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THE LOST DELIVERY BOY

 

THE LOST DELIVERY BOY

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

 

20/VI/2022

 

It was Father’s Day. Bang at midnight I received a sentimental message from our daughter. She has grown up and almost ready to face her challenges. I too closed my eyes and remembered my dad. What a way to start a new day, I thought. God bless them both.

 

We were preparing to go and meet Mother in love. She too must be missing her partner in life. We too wanted to celebrate papa’s life. In the evening we made it a point we give are company as the other folks at home had gone out for a weekend.

 

I asked my wife before leaving, are you making anything special? That’s when she broke the surprise, which the ‘mother and daughter team’ were planning. Dinner had been ordered online by my daughter. Thanks to internet you can now order meals sitting Timbuktu to be delivered at Dharmi Khu. Knowing her father’s tastes well, my mouth was watering in anticipation. The excitement started to build up.

 

However, there was a change in plans. As we had to go to MILs place, we told our daughter to change the delivery address. Wife had already prepared something for MIL for a change of taste. She hadn’t been feeling well lately. The choice was to cook at her place but wife preferred to cook and carry. I was not in a mood to eat ‘ghas-phoos’ at all after all it was my day. Waiting for that Zomato/Swiggy man was now getting difficult.

 

It was 8.30 pm already and one was feeling hungry. Before I could ask my wife to check if the dinner was on the way, she received a call.  Daughter had shared my wife’s number with the delivery boy. A broad smile broke on my face in anticipation. ‘Madam main aap ka address dhoondh raha hun aur Rana Pratap Nagar ke mor par khara hun. Aap guide karo’.

 

As usual she said, aap ander a jao, ek microwave tower ayega, uske saath wali road pe seedhe aa jao, end main ghar hai. Fifteen minutes passed by and this chap did not arrive. Something was wrong. I asked my wife to call him again, probably he would have missed a turn which people generally miss.

 

Madam I cannot find your place, main ‘suratiya shastri road’ par khara hun. Where the hell is this unheard place, I thought. I was imagining my dinner slowly getting cold in his box. The aroma must be filling his nostrils. What if he tastes a portion? What the heck.

 

OK Bhaiya aap wahin ruko, hum ate hain. Though we had planned to give Ma company but we begged her leave as this poor delivery boy was facing trouble. We drove in our car from where one cuts into that locality. There was no sign of the man. It would have taken not more than three minutes for us to reach. We were not dead sure this man was lost.

 

Achha Bhaiya aap ne ‘Garden restaurant’ dekha hai, hum uske saamne khare hain aap a jao. Madam yahan koi garden restaurant nahi hai, he replied. I started losing my cool as this was getting too much. Even a blind man would locate it on the main highway. Wife asked him, ‘aap pahli baar aye ho kya is area main’.

 

Ten minutes had gone by, wife called him again. Daughter was passing instructions, wife was passing instructions, I was standing out side the car waving at every passing motorcycle. Bhaiya, lal colour ki Ertiga khadi hai restaurant ke samne. The hotel security staff came over to check us whether we were coming in for dinner or not.

 

Finally, the biggest landmark of that area is the ‘Fountain Circle’. Bhaiya aap wahan pahunch ke wait karo hum wahin milte hain. Madam yahan koi fountain circle nahi hai. While talking, this delivery boy caught hold of a local and asked him to trace the location. This man straight away said that neither there is a fountain circle nor garden restaurant here.

 

My wife got a doubt, Bhaiya aap Jodhpur se he bol rahe ho. He said no. App kahan se bol rahe ho fir. He said, Aurangabad. Our dinner was in Aurangabad, 1200 kilometers away, Now what do we do.

 

We called up our daughter to cancel the ticket.  She told us that it was cash on delivery. Treat bhi meri aur payment bhi mujhe karna hai, was the deal. We told that boy to cancel the order.

 

With my stomach in my mouth with hunger, we went to a new joint which many people had recommended. ‘Bhaiya do keema naan aur curry pack kar do’. Keema nan khatam & all tandoori items have finished, as it was passed ten. We ordered a ‘parcel’ biryani and fired chicken and drove back home. The dinner tasted so good.

 

Father’s Day was not over as yet. Next day I got a call from our gate for a visitor approval from the same food delivery company. Our daughter had ordered lunch but this time she had mentioned the correct address. We relished that too.

 

The mystery of the lost delivery boy got solved. We were happy and so was our daughter. Next time we better go and pick up our food ourselves instead of ordering and going around in circles. What says you? I wonder!!!!!!!!

 

JAI HIND

© NOEL ELLIS

 

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