Story of Sathya

196.Age Matters – By Arjun

( First of all, Stibu mama, congrats for your 200 posts. That is mind blowing for a fact. Second of all, thanks for inviting me (ARJUN aka RJ,) to write on your blog. And the last of all, let’s get back to some leg pulling. 😛 )

RJ and Ste sat staring at the boarding passes of their flight to Delhi. The airport terminal resembled a 5-star fish market, where everyone stuck out disguising masks of ‘respectability’ and ‘decency’. RJ, who observed this, drifted back into thoughts relating this situation to his bunking sessions in college, which eventually used to end up in a multiplex. He recollected himself and his friends, behaving like goons when in a local theatre but when they entered a multiplex they would all transform themselves into Mr. Diplomats.

Ste, who was still scanning his boarding pass through his multi layered glasses with his eyes, all of a sudden turned around and said to RJ- “ yayy..!! I got the window seat.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I turned 22 last week.” RJ lashed back.

Ste dint get the point as he went on to reply dryly- “Me too.”

The announcement was made for the passengers to board the flight, after which it took less than a milli-second for Ste to stand up (like a military man), put his bags over his shoulders and rush to the entrance. Meanwhile, RJ, more like a 22 year old senior citizen, walked pace-deprived towards the formed queue. Ste, who was the first in the queue, turned behind, spotted RJ and exhibited his teeth. RJ waved back, which could have been easily mistaken for a flying-kiss. Anyway, the queue trickled into the aircraft with RJ being one of the last to enter in. The air-hostess greeted him with a wide, pretty and an attractive smile which reminded RJ of his present relationship status (a singleton) as his mind talked to himself- “Air-Hostess. Pukka. Confident. Lock kiya jaye”


RJ squeezed through the passage towards his seat to find that Ste was already seated beside the window. RJ blinked his eyes twice and discovered a fully make-up clad girl seated next to Ste, in the centre seat across the cramped three seat’er. RJ smiled at the girl, twisted his nose at Ste and slid into the seat next to her. The girl sat sandwiched between RJ and Ste, one young and one old, but both 22. RJ threw laser looks at the girl for durations varying from 1 sec to 1.5 secs, which helped him decided that she was cuteness personified. RJ, smiled like Charlie Chaplin, and enquired- “Hello, I am Arjun, better known as RJ. May I know your name please?”

Ste shot back irritably- “Her name is Smitha. She’s going to Delhi to meet her brother.”

RJ said sheepishly – “Oh that is nice,” as he made signals with his eyes towards Ste as if to say- “Shut up and look out of the window.”
Anyway, RJ didn’t lose hope, mustered up a master plan and asked her- “Me and him are friends you know. If you could kindly shift to the left of me, it would be so kind of you.”

Ste couldn’t control his mouth- “Mister. What is your seat number? Better sit in which ever seat you are allotted with.”

“If you can please…………?” RJ replied with a pissed off smile leaving the blank for him to fill up.

Smitha, who seemed to enjoy this, turned to RJ, stretched her hand out and said-“Hi. I’m Smitha. Glad to meet you,” and shook hands. RJ’s mind talking began with an altered version now- “Not air-hostess. Co-passenger. Pukka. Confident. Lock kiya jaye.” Smitha then turned to Ste and said- “ Stephen. I like your name. It’s very sweet.” Ste bent forward, fixing a look at RJ and winked. RJ sat biting his lips.

The air-hostess in the meanwhile came with a tray full of toffees, as RJ emptied almost half the tray into his six-pocketed pant. Smitha took a couple of them, followed by Ste, who unusually took just one toffee against his usual number which varied in multiples of ten. Ste commented at RJ- “Somebody told they turned 22.”

RJ stared back like an angry villain of the 1950s. He sat depressed as Ste and Smitha struck up a conversation and got busy laughing away. Meanwhile, the pretty air-hostess came by and helped RJ fix his seat belt and gave that mesmerising smile again. RJ’s lights glowed as his mind took off just like their aircraft. It announced- “Air-hostess only. Pukka. Confident. Lock kiya jaye.”

Anyway, in the next hour or so, RJ had exchanged about a hundred smiles with the air-hostess with Ste busy sharing notes about his doggy, with Smitha. Meanwhile, the flight began its descent and touched base at the Delhi airport. It was time to alight; it was time to settle matters. RJ and Ste (along with Smitha) waited for everyone to leave, and then finally headed towards the exit. RJ, as he approached the air-hostess began getting tensed as he feared dejection and embarrassment as and when he would express those magical words. He stopped in front of the smiling air-hostess, smiled and began to say- “ I….I …… ..Lo …..”

“I’m 23 and married.” The air-hostess smiled.

“What?” he got submerged in embarrassment, cleared his throat and said shamelessly- “By the way, I was just saying I liked your service” for which he got a sarcastic smile in return.

“I’m just 22 anyway.” RJ announced as if he knew nothing about anything.

“Okay, I’m 26 and engaged.” Smitha made it clear.

Ste lost 1000 tonnes on his smile and said- “ Damn. I’m just 22.”

The three walked away in silence as RJ and Ste heard something from behind, though they weren’t sure if they had actually heard it or if it was just an illusion. It sounded something like- “ PIGS…”

The Solitary Writer
Step right up, it's Ste's show! Join me on my writing journey where I dish out witty tales, thought-provoking poems, and quirky musings on life. I'm a social justice warrior who sneaks in some humor wherever I can. Book, movie, and cultural critiques included. Buckle up, it's gonna be a wild ride!