The Kabir Singh Story

Official Meeting-Kabir

Slamming the door shut he walked into his flat finishing a day of work on a routine monday evening. He had had a surgery and two consultations and surprising no one, he had managed to blow up at all three. He knew the other surgeons in his department liked to talk about him behind his back , calling him a disaster waiting to happen. 

He'd heard the female nurses and administrators talking about him as he walked by too, saying his "brooding demeanour"  added to the sex appeal. But other people's opinions didn't bother him. They could think him a trainwreck and he'd be happy to punch them in the face to show them how right they were. 

Funny how a year could change a person. What one possessed then was now lost. What one cherished then was now someone elses to cherish. Tossing his work bag to the side, he made his way over to the couch, grabbing two beers from the mini-fridge on the way. Without hesitating he downed the first one, enjoying the cool sensation of liquid going down my throat and anticipating the feeling of numbness that would follow, after three more.

Today wasn't even a particularly bad day. But this was life now that she was gone.

Preeti Mehta.

His Pree

The love of his life, the girl of his dreams. 

Being awake was as torturing as going to sleep. She didn't just haunt my dreams, he was reminded of her in everything around him. In fact the only reason why he stayed in this apartment was so he could always be with her. It was a weird kind of torture, having no choice but to think of her always, but it was this torture that got him through each day.

He lay on the couch watching the Mumbai skies begin to darken and let himself wonder what she was doing right now. Had she also come back home from a busy shift from the hospital? Maybe she had come home and was cooking dinner for her husband? Or maybe her and the husband had gone out for dinner date and were planning on coming home early for an intimate evening? Just thinking of the idea of her with another man made his blood boil but thinking of her with a man who was her husband sent him into a rage. Downing the rest of the second beer he casually tossed the bottle away, not caring whether it broke or not. 

Distraction.

That's what he needed. A distraction.

Usually when his thoughts were overwhelmed by Preeti, he either drank himself to oblivion or found physical release with anyone he could find. But just the thought of calling one of the girls he had last been with seemed like too much work.

He reached for a half used blunt on the coffee table and lit it with one of the many lighters beside it. Tonight would be a relatively chill night; me, my porn, and my weed. As long as he made it to the morning he'd be fine.  

And then just as he was settling into the comfortable routine,  all hell broke loose. The sounds from the computer where muffled by a loud shrieking sound outside and the delusional howlings of an old man. 

His methodically induced melancholic trance broken by the sound of glass being shattered outside and the delusional howlings of an old man.

"HARASSMENT! I WILL REPORT YOU FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT! I KNOW THE COMMISSIONER; HE WILL HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT!" 

Mr.Rajan. The mans nurses took pains to make sure he never left his flat and though he didn't know what it was he was suffering from, he did know that in the past two days alone there was more noise outside than there had been all year.

At the sound of another high pitched scream, he felt his blood begin to boil. Someone had to teach that old man to shut up, and apparently no one else was going to do it. 

Picking up a half a broken bottle of beer he made his way to the front door and opened it with such  force that door knob may have loosened a little. 

"AY! SHUT UP!" he growled into the hallway before he was even able to credit the craziness in front of me. 

Standing in the small hallway that separated his flat from the opposite flat of 3C was the elderly Mr.Rajan, paint all over the back of his clothing attempting to ward off his assailant with one of the multiple paint brushes in his hands. His challenger standing in front of him was in gym shorts and a large t-shirt and she stood in a fighting position trying to block the stairwell, beside 3C, that led downstairs with her body. Her face was pulled in a fierce grimace, unruly black hair piled on top of her head,but beyond all that what stood out were the most nutty wild eyes. 

The mystery girl, acknowledged my outburst with a glance over Mr. Rajans shoulder but immediately returned her attention to the man between us. Mr. Rajan was still in his own world and let out another scream. A flash of worry flitted across her face, but was replaced just as quick as it came with cool confidence.

Still in her fighting position she started to speaking to the old man "False claims won't hold up in any court Daada"

She smirked realizing the old man didn't have a response. But when Kabir looked at him it seemed like he was ready to start screaming again in retaliation. 

"AYYY" he screamed slapping his hand against the door fed up with the nonsense.

"Whatever it is this, deal with inside or I'll file a disturbance complaint"

The old man turned around finally acknowledging the other presence in the hallway.

"Who is this man! An invader, I think he is working with the Portuguese. We must detain him immediately"  Mr. Rajan said with fervour. 

He began to stealthy approach Kabir with his paint brushes outstretched and instinctively Kabir squared up ready to knock some sense into the old man. 

The girls eyes widened and she grabbed her grandfather's arm. 

"Daada! let's go back... back to our station where we can inform our superiors of the enemy presence".

Mr. Rajan stopped and considered this for a moment and slowly lowered his arms. Kabir still stayed squared ready to punch whoever came at him but it proved unnecessary as Mr. Rajan began to comply with his granddaughters gentle prodding.

" Yes we must go tell the general that the Portuguese have made it to our shores! India will be safe in our hands Pri!" 

He felt the blood rush from his face.

Pree.

The old man had called her Pree. 

He lived here because he didn't want to escape the memories of her but this was beyond necessary. As if he needed another one near him or be involved with the crazy that unfolded outside.

He made his way back inside, slamming the door as hard as he could and ignored the talking outside. Grabbing his blunt he resumed his position on the couch. 

Distractions. That's what he needed.