Page 32 - You Only Live Once [BooksLD]
P. 32

‘Like Raj Kapoor in Mera Naam Joker ?’ I imagine my mother’s face
                turning pale with a dismal frown. ‘Or like Charlie Chaplin?’

                   My father says assertively, ‘Gone are the days of circus, Archana. He is a
                performer. He will be speaking in front of a huge crowd.’ He feeds his ego
                and continues, ‘A startup comedian, yes!’
                   ‘Stand-up,’ I almost correct him as a reflex.

                   ‘Is it okay if we tell everyone that you’ve landed a job with Taj Hotel and
                Resorts in Goa in their IT team. Everyone knows that you are going to get a
                placement soon and none of our relatives can afford to book the hotel. We’ll

                never be caught.’
                   ‘And what will you do when they upload videos on YouTube ? They will
                certainly come across it someday!’

                   ‘Beta , people hardly watch new videos. Sarika aunty has started a food
                vlog. Last time I checked, it had 600 views, I kept refreshing for 4 days, it
                now has 601. Moreover, once the ghost of stand-up comedy stops to haunt
                you, you can get your respectable job in Pune back.’

                   ‘Papa! I am not quitting the internship. I will surely get the final offer.
                Please don’t believe in Ricky’s cooked up stories. Comedy is a hobby. It’s
                temporary. Passion can’t be profession.’

                   I hang up and set my phone to flight mode.
                   The train whistles, indicating that it is time to leave. As the train starts to
                move,  I  slowly  regain  my  sanity,  one  breath  at  a  time.  My  train

                compartment is a classic scene, as always.
                   Sitting across from me is an overenthusiastic man who is dumping his
                religious and political gyan on all. ‘Government job? That’s the best and the
                only thing that you must go for!’ He shouts like a politician begging for
                votes. His finger points to nothing in specific but a rust-clad ceiling fan that

                should supposedly be on a table.
                   ‘That’s what I told her. After all, she has to get married, look after the
                babies.  Why  would  she  go  for  a  corporate  job?  Money  makes  you

                ambitious,’ says the other fellow sitting with her daughter.
                   ‘Chai.  Chai.  Chai.  Kadak  chai,’  a  vendor  passes  by  yelling.  ‘One
                cutting!’ I tell him and hand him a 10-rupees note.

                   ‘NaMo used to sell chai,’ the girl breaks the silence. ‘Had he not been
                ambitious,  he  would  not  have  become  the  prime  minister  of  India,’  she
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