Rohit discovered a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. He stared at it for a moment. Shrugging his shoulders, he took a puff and exhaled the smoke slowly. He surveyed the scene around him. Sophia College Lane was deserted, as one would expect at midnight. The dim street lights only somewhat illuminated the sloping lane. The red tobacco stains on the white wall stood out amongst the assortment of foot marks, food particles, dirt and other decorative attempts.
“It’s the time to disco…La La La La…” A hoarse voice sang out behind him. Rohit turned to see a group of college kids sauntering down the lane. Two girls, dressed in loose tops and tight jeans, walked close to each other, giggling. Staggering ahead of them was the guy singing, dressed in a striped shirt with the top three buttons opened.
Open Buttons continued his sorry attempt to sing. “It’s the time to disco….oh oh oh…yea…oh oh oh…” It sounded more like an asthma patient coughing.
Rohit shook his head and took another puff. The group took no notice of him as they continued down, with Open Buttons blaring on, and the girls exchanging hushed comments.
Their voices faded away into the night. As silence descended around him, Rohit remembered his own college days. Those were such fun times. No job or money to worry about. No sense of responsibility. He took another puff and walked down to the large banyan tree. He stood under it, recalling the times he had come there with friends during college.
“Can you give me a cigarette, brother?” A voice called out, interrupting his thoughts.
Rohit swirled around. A short man appeared from nowhere, dressed in torn rags. His hands were gnarled, his fingers out-of-shape. His face was covered with a thick beard. His pants were rolled up to display swollen knees, expanding outwards like inflated balloons. The skin around the knees took a dark purple color and was mutilated in several places.
Rohit grimaced, and took a step back.
“Please brother, just one cigarette.” The beggar pleaded, extending his right palm.
Rohit stared at those knees, which were swollen the size of beach volleyballs. His stomach churned and his legs felt wobbly. He had to look away. He looked up at the man’s imploring eyes. He brought out a packet of cigarettes, and handed one to the beggar, who eagerly put it in his mouth.
Rohit produced a lighter and lit the cigarette. The beggar took a long puff and started to cough loudly. The twisted hands pressed against his chest as he continued to cough. The coughing barely subsided, and he took another puff. And then coughed some more.
Rohit looked at shrunken figure before him. He became acutely aware how lucky he was. Sure, he had lost his job and his girlfriend had dumped him for some larger hunk. But who was he to complain. Life had been kind to him.
The beggar looked into his eyes. “You’re a kind man, brother. Can you spare me some money? I haven’t had a bite to eat for days.”
Looking at the man, Rohit didn’t doubt it for a moment. He took out his wallet to check how much cash he had.
Without warning, a rough hand grabbed Rohit’s neck. The wallet disappeared from his hand. Rohit could barely register what had happened. He found himself being shoved back against the banyan tree. His cigarette fell to the ground.
The beggar’s eyes glared at him, no longer pitiful, rather red with rage. The black beard drew inches from Rohit’s face. A smell of vomit filled his nostrils.
“Feeling sorry for me, were you?” The beggar’s voice turned into a hiss. “Now, I have your money. Remove your watch and give it to me.”
Rohit’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked and looked at the beggar. The contorted hands produced a long kitchen knife, the kind used to chop onions. The tip of the blade pressed against Rohit’s neck. The beggar’s eyes were the color of blood. If he pushed the blade a little deeper, real blood would spurt out.
Rohit felt his pulse rate quicken. His breathing became shallow. He snapped off his watch and handed it over. The red eyes examined the metal strap and silver dial. A smirk appeared on the man’s face, revealing yellow-stained teeth.
“Good boy. Now, what else you got?”
Rohit leaned back against the tree. The knife blade hovered around his adam’s apple. He swallowed a breath of air. His eyes locked onto the knife.
The beggar slapped Rohit’s chest “Give me your belt….and…your glasses...quickly.”
Rohit obeyed, without a word. He had gone from sympathetic bystander to hapless victim. And it had happened in a flash.
The beggar glowered at Rohit, “Stupid, little rich brat.” He shoved his loot into his shirt, and starting laughing. He laughed so hard that it turned into a cough. His back stooped low, as he spat on the ground. Those inflated knees seemed incapable of bending.
The red eyes caught Rohit observing him. “What you looking at, ha?”
Rohit felt the metallic blade against the skin of his neck again. He bit his tongue.
The beggar continued to stare, without blinking. “Your phone…give it…”
Rohit slid out his mobile phone from his jeans pockets. He extended it towards the gnarled hands. All of a sudden, the phone started ringing.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me…Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak was like me…”
Rohit stared at the phone. He blinked. That wasn’t his ringtone at all. The music grew louder and louder, ringing in his ears. He couldn’t see the beggar. He blinked his eyes again. The music was deafening.
Rohit sat up and rubbed his eyes. His palms were full of sweat. He looked around him. His bed, his desk, his cupboards came into view.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend…” Music emanated from his speakers. The digital display on the radio showed the time as 09:02 am.
“Rohit,” His mother’s voice yelled from somewhere. “Wake up and turn that alarm off.”
*****
