Rustom Daruwalla

It was his innate ability to live in the plane of senses that Kriti liked the most. Cuisines of different cultures, traditions, hues, spices, aroma delighted Rustom Daruwalla. While his natural appreciation of beauty in others were liked by some, it also irked some women on grounds of promiscuity.

In life, as in a work of art, a person's name reveals a lot about his nature. With Daruwalla, unfortunately, his name is the stark contrast of his teetotaller self. Our very own Daruwalla, the seasoned pry with a reputed daily enjoyed crowd, parties and the honeybees but he was allergic to smoke, alcohol and chocolates. Knowing his aversion for the god's nectar, once the chief editor of his newspaper got the bartender to serve him horlicks in a party.

Daruwalla threw tantrum seldom and could easily manage to keep his aggression under wrap. However, on a breezy Monday evening, as all in 'Honest Times' newspaper office buried themselves in their copies, there was an explosion. All shocked colleagues raised their heads to find Daruwalla in a fit of anger, hurling abuses at the person on the other side of his cellular phone.

Five minutes later, all looked at each other with mischiveous smiles and retreated into their copies. Luck had saved the public relation officer with head of cabbage from falling on the chopping board as he committed the hineous crime of getting Daruwalla’s mobile number!

“I do not like people intruding into my personal life. They all can contact on office land-line number,” explained Daruwalla to a puzzled colleague, Kriti when she got curious about the rationale behind his mystery.

Daruwalla almost seemed like God’s answer to chaos. He was almost always particular about his signatures on attendance sheet, filling up outdoor duty forms on time, replying to all emails, even seemingly insignificant ones, answering all calls with the same tone. Watching him in the office was like watching a virtuoso performance. With him in charge, nothing seemed impossible- reporting, writing, editing, giving story ideas to juniors, even nursing the god-forsaken hopeless souls in office.

Clearly, he had a habit of overdoing things. He liked to chew every bit of his food and in the process flex his facial muscles in a manner that attracted eyes. His food was very dear to him as he rarely shared it with others. The way he rinsed his mouth, gurgled and spat into the basin one would be reminded of throwing pebbles into the well.

Six-feet, bearded, pinnochio-nosed Daruwalla would come to office everyday in his high-waist trouser and full-sleeved tailor-made shirt. His feet wore shoes and sandles from Shree-leathers, Kolkata.

Daruwalla did not mind being the butt of ridicule for many as he was very secure and stable with his own self. Beneath the comical persona of Daruwalla, there lurked a clairvoyant, shrewd, business-minded being with a hawk-like mental abilities. Many juniors sought his suggestions and valued his opinions.

Unlike many others, Kriti, way junior than him, found him very interesting. She slowly realized that there were interesting people in the world and then there were those who are just nice. And they can’t always be identical. The interesting people you wanted to be with – their minds were unusual, you saw things freshly with them and all was not deadness and repetition. Kriti longed to know what Daruwalla made of things, what he thought of love, life or marriage.

Kriti sought his opinion. Kriti could sometimes be content when he made her see things in a certain way. He had the ability to look at things from a different angle, he made connections. And then there were the nice people who were not interesting, and Kriti never wanted to know what they thought of anything. They are mostly good, meek and deserved more love. But it was the interesting ones like Daruwalla are lot more fun to be with. The camaraderie, nevertheless, raises many eyebrows but…..well….that’s another story…..another time.

Meghna Maiti