Gangs of Whatsapp!

The most difficult commodity on the serpentine roads of Delhi is to find an auto, that too with a set of specific prerequisites, an auto that halts upon being beckoned, an auto that has a functional meter, an auto driver who is willing to oblige with the destination, is uniformed and does not flash gaudy pictures of Bollywood actresses or play the FM radio at earth breaking decibels. If heavens are happy and you really find one, then… Bon Voyage!!!

Yes! That hot Monday morning heavens were happy with HK.  Standing under the seam bursting shed of the DTC bus stop, HK moved ahead a few steps and waved at a CNG auto. There he goes the poor driver…

'Oh! Bhaiya… Sarojini chaloge?' said HK with a hint of a roar in her honey dipped voice.
'Sarojini? Sarojoni Nagar market madam?' went a hapless voice.
Oye! Mr Oversmart!  Do you know of any other Sarojini in Delhi? Chalo. Quick!'. said HK with her foot already on the foot rest. Her small and diminutive built slipped on the matte black seats of the auto.
HK, rested her bag on the seat and adjusted her neck to come in the frame of the rear view mirror of the auto… only to reassure her self-endorsed beauty.

'Oye Hoi! Chal ab… Why you stop?' 
'Madam, woh meter down doing'

HK did not bother acknowledging the pleasant requisition.
HK pulled out her mobile and dialed a number…tring..tring..tring..tring...

'Haan…Sun! I am in the Aots... On way to SN,' blared HK. Her friends were waiting for her at the shopping haven of Sarojini Nagar Market.

 'Arre! Bhaiya. Switch on the FM. Gana Shana Chalao. It so boring without music,' said the lady loudly.

Poor auto wala found the request a little unlike, since girls prefer no music in a rolling auto. Nevertheless he had to abide and there went 'Chikni Kalaein Re…Baby Tere…'

HK was bobbing her head in the back seat, dressed in the attire of...well a circus artist. Bright as bright can be. Glossy as glossy can be. Heels? Phew! As Eiffel can be!! And her branded clothes could put even the celebrities to shame..Paris,Italy,New York on the streets of Delhi …Duh!!

And her name HK…Hira Kalawala. That’s her real name. But of course she does not like it and keeps it short and sweet with HK. Hira Kalawala, a young girl of 19 years, loved to shop, her mantra being... “Shop till you drop…Buy till you die”.

Interestingly, to the world outside she had created a wonder story. A story which emerged from the womb of lies. Stories that conveniently covered the truth about her lower middle class upbringing. The day she was born her grandfather named her Hira…(diamond)  and added Kalawala, because HK’s father had got a Lower Division Clerk job at the coal mines of Buxar. Born in a Janta Flat in East Delhi, HK’s grandfather adored her a lot, since she was the harbinger of a job for her son.  But as HK started to grow and meet friends and people outside, she soon developed a fake identity for herself. HK had told her friends that her father owned diamond mines in Buxar and other parts of India. Over the years they moved from Janta flats to 2BHK and so did her stories.  In the college she dreamt of branded clothes and accessories.  Visit to the plush stores in malls was a far away possibility, so her favourite hang outs were the surplus street shops. Oh ! Hard Kore, Delhi girl…

'Bhaiya?…This is not the way.. Which route are you taking? You think I am new to this place' 

'Madamji, that route is closed for the VIP movement, therefore a detour.'

'Acha..acha..theek hai! Don’t try to act smart with me.'

Soon she was at her haven of shopping and popped out from the auto like a bullet from the gun.

Acha Bhaiya.. Kitna..How much? 
She lost her cool when the autowala displayed the tariff for the ride.

'O! Hello! Kaha se? Do I look like a tourist to you? On what basis are you over charging me Rs. 10? Should I call the traffic police?' 

'Nahi madam..This tariff is fair. No overcharging' 

'Ruk..Let me call the cops'

One stare from HK, and the autowala had rickety legs. He agreed to take Rs. 10 less than the fare, he knew the harrasment by the police could cost more. And of course he so well remembered, HK nudging another girl aside, at the bus stand to pounce into the auto…So he knew it was better to refrain from any fist fights and punches from the girl.

All settled. HK walked with a ‘High Chin … Saichen’ defiance towards the market and called her friends from her sweet heart sticker emblazoned mobile phone.
'Girls, where are you? I am standing outside Khatta Meetha…. Hurry up I have to be back home in time.'

To her friends, HK always flaunted high end fashion clothes and allied things. She portrayed to them that she was a very rich girl and always had access to fashion vogues across the globe. Her father and uncles lived lavish and rich lives across the globe. Because of her uncle in New York, she had been a front line guest at one of the fashion shows in New York. Astounding Enough! But she also presented her compassionate side to her friends and said that in spite of all the wealth; she likes to shop at export surplus markets. This endeavor is to support the numerous families of these laborers; who work in these markets to sustain themselves and their families. Wow! Mind blowing art of cooking stories!

She chose to wait for her friends outside Khatta Meetha, rather than sit in the restaurant, least she would have to pay for her extravagance of eating something there and wobble the stringent shopping budget. The moment she saw her friends approaching, she pretended to be buying something at the shop, quickly after adjusting her fake CK glasses.

'What took you so long guys?'

'Nothing really, we were coming towards you, when we met this very inspiring young boy like you, who is also working for the welfare of these laborers and their families,' said Mils (short for Milli ).

HK felt the first jitter of her lie but swathed it like a veteran.

'Acha..! Good..! Chalo guys..! I need to buy a jumpsuit for this Saturday party. Can we get started?' 

'Nahi, we have planned a surprise for you. Why don’t you meet this guy and work out something together. Synergy ...HK,' added Riha (Short for Rehana)

'That sounds good. But I will meet him next time. Can we get going now please?'

But her friends were adamant.

Eventually HK was forced to meet this vibrant youngster.

HK was lugging herself towards the central park, which was there place for the rendezvous.  She was not willing to be a part of this but at the same time did not want the devil to devour.

As soon as the task force reached to the central park, HK wore a dreadful look. Her jaw dropped when her friends introduced the compassionate soul to her.

'Hey! Hi. Good to see you,' said HK, trying to hide the obvious surprise from her voice. The guy standing next to her was Chintu, her paternal cousin, but she pretended not to know him. He was also her college senior. But they never made their relation public. Chintu disliked her from the very day when HK ridiculed him at a family gathering for his deprived knowledge about pubs, clubs and disco’s in Delhi…

"Very LS Chintu!' she had said.

Well that’s a separate story when Chintu made fun of her clumsy ways of eating Sam’s and GJ’s.

'HK, I came here to accompany you in a humanitarian cause. Let’s go out to the market and hear their woes.'

Everyone in the family addressed HK as Hira. HK was her name for the world. The very mention of HK from Chintu, smelt of an undercurrent.

HK’s paternal uncle, who was also Chintu’s Dad, owned a shop in the by lanes of the export surplus market. HK had never disclosed to her friends in college that Chintu was her paternal cousin. But Chintu along with Mils and Riha had secretly created a group called “Gangs of Whatsapp”. They were aware of the fake life of HK and wanted to bring the truth out. 

HK continued her ignorance and addressed her cousin...

'Yes sure , Mister, let’s get started with your shop first in the second bylane over there.' 

HK was flaring at the turn of events and in her fury was referring to Chintu's shop in the export surplus market.

For Chintu, HK had flagged off the war and gave her a befitting reply...

'Indeed yes Hira Kalawala !! Would you pay up the bill at the shop or settle the account at home!'

HK left the central park huffing and puffing and storming ....