An excerpt from the short story, ‘Love versus Logic’
Not in my wildest imagination was I prepared for what would happen next. I never knew that I was all set to meet Vodka.
As I was sitting on the bench, I saw a man in his late thirties with Vodka. The man looked restless and seemed to be in a hurry. He was dressed shabbily with dishevelled hair and an unkempt beard. Looking at his matted hair and his scruffy and faded attire, it was clear to me that he was struggling with himself, perhaps economically as well. He looked fragile and did not seem to have had a decent meal or a bath in days.
Human curiosity never dies, and being human, I found the man interesting. In today’s world of clean dressing, it was unusual to find a person like him hovering around a park in a posh locality. He clearly did not belong to that place. I wanted to analyse him further, and kept observing the man.
There was not another soul around except for him and me in that park. To my surprise, I saw him picking up Vodka in his arms and walking towards me. As he approached closer, I could see him staring straight at me. I could now see his eyes, they were red, the dark circles under his eyes were prominent and I could feel his eyes boring into me. He did not take off his eyes as he came nearer.
I could sense that he wanted to communicate with me. Probably he was looking for help, I guessed.
He must be a ragpicker, a drug addict or a beggar. But then, what was he doing with Vodka? Had he stolen her from someone? I wondered.
I felt scared. I did not like the fact that he was actually so close to me. I stood up; I thought of running away from the park, but I could not. Something held me back. The fact that Vodka was in the possession of such a bedraggled man bothered me and aroused my curiosity. I felt bad for Vodka. Though I never believed in destiny, I sincerely believed that it was her bad luck that she was with such a hideous man.
The man moved further towards the bench, and I was certain that he was walking towards me. I forced myself to get up from the bench and turned away. I stood up abruptly and had barely walked a few steps when I heard a deep, heavy voice from behind, “Hey boy, stop.”
His voice was rich and ringing. On a deserted summer afternoon in that lonely park, the voice sounded intimidating.
I was frightened, but I did not dare look at him. Without turning back, I started walking towards the exit gate.
“Hey, I am talking to you. Can’t you hear me? I said stop!”
I could feel that the voice was closer than the earlier call. I then knew that he was walking faster than I was. I realized I needed to run if I wanted to avoid him.
I broke into a run.
“Stop! I said, I need to speak to you,” he shouted.
I did not stop. I ran even faster. I could feel the hair on my nape rise. “Stop, else the pug will die,” I heard him plead; I froze in my tracks. I turned back, stood still. The man came closer to me.
I stood there silently, waiting for him to speak.
He then said softly, “I am a good man. Do not worry.” And then in a brotherly caring voice, he asked, “What’s your name, young man?” I told him.
“Listen boy, I am in serious trouble. I need your help.”
“You need my help?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes.”
“How can I be of any help to you? I don’t even know you.”
“I am broke; I am dying,” he said resignedly.
“I have no money with me. I am a student,” I thumped, getting back my confidence, and then I said sharply,“I have never seen a beggar with a dog in my life.”
“You are right, young man, I am not a beggar. But I am a chronic gambler. I have another good quality. I am a drunkard. I hail from a rich family. My father owned a large portion of land in North Kolkata, he had several houses.”
I revolted, “But why are you sharing your stories with me? I need to go. I have to study for my exams...”
“Wait, boy. I am dying and hence, need someone to know my story.” Then, in a commanding tone, he said, “Sit down.” He sat on the bench and patted the place next to him, indicating that I should follow suit.
I did as he said and glanced at the dog, she smiled at me. I ran my fingers around her neck, she indeed felt so soft. She was wrinkly, had a small face, a curled-up tail. Her complexion was fawn. She had a compact body with well-developed muscles. Her eyes were bright and expressive.
The man smiled, and continued with his story, “I am a chartered accountant by profession. I scored an all-India rank in the final examination. The institute honoured me with a medal for securing highest marks in accountancy that year. I joined a multinational company as a management trainee. And it was a good start of what could have been a great career.
“But I believed in quick money. And I started gambling. My father was a known lawyer and till he was alive, I could gamble my salary away. Somedays I would lose money but most days I would win and that gave me confidence. People told me that I had a flair for gambling. Once my father died, being his only son, I inherited all his property.. And then I started gambling big money. Over time, I lost all my money and all the property.”
The man paused, took out a bottle from his pocket and took a big sip. The whole place reeked with the smell of alcohol. I hated the smell and wanted to run away, but could not as I looked at Vodka again. Her eyes were so expressive, as if she wanted to talk to me, come closer to me.
So I sat and listened as he continued.
“Today, I am homeless; my family and relatives have disowned me. I live on the street. The only possession I have is this little pug.”
He then hugged Vodka and said, “She also has no one in this world except me. I love her. But now I have run into such a financial mess that I am unable to feed her. We have not eaten for the last two days. I have no money left.” He paused for a while and said, “I know you are a student, I am not asking for money from you, I want you to look after my Vodka, that’s all. She deserves a better life.”
“But, I can’t keep the dog. Besides, my mother hates dogs,” I blurted out.
“I beg of you. You need to save her. I can’t see her die. Please help her.”
The man almost begged. I could clearly see his soft side behind his ugly façade; he was no longer rude to me or intimidating.
Find out what happens to Vodka here...
Partha Sarathi Basu has worked in leadership positions at Coca-Cola, Whirlpool, IFB group, Tata group, Spicejet and AkzoNobel . He is currently associated with a leading consulting firm apart from being a leadership coach. He is the author of five books — Lifescapes…the long and short of it, Mid-Career Crisis, Make It or Break It, With or Without You and Why Not…! Racing Ahead With Mentors. His books are based on his corporate and life experiences. He now lives in Amsterdam.
