It was a late September afternoon. It was sunny and hot, a normal day in Chennai, but now suddenly the colours started changing from light to dark. The crimson sky signaling the advent of a warm night transformed into a gloomy, breezy evening full of black clouds. From his room at the Hyatt, Sachin could see people scurry to make their way back home. Like him, they too had least expected the rains. Sipping on his favourite chamomile tea, he did not know what to make of this. He had a flight to catch on Sunday morning which meant that all he had in Chennai was this evening after finishing the role of a representative for a huge group of companies. But there was a brighter side; it would be a much more pleasant evening after the rains. But the breeze’s fury did not let him build any hope of this being a short bout of rain. Resigning himself to nature’s plans he hit the bed. His body anyways was screaming for rest as his day had started early at 4am.
Selvan looked at the façade of Egmore railway station through the broken window that faced him at the PCO shop. He had been working at this phone shop for three years and everyday was sprinkled with encounters with the usual tamilians, bengalis, malayalis and a few foreigners. Nothing much seemed to have changed except that the gothic-styled railway station had received a facelift a few months back. The sudden rain had caught him unaware too but he was used to such surprises. He knew the rain would go away soon and either way it did not make a difference to his plan. In fact he was happy about the rain; it would make his quick drink at the TASMAC bar & restaurant even more fun. Drinking in cool weather was one of the simplest pleasures of lie. He could sense the excitement building up in his mind while he updated the books for his cousin who would take over after he left. He had waited two Saturdays to watch his favourite star Chiyan Vikram’s latest movie ‘Kandasamy’.
His cousin Thomas walked in at about quarter past five and it was time for Selvan to leave. This left just about enough time for him to have a quarter of Bagpiper whisky with his favourite snack beef fry at the bar located five minutes from the shop. This was a sort of a ritual for Selvan. Every evening he walked into the crowed, smoky TASMAC bar & restaurant. It was more of a large hall where every available space was filled with plastic table and chairs. The mortar floor was littered with bits of paper which were used as plates by the bar to serve cheap, dry snacks as fried dry legumes and beaten rice. Selvan had been coming here regularly for the past one year but had hardly changed his menu. He could not get over the taste of the beef fry and never thought of not ordering something else. The beef was sautéed with pepper corns and generous amounts of curry leaves, the taste exquisite and the amount just right to give company to Selvan’s large pegs of whisky and cold water. He did want to try a better whisky though. These days he could barely take a large sip of his whisky without closing his eyes. He had been thinking for a while to try an expensive whisky at least once in two Saturdays. He had also decided which whisky he would buy if he had it his way. He had once seen a young, well-read man drinking ‘Signature’ whisky in the same bar. The amber green bottle had got him tempted. He was sure the taste of the whisky would match the beautiful bottle. It was evident with the way the young man was enjoying his drink. But Selvan somehow hadn’t been able to save enough money to buy this expensive whisky which cost 120 rupees more than his bagpiper for a quarter.
Selvan realized it was 5.45 already and the show at Albert hall would start at 6.00pm sharp. He finished the last peg in one go, cleaned up the plate of beef and made a dash for the theatre. Although the hall was close to the bar, Selvan still had to buy the ticket which would take at least five to eight minutes. As always he bought a balcony ticket which was unusual for a man with his job. But there were a few things life on which he never compromised.
