I stared out of the train window onto the ominous clouds ("Premonsoon" in met department jargon) over Bandra skyline.
My neighbour in a heavy bengali accent said "Going to rain isn't it?!"
I gave a reply with a certain contortion of my face which meant "Yeah, Sure" but also could mean "My mother told me not to speak with strangers"
He carried on, however, "Myself Rogue-oo-nath from Bhayander!" Obviously, he had failed to gather the second meaning of my facial contortion. "You are ...?"
I mumbled "Rohit" not having enough time to conjure up a lie at such a short notice.
"And may I ask what is your profession?"
This time I had enough reaction time "Medical Transcription"
"Would you like to earn more money?" He was in no mood to let up.
All my sirens were blazing now so I said "Not really"
Now I was really fighting hard but did not know how to ward off this "Rogue.."!Thankfully he decided to get down at Elphinstone Road with a polite "Ok Rohit bhai good to meet you!"


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