But She Didn't Come: Prologue

‘Hey Mr. Stay away from me,’ yelled Rashi at a stranger. ‘I'm an independent girl and I know what men think all the time, what’s in their mind, so can you just stay away with your sorry face?’ she cursed, pushed stranger with the entire force.

If someone asks us where we should go to relish our life, we may suggest Goa, the land of utmost freedom, and Bangkok, the cherry of Thailand, but man, Goa has some high-spirited feel to get rolled into the vibes of the sea and to absorb it as an eternal party destination. We know people recognize Goa for pubs, bikini girls, and the perpetual exultation of beaches. You can reach Goa and you would never come back with a tedious mind. Rashi, who enjoys every sip of any drink in her everyday life, was in one of the open bars just in a queue of Candolim beach in Goa. When people choose to sleep at their home, the honest-to-goodness parties start in the pubs and bars of Goa.

You may see people dancing, holding beer cans, looking divergent, and crossing every limit to find the amusement of life. Humans are bizarre, they can dance everywhere, open, or close sky, and nothing matters to them until they get what they want. Shack parties on empty beaches, bars flooded with couples, and some strange lured people looking for life, explore sea at every best place, and the shore of the sea. Goa is an exceptional & glamorous tourist place to explore love, life, beaches, and monotonous shots of vodka, wine, cocktails, or maybe juices for some authoritarian people but Rashi had no stage play with Goa. She had no engrossment to go near men and ask for what they have to offer. Men these men, make friends, forget, and make friends again. She had been living in North Goa since birth. Living near to those exotic beaches, she had no interest to gaze incessant sea, the kissing couples, and palm trees. As compare to teen life, she was always one step ahead but shattering her adult life with over maturity and protectiveness or maybe she was flawlessly mature.

Rashi was stiffly drunk like she had consumed an end number of wine glasses and somewhat unconscious to make her hand steady. Apart from mid-age wine, she loved vodka but that was such an expensive deal for her and to swallow an end number of bottles like an authentic drunker. She wanted a lot of bottles and that should be inexpensive. To be a real glass sucker, she came to the open pubs every day and spent backbreaking money on her meritless addiction. We think she had crossed the border of addiction.

‘Take the money and come with me little girl,’ ordered the stranger with a contrived flying kiss. ‘Hey girl, don't say you are wandering here at one midnight, hand-picking flowers for your punk boyfriend.’ The man ticked his tongue, as he meant it soberly.

‘You piece of crap, she astonished sarcastically. ‘Really’ she beamed after. ‘What do you think of yourself? My parents to order me to stay at home?’

‘You whore, I have money and you want it severely. Girls want it. What do you think about me, lady? A businessman? Oh, come one, tell me!’

‘Ha.ha.ha. do you think, you are capable to depict my character?’ she grinned. I think you need a psychologist and then a mental hospital. From the last few minutes, something just rolled in my tongue, I think your face is the deserving one to spit on, she cackled ingeniously, brush aside, and gulped one little wine shot in one go.

Goa has bars and pubs like we have Golgappa vendors on the street & it tempts people like a whirling stark-naked girl. To resist it, someone needs a substantial deal of control and courage. Even anyone can effortlessly get his hands-on wine before water. The sun has beaches where we can roll over, play with sand to become an artist, and experience sleep with beers in our snug fists. Except for coconut water and beer, all things are high-priced to drill anyone’s pocket at once.

‘You are a slut and whore,’ howled stranger. ‘You are a slut and whore, remember that.’

‘Really?’ she said, eyeballs bulged, and instantaneously kicked in his pair of balls. ‘You better find some other girl who can fit in your money box. You may be better with words but I'm better with my brawny legs.’

She was seated in an open bar, having end numbers of wine bottles parallel to her. People stared at those bottles every day because some of them were exorbitant and she could not afford to have a square cap of it because she was just a freelancer with less curiosity. She had the work to assist people with any kind of problems. She was ingenious and quick-witted. Like if she works for some, she would become rich in a short stretch but the alcoholic mind-frame made her a little dizzy with her mind. Stupid people say a lot about her character because she was an alcoholic with no curiosity to do anything great in her life.

The street lights were dingy and flickering to depict the unusual late night. Nothing was twinkling in the sky. The loss of speech was telling her to move but someone just messed with her soul and offered money to thought her as a prostitute or some escort. Whatever! Even if she was a prostitute, she had the right to say no anytime. That strange man was looking muscular but his character was feeble in front of a lady to share the bed with him for a few hours.

‘You both go somewhere else,’ ordered the bar owner. ‘It's time to shut and I’m not in the mood to invite any trouble. The Goa still has certain rules.’ ‘And hey Mr, he said,’ pointed finger at the stranger, ‘stop troubling the girl.’

‘You just shut your smallmouth,’ said stranger, smiling deftly. ‘Big guy, small mouth. blah blah...blah....’

The bar owner roared while folding the sleeves, ‘You want to get punched from the big guy, huh!’ The owner had a body like Popeye. In one punch, that stranger could vanish forever. In Goa, if you want to survive, you should know how to avoid problems and if get in anyone, then learn to tackle them. Many people are there to find opportunities to fight or maybe they just create the opportunities.

‘I will come back to drag you out of this bar,’ warned stranger, walking toward the sumptuous black Mercedes.

‘Why are you going Mr?’ The owner laughed sarcastically. ‘Fight like men, just face to face, men to men, come dude.’

Rashi was laughing carelessly as she was almost negligent and incapable to drink any of the other glasses. When people start to talk truth after a shot, she had the habit to remain silent. Of course, we need people to talk to but she had no one. In a moment, the stranger ignited Mercedes with the facial expressions of royal personality, mixed up with haughtiness and disrespect, and in a second, he got vanished into the thin dark air.

The bar owner slid a slip under her wine glass, ‘Rashi, here's your bill, 750 bucks, pay and you go home and I go mine. Simple as that.’

He gestured to shut, indicating her to leave but she was like a classic book, momentary and eternal.

‘You know Mathew he was treating me like a whore,’ said Rashi with no expressions. She took a sip, looking into his eyes, without a moment of blink. The bill under her glass got freedom before it gets paid and took a long way to lost before making an effort.

‘Rashi, you are intelligent and a sensible girl,’ Mathew got the vibe. ‘Why you don’t leave the wine. Don’t waste your life like it doesn’t exist. Life is good, just look around yourself. Please get married and have kids.’

‘Oh, come on, I have already talked about it, explained Rashi, fatigued with the void face. Look around, Mathew; a few minutes back, I just looked around to find a filthy man, who was seeing me as whore, who wanted the piece of my flesh.’ she took a sip and wiped her mouth.

‘Stop drinking Rashi’

‘You are the only bartender who ceases people to drink wine. Are you really mad to kick out customers from your bar? You aren’t yourself Mathew, accumulate your character.’

‘It's my business Rashi and in business, customer protection is business responsibility.’

‘Oh, come on, Mathew, customer satisfaction comes first. And I'm your satisfied customer. Now can you give me one more shot?’ her voice had lost control but her body was demanding more shots.

‘It's time to close. Go to your home. Right now.’

‘Do you want to marry me?’ asked Rashi, lost, staring at the empty road.

‘Rashi go to your home and please pay the bill.’

Rashi inserted her right hand in the pocket of her black jeans and found some badly wrinkled notes of low denomination. She threw every note on the table except a fifty rupee note.

‘Count it and I will give you rest tomorrow or maybe some other day.’

‘Tomorrow the pub will be closed,’ he declared.

‘And why is it so?’

‘Because I'm going to meet a girl for my marriage.’

‘Oh.oh.oh, congratulations Mathew. Any girl can fall for you.’

‘Thanks. Everyone says the same.’ he was accumulating and placing all the glass and stuff rapidly to close the bar.

‘Go to your home now,’ he ordered. ‘And have some sleep.’

‘You know who is waiting for me at home? No one.’

He got silent. ‘But you still have to go.’

People are born alone and die alone but life is hard when we live alone and someone is responsible for it.

‘Rashi Go!’ he got frustrated and grabbed the shutter to bring it down.

‘Okay okay, I'm going.’ she gestured to leave and get up with a heavy heart. People go to Goa to explore the bikini girls who wander at night with hot boyfriends and have the pleasure to fun with them. You can listen to the echoed acceleration of bikes coming towards you but no one bothers to stay plain because we all have the same choice and tendency to stay wild in the city.

He closed the shutter and was ready to go but also, he was staring at Rashi who wasn't ready to go.

‘Stop staring Mathew!’ she grinned from ear to ear. ‘Do you have a cigarette?’

‘Yes, I have,’ he took a deep sigh. He patted his hand on his pockets oddly and found a sealed packet. He unrolled the seal and offered it to her after taking one.

She grabbed the whole packet.

‘Hey you asked for only one,’ he growled.

‘Yeah, I asked for one packet,’ she chuckled.

‘Okay okay! Who can win with you? No one.’ He indicated to move, took a few steps, and got vanished with the hasty wind.

Rashi had a packet full of cigarettes and a heart full of affliction. She could feel the pain of the sky that was casing her heart. Her hair was hovering with the grime of the wind and she was closing eyes to steer clear of the truth of life.

‘Who can win with me?’ she smiled with profound tears, unhurried with the pain. Wiping tears wasn’t her purpose, she ignored and chose to take out a cigarette and possessed it inky red lips. She ignited it like a pro and wiped tears like an amateur.

‘Who can win with me?’ She laughed with unendurable pain and crawled like a freelancer. She had no one who was waiting for her to hug and ask how her day was. Are you contented with your life?