Benny Verghese was the oldest of four brothers. The other three after him were not very important in the lives of Benny's classmates, although to him, they were the most important people in the world. Of course, they were. Benny hated his parents. Then again, most fifteen year olds do. But Benny was different, he was the only eighteen year old in his grade 10 class.
Roll number twunty-too..
Yes miss, replied Ajay.
Roll number twunty-tree..
No response.
Roll number twunty-tree..
He is not feeling well miss, said Ajay. Benny Verghese was number twenty-three. To Ajay, Benny was like an older brother. If only Benny knew Ajay looked up to him.
In later years Ajay would often wonder if it was undying, unrequited love for Benny that had prompted him to cover up for Benny's absence in class. He would not give the thought more than half a second in fear that somehow his sexuality might be compromised. Ajay suffered from mild homo-phobia that plagued most of the heterosexual male populace. Although once he did not have any problem professing his love for Benny at a reunion albeit slightly under the influence. Later he did add that it was brotherly and non-sexual. Benny was someone Ajay wished had stood up for him, while the teacher beat the living day lights out of him for lying about a fellow student's leave of absence. If only Benny knew.
To Ajay, Benny had always been an eight-ball solution. At work, when the boss barked down Ajay's throat at work or in school when a sullen professor handed back a D-grade assignment, he would often think What would Benny do ? The reply to this question would mean he would have to pick a fist fight with his grumpy superiors, be dragged to a police station and then spend the night outside a church - drunk, so that in the morning, a kindly nun would offer him warm milk and some sound advice.
Roll number twunty-too..
Yes miss, replied Ajay.
Roll number twunty-tree..
No response.
Roll number twunty-tree..
He is not feeling well miss, said Ajay. Benny Verghese was number twenty-three. To Ajay, Benny was like an older brother. If only Benny knew Ajay looked up to him.
In later years Ajay would often wonder if it was undying, unrequited love for Benny that had prompted him to cover up for Benny's absence in class. He would not give the thought more than half a second in fear that somehow his sexuality might be compromised. Ajay suffered from mild homo-phobia that plagued most of the heterosexual male populace. Although once he did not have any problem professing his love for Benny at a reunion albeit slightly under the influence. Later he did add that it was brotherly and non-sexual. Benny was someone Ajay wished had stood up for him, while the teacher beat the living day lights out of him for lying about a fellow student's leave of absence. If only Benny knew.
To Ajay, Benny had always been an eight-ball solution. At work, when the boss barked down Ajay's throat at work or in school when a sullen professor handed back a D-grade assignment, he would often think What would Benny do ? The reply to this question would mean he would have to pick a fist fight with his grumpy superiors, be dragged to a police station and then spend the night outside a church - drunk, so that in the morning, a kindly nun would offer him warm milk and some sound advice.
Benny's solutions were always too impractical for logical and self-confessed bores like Ajay. Circumstantial complacency had become an inherent part of his nature. To console himself, Ajay called himself a survivalist, but in the heart of heart - he was just another grey soul with no balls whatsoever.
Why Benny ? Why now ? Because Ajay is at work today - the ministry of white out, where there are no bosses to yell at him, or superiors that shine a light through his ears to check for brains. He just has a chatty receptionist, Brenda - a fifty-five year old with more make up than KISS and David Bowie put together. Boredom made him go back in time, and wonder what Benny might be up to.
Why Benny ? Why now ? Because Ajay is at work today - the ministry of white out, where there are no bosses to yell at him, or superiors that shine a light through his ears to check for brains. He just has a chatty receptionist, Brenda - a fifty-five year old with more make up than KISS and David Bowie put together. Boredom made him go back in time, and wonder what Benny might be up to.
Back in 1997, when the whole world was latching on to Hotmail and Yahoo, Benny had given up letter writing, simply because he had nobody to write to. He was without an address, because his parents had kicked him out after a short tryst with ganja, more specifically, his brother's ganja. Benny covered up for his brothers at home much like Ajay covered up for him in class - agreeably the most thankless job in the world. All of this meant, Benny could not be contacted, ever.
Benny existed only in stories at reunions. His adventures ranged from getting kicked out of Australia for impregnating his landlord's Catholic daughter, to becoming a Wanted Head in Kuwait for riling against his bosses' abuse of imported labor, to being a member of the Indian intelligence agencies - a far fetched rumour this was, because knowing Benny he would never ever volunteer or work for the government of anywhere. Who knows, Benny could be Ajay's neighbor for all that he knew. The odds of bumping into Benny around the corner were as high as they were low because with Benny Verghese anything is possible.
And then Ajay heard a familiar voice. A voice that he had heard almost a decade ago, when he was fifteen. He asks Brenda to stop talking and follows the voice that leads him to his boss’ door. Ajay’s heart beats faster. Could it be Benny ?, after all with Benny Verghese anything is possible.
Ajay does not bother knocking on the door and opens it.
A dark haired man sits across the boss, with his back to Ajay.
Benny !, Ajay exclaims.
The dark haired man turns around and smiles. The face looks familiar to Ajay, but he is not sure.
Benny ?, he inquires again.
I’m sorry ?, the dark haired man throws a quizzical look.
Could you please knock next time ? growls the boss.
Ajay closes the door behind him a little dejected.
I’m sorry Mr. Pascal, he is an entry-level temp. Believe me our little firm is all about opportunities, and second chances, as you just witnessed.
The two mid-level executives share a laugh. The kind of laugh that only starched collars could afford.
Pascal Ajay sighs and gets back to his desk and Brenda and thinking about roll number twenty three.
Two more hours to pack up. Why is the clock stuck at three ?
