The streetlight shines brightly against a deep blue night sky. Of the five guys present in that corner of the parking lot, two are sitting on the stairs, one stands, leaning against a parked car, and two are sitting on the broad cemented table like upward projection, which borders the staircase.
They are talking about love. One of them, to be precise, the one sitting on the steps, is very drunk and is in a visibly bad shape, as in he looks distraught. One of the two sitting on the cemented ledge of the stairs is crushing weed while the one standing is talking animatedly.
"Uh have to believe me on this mate; everyone comes alone, stays alone and goes alone. No one is here for you, nor are you for anyone" then aiming his speech at the drunk one, he said, "If that bitch fucked u over, you should just not give a fuck about her anymore."
A guard, dressed in a combination of blue and black, passes them by blowing a shrill whistle, the guy sitting next to the one crushing weed gestures towards the guard and the one crushing weed stops, looks at the guard, shrugs and seals a nicely rolled slim joint with a swift lick of his tongue.
The one sitting next to the drunken one stares blankly into the space just above the head of the one standing.
The joint is boomed by the guy sitting next to the one crushing, who in turn, sits, looking at the drunken one, who is staring at the ground, intensely.
"She refused to acknowledge me" said the drunken one, still staring at the ground, "you see those people standing there? " he said pointing at a family standing next to their car, at the other end of the parking lot, "she behaved just as they would behave if I went to talk to them, just like total stranger. "
The guard passes them by, whistling; gesturing to other guards, but does not look at them. The joint moves to the guy standing, who now sits between the two guys sitting on the cemented thing.
"You don’t smoke?" asked the guy who had rolled the j to the drunk one, who is now staring at the number plate of the car in front of him on which the guy now smoking the j was leaning previously.
"No mite, don`t make him smoke, he is already too high " he says
"But it`ll do him good " countered the other one, stretching the middle of the word a little.
"No I don`t smoke " finally replied the drunk one, slowly, and with a snigger.
The j goes to the roller, who takes a long chill 'um drag. Suddenly the one who was sitting next to him previously, stands up, dusts his ass, and says, "Bhai, I am leaving” emphasizing on the ‘I’ and without saying anything else, leaves. The two sitting on the cemented thing, keep looking in the direction of the departing one, while the other two keep their gaze fixed at different things, as before.
The night sky turns into a total black from deep blue and suddenly, getting all sentimental about what was going on around, the one who was crushing weed, says "the point dude is, she is not coming back? Is she? So find a new one. How long can you go on chasing the same chick? One has to move on, one day or the other, so why not now? "I have loved Bhai, I was in love and I am in love still, even when she has refused me " said the drunk in a drunk tone, " and now I will wait for her my entire life, and you know what? " he said with such excitement, that the rest were compelled to repeat, "what ".
"Now even if she comes back, I won`t let her into my life again, at the same time I`ll not marry or anything, but wait for her."
There was such aggression in his voice that it made his statement believable, the passion in his bloodshot red eyes was enough to square any rebuttal,
"Look at the way he is talking now mite" is all that is produced, "don`t you get mah point bout individuality mite? Not at all."follows.
Suddenly the silent one, stands up from the stairs, and leaves saying, "nature`s call" grinning.
"He talks?" Says the roller sarcastically, but not loud enough for the answerer of the nature`s call to hear.
The two left on the cemented thing are passing the j between them, while the drunken one sits staring at the number plate as before.
"So we ah goin to this party in Hauz Khas village mite, do uh wanna come? "
"Me? Dude. No. Now? Not possible." Says the roller who is fidgeting with his phone, and finally after making several hesitant finger touches, comes a broken wail of Thom Yorke, moaning,
Don`t get any /big idea / they are not gonna happen.
The one gone to answer natures call comes back. Grinning.
"Let`s go then, mite, towards booze and chicks "
The drunken one looks up, the ground below is wet. He had been crying. The roller stubs the smoldering roach into the mud, next to the stairs and says, "ok then see you tomorrow " and leaves after shaking hands with everyone. Thom 's voice trailing behind him,
You go to hell for all your dirty mind is thinking.
"Let`s go mite, no point crying" says the only one seated on the cemented thing now and they both climb the stairs and leaves.
The lamp flickers for a while and then holding its ground against the dark, continues shining against a pitch black night sky.
