Here is our man

It's was a regular mid August evening in Bangalore. The downpour had toned down into a drizzle, luring civilians out from their self-imposed lockdown. The non-stop pour since yesterday made it impossible to step out untill necessities. Children were estatic for the holiday on weekday and adults took excuses from work.

Our protagonist had also taken a day off. He slept till noon and had a lazy brunch of tofu sandwich and black coffee. While switching through OTTs for a binge worthy show he got a call. "Hello Gagan, how are you man?" he said picking up the call. "By the grace of God, buisness is thriving. Tell me yours?" Gagan asked in turn. "What to tell bro! Handing clients and reviewing their cases takes away my time," he replied sighing. "You are minting money and travelling abroad, what else is required? Now for these luxury a little work must be done, right?" Gagan asked. Brushing off the person discussed another topic with him.

After an hour, the men decided to cut short. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, we are having a get-together tomorrow. Will you be available?" Gagan squeezed the invitation at the end. "Probably, my schedule says so. At what time? Venue? Any dress code?" the person asked. "I shall ping you. Gotta go, bye," said Gagan and ended the call.

The person gets up from his couch and heads to the bathroom for a hot shower. Usually, his schedule does not permit him time for self-care. He just grooms the body parts sticking outside his corporate outfit and during weekends he is too tired to leave the bed. His well furnished house in M.G Road lies bare as the whole week he slaves in the office.

Next day at 12 pm, he drove to a continental resturant for the get-together. His group was already there in a reserved seat. They got up to greet him. "Glad you were able to make it, Asif," said Gagan and pulled a chair besides him. "I was free till 3 pm, you see, otherwise this job hardly lets me get around," Asif replied and sat on the chair.

"Flexing, in front of your lawyer friends?" commented a guy. "Now it's not my fault that you didn't opt for a corporate law degree. By the way you also get a large sum from the rich brats you represent, Sunil, " replied Asif mockingly. He hated Sunil and his nosiness. Lawyers like him love to bite off more than they can chew. He wasn't like that, he took cases that had the higher chances of winning. If a higher sum was involved, he ramshackled his brain to turn the case on his favour. He was ambitious not foolish.

Where is Mudassar? Didn't you invite him, Gagan?, " asked Cyril lighting up his cigarette. A waiter immediately came to table and warned them about the restaurant's policy. Putting the situation under control, Gagan replied, "You know him. He labelled this place as a 'graveyard of poor people's dreams' and went on a rant." The group laughed. They recalled his antics and his ideal values of representing the minorities.

"Wasn't Mudassar your closest friend in college, Asif?" asked Sunil steering a dispute. "He was close to all of us, ain't?" replied Asif drink the soup. "He was no doubt but at the point both of you had long and secluded discussions of your own," commented Cyril. "We were young and idealistic, it was natural discussion went longer. After you get a grip on reality, all of them shattered," Asif explained.

The group parted ways at 2:30 pm. Asif drove his Mercedes towards his home. "If it wasn't for Gagan, I wouldn't have come. What do Sunil and Cyril think of themselves? They are jealous of my status," he fumed. Maybe Asif has a secret desire to see Mudassar in the venue?

Mudassar and Asif are inseparable during college. They met each other during the freshers and became fast friends. Asif admired Mudassar's idealistic ideas for being the representative to the unspoken and Mudassar admired Asif's strong will and hardworking nature. One day while discussing the essays of Spivak, Asif revealed, "You know, my full name is Asif Noon. I belong to the Gujjars tribe of Kashmir." "Does that affect our friends? If any you should be proud of your tribal heritage," Mudassar replied. "It affected me. I was looked down. Classmates saw me as leech sucking on their opportunities," said Asif baring his heart to his close friend. "You are the most hardworking person I know. Moreover aren't we all privileged one way or the other?" Mudassar said comforting him.

The train of thoughts stopped abruptly when his official phone rang. "I didn't have anything for the day, who could it be?" he wondered while answering the phone. "Asif, at what time are you coming to the form today?" his colleague asked. "Is there anything important? I am stuck in traffic," he lied. "A client has specifically asked for you," his colleague informed. "Request them to wait for half and hour more. I am on my way," he said and drove the car towards his law firm.

Upon entering the room, he was greeted by two female appearing individuals. "Thank you for waiting this long. How may I help you?" he asked politely. The duo looked at each other and one of them spoke, "Are you Asif Noon by chance? Not Asif Quadri nor Asif Khan but the Asif Noon?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Actually we are researching on pahari tribes of Jammu and Kashmir especially Gujjars. And our paper is due on September and it's near to impossible that we get an first hand account of them within the time."

"So?"

"We had this seminar in our college where the guest speaker talked about a Gujjar friend of his living in Bangalore and we requested him to give your office address at the least."

"What is his name?" asked Asif curiously. "Mudassar Syed" the other researcher said. "And what makes you think that I want to be the part of this thing you are dragging me into," he asked agitated. "Kindness from a human to another. We shall pay you a negotiable amount. And it will take only an hour of your life," the researcher suggested.

"See even though I am Gujjar, I don't identify as one. It has been years since I last visited home. A wrong person you came to," he said and left the room. "So this is what you do for a living now, Mudassar. Ghost me and spilling my secrets to random group of people," thought Asif angrily.

The two researchers passed him speaking loudly to each other, "It wasn't entirely fruitless coming here. At least people like him would thank us for tracing his heritage for him." "No wonder the employees here were confused when they heard the name. What kind of person does not want to identify themselves as the part of community they belong to ? Trying to 'modernise' themselves it seems. If they were that 'modern' wouldn't they embrace their identity?" agreed the another.

This statement pierced Asif like an arrow. It was the second time he heard similar words. Was knowing his identity that big of a deal? He had left this question behind. Why did it crawl back to him? All these questions hovered in his mind.

"Sir, may I come in?" Asif asked knocking the door. "Yes, you may" said a feminine voice. "Asif, my boy! Come sit," the person said. "Thank you ma'am, " he said and sat in front of her. "I was tapping your progress, you have brought considerable amount of clients to the firm. Impressive, " she complimented him. "Thank you ma'am, " he said mechanically. "Looks like it has taken a toll on your body. Do you want to take some time off? Consider it as a paid vacation." she suggested. "Thank you ma'am," he said. "Alright the deed is done. Where are you planning to go?" she asked signing him a permission. "Shopian."

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