

12:04 AM;
I knocked on the door of room number 69.
I gasped as the door clicked.
I stepped inside and locked the door behind me.
My friend had set me up with this person.
I entered a dimly lit room.
6Ɨ4 cot on the left. A bathroom towards the far right.
There was a window that faced the main road.
TV was on low volume.

2:40 AM;
I'm riding back home in an auto, writing my first draft of an experience.
An experience that changed my life.
Desperate times, desperate measures.
From life changing moments to lessons for a lifetime.
This was a night that changed my life, completely.

12:07 AM;
She lay on her side, absolutely staring at me.
She was beautiful!
I sat on a chair at an arm’s length from the cot.
"Nervous?" she asks.
"This is my first time," I whisper.
"Let’s do it then?" She looked at me.
"I never wanted this," I pushed the chair back.
The chair scraped loudly against the floor.
She was surprised.
"I'll pay you your fee; I'll pay you extra. I just wanna leave.
I stood up, taking my wallet out.
"Well, I charge on an hourly basis. It’s not even 10 minutes," she looked puzzled.
"I'll pay you whatever the amount is," I offered.
"Sit down, why did you even end up calling me?" she laughed.
"I didn't call you, my friend did," I corrected.
"Whoever it may be. What's the issue kid?" she seemed concerned.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

I could've done terribly wrong things that night, but I didn't.
We sat down and discussed life issues.
We spoke, we spoke a lot.
We laughed, we pointed out each other’s mistakes.
She was a person who enlightened me and it would be a sin to call her a Hooker.

It is for nights like these I look forward to, other than late night football.
Life changing incidents can happen anytime, at any place and with anyone.
Never stop believing.
Everyone gets a miracle; I wonder what's yours?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte, There's something about you that left an indelible laughter in my mind ever since the first time I saw you on screen. Wait, do you understand you are no comedian or joker. You are an alcoholic, debt stricken bloke always swaying to and fro between Raju's cunning mind and Shyam's righteous attitude. You affirmed your seniority everywhere but you never made any sense to me or anyone out there. Tenants need to pay their rent. You get it right? On my off days, when I see your unadulterated smile it bewilders me - I mean how can this man live with such conviction and ease. What about his isolated life? His debts? These questions linger on my mind. It's not okay to be unambitious and surrender to your fate but when life doesn't give you 'Star Fisheries', you can always show some content in your dilapidated 'Star Garage'. Your innocent gullibility, incorruptibility and rustic lunacy bought chuckles. Well, you need to learn that Sh...

Tujhe Kitna Chahne Lage Hum...

There comes a phase in our life, where neither can we hold feelings, nor can we let it go. We hopelessly love them without any expectations, without any condition, and even knowing they won't love you back, you still love them holding all the broken pieces of your heart. 'Tujhe Kitna Chahne Lage', is a song that directly holds the feeling we always want to express but we can't. And every time the songs plays randomly from our playlist, we all just feel the song immensely, holding the feelings out, which were graved deep inside our heart. // दिल का दरिया बह ą¤¹ą„€ गया... ą¤°ą¤¾ą¤¹ą„‹ą¤‚ ą¤®ą„‡ą¤‚ ą¤Æą„‚ą¤ ą¤œą„‹ ą¤¤ą„‚ मिल गया // It's not easy to love someone who we know won't love us back ever, where this song is a struggle between heart and mind, and how difficult is it to hold onto the feelings and even its not easy to let it go and move on. This song best represents the unrequited love, the unsaid emotions, and a broken heart. // ą¤µą¤•ą„ą¤¤ ą¤Øą„‡ ą¤¹ą„ˆ किया हम ą¤Ŗą„‡ ą¤•ą„ˆą¤øą¤¾ सितम... ą¤¤ą„ą¤® ą¤­ą„€ ą¤¬ą„‡ą¤œą¤¼ą¤¾ą¤° ą¤¹ą„‹, ą¤¬ą¤°ą„ą¤¬ą¤¾ą¤¦ ą¤¹ą„ˆ...

Tea for Two!

 I pour water in the bright red pot, gleaming on the outside, a bit rusty on the inside. Red was always your color. Your wardrobe was literally fifty shades of it. The familiarity and warmth of the color red make me smile as I bring it to boil. ā€œLook for angry water bubbles,ā€ you used to say when you were teaching me how to make tea instead of stacking my kitchen counter with instant coffee sachets. I take out the twin tin containers marked ā€œsugarā€ & ā€œteaā€ off the cabinet and carefully put them in, systematically counting the number of teaspoons and measuring the amount in each. ā€œI prefer coffee,ā€ I used to whine but would still let you hold my hand as we put in the sugar, not too much, not too less, surprisingly always the right amount. Then in went the tea leaves, a bit less than I'd like, I always had a taste for intense flavors. But I rarely complained for I knew how much you valued your perfect, daily cup of tea. I then pour in the milk, thinking how I'd never been abl...