Roll the Dice - Part II

"Good morning, this is your wake up call Sir." a sweet voice aroused Kali from his sleep.
Ayyo, everyday she should wake me up like this, he muttered to himself, as he stretched out struggling to shake off his jet lag.

He stumbled to the washroom, still groggy and turned on the washbasin tap. Only to jump back as a stream of hot water scalded his hand. Damn these fancy hotels. One tap spews scalding water, and the other one will freeze the blood in your veins. Why can't they understand what 'room temperature' water means? Bloody idiots.

One thing he didn't mind in the fancy hotels was the nice smelling body gel they had in the showers. A far cry from the days of sharing one brick of Lifebouy with the whole family. Kali showered at leisure, letting the warm water wash away his tiredness.

Today was an important day. Kali, along with the cohort of 2019, had been invited to Las Vegas for his company's annual off-site. The big bosses will fly in in their private jets, the next in lines had to make do with commercial (albeit, in first class), and even fresh first-year analysts like him were accorded business class. Wait, was that the reason the blonde had smiled at him? Because his company paid extra for his seat? He looked in the mirror, smoothed his hair, stuck a Thalaivar pose and told himself, "Don't worry macha, you are cool da."

Once he was ready, he went across to Senthil's room. "Dei, tie katti kudra". 2 years of business school and six months of a finance career, and he still hadn't mastered the art of wearing a tie. One of the perks of working in a private equity firm was that he didn't have to dress up everyday. Unlike his friends at investment banks. "We roll up his sleeves and get our hands dirty in this business", he mimicked his boss, as Senthil handed him back the tie to wear.

The other thing he didn't mind in the fancy hotels was their breakfast spread. For a guy who was used to eating two naram paos dunked in chai as breakfast, the breakfast buffet was like paradise. Three kinds of jam. As much butter as you want. Warm croissants. Eggs made as you like. Although he doubted whether American chefs knew how to make masala omelettes. But he gathered his plate, filled it up with more food than he could carry, and settled down at a table with Senthil.

"Hello, I am Shruti. Mind if I join you?", she asked, more as a formality as she settled herself into the empty chair.

"Of course, no problem", Kali murmured, as he looked into her dark, wide eyes...

In his mind, he was already married. The blue-eyed blonde and the petite brunette slowly faded away. Yesterday, there had been space in his heart for multiple women. Today, it was reserved for only one.

"I'm Senthil, this is KC", his friend had obviously decided to show that he had more manners than Kali.

"Nice to meet you, guys", she said.

"Of all the tables in all the hotels in this world, she walks up to mine... Play it again, Samy" Kali thought to himself. He continued to stare at her.

"I wish they had a more decent breakfast spread. There's hardly any healthy stuff!" she went on as she picked on some fruits, oblivious to Kali's unabashed staring and his plate full of unhealthy calories.

A girl brought up in luxury can afford to be choosy about what she eats. Wonder what she'll say about two naram paos and chai, he thought.

He had heard about her. Shruti Rajagopalan. Everyone in the cohort of 2019 had heard about her. Her father was an IFS officer, ambassador to some country. She had lived across 4 continents while still in school. Fluent in English, French, Spanish and Mandarin. The popular gossip in the cohort was that she didn't have to attend four rounds of grueling interviews to get hired. After all, there are some perks of your dad being the Managing Partner's golf buddy.   

No big deal, Kali told himself. So what if he hadn't seen 4 continents. Going from Dharavi to Bandra was like traversing two parallel universes. And he had survived. And earned his place at this table. The hard way. After all, his dad wouldn't know which end of the golf club to hold.

They finished their breakfast, she full of bubbly anecdotes about winter vacation spent skiing in the Alps, he nodding along wistfully thinking whether his outing with friends to Kalra Caves would be worth mentioning.

As she got up to leave, she said "Senthil, KC, we should catch up for dinner too. I am bored of sitting with these Americans."

Little did he know that, many years later, he would wonder... If only she hadn't walked up to his table, if only she hadn't held out her delicate hand, if only he hadn't felt an electric shock up his spine as he shook it...

If only.                  

Roll the Dice - Part I

Kaliyaperumal Chengalnathan couldn't believe his luck. He rubbed his eyes, hoping that would make his jet lag vanish, as he stood up to retrieve his back-pack.

"Sir, could you please remain seated till the aircraft comes to a complete stop?", announced the stern voice of the airhostess.

"Dei machi, Anni ukkara solraanga da. Innoru peg kudupaangala nu kelu da", his friend Senthil Kumar joked as Kali sat back with a sheepish grin.

The airhostess sighed. Why did she always end up with at least a dozen of these idiots in every flight. She should ask for a change in sector, she told herself for the umpteenth time. Any sector would be better than dealing with these uncouth idiots hitting on her for 14 hours. They think that just because I am blonde, I will give my number to every idiot who smiles at me? Her friend had warned her when she was allotted the India sector. Bloody perverts, she thought as she glared at the two idiots grinning to themselves.

"Dei, nammalaye pakkaranga da", Kali murmured.

"Ella namma style-u brother. Nee indha karuppu kannadi mattnale oru gethu varum la", Senthil replied. Kali smiled, and adjusted his aviators. One of his recent acquisitions to look cool for the trip. The airhostess continued to glare at him. He waved back with a smile. She forced a smile, remembering her induction trainer barking "Always greet our customers with a happy smile..."

As the aircraft finally reached its bay, Kali stepped off the plane. Rather, floated off the plane. Even the long immigration queue did not dampen his enthusiasm. Here he was, in the United States of America, on his first trip abroad, and a blue-eyed blonde had just smiled at him. And said "Thank you sir, hope you had a nice flight." And smiled at him. In his mind, he was already married to her, and they had two blue-eyed blonde kids, a dog and a house with a pool...

Just three years ago, he was living in a slum in Mumbai. Attending college in the morning, running for CA articleship in the afternoon, rushing back for computer classes in the evening, before a flash visit home to gobble a quick dinner, and picking up his books for late night studies at Sion Fort with his friends. Back then, not one of the girls in his class had smiled back at him. "They should look at me now... especially that vella kaaka Pooja Patil... walked around preening as if she was some Miss Universe!"

He stretched out in the comfortable cab as his eyes took in the glimmering image of shiny hotels amidst the vast emptiness that is the Las Vegas strip. Senthil was already snoring, useless bugger. Slept through the flight after downing all the free drinks. Sleeping through the cab ride now.

Kali's eyes grew wider as they arrived at the hotel. The check-in staff was so efficient, and even prettier than the airhostess. The lady smiled at him as she took his passport, and although she did a double take at his name as she struggled to pronounce it, the smile never left her face. "Good evening, Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. This is your key card. Your stay and all your meals are already paid for. Someone will assist you with your bags. We wish you a pleasant stay." All his life, his friends had pulled his leg with "Kali Chengi". Bloody northies, mangling up such a nice Tamizh name. Even his father had to put up with his Gujarati Seth always calling him "Sengal bhai". Two generations of nomenclature-induced embarrassment in the Chengalnathan clan just vanished thanks to this petite lady, with her polished accent calling him Mr. Chen-Gal-Naat-An. Never had he imagined that his name would sound so fancy. He had branded himself "KC' in college and at his job. And thought that was fancy. It didn't sound as fancy now.

Wow. This is the life, he thought to himself. Fancy flight, fancy car and now fancy hotel. All company paid. Blue-eyed blonde airhostesses smiling at him. Petite hotel reception staff cutely mispronouncing his name. In his mind, he was already married twice now, one blue-eyed blonde wife, one petite brunette, four kids, two houses and two swimming pools...

Life was perfect. Everything was perfect. If only these bloody Americans could put a jet-spray in their toilets, he wished as filled up from the sink his 'spare' water bottle brought specifically for this purpose.

If only.

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