Kyon G? Parle G?

The wiper swished across the windscreen, rhythmically as she waited for the traffic lights to turn green. The bright red of the signal was watered down by the fat raindrops sliding down so fast, as if they were little kids on the park slide, they made the same joyful noise too! She smiled at her own metaphor, as the window was knocked on, by a small dark hand! She could see the puckered fingers after a long dip in water… undesired, unwanted, unrequired! The small dark face that accompanied it, slowly came to light, bringing to view the bright eyes, and an even brighter smile that t neither the gloomy sky, nor the gloomy weather could tarnish. She smiled back as she reached for the packet of Parle G, and gently handed it over with, ‘Sab theek Chottu?’ (All OK, Chottu?)

“Haan Didi! Aur aap?” (Yes, and what about you?)

It never failed to impress her that he always inquired about her wellbeing. This little mite all of 10, probably 11, at a stretch maybe 12 years old. Homeless, and yet with a family he cared for. They lived under the Flyover.

She recalled clearly when it all started, a few years back…. She used to ride her Royal Enfield then. Taken unawares by the Mumbai rain, she was drenched to the core. The helmet did a fabulous job of protecting her head and the gloves her hands, but the soothing rain was balm to her tired body, like Ayurvedic shirodhara!  As her helmet fogged up, blurring her vision, she stopped at the first café she spotted. Bandra never ceased to surprise her.

A steaming cup of tea soon found its way into her cold hands. The aroma of the spices, ginger, cardamom, a hint of pepper and cloves instantly warmed up the atmosphere. Over the rim of her cup, she spotted the warmest, friendliest smile ever. As the warm tea spread its magic down her throat, warming her heart, her eyes travelled up to spot the owner of Mr. Charming Smile. The smile extended right upto the light brown eyes, twinkling in the warm lights of the café, adding its warmth to the entire room.

He looked up just then responding to her probing looks. ‘Ek ladki bheegi bhagi si, khoye raaton me jaagi si….’ was playing on the radio. Walking towards her he extended something…. Her heart beat increased, yes she knew she was attractive but ,’Love at first sight? Nah! It only happened in movies and books.’ ‘Excuse me… what you need right now is this…’ ‘Ooops! What should she do? What should she say?’ Perplexed she looked down, and that’s when she saw… the Parle G biscuits, offered to her on a plate!

How she laughed at herself…. Thanking him, she picked one, taking a demure bite, sipping the hot masala chai, and the saga began. Chai, them, and Parle G! That Monsoon, her first in magical Mumbai, left its indelible mark on her life. Suraj entered her life, shining through the grey pall of the monsoon but lingered on to brighten her days and nights, day after day, year after year.

And Parle G? Lived happily ever after with them!