Sunday, 28 June 2015

TECHNICAL PROSTITUTE


Rahul sat in his office chair contemplating his computer screen. It had happened with him so many times before, whenever an error in his code refused to abate. The code seemed to be abysmal at times. He knew he would have resolved the issue on Monday but he restrained himself to finish it on Saturday.

He got a ping on whatsapp from one of his friends. It was Shikha, his friend from the HR department. The company was on a hiring spree. He remembered the topic given to the new candidates the day before.

“I hope you are enjoying your Saturday,” Shikha texted.

“Yeah I’m trying to,” Rahul said contradicting what he had said. Inside his heart he was not liking what he was doing. Though he would be getting extra monetary compensation for working one extra day but sometimes he thought, if it was worth it.

Shikha had narrated him the gist of the group discussion. The topic that was a sensitive one, “Mental prostitution vs Physical”, with half a dozen candidates pouring in their views into the discussion.

Some were in favour while some weren’t. It had to be that way in a discussion. Shikha was a good friend. She never worked on Saturdays. Only there were some rare occasions when she had to come to the office. She never pushed herself into such a situation where she would be getting extra money, in exchange for one of her weekends.

“Why are you silent? Are you busy?” Shikha asked him.

“Kind of. Don’t know. I’ll text you later,” he said and placed the phone aside.

It was like any normal Saturday for him. But, something bothered him from the day before. He had friends. They called him as usual only to get disappointed again. He envied Shikha sometimes.

He knew she would be spending her weekend with her parents and friends. While he was an incorrigible personality mostly due to isolation from friends and family. It had been long, since he remembered when he was content with himself.

He tried to bore his beady eyes into the computer screen again. But, something still distracted him. He felt an urge to do something he used to do, like giving his fingers the pleasure of dancing over the strings of his guitar. He recalled the last time when he did so.

Shikha had told some stern arguments from the group discussion. He was overtly perturbed when she told him how some sex workers had to work some extra hours just for getting a few thousand bucks. He felt pity for them.

He too worked some extra hours not fore just money but also for casting a good impression over his seniors, so that he would not be forgotten on the appraisal list.

“Hi,” he said to Shikha.

“You finished your work?” she asked inquisitively.

“No. Can we meet? If you are free?” he said.

“All of a sudden?” she asked. She couldn’t fathom what Rahul had just said.

“Yeah. May be I could play a nice tune for you. My guitar is on complain mode,” he said. Shikha wondered for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“Ha ha. Sure. I think I’m getting back my old friend,” she said.

“Yeah. Rahul has stopped entertaining mental prostitution,” he finished.


Shikha remembered how he had changed all of a sudden. She wasn’t expecting that but she was happy and so was Rahul.

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