The man in Bus no.385 sat in a window-seat holding piece of paper in both his hands. All his attention seemed to be focused on that piece of paper.

It was drizzling and that absorbed a lot of humidity from the air. You will find Mumbai hot and humid at any time in the year and we Mumbaikars have now become quite accustomed to it as we are to terrorists' attacks and collapsing apartments.

He was dark, very thinly built and had a small face. His shirt was light-blue in color and a black leather bag was placed on his lap. His gaze was fixed steadfastly on that piece of paper and that made me curious like hell.

Luckily at Dadar, the passenger sitting just beside him alighted and I grabbed the seat in a fraction of second.

(This is one habit that you will notice only in a real Mumbaikar. No matter how tired we are, all our fatigue is driven away once we spot an empty seat in a bus or train.

Time and again it has been said that India performs dismally at the Olympics but if one has the patience to observe how Mumbaikars catch trains and buses, he will realize the sheer depth of talent we have for all the damned athletics in the world.

It is my honest opinion that any Tom, Dick or Mary (Women should have one-third reservation - hence Harry is out of the league) living in Vasai/Virar is capable of winning a couple of medals - at least to begin with.)

I kept on looking at him. It was a paper torn from a note-book and had something scribbled in pencil hence not distinctly visible. After a lot of time and effort, I could make out that they were some Mathematical formulas. So our man was a nerdy professor.

Now I was in a fix. Long ago in my school-days, I realized the harsh truth that I cannot be-friend Math and ever since it has been a very tough relationship (for both of us) to sustain. I can vouch for the severe pain inflicted upon myself and many of my friends - and this pain has been ever-increasing as we grew.

In the early days, big brother 'Algebra' tortured us to no end with all his Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) like "Pythagaros theorem' and 'Quadratic Equations.'

while 'Ratio and Proportion' made us realize what was the ratio of "our" IQ to those of the smarter kids - which in turn resulted in creating a major INFERIORITY COMPLEX which I have not been able to shrug off even today though today I am married and a father of a 6 year old.

And just when we thought Algebra was being kind with us, his younger brother 'Geometry' came down heavily upon us and we were badly hurt by all his pointed rays and vectors. To this day, even if someone urges me to explain difference between perimeter and circumference, I AM READY TO ACCEPT DEFEAT.

And finally all hell broke loose with the arrival of 'Trigonometry.' Looking back, I feel all Trigonometry forced at us was a huge "SIN" committed by education ministry.

And this Professor of ours was actually playing with all these WMD day in and out. Immediately in my view, he transformed into a terrorist - albeit an academic one.

I felt as if I committed a crime by grabbing this seat. It was getting real hot and immediately I began searching for some other seat. But of no avail. Not a single seat was vacant. Now what to do? Do I sacrifice this seat for fear of Math Prof or do I not ?

'To be or not to be, that is the question', says Shakespeare in Hamlet.

Finally I decided to stay put. I was really tired and quitting could have been worse. I also decided not to speak with him. But then it was too late. My continuous peeking into that goddamned piece of paper had broken his concentration. He was now looking at me and he smiled. I had to reciprocate. I smiled back.

"You are interested in Maths?",, he asked with his misty eyes.

I was about to faint...but I needed to show some courage and lot of wits.

I took the paper from him and wrote down all the givens one by one like this ...

Maximize A = x+y+z

y = 0.5x
ie. A = x + 0.5x+z
       = 1.5x + z  

Now, z = 3x + 2y
Substituting y = 0.5x we get,
z = 3x + 2 (0.5x)
i.e. z = 3x + x = 4x.

now if x = 2, y = 1 and z becomes 4 times x or 4 times 2 which is 8.
Hence the solution is 11 !"

I felt exactly the same as Robert Langdon when he cracked the Da Vinci code!
 
"Good work, Rahul. You haven't forgotten the basics. But the real problem was quite complex...  I kind of over-simplified it for you."

"But Sir, how did you solve the real problem?"

"BY FOCUSSING ON THE ROOTS! The inter-dependencies of variables. Once I figured out their mutual behaviour, it was a cake-walk!" he said in a jubilant mood.

" Thanks, Rahul. But oh no ! I need to get down. My stop has arrived. All the best to you, Rahul."

"But Sir...your good name?"

"Kasturi. Professor Kasturi." he said in a James Bond-ish style.

Just then my cell rang. It was Neha, my wife. I froze. I went blank as if I was living in a vacuum.

Neha and yesterday's fight. Some memories flashed. My furious temper and her silent suffering. Subject - Aryan, our 10-year old. He had failed in Maths and that made both of us quite upset. We had put him to the best tuitions but still he had failed. And then, Neha had uttered the bitter truth.

"Rahul, just accept it. You don't love your son enough. You just love your high profile job and your endless power-point presentations."

Now that definitely hurt my male ego.
"Ok I dont love Aryan and I don't love you either. Why don't you just leave me and my f****** work alone?"
"Now don't speak with me in a tone like that!" She had tears in her eyes.
I felt sorry but was too stiff to say sorry and patch it up.

I sat there thinking what was happening to me all these years since I decided to shoulder the "higher responsibility" at office. What the heck was really happening in my life? Why suddenly I had become so rude to Neha? Was this the real me or was it Mr.Rahul-the workaholic-and-stressed-out-professional? I couldn't get anywhere and the noise in my head kept on increasing.

I just couldn't think of facing Neha in home. There was only one place that was ideal for me and after getting down from the bus no 385 and the weirdest experience with Prof Kasturi, soon I found myself heading towards The Bar ...i.e the gym called "THE BAR" near my home.

To be continued hopefully in part 2 ..

Kahaani mein twist hain.