Chapter 2: The Audacious Demand

He landed at my desk before even the chaiwala, grinning like he’d just cleared the UPSC mains. Without a 'good morning' or even a nod, he leaned in and declared, "You should split the Barbeque Nation compensation with me, right?"

I stared at him, half expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out—this had to be a prank. Who asks for compensation like this? Only in our office, I thought, fighting the urge to laugh out loud at his shamelessness.

"Arrey, what nonsense are you saying?" I blurted, voice rising. His audacity was next-level. I couldn’t decide whether to burst out laughing or just shake my head. If HR handed out awards for guts, he’d be the lifetime winner.

He flailed his hands, acting as if he was the wronged party. "If I hadn’t asked you to treat me to Barbeque Nation, how would you have gotten so lucky? You should be thanking me!"

Puffing up like a peacock, he announced, "Mujhe toh lagta hai, main toh tumhara lucky charm hoon!" The bystanders snickered, some even nodding as if it made perfect sense.

Yes, he was the one who’d insisted on the treat.

I remembered his text that morning: "Bro, kuch mast khilana hai, mood off hai. Barbeque Nation chalein?" Back then, I’d thought, accha, dosti nibha leta hoon. But look where that landed me.

My mother was ill and I’d been running from pillar to post for a loan. He’d lent me two thousand, but only on the condition that I treat him to a meal in return. That dinner alone cost me five hundred, and he’d even joked, "Don’t forget to pay me back the two thousand once you get your salary."

I clutched my phone, scrolling through UPI apps, wondering who else I could message for help. Amma’s medical bills were piling up; friends had already told me, “Paise toh nahi hai, bhai, lekin chai pila deta hoon.” Only he had agreed, with that extra rider: “Bas, ek dinner toh banta hai na, bhai!” Five hundred rupees gone in a single swipe, every rupee weighing on my heart. Next day, a WhatsApp ping: "Don’t forget my two grand, haan."

But I’d already made up my mind. His money would be the first I returned once Amma got discharged. Self-respect is self-respect—even with empty pockets.