Hopes Of A Clear Sky In Monsoon

Chapter-11

By the time she was seated in the bus that would take her to a city far, far away from home, both literally and metaphorically, the drizzle had turned into a veritable storm.

Both Radhika and her cousin thought that it would be best if she took up a job in a city, rather than any suburb, as it would be difficult for anyone to find her out if she hid in the bustle of a large city.

A little background about her cousin.

His name was Narayan, but hardly anyone in the village called him so. Despite his magnificent name, he had quite less than magnificent beginnings. His mother had died when he was ten. His father had remarried.

Radhika could never fathom why he had done so. As a kid she would often wonder, why her Radhe kaka (she was named after him) was so sad and depressed all the time. Radhika had often heard others say that he used to be the life of village festivities and celebrations, but she had always seen the contrary.

When Narayan bhaiya was fifteen, his father committed suicide. The hole in his heart left by his dead wife was too large to be filled by anyone else, especially the wife that society had forced on him.

Bhaiya was devastated. That, combined with the mental and emotional abuse he had already suffered at the hands of his stepmother and indifferent father, led him to run away from home. He joined one of the most notorious gangs in the region. Five years of his life, he spent in that gang. Five precious years.

 She would never know what had happened, or how he escaped, or why he had thought of returning home, but, one Sunday morning, she found him at their door, debating whether to come in or not.

She had felt so happy to see him after giving up hope of ever seeing him again, that she had practically dragged him inside, ignoring his feeble protests. She was twelve at the time.

It had taken him two years to rebuild his life. He opened a shop selling second- hand things.

She had often urged him to open a business which made better profit, but he always replied with a smile, “Everything deserves second chances in life, princess”.

Everything aside, he was one of the most resourceful and empathetic people in the village. If anyone faced a problem they could not solve, Bhaiya was the one the all went to.

And he solved their problems the best he could, without charging anything, other than a smile, or sometimes a friendly conversation.

This was why, anywhere one went; one would find Bhaiya’s friends. Whether they had once been helped by him, or had encountered him on any walk of their life, they were always eager to help.

It was to one of these friends that Radhika was going to seek employment. She had been told that he owned a bar cum restaurant. She had to start waitressing by next day.

Not the most ideal of places to work, and definitely not her dream job, yes, but at least she had been told that she would be provided with lodging. And the salary was quite decent too, compared to the job she was doing.

She ran her fingers on the card on which the bar’s name and address was embossed, wondering what kind of place it was.

Bhaiya had told her that the owner was a pretty decent guy. He was one of the few who had left the gang with him, and although it had taken him around five years, he had opened a bar cum restaurant with the help of money he’d earned doing odd jobs and some loaned by Bhaiya.

It was quite a run-down place making losses that the previous owner was happy to sell at a low price just to get it off his hands when Bhaiya’s friend had bought it.

Within three years, he had transformed it into a profit-making enterprise.

A man who can do that within three years definitely has brains, Bhaiya had said.

" Beware of his temper, though." Even when he was in the gang, everyone was scared of it.

Radhika just hoped that she didn’t get into trouble or rub him the wrong way.

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It had been two days since she’d started working at the Sapphire Bar and Restaurant. As the name suggested, the interior was a beautiful blue.

There was a stage on one side of the building (it was the first thing she’d noticed) where a guitar and a piano were placed. She was told that anyone who wanted to (and knew how to) sing could take the stage. Sometimes,the owner liked to perform. Every Friday, the restaurant hosted an open mic. It cheered her up immensely.

And cheering up, she did need. She was feeling quite out of her depth here.

First came the hustle and bustle of a city. The city had traffic lights, which actually worked!

People were so immensely busy here. It took her quite a long time to navigate the streets without any help. How different from the warm and helpful people of her village!

Secondly, her uniform consisted of a form-fitting shirt and skinny jeans. For a girl who had been in sarees and salwar-kameezes her entire life it was quite uncomfortable, to say the least. It felt too exposing and foreign. She somehow hid her discomfort, and kept repeating to herself that she’d get used to it. I can and I will, she said to herself.

Gritting her teeth, she set about helping the other waitresses with setting up tables and taking orders.

She was told that she’d be staying at one of the waitresses’ house for a few days. The owner had gone to his hometown and would be back after a few days, when he would take her to her permanent living quarters.

Taking orders was another difficulty. She could not for the life of her remember the sequence in which she had to take orders. Besides, there often were long lists of reservations beforehand with special requests which she had to take care of.

Yes, it definitely would take her some time to get used to.