Episode_1

Ever seen the guy who drives like a maniac in a ridiculously big car? The guy with the powerful dad?The big house? Well, I am that guy.

Benoy Roy.

I am not flashy, but I have a big car and a big house, and there is no hiding that. But yes, I do not look rich. I stand five feet and ten inches tall and look like someone you would miss on a busy road. Wheatish complexion, slim, with short, neat hair—that is what my matrimonial ad would read like .Often, I have heard people say, He does not look that rich. I do not blame them; I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.

Well, it was another morning for me. I was in no hurry again. Life was awesome. I did not have to worry about the early morning lecture, shouting professors or pending assignments.

My head did not hurt even though I was sure I had got sloshed the night before, since I was on the couch and not on my bed where I should have been! I was still in the clothes I had worn the previous night to the club.

I must have passed out, I thought.

These nights of excessive drinking, blackouts and bad hangovers were becoming a routine. This is the last time I am drinking, I said to myself. I was lying. I tried to remember why I had not gone up to my bedroom and slept, but I really could not. I tried to recall the girl I had danced with the previous night, but I could not remember that clearly either. I remembered the name though. Palak. I smiled. She was pretty, and Deb had introduced me to her. As I heated the coffee and poured it into a cup, my phone rang. It was Eshaan and he asked me the same question that he did every day. Was I going to college that day? No, I was not! I didn’t have a hangover but I did not want to spoil that day sitting on those broken benches, beneath the creaky fans. Moreover, three back-to-back lectures were not my thing! Just as I switched on the television, the door was flung wide open. It was the maid. I looked at her, and she smiled. She had the newspaper in her hand; she kept it on the table. Though the house was pretty big, I lived alone and so never had much work for her to do.

‘Benoy? What is in the sink?’she asked, disgusted.

‘What?’ I asked as I entered the kitchen.

‘Come and see for yourself.’ She had covered her face with her pallu.

I walked up to the sink and a pungent smell hit my nose. I looked at it and it almost made me puke. It was filthy and it smelled worse than a dead rat.

‘Damn it.’

‘Babu, you drank too much last night?’she said in a muffled tone from behind the pallu.

‘I guess so.’

I asked her to go and shop for vegetables; I told her I would take care of it by the time she came back. She grabbed the shopping bag and left the house as soon as possible. I stood there for a while, disgusted at what I had done. This was new. I used to black out, but I never used to puke. The drainpipe was blocked and I thought, Why don’t they just make bigger drainpipes?

Because people are meant to puke in toilets, dumbass, a voice in my head said .

I did not waste any more time. I wrapped a handkerchief around my face and got to work with a plunger and that day’s newspaper in my hand. Fifteen stinking minutes later, the sink sparkled and I stank.

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...End of episode-1...

...part - 1...

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