Lost

I was watching one of Frat pack's first movies 'Old school' till 4.00 am in the morning. One of my old school mates called me in the morning at about 8.00 am, of course much to my annoyance.

I was sitting up right in a few seconds, because one of our friends was missing since he left his room drunk and at 3.45am in the morning. I was worried because his girl friend had ditched him recently and he was using my 2 month old bike.

I skipped my bath but not my breakfast to reach the place where these people actually stayed, a single room in one of the most cramped places in the city. You wouldn’t know if it was day or night if you shut the light out inside the 3m X 3m room.

When I reached the place, I noticed that my bike was missing. I and my friend weren’t even sure of where and what to start and we strolled around the mile long beach. Excited tourists, resting locals, noisy children, lovers in various states of ewww, stray dogs, leashed dogs, a leashed monkey they were all there but not my friend, neither my bike.

After scaling the beach road thrice we decided to walk in to a police station to ask for suggestions. The armed old man who stood at the gates wasn’t even sure if we should report to the law and order division or the crime division. A ‘I never smiled in my life’ guy at the crime division almost shouted us to the Law and order division.

A police man, who did not know what a BPO was wanted us to enquire at 2 more stations around the beach line and three general hospitals in the area. He also showed us one guy who had been picked up from the roadside in the morning, thankfully not our friend.

The next station at the northern end of the beach had little to offer, but the police man at the gates wanted to know what we did for living, how much we earned, where we stayed and so much else for I don’t know what. He was visibly jealous at the salary part of the questionnaire, just like I am when I learn one of my classmate's.

The police station at the southern end had bad news, a 35 year old man had been found dead in the morning near the beach. While one policeman blatantly went ahead with the details sending my friend berserk, the other one was trying to shut him up asking him to go slow on it.

I was left to handle the conversation as my friend was totally upset. They did not know the difference between a T-shirt and a shirt; neither did the report filed have any details about the dress found on the body. My friend did not look 35, he wasn’t wearing black pants, he was not fair, but my heart beats were faster.

At the first hospital the parking lot attendant was keen on his 3 rupees and seemed oblivious of our urgency. A bastard at the mortuary was keen on his 20 rupees before we had a look at the mysterious 35 yr old man. We left the hospital in a state of some unexplainable, uncomfortable relief.

After 5 hours we had our food, and our first glass of water.

The second and third hospitals had had 6 deaths and 4 accident cases from the morning and all of them had been identified. For the people at the hospitals they said it like they were talking of just numbers on the inventory, like bottles, syringes or cots.

The time inside the 'trauma and accident ward' was a real trauma, bleeding men, children bandaged all over, blood splattered on most beds, running doctors, indifferent assistants, I almost had bile up my throat but it was over soon.

We finally filed a formal report at the police station where we had started.

I reached home after 9 hours of a very different Sunday and just after a few minutes my lost friend walked in to my house, still sleepy eyed. He had slept at one of our other friends, some one who we did not try to contact for no reason.

I did not know if I was supposed to shout at him or to be angry at myself. I did neither, but at least I did not forget to get the keys of my bike back.