Sunday, August 26, 2012

"Chest"


I met this guy on my second day in Mumbai. Such a beautiful boy he is. An extremely good-looking North Indian boy. I stress on North Indian because you knew it as soon as you laid eyes on him.. Punjabi boy, joint family, chest out when he walks, fairer than milk, redundant tattoo.. the works! Let's call him chest.

I took chest to a bar. Chest told me of his family. The mother who loves chest, the father who is seemingly very strict, the overprotective brother, the grandfather whose death crushed chest. The doting grandfather whom chest still can't imagine life without. The only one in the family who ever expected good things out of chest. The man who wanted his lovely grandson to become the next Sachin Tendulkar. Chest obliged. Went for practice. Chest started off as wanting to prove the world wrong and keep chest's grandfather's word. Chest needed everyone to know that he was capable of much much more.
Chest told me all that over one drink too many.

So after a week of 'rigorous' practice, chest quit.
Chest told his grandfather that chest can't because chest doesn't want to get tanned.
Chest's grandfather died a month later.

I choked on my drink too.
We made out later that night.
We don't talk anymore for obscure reasons.
I think chest killed his grandfather.