The Rogue & the Devil

R & D are two awesome men I know. Between them they're responsible for my daily dose of madness...

On the outside they're total opposites...but deeper down they have some soul connection that makes them incomplete without each other.

R is tall and lanky (likely to remain so all his life) while D is umm..a little short and sports a belly (likely to increase if I understand his genetic make-up right).
R has a headfull of long curly locks and D wears his straight hair short and military-like.
R is a rockstar at heart while D really wanted to be in Air Force..
R is the quiet kinds who you'd think would never hit on a girl (but he does)
D is the kind you just know is always trying to get lucky (but he doesn't. Try...that is). In reality he's the devoted monogamous type who even gets very worried and panicky with R's occasional PDA ways :)
R knows every rock number ever penned and sung and (claims) cannot stand hindi music, while D wants his Kajrare to get grooving...

But like i said...something just makes them click. They're like Joey and Chandler, except that neither is as funny as Chandler and nor has either had half as many women as has Joey.

They both live alone in Bandra (Bombay) and on most days after hours you could find them at a particular Barista in Bandra downing their Cappuccinos/ Americanos and being at peace with themselves.

R checks out the women (tactfully) while D connects with his intellectual self by pouring into some book and puffing at his cigarette simultaneously. That is, until R vigorously shakes him out of his concentration to point at some really hot chick.
Then they both get very excited and quickly transform into a couple of conniving boys with overactive entrepreneurial juices.

Within seconds they have a plan... They're the most dreaded mafia men in the world... with fat gold rings on their fingers and chains around their necks... they're the Gods of underworld with every imaginable shady deal to their credit. Most wanted by the Interpol they have a reward of millions for anyone who squeals on them. But not one person in 6 billion dares to.
They're rolling in money...and have not one unfulfilled desire. Dark Oakleys...diamond champaign...little guns.. and big booby girls on thier laps (with that hot chick as the prima donna) complete the picture of their deliriously luxurious life...

An hour passes and they're exhausted of their fast (fantasy) life already. They've done too many drug deals by then, had many... many sexy women, bought every single hotel, aircraft and island there ever was to buy, dodged many dangers, fooled the Interpol innumerbale times, and are ready to go down the road of spirituality and retreat to Malibu forever with a lifetime stock of cocaine.

A rumbling startles them and they're, quick as lightening, ready to pounce at the danger... Only to realize it's R's tummy making noises, reminding them rather unceremoniously of their humble and hungry reality.

They pick their bags, go in to pay. There's no need for talk to know who's turn it is to pay. They just know. They exit the cafe and take a minute to figure where to go for food. They take stock of finances and grimace a bit... 'Bad trip dude' - R says. D frowns. Well there's nothing to do about it... so they wordlessly march off towards their regular joint.

R : F***... where does the salary go dude!!
D : Maybe you get salary f***er... I get peanuts which I finish by the 3rd day....
R : Bad trip, dude...
D Puffs away and frowns

They take their regular seats at the regular place and the regular waiter approaches them.
Waiter : Regular, saab?
One of the saabs just glares in approval

They don't believe in overkill so they don't talk about their big Mafia plan anymore. Also because you don't talk about all that stuff at such places you know...

So they instead talk of the fast-approaching reality of work the next day. That's fantasy harakiri and very soon they're very pissed off. They smoke and pay the guy in silence. No tip for him today..the liver tasted burnt.

R (summarizing it all) : Bad trip dude...
D grimaces, scowls, puffs away, looks away.

And so the day comes to an end... and they head homeward. The night is still young and they both get back to their respective abodes full of light and noisy room-mates. After the mandatory socializing and phone-calls to girl-friends they call it a day.

R probably rocks himself to sleep (he has that RLM disorder thingie)... and D probably dozes off with the TV on (not sure coz i have not witnessed his bedtime ritual).

The next day dawns bright and sunshiny... and R&D are ready to take on the world. Err.. if only they could get a cab quickly since they're running about 45 minutes late...
Oh finally a cab. They furiously gesticulate for the cabbie, and jump into the cab the moment its in jumpshot..

D : F***er...we had to take the bus today... you overslept.
R : Bad trip ya dude...
D lights up, takes a puff, scowls, looks away...