March 2020:

Rajiv was lost in thoughts inside his plush office, which was part of an obscure looking building made from red bricks in a posh Delhi neighbourhood.

He was remembering the career he had - ups and downs, the races, the maze. Everything he had to do to reach here.
A pair of rimless glasses sat on his nose giving him the look he always admired.

A smiling photo of his now estranged wife was staring at him nonchalantly from the frame on his side desk. He looked at it and exhaled without any reason.
A thought of calling her and listen to her voice crossed his mind. He started fiddling with his cellphone.

His phone rang. A special caller tune he had set for this very special number played out loud and brought him back to the real world.
He picked up the call.
“Kaise ho, Rajiv?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Main theek hoon!”

“Theek hai, aaj raat theek 8 baje...”

“Ok!”
Rajiv came back to life. His face changed. It illuminated with the light of thousand suns. The glow was remarkable!

The very moment Sindhu walked into his cabin. She was carrying a red file.
He smiled at her.

Sindhu’s face turned red with a mix of anger and tension. She had seen this look on Rajiv’s face previously.

Rajiv was about to say something, but before he could move his lips...
Sindhu asked. “Did the call come?”

“Ha! I mean... yeah! Tumhe kaise pata chala?”

“Tumhare Chehra bata raha hai! I mean, sir - the glow on your face...”

“Sindhu, please, now don’t start that...again!”
Sindhu gave one dirty look, threw files on the table, and left without uttering a single word stomping her feet in anger.

Rajiv looked at her back as she left. He picked up the red file; signed on couple of pages and pressed an intercom button.

“Yadav, andar aao...”
Yadav walked in. He looked like bit like a young Anupam Kher, who never looked young even when he was 18!

His bald head reflected the bright LED lights from the ceiling. A strange scent, which was probably a blend of smoke and some cheap perfume was emitting from his body.
A small moustache which resembled a faded paint brush made out of horse’s mane was looking as if it was pasted below his nose with a two-way tape.

His Frog eyes were about to jump out of his face. He shoved himself on the chair without waiting for Rajiv’s permission.
“Sir, call aaya?!,” Yadav asked as soon as he occupied his throne.

“Tumhe kaise pata chala?”

“Aapke chehare...”
“Mere chehare pe...”

Both of them blurted almost simultaneously.
“Theek hai, theek hai... ab kuch kaam kare?” Rajiv retorted.

“Ji, sir...”

“Jugnu kahan hai aaj kal?”

“Baitha hoga kahin apne kisi cellar mein...usko kya hai - na biwi, na bachcha, daru pio, kuch computer pe idhar-udhar karo aur tinder dekho!”
“Jalte ho tum us se?”

“Sir, wo aap to jante hi ho... teen saal pehle tak to sadak pe ghoom raha tha. Main hi usko aap ke pass le kar aaya tha... aur ab dekho... sala...sahab ban gaya hai”

“Bas, Yadav... kaam ki baat kare?”

“Ji.”
“Jugnu ko bolo mujhse baat kare. Rabia ko activate karo. Capt Tanvar ko bolo plane taiyaar kare. Kal hum niklenge.”

“Kahan, sir!? Kaise? Is lockdown mein?”

“Baki kal bataoonga...”
Rajiv left for his home. The route was set. The Delhi police constables posted on the route were aware of his vehicle.

He crossed all barricades without stopping even once and parked his white Gypsy inside the compound of his little bungalow in by lanes of Lutyen’s Delhi.
He stepped out. His black Labrador pounced on him.

“Bas... Bahubali...bas!”

“C’mon in...let’s go! Good boy!”

Both of them entered the house. He went straight to the bar poured a large one from his bottle of Glenfiddich. Looked at the watch and kept the drink aside.
He took a quick shower. Changed into a comfortable white linen shirt, a brown khaki pants, and a light saffron jacket.

He had to make a right impression. After all he was meeting someone special and that too after a long time...
He picked up a car key from the drawer. It was the key of his favourite black Jonga, which he and his fauji dad painstakingly restored after buying from an army auction.

Jonga was designed by Nissan and was used by Indian military for a long period of time.
Developed on a Nissan’s P60 platform, it was a rugged 4x4 powerhouse driven by six cylinder petrol engine.

He patted Bahubali on the back, kissed him goodbye and drove out of his compound.
His Jonga was racing towards his destination. His thoughts were trying to compete with the speed of his car.

The roads were empty due to the lockdown.

All of a sudden he saw a lady rushing in front of his car. She came out of no where! He slammed the brakes hard...
He almost lost control of his Jonga! It came to a complete halt after few meters with tyres of his car screaming at the loudest possible decibel.

He came out of his trans like situation. There was no one! No lady. Nobody.
He got out of the car. Walked around it to check for any damage.

Everything was perfect. He again looked up. His eyes were transfixed on the horizon. He controlled his heartbeats and placed himself on the driver’s seat again.

He was going to meet someone very very important.
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