A wordy caricature

It was a fine sunny morning, when me and one of my friend planned to establish a design studio. We went to apply for the registration certificate. Here we met this hilarious personality. Some people struck a chord in your lives and you don't forget them for life. This person didn't struck any chord but did cut our pockets full of enthusiasm and money. To start with such an experience, on an auspicious occasion, made us like a 50 year old, half-bald with a huge belly and ass, saying, 'bhai humne duniya dekhi hai' with a dirty look and fake pride. This experience was as hideous as the character I am about to explain.

Age, mid 30s; sex, male; Complexion, dark. This sounds more like a 'someone missing' advertisement. I used to see these on Doordarshan every Saturday in the evening, while awaiting for the Marathi cinema at 4.00 pm. So, to proceed, his profession: he's an agent for helping to get the shop act license for starting a business without much pain in the ass. He's highly responsible for the development of our country, by helping people start their businesses without much hassle.

He runs it as his family business. I encountered it when I saw his mother handling all the cash, sitting under a luxurious umbrella on the footpath outside the license office. He is also pretty professional in his job profile, to explain: he had an ochre suitcase with papers of all his clients neatly piled up, supposedly, alphabetically.

Describing his looks, clothing and lifestyle, he was a dirty money eating caterpillar, striving on the cash of innocent leaves like us. He was half bald and on his upper head, there were some hair approximately 2 cm distant from each other. The sides of his head were abundant with hair. Half of his hectic work life went outside the registration office, in the sun, and a part of it under the table of the officers inside the registration office. Due to this and the other personal tensions, his upper head was scarcely haired. In those remaining hair, the soaring heat created tiny droplets of sweat, forming a glossy texture.

He was a proud customer of 'Manikchand gutkha'. His teeth had a complete red colour, not even pink(the mixture of white, his teeth and the red of 'gutkha') carrying the brand identity and unique style of the 'gutkha' product. His office surroundings were all drenched in those lively red squashes, which poured from his mouth like a fully flowing tap.

He was a silent and patient person and would not speak unless needed. But, as he used to open his mouth to ask for more documents, his glittery red teeth and the lovely smell of 'gutkha' used to make our eyes red. Thanks for those who invented handkerchiefs, or else we wouldn't have survived chatting with him.

His voice was comparable to the double lowest note of C, on a keyboard(piano), if existed. We could feel the vibrations of the sound his vocal cords made. It would have been a science lesson to study how sound vibrations work, if we were science students. Hearing his tone, I always felt itchy in my throat. I felt like pouring a litre of the liquid 'Vicks' forcefully in his mouth and end the dryness of his voice for ever.

His posture and dressing style was pretty formal. Clothes used to be neat and ironed. In those 5-6 time we met him during our work, he wore the same pant and maybe 2-3 different shirts. He was always wet with sweat. If his sweat was stored and desalinated, it would at-least quench the thirst of an entire lane.

He had a mobile phone, which, I suppose, had a facility to answer only if a person is trying for the third time. Whenever I called him for asking the progress of our work, he had a long pause before answering, as if he's giving a speech like our Respectable Former Prime Minister Vajpayeeji. If I repeated the question, he would go impatient and blurb out the answer, like squashing the red 'gutkha' out of his mouth.

One of his legs had a ligament problem, I suppose, as he didn't walk normally. That might be a result of slipping off the red pond of saliva surrounding his office space.

His mother was 10 times fat than him. I suspect, she ate food and he ate 'manikchand gutkha'. 2 packets for breakfast, 4 for lunch and 3 for dinner, with a glass of water.

This, Mr. Agent is unforgettable in my memories because of his slummy character, poor attitude, corrupt mind, and greedy approach. But is he the one responsible for it? Or is it the situation he faced and saw his entire life made him like this? That's a hard question to answer!