The surface is polished. The hair is entrenched around the rear half of the skull. He frowns at the CV for the seventh time. "Where do you see yourself in five years from now?" the chief copywriter of ‘Creative,’ asks. “I see me working on the 12th floor of ‘Creative,” he darts back. “Why ‘Creative?” “Because it is the best and I live here,” he looks the 2nd panelist in her eyes. She radiates a maternal smile. “You have worked in Tamil Nadu, Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan, why do you want to dock your ship now? I bet you enjoy traveling," the head of Media Department stretches her smile. “Yup, I do but I miss my mom and sister. I have skipped her teenage and don’t want to miss her grow up,” he sifts her eyes for the glimpse of motherhood again. This time though, she is business like, "Ok then. You will here from us, if we think you are the right candidate for this job." She wanted him vulnerable; he realizes that as he places the last certificate back in the folder.
Gulu has spent 3 years away from home. He is not half as bitter or mean as he considers himself. Mom typifies the ideal of selfless motherhood; little sis hides her loneliness and acts like a big sis. Any human would feel like a brat around angels. When mom’s call comes during busy hours, guilt pangs his heart for ignoring it.
Chennai has given him an adventure. The unfamiliar culture, language and people have been significant in making him a man. Now, he wants to go back. After all, home is home.
“Why do you talk so much? You are desperate for speech like a Rajashthani for water. Is that’s the reason that you like staying away from home because they can’t bear your tittle-tattle,” Kaushik, his roommate rests his case. Kailash ratifies it with an inebriated and an amorphous “Yeeaaah.”
He stayed back in office today to hang out with colleagues. A foggy regret now gnaws him for making that decision. This is not home, the city sleeps early. Kailash raises his thumb for one desperate last thrust. A genial face asks him, “Where do you want to go?” Kailash sheepishly: “Golden Flats.” Gulu’s grin widens and stops an inch short of laughter. “Ok, Hop on,” he says and they take off on the activa.
“Thanks, I was looking for a bus but at this hour all odds are stacked against me,” Kailash regales Gulu with self-pity.
“So what’s your name?” Gulu asks. “Kailash,” he reveals. “I am from Delhi,” he entertains Gulu’s forays into his life. “Oh, I am from Bombay,” and the butterflies try to break their cocoons.