The protagonist of this story, Kabir Verma, was born on 31 Dec 1982. Not that the date would make much of a difference other than making him the second child. God seemed to have kept him in a queue ,Queue which was going to be an integral part of his life even before he saw the world. His father remained in the middle of a queue to fill the hospital form to admit his mother for his delivery. Being in the middle of the queue is the biggest dilemma to be in because neither your heart will allow you to leave the queue because you are ahead of those standing behind you nor it will be enough to convince your impatient brain that you will get a chance soon because there is a crowd equal in number ahead of you. The people behind you push you and the people ahead of you blame you for the fault you haven’t done. After four years, Kabir experienced the arrival of his younger brother.
Kabir was born in a country where Queue and Sun share a lot of commonality. He faced them at every step of his life, queue at water pump, the medical shop, ration shop and education shops too. It is at one of such places in college that he met Madhavi. First time, queue did a pleasant thing to him by acting as a meeting point.
He was waiting outside to hear his name in a sky blue full sleeve shirt and a black trouser with matching tie. This had been his dress-code for last ten days but to him it appeared a decade as queues had changed the unit of time. Four names had already been called. Disappointment made him contemplate "Was the decision to land on earth really his or he was thrown because there were no vacancies in heaven". He felt like cursing God. God heard him while he heard his name.
When he returned, both God and he could feel the sense of security. Further planning for future could now be suspended for a little while. Next on the list was family.
He reached home. Vacations used to be the defacto travel time for the Vermas. Unfortunately, he had to miss the trip for fortune. It was time for evening snacks. He got hold of some biscuits and started munching but they seem reluctant to slide on his palate without a tea. Though he had many a times seen the tea being prepared, he himself had never prepared it for the fear of rejection of his cooking skills. When alone, you can't reject yourself and still remain alive. He accepted the challenge with guaranteed victory.
With the last sip, he decided to buy himself another chance to make another first attempt, this time with no guarantee of any kind. He opened the windows and took a position on the chair. Three pens were lying on the table, all suitable to write a letter. Without a second thought on failure, he wrote -
Got placed in the first week but my dream company is yours.
Distinctive individual qualities may be a fiction of mind but I am ready to trust my senses more than science. If they are made to get fooled, let them be. Why interfere in nature's work? Who in the world would not pray to God for a copy of yours? What I pray for is the original one!
I am at your altar. Will you become part of the small dash between the two dates?