One of Those Sundays
Call it a fluke or fate — even I’m not sure. But last Sunday ended up being one of those rare days that quietly forces you to stop and take stock. Maybe it’s because I’ve made a decision — a promise, really — that I won’t leave this world without leaving behind something meaningful.
There have been many Sundays. Many days that came and went unnoticed. But this one felt different — like a dream that most of us secretly hope for.
I had some unfinished business to attend to — a SIMCAT exam that went horribly wrong, mostly because I was too busy fiddling with a pair of sundried sticks, trying to familiarize myself with a local custom. I came home exhausted — mentally drained from the test, physically spent after a brutal leg day at the gym.
There we were, all of us, sitting around, talking about the future of HR and the state of the world. As always, the conversation spiraled into big ideas and philosophical musings. I’ve always believed there’s no “problem” as such — just people, their questions, and their evolving attempts at answers. Someday, maybe, man will even stand before God and argue that creation could’ve been engineered better.
But let’s leave metaphysics aside and come back to life’s randomness.
I steered the conversation toward a conclusion — partly because I know how these debates go, especially among us argumentative Indians. It was time for something lighter. Just then, Sunaina — the new favorite at Transit — floated the idea of catching a movie. Everyone agreed. So did I, albeit reluctantly, already bracing myself for three hours of overly choreographed action and wise-talking animals. But it takes creativity to craft that stuff — I’ll give them that.
We moved from philosophy to laughter, food, and fun. Group dynamics kicked in — the plan started losing steam as interest fizzled out and people peeled away one by one. The girls had a new movie plan of their own, and, true to my dad’s principle that no one truly understands the female mind, Hema suddenly asked if we’d join them. Dipankar didn’t need much convincing. Something in his brain fired and he said yes — impulsively.
We tagged along. But, as expected, the movie didn’t happen. The girls changed their minds at the last minute. We found ourselves back at Transit, bored, contemplating life again. “Work done equals zero,” said Kamlesh. We laughed like fools. Even Krisnan — our lanky South Indian environmental engineer — cracked a smile.
That’s when Navin’s car pulled up. With his usual sarcastic flair, he stepped out, followed by Karthikeyan, who wore the satisfied grin of a man who’d just resigned from his corporate grind at HZL. Finally, it felt like something might actually happen.
I suggested a drive. Navin wasn’t interested — said he was going to nap. That deflated the energy for a moment. But I was determined. I had to get out. We ditched the original plan for Jaisamand Lake and settled on a drive to Eklingji Temple instead.
Dipankar, Vaibhav, Krisnan — and of course, the driver (me) — got lucky. I even tried inviting Deepshika for fun, but true to form, she declined. No harm done.
There was a strange thrill in the air. I don’t usually take risks when I have passengers, but something took over me that day. A kind of madness. I wanted the world to know how fast I could drive. We hit 140 kmph — on hilly curves.
Dipankar, freaked out, muttered that the car was floating — like “Madhuri Dixit’s hair in slow motion.” Vaibhav stayed cool — maybe he’s just surrendered to life’s randomness. Krisnan? He didn’t say a word. Maybe he just trusted me with the wheel.
In no time, we reached Haldi Ghati — a place of legendary battles, both sacred and fierce. Then guilt struck. I had a friend who’d traveled 120 km just to hang out, and I’d left him behind. So we turned back — again at 140.
At one point, a Qualis tried to overtake us. I was doing 110, stuck behind a truck. Loud music playing. I was wondering, “Is this guy seriously trying to race me?” And in the middle of all that chaos… something happened. The car’s vanity mirrors clattered. We barely noticed what hit us.
Comments
no more words.............great Sunday