tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65887279610321996072024-03-08T04:21:09.278+05:30Little Black BookZennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-30227949969648739772020-04-24T07:38:00.001+05:302020-04-24T07:38:03.774+05:30Happy reading... I suppose...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello!<br />
<br />
Been quite a while since I stared down at the blinking cursor. So here... Uploading ALL of the stories I started and left unfinished over the years (reckon some of this is from circa 2009). Not sure how long the download links will work for... So if you want to read something, reckon best to download them and then like most things in ones' refrigerator, junk them when mold begins to grow on it.<br />
<br />
NOTE: The work is not proof-read, so there will be errors, spelling mistakes, missing words among others.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><b><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=UZSxDE" target="_blank">The Great Indian Mythology</a>:</b> Was supposed to be a re-telling of Mahabharat set in today's day and age in a tongue in cheek manner. But the more I read the actual original story, I realized I can't top the fuckedupness that already exists. But, I did enjoy writing few bits of it. </li>
<ul>
<li>Will rate this 2/5. If you think what I have written is fucked up, wait till you read the actual story... Not the PG rated Amar Chitra Katha... Also points deducted because I didn't finish writing the whole thing.</li>
</ul>
<li><b><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=ges8Uv" target="_blank">Delhi - Bombay</a>:</b> One of the first attempts at screenwriting. It is a rom-com. Or was supposed to be. Its' about this guy Delhi Boy Kabir and a Bombay girl Anita. They fall in love, and decide to get married. But who is going to move to which city? </li>
<ul>
<li>Will rate this 2.5/5. It has its moments.</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=oZUHoS" target="_blank"><b>Bond Series:</b></a> At one point of time, I wanted to write a raw Bond type story. You know espionage, femme fatale but no Q or fancy gadgets and all. Just a man running against time to save the country and the world in style while getting laid and drunk, all expenses paid. There are two stories in here. One is titled error code 39 - Was supposed to be a story where China is laying high speed internet lines near Bombay to try and disrupt the stock exchange and beat the market and make India's market collapse. The other story is called, Tomorrow always comes twice - obvious reference and play on the usual Ian Fleming style titles. This I actually forgot what the story was supposed to be, wrote just the first chapter/prologue type for it.</li>
<ul>
<li>Can't rate because never finished.</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=KfQBhN" target="_blank">1949</a>: I wanted to write a revisionist story about Ayodhya-Ram Mandir-Ram Lalla and the fateful night of Dec 22-23, 1949. Then I realized that I don't have the literary gravitas to pull something like this off. </li>
<ul>
<li>Same... No rating</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=U3MLzK" target="_blank">The Man With No Name:</a> This I had serialized on the blog only. Was supposed to be one of those John Wick type movies before John Wick was made. But had oodles of fun writing this. </li>
<ul>
<li>Will rate this 3.5/5</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=m3nPoB" target="_blank">Molested Poppy:</a> Another one of those detective-buddy type stories. It has few interesting twists that I liked while writing.</li>
<ul>
<li>Will rate this 3/5</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=VeH8uo" target="_blank">AL.AN - The Nemesis:</a> Was supposed to be part 2 in the conjoined twins series provided that part 1 did well. Obviously, The Origins didn't do well, so Nemesis never did see the light of day. But now it does... </li>
<ul>
<li>Will rate this 3/5. Did some neat things with the font shont and all...</li>
</ul>
<li><a href="https://gofile.io/?c=HvIbg5" target="_blank">Satta/The Gamble:</a> I actually quite liked the villain in this story if I recall correctly. It has a boy who sets his father on fire and then goes and attends a track & field event. </li>
<ul>
<li>NA</li>
</ul>
</ul>
Also, <a href="https://gofile.io/?c=PGBD3q" target="_blank">whole bunch of other things/stuff...</a> some of them would score like 4/5 like XXY but I can't be arsed to upload the files separately now. Too bored. Also guilt has set in about me having wasted 40 odd days pretending to be a tuber vegetable. So time for me to go back to my books.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-80906583615644828712017-03-01T16:23:00.004+05:302021-07-09T10:31:58.092+05:30Here is what I think the future holds!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace;">Years ago, back in 2010, I had the good fortune for working on a trend forecasting project for a proper-proper blue chip company. Our job was to predict the future five years down the line, so that the company would be well prepared to get its pipeline of products in tune for the needs of its customers for the future. </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">It was the first time, I came across a company which had vision. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And the project and the predictions or in market speak, the trends that we forecasted have played themselves out enough for me to thump my chest like a Neanderthal calling out to Jane, the proverbial virgin. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Time has elapsed, and I seek the same rush of predicting future trends. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So, here are my trend forecasts for the next 5 years (2017 - 2022)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Prime/Select/Premium subscriptions will enlist a human component and not just rely on an algorithm. </span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">This includes media subscriptions such as Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime etc. </span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">These services will be charged on top of the services you are already paying for as a special service. </span></li>
</ul>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">There is going to be a massive shuffle up in the conventional media set-up. </span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The print/digital debate is going to be replaced with facts vs alternative facts. </span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Print/Digital debate is going to be replaced by cord cutter Vs cable</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">People are going to pay a premium for catered, customised services.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Consumption of media is going to get lot more fractured and the concept of "bubbles" and its scope is going to be get lot more smaller. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Market disruptions are going to go the physics way - In the sense that they are going to get more frequent and large. </span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The focus of innovation is now going to shift from one of providing convenience to one of providing control to the users. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">There is going to be an increased demand for storage spaces especially in urban markets. [remote garages sort of thing]</span> </li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Recycling things in a profitable manner is going to be new "it" thing in tech space. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Even more niche hobbies are going to turn lucrative</span></li>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Organic farming, homemade accessories and handicrafts are already making their forays.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Hobbyist photography, writing and other endeavours are already reaching market saturation, both from supply and demand side</span></li>
</ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> Immersive entertainment is going to take a massive step and change the way people consume audio visual stories. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Indian movies/popular discourse is going to turn lot more political as the right wing will remain in power for another 5 years as lack of leadership in opposition will remain static. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">The selfie culture of trying to promote one's life being awesome is going to mutate and take another form. [edit: 6Mar 1757hrs]</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Will update this or refine this till 31st May, 2017 and then freeze it. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="hoverbox" id="hoverpedia_bottom" style="visibility: hidden;"></div>Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-63631221873592374522015-09-03T17:21:00.003+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.253+05:30Chapter 16 - The Man with No Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">A
tight slap across the girl’s soft cheek stopped her from screaming for help. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where can I find him?</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’ Vishwa Anna questioned the
girl, his fingers grabbed the girl’s hair, pulling it from its roots.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Fear
seeped through the girl’s jeans, wetting the car seat. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The man you were fucking last night! Where is he?</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’
Vishwa Anna expounded his question, as he shifted in his seat, his eyes
languidly straying over the girl’s contours. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I don’t know! I don’t even know his name! Please let me go!</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’
The girl screamed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Take the car to the lake</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’ Vishwa Anna tapped the
driver on his shoulder from behind as he gave the direction. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Eh! Give the newspaper</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’ Vishwa Anna yelled to the
guy seated behind him. Vishwa Anna handed the newspaper to the girl, ‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Here! Sit on this. Stop pissing in my car.</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’
Vishwa Anna waved his hand. Two pairs of hands reached out from behind pulling
the girl to the very back of the car where they proceeded to pull apart her
clothes and rape her. Her screams ignored as the lights on Vishwa Anna’s car
blared down the outer ring road, warning other vehicles to make way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><b><u><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">#<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The
man ignored the school bus and trained his eyes on the traffic signal when he
heard a familiar voice calling out to him in the din of the idling motor
engines.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">He
smiled as he saw Shivu waving out to him with Dr. Sinha looking on. He waved
back. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Do
you want pizzaaa? We are going to have pizza for dinner!’ Shivu yelled as Dr.
Sinha grabbed the little boy’s shoulder, admonishing him for sticking his head
out the window. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> The man chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
Here he was running around trying to get back the last connection he had with
his family, and there was a young boy gleefully sharing his dinner plans with
him. The man caught the signal changing from the corner of his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
will see you!’ The man yelled before he sped away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Shivu!
Get back inside!’ Dr. Sinha commanded as she shifted gears. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><b><u><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">#<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘So Mr. Chakra</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">va</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">rthy…’
The IB officer stubbed his cigarette atop the table, ‘Where can I find
Inspector Hemant Gowda? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Chakravarthy
immediately jerked to reach for the phone in his pocket. The sudden move had
made one of the trigger happy armed commando twitch. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Zzfftt!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">The
bullet lodged itself firmly between Chakravarthy’s eyebrows. Chakravarthy died
immediately, his hands stuck in his pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Shankar Vaidyanathan groaned aloud as he shook his head. He
leaned forward to pull the dead man’s hand out of his pocket and found his
cellphone. The IB officer continued to shake his head in dismay as he unlocked
the phone screen and scrolled through the call log. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Wipe the scene and for fuck sake follow protocol’ Shankar
mumbled as he stared down at the commando who had pulled the prematurely pulled
the trigger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Shankar walked out of the room as he swiftly dialed the Inspector’s
number from the dead man’s phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">‘Hello? Inspector Gowda?’ Shankar smiled as he spoke into the phone. </span></div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-34959930595981365232015-07-05T16:14:00.002+05:302020-04-14T07:04:29.988+05:30Chapter 11-15 [The man with No Name]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*11*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Sir he is going with that
woman and her son</i>’ The constable reported over the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Keep following him. There
is something really fishy about that gora</i>. <i>Keep me informed every half an hour</i>’ Inspector Hemant Gowda
instructed before hanging up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The inspector’s eyes glanced from Mr. Smith’s passport and impatiently
waited for the screen to show the place where he would enter his password, one
character at a time. But all he stared was the annoying bar flashing ever so
slowly with the colorful words, ‘Windows 98’ spelled out in block letters. Inspector
Hemant Gowda flipped through the passport and found that multiple pages had
been stamped. Thailand, Greece, Spain, Bolivia. Mr. Smith seemed like a
globetrotter. He wondered what was so great about the chain which this man was
so keen on reacquiring. He had informed Rajshekar to track down Prasanna
Gundappa and ensure that he got hold of this dastard chain that the firang
seemed so keen on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He had to keep things low and quiet. If the news spread about
some marauding foreigner on the streets of Bangalore then the media circus
would effectively end not just Hemant’s career. He also didn’t want Rajshekar
calling up Vishwa Anna. He wanted to wrap things up neatly. He shuddered at the
thought of Vishwa Anna. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Vishwa Anna had been a small time goon fifteen years ago. Some
ambitious, quick thinking and brutal violence soon saw Vishwa Anna not only
holding the post of a MP, but also substantial prime real estate around
Commercial street and Hebbal. For the last two terms, he had stood uncontested
from the Hennur Taluk. The money, the women, the power, the many children he
had fathered over the years or the multiple cases of murder, rape, corruption had
dimed the man’s bloodlust. Nothing got him excited than getting his fat fingers
wrapped around the handle of a sickle. Nothing got a smile on the man’s face
than watching the last breath leave a man’s mangled bloodied body. Vishwa Anna
was a man you met before you knocked on the gates of heaven or hell. A man,
Inspector Hemant Gowda wanted to avoid at all costs. It had been a good thing
that Rajshekar had informed him about what he was planning on. But how was he
to know that the stupid fuck was going to go around chopping a foreigner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He had been smart enough to put two men on the gora’s tail even
before he visited the hospital where Rajshekar and his men were admitted. The
doctor on duty informed him that two men were still fighting for their life. Among
those who were lucky to be still breathing, albeit with great difficulty. The
litany of injuries ran for miles - broken larynx, ruptured knee cap, multiple
broken bones, multiple cuts and abrasions. One was paralyzed from the neck
down. The inspector had stopped listening midway while the doctor continued
narrating from the thick wad of papers he held clutched in his hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Look saar! Look!</i>’ Rajshekar
beseeched the inspector. It was faintly comical as grown men winced and moaned
on the metal hospital bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Tell Prasanna to come
meet me. And he better have this stupid bracelet with him</i>’ The inspector
bent down and whispered his instructions into Rajshekar’s ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Chain saar!</i>’
Rajshekar corrected the inspector. The inspector’s eyes narrowed sinisterly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>And if I get to know that
Vishwa Anna knows about this then god help you and your newly wedded wife. I
hear she likes fried fish and expensive whisky.</i>’ The inspector smiled to
offset the threat in his voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Sir! He got off at
Mallaya Hospital. The woman and her kid have gone</i>’ The constable informed
the inspector. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Forget the woman and the kid.
Keep your eyes on him</i>’ The inspector instructed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man had waved Shivu and his mother goodbye. He noticed the
Tata-Indica stopping few cars behind them. He quickly turned and entered the
hospital reception. The two constables followed him inside. He slowed his walk
for them to notice that he took the fire exit. The man quickly climbed up the
stairs, followed loudly by the out of shape pot bellied men. Having climbed five
floors, the man stopped and hid himself behind a column jutting out of the wall.
The men stopped below to catch their breath, each urging the other to hurry up.
The man rolled his eyes as he waited for his tail and checked his watch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">One constable stopped and turned, waiting for his partner to
catch up with him. ‘Where do you think he is running to?’ he whispered his
question. The man stepped out from his hiding place, his hand placed firmly
under the constable’s chin, the other at the top of his head. He smiled as he
looked at the constable huffing and puffing at the bottom of the stairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Your mobile phone!’ the man directed the constable in his grasp
slowly down the stairs to where his colleague stood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>You are a fucking dead
man</i>’ The constable hissed as he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket.
The man quickly searched both their pockets. He pulled out their ID cards,
mobile phones and wallets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He karate chopped one on the neck and kicked the other right
between his legs, before he ran up the stairs and took the elevator down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He hit the button for basement in the elevator. As people got on
and got off the elevator, he studied their IDs and drivers’ license. He got off
the lift and stepped into the parking lot. Soon enough he found just the sort
of vehicle he was searching for. A bike with the helmet clasped to the rearview
mirror. He pulled out the knife from his socks, and placed the blade on the
ignition lock. With his hand wrapped around the handle like a nail head, he
thumped it till the lock gave way. He bent down under the handlebar, found the
wire connected to the battery and hotwired the bike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As he revved the bike, he turned his wrist to make note of the
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">1608 hrs.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He had twelve more hours to get the chain. Come thirteenth hour,
he would find himself strapped to a first class seat on a flight headed to
Lisbon. It was a good thing that the CRPF, the guys who were responsible for
airport security were independent of the local cops. He checked his front
pocket and felt the outline of his passport. And if anybody at customs inquired
about the lack of baggage on him, he would just repeat the woe of the unlucky.
‘Airline lost his baggage.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But first, the inspector, his only lead, a solid lead, and
that’s all he needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*12*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Sir!</i>’ The constable
gasped for air as he stood leaning against the reception desk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Who is this?</i>’ the
inspector barked into the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Murthy sir!</i>’ The
constable answered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What happened to your
mobile?</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>He…</i>’ Murthy began to
explain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What the fuck! Why you
calling me from your mobile now? Hold on</i>’ The inspector spoke irritatedly
into the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Inspector? I have something you want’ The man spoke in a calm
manner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Where are you?</i>’ The
inspector questioned, he clenched his fists with anger. He wanted to bang it
hard against the wooden desk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am at Prasanna’s house. You know the place. And I hope that
when you come, you don’t come empty handed.’ The man hung up. The constable was
still holding the other line open. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>He fucking got away
didn’t he? You fucking whores! All I asked you to do was fucking keep an eye on
him. You useless pieces of shit!</i>’ The inspector yelled loud enough for the receptionist
to step back a little. The two constables looked at each other sheepishly as
one massaged his neck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The inspector cussed loud enough for the entire station to hear
and be wary of him as he stepped out and motioned to his driver to get the Hoysala
jeep out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He got into the jeep and shouted at the driver to take him back
to the hospital where Rajshekar and his men were admitted, when his phone
buzzed again. He looked at the name flashing on the screen and cussed aloud
again. The inspector held out his hand, motioning at the driver to stop for a
moment. He continued to stare at the name on the screen and weighed the pros
and cons of answering the call. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Somebody had snitched. Inspector banged his hand hard against
the dashboard before pasting a wide smile on his phone and swiped across the
screen to answer the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Vishwa Anna! How are you?
I was just thinking about you?</i>’ The inspector gushed into the phone. The
driver took his cue and immediately got off the jeep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What inspector? You
thought that my men will get admitted in a hospital and I won’t get to know
about it?</i> <i>What is the motherfucking
point of giving you money and free pussy</i>? <i>Huh?</i>’ Vishwa Anna barked into the phone, his voice crude and raspy
with years of smoking beedis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>I didn’t want to disturb
you Anna! This is all small matter Anna!</i>’ The inspector groveled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Who is this man?</i>’
Vishwa Anna demanded as he held aloft the chain in his hand and inspected the
medallion on it, Prasanna sat squatted next to his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Some foreigner Anna!</i>’
The Inspector began explaining. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Then nobody will cry when
he goes missing. Everyday some foreigner or the other goes missing. I keep
reading it in the newspapers</i>’ Vishwa Anna chuckled, Prasanna allowed
himself to smile. Vishwa Anna kicked him hard, his white leather sandals
planted right on Prasanna’s face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What the fuck are you
smiling at? You fucking whore’s son! All this is because of you! And you alone!
I will deal with you later</i>’ Vishwa Anna screamed at Prasanna who pushed
himself away using his palms before clutching his cheeks. Prasanna wiped the
corner of his mouth which had begun bleeding, the inside of his cheek had cut
itself against his teeth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Where can I find this man
inspector? Give me a good reason to understand as to why I give you money</i>’
Vishwa Anna demanded. Prasanna strained his eyes through his bushy eyebrows and
looked at Vishwa Anna. Vishwa Anna was dressed in a crisp white shirt and white
dhoti with matching leather sandals. His neck was covered with three thick
chains of gold. His fat fingers covered in gold rings, each studded with a
different stone. One look at Vishwa Anna and one realized that this is the man
you don’t want to engage in a physical fight with. His eyes were bloodshot, his
jowls heavy and hard. Vishwa Anna was what Prasanna imagined the devil looked
like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Wait there, I will be
there in twenty minutes</i>’ Vishwa Anna ordered as he hung up on the
inspector. He turned his attention to Prasanna who still sat squatting on the
floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>You have a kid right?</i>’
Vishwa Anna inquired benevolently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>A boy anna</i>!’ Prasanna
mumbled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Che!</i>’ Vishwa Anna
shook his head with disappointment, ‘<i>If
you had a daughter then I could have written off your debt. What should I do
with a boy?</i>’ Vishwa Anna looked around at his coterie of loyal men. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Anna, Ramaiah anna likes
them young.</i>’ One of the cohorts spoke softly with a knowing smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Looks like you are lucky
after all!</i>’ Vishwa Anna’s belly shook like a water trapped in a canister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>No anna! Please</i>’
Prasanna launched himself off the floor and on Vishwa Anna’s feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Ay!</i>’ Vishwa Anna’s
eyebrows frowned, his lips tightened as he pelted Prasanna with hard slaps, the
rings on his hand made a clunking noise as they landed on Prasanna’s head. ‘<i>Get off me!</i>’ Vishwa Anna yelled. Couple
of the men standing around Vishwa Anna jumped and pulled Prasanna away. One of
the men slid his hands under Prasanna’s armpits, his fingers closing behind
Prasanna’s neck. The others took turns at punching Prasanna hard in the gut and
face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Spoiled the crease in my
dhoti</i>’ Vishwa Anna commented as stood up to inspect his dhoti. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Anna! Please! Not my son!
Please!!!</i>’ Prasanna managed to cry aloud his pleas even as the blows rained
hard and fast on him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Vishwa Anna bent down and picked up the chain and inspected with
the medallion on it. Like a loose thread hanging off a dupatta drying in the
rainy breeze, Vishwa Anna flayed Prasanna’s face with the gold chain. Flesh
split open upon contact with the auric metal, blood splashed on Vishwa Anna’s
pristine white shirt and on the man holding Prasanna from behind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I don’t like it when men cry’ Vishwa Anna stopped to catch his
breath. He threw the chain at one his men who handed him a brand new white
shirt and a towel to dry himself off. Having wiped himself off Prasanna’s
blood, Vishwa Anna asked for the chain again. The medallion had split open like
ripe pistachio nut. One half of the medallion held a photo of a pretty young
woman and the other half held the picture of a young boy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Vishwa Anna smiled to himself as he clasped the chain with the
medallion around his own neck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*13*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The bike put-puted at the signal. The LED board about the red
signal suggested another 190 seconds before it turned green. He maneuvered his
bike between a school bus and an auto in the traffic. He looked at the auto
driver and smiled. The auto driver, unaware of the man and his antics the day
before turned his head away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Uncle? Uncle?’ The man heard a soft innocent voice calling out
to him. He turned his head around and saw a bunch of kids sticking their heads
outside their school bus window. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Which country?’ The kid questioned as the others giggled and
continued staring at the man with big toothy smiles. The man smiled back but the
smile didn’t reach his eyes, neither did he answer the kid’s question. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">His mind flashed images, he tried shaking his head clear of
them, but his memory had already started playing the movie. A movie he had put
the end title in the hotel room with a definitive bullet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eleven men jumped over the side of the dingy boat with their
rucksacks and AK-47s slung over their shoulders. They quickly made their ashore
on Israeli coast of Lebanon. A woman yelled and shouted in an American accent,
calling out to her husband. Her screams were silenced along with that of her
husband with a quick burst of gunfire. The men quickly got rid of their wet
suits, and jogged up to the coastal highway. The men were members of Fatah, the
militant arm of PLO. Fatah group had gained international prominence when they
carried out the brutal Black September Massacre. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">They moment their feet touched the concrete highway, they opened
fire. The bullets caught the sides of passing traffic. One of the taxis
ferrying its passengers from Juniyah to the town of Jubayl skidded to a halt as
the driver reacted to the distinctive sound of gunfire. Three men ran towards
the taxi, spraying bullets like gardener sprays water from a hose. The pushed
and pulled the bodies out and commandeered the taxi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">One of the armed men, having crossed the highway positioned
himself at a convenient location giving him unfettered view of the long stretch
of road. He was the only one who preferred the American M-40 with the mounted
scope. He lay flat on his belly, his eye firmly placed behind the telescopic
sight as he picked his target. His first was a teenager seated in the backseat
of a car, gesticulating wildly and worriedly at his parents in the front car. He
gently squeezed the trigger. Moments later, the teenager slumped in his seat.
The rear window resembled a mural made out of spaghetti and tomato sauce. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Seven men got aboard a school bus, carrying 36 school children
and three teachers. The men shot the bus driver at point blank range before
throwing his body overboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The eleven men had an open brief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Spread mayhem.</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The objective was to thwart the Israeli-Egyptian peace talks due
the following week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man was in-charge of overseeing security for the talks. He
sat in his office going through the Hotel American Colony’s blueprint. Marking
the ins and out. He lit a cigarette and closed his eyes, imagining himself in
the shoes of a possible attacker. Yvet ran into his office, sadness and anger
streaming down his eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Aaliyah and Jonah!</i>’
Yvet mouthed the names as the man watched him take support of the doorway
before slumping on the floor and breaking down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man switched on the TV set sitting in the corner of his
room. The news showed Israeli police cars chasing a school bus as the bus
bulldozed its way through the roadblocks. The man managed to read the name of
the school painted on the side of the bus despite the blurry images flashing on
the screen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Yehowah!</i>’ The man
silently exclaimed as he grabbed the corner of the TV set and crouched on the
floor, willing the TV to change reality. The chain with the medallion swayed
around his neck, tinkling as it hit the TV screen, joining him in his prayers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">March 14, 1988. The 11 armed men took the lives of 51 Israelis –
including 27 children and wounded 83. In the final firefight, which ensued
between the seven men aboard the school bus and the Israeli police, the bus
burst into flames and exploded as one of the grenades slipped from the bloodied
hands of one of the men inside the bus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">27 years later, the man who concocted the plan, the man who
financed the operation lay gunned down in a hotel room number 614, in
Bangalore. The death had brought closure to a three decade long pain. It was
meant to be the man’s last mission.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He was giving up everything after this mission. All his years in
training, everything he knew. The world it seemed to him, wasn’t done with him.
He heard the voice of Al Pacino in his head yell, ‘<i>Right when I was out… They pull me back in!</i>’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> ‘Nice bike’ the schoolboy
complimented the man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Fuck off kid!’ The man spat out as he revved the bike and shot
through the traffic as the LED counter counted down <i>3…2…1</i> and the lights changed from amber to green.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*14*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>I need a favor saar</i>’
The inspector beseeched the person he was speaking to over the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What is it this time Gowda?’ The speaker on the other end of
the satellite call spoke in anglicized English. His tone ruing the day he had
to get his no-good son out of a DUI. The two men, the inspector and he had been
classmates back in Mandya.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> ‘<i>I need the number of that fellow you know</i>’ Inspector continued with
his pleading tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Which fellow Gowda? I
don’t have time for this. I am in the middle of something here</i>’ he replied
as he excused himself with a smile from the group of Japanese men dressed in a
sharp business he sat in the midst of. He buttoned his jacket and motioned to
the steward to get another round of expensive whisky for the Japanese
gentlemen. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards the young woman he was
seated beside him to engage the Japs. He watched her slide into his chair and
run her manicured fingers up one of the Japs’ thighs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>This better be fucking
good Gowda, because if this deal tanks then I am going to fuck you till you
bleed tears out of your ass</i>’ The man broke into chaste Kannada as he
admonished the inspector.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>I need the number of the
CBI fellow. The one you gifted the escalate car to</i>’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Escalade! Not escalate. And
what have you got yourself into?</i>’ The man scowled before turning his back,
a big smile etched on his face and mimed ‘two minutes’ with his raised hand to
the bored Japanese men who were whispering to each other in loud hushed tones. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Vishwa Anna</i>’
Inspector explained. The name held enough gravitas for the man to acknowledge
that the call was warranted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Fine! I am texting his
number and I will tell him to help you out with whatever you need.</i>’ The man
replied with resignation. ‘<i>But this is
going to be last fucking favor I do for you Gowda. You and me are done. You
understand me?</i>’ The man added.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Thanks maga</i>’ The
inspector smiled as he hung up. He was still seated in the white Mahindra
Scorpio with the red and blue stripes down its side popularly referred to as Hoysala.
His phone buzzed. His lips spread in a sigh of relief, with hope. He tapped his
phone screen twice and held the phone next to his ear. He pushed open the car
door and stepped out. He heard the phone ringing on the other end of the line,
he prompted for the driver to give him a cigarette. The driver did his bidding.
The ringing stopped, and a weak male voice answered the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Hello?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Hello, Mr. Chakravarthy?’ Inspector Gowda inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Chakraborthy… Buh… Not vuh…’ The bespectacled man pushed back
against his chair and closed the browser window with two women cavorting each
other on his desktop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes. This is Inspector Gowda, I hope our mutual friend…’ The
inspector began explaining before being abrupting cut short.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes. Tell me what do you want, and tell abour frand he and I
are done.’ The man spoke, his heavy Bengali mother tongue twisting and turning
his tongue to speak in a language he considered his inheritance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I have a passport. His name John Smith, I want you to take the
passport number down. And I want to know everything you can get’ Inspector
Gowda explained as he pulled out Mr. Smith’s passport from his breast shirt
pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am listening’ the CBI man tapped few keys on his keyboard,
double clicked on the proprietary Central Bureau of Investigation’s software.
The software linked all the databases shared by Intelligence Bureau, the Indian
equivalent to United States Homeland Security, United Kingdom’s MI5 and the Research
& Analysis Wing, the Indian equivalent to United States CIA and United
Kingdom’s MI6. He waited as he heard cloth and paper rustling on the other end
of the line. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Inspector Gowda held his mobile phone between his cheek and
shoulder as he tried keeping the page away from the thick cardboard cover. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘3.0.6.7.8.5.8.8.1’ Inspector Gowda narrated the passport
number. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What’s the authority code’ the Bengali man inquired as his
fingers quickly pushed down on the number pad on his keyboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Ah yes!’ Inspector Gowda exclaimed as he spotted the code on
the passport. ‘U for You. K for Kangaroo. P for paisa. A for Apple’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘That’s the press corp’ Chakravarty explained as he waited for
the computer to spew out the results. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What does that mean?’ the inspector wanted to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘It means that the man you are looking for is a journalist. But
then again a lot of people are journalist. Them and their blogs and facebook
posts.’ The man half heartedly explained as he waited for the sand timer to
stop turning and change its shape back to a pointer. The screen turned blue,
with two words written in big block letters in black flashing across his screen
every second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<b>Access restricted: <i>753</i></b>’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Aaga</i>’ Mr.
Charkravarthy cussed under his breath. This wasn’t normal. He looked at the
code, ‘753’. He hadn’t come across this code in all his thirty one years of
experience. Something didn’t sit right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Hello?</i>’ The inspector
inquired, wondering if his man in CBI was still on the other line or if the
connection had dropped out. He was after making what he presumed to be an STD
call. Inspector Gowda prided himself to be as old school as they came, much to
his teenage son and daughter’s embarrassment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes, yes. How soon do you bhaant this?’ The CBI man inquired as
he continued staring at the computer screen. This was a puzzle he could put his
esoteric Bengali brain behind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The sooner the better sir, I am in how they say in English, in
a of fix’ Inspector Gowda smiled vacuously at his reflection in the Hoysala’s
tinted glasses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Okay, give me half an hour, I bill call you back’ Said the CBI
man before he hung up. He called out to his assistant and instructed him to
bring him the big instruction manual he hadn’t seen or read in over two years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Seven pi three’ Mr. Chakravarthy muttered under his breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Nanna helu tinnu baa</i>!
<i>Half an hour!</i>’ Inspector Gowda cussed
under his breath, inviting the arrogant Bengali man to come eat his shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Sir? Shall we go?</i>’
The driver inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Go? Go fucking where?</i>’
The inspector scowled and spat the question at the poor unsuspecting driver in
frustration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As he flung the spent cigarette butt against the side of the car
and watched the embers split from the butt, a neural pathway in his old school
brain lit up. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled down
the list of called numbers till he found Rajshekar’s number. He waited till his
phone was answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Where did Prasanna say he
dropped the girl last night?</i>’ The inspector jumped his question, this was
no time for foreplay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Acropolees, the big
building next to Forum mall</i>’ Rajshekar wheezed his response. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*15*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Charkravarthy<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext;">’s phone buzzed, like a fly caught
inside a car with its windows rolled up. His beady eyes glistened with the
black and white text flashing before his eyes as he frantically tapped the keys
on his keyboard. The manual which lay spread beside his terminal didn’t list
any error code numbered ‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><b><span style="color: windowtext; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">753’</span></b></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext;">. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Sir?’
The wiry kid dressed in ill fitted hand stitched clothes stuck his head through
the door. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">‘</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Haram jada!</span></span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">’ </span></span><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Charkravarthy cussed as he opened his eyes as wide as they
could, trying to summon all the telekinetic powers needed to incinerate the man
standing in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Bhaat?</i>’ he barked at
the kid who stood perplexed, with thick beads of sweat rolling down his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Sir, your phone?’ The young man pointed towards the blinking
3.7 inch phone screen. The assistant just paused long enough for his boss to shift
his angry eyes from him and look at his phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Hello?’ Charkravarthy barked into the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mr. Charkravarthy?’ The voice on the other end of the phone was
both electronic in its tone and muffled in its volume. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes?’ Charkravarthy knew an authoritative tone in someone’s
voice even in his sleep. And this was definitely authoritative voice on the
phone speaking to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Step away from your
computer!</i>’ The muffled electronic voice on the other end of the phone line
instructed the now visibly nervous Bangla man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<b><i>Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!</i></b>’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Charkravarthy heard the command being barked, not from the phone
but from outside his office. Black uniformed guards put his poor assistant in a
stronghold as Charkravarthy stared at the opening of a gun barrel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Charkravarthy’s reflexes kicked in as he put his hands behind
his head and waited for further instructions. His sub-consciousness had
registered enough action movies his teenage sons watched for his body to
respond accordingly to the situation. He strained his eyes and looked beyond
his bushy eyebrows and saw a tall angular faced man pushing his phone back into
his pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>At ease!</i>’ The man
commanded the armed guards surrounding Charkravarthy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mr. Charkravarthy?’ The angular faced man questioned as he
seated himself on the other side of the table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Yes.</i>’ Charkravarthy
replied, his bottom lip quivered as his mind tried to settle the bet between
flight and fight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘My name is Shankar Vaidyanathan. And I am from Intelligence
Bureau’ The man with the clean shaven angular face introduced himself. He
didn’t extend his hand forward neither did he join them together in a Namaste. Charkravarthy’s
lower lip stopped quivering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You know what annoys me on early Sunday evening?’ Shankar posed
the rhetoric question. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Getting called to take care of business. Though I must say that
I much prefer doing this than listening to my son practice playing the violin.’
Shankar smiled as he slipped his hands into his pant pockets. Charkravarthy’s
eyes followed Shankar’s hands and saw him pulling a cigarette case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You smoke?’ Shankar snapped open the cigarette case and offered
it to Charkravarthy who suspiciously pulled a singular cigarette out of the
neatly lined case. ‘Of course you do. I am sure that you have many questions
running through your head. Such as, who am I? What am I doing in your office?
Who are these armed men?’ Shankar paused long enough to light his cigarette.
Charkravarthy leaned forward with the cigarette cupped between his lips. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Like I said I am Shankar Vaidyanathan from IB and these men
are, well they are armed and trigger happy’ Shankar chuckled as he coughed up
smoke caught in his lungs. ‘The rea…’ He coughed some more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The reason I am in your office right now is because you ran a
check on a passport number UKPA 306785881’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-78124696986980293902015-06-23T17:15:00.002+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.463+05:30The Man With No Name - Chapter 10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*10*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am sorry about all this’ The man spoke as the woman turned
around after closing the main door behind her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shivu go and get ready for school’ The woman ignored the man
and instructed her son. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mumma! It is Sunday’ The boy rolled his eyes as he admonished
his mother, before running to place his young behind on the settee and grabbed
the TV remote. He punched buttons on the remote and Ninja Hatori came on the
screen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘How long was I out?’ The man questioned as he tried standing up
on his feet, with the bedsheet clutched around his waist. The woman walked to
the kitchen ignoring the man. The man stretched and took support of the couch
and the dining table as he followed her into the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I didn’t mean to cause you guys any trouble. I will be out
soon. As soon as I figure out where my shirt is’ The man explained. The woman opened
the fridge and pulled out six eggs. She loudly plopped the skillet on top of
the stove, yelled to her son from the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shivu, what eggs do you want?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Kacha-mucha</i>’ the boy
yelled back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You fine with scrambled eggs?’ The woman looked at the man for
the very first time. She stared at him with deep disdain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes. Thank you!’ The man smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Go into the bedroom, you will find shirts hanging in the
cupboard on your left.’ The woman instructed as she pointed the way. As the man
made his way towards the pointed direction, the woman spoke again. ‘I hope you
are out after breakfast.’ The man nodded his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Switch off the TV! Come and have breakfast’ The woman ordered
her son. The man sat down opposite the boy, dressed in a pair of jeans which
was a size too big for him and a pale blue shirt cinched together with a
leather belt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The whole floor was flooded.’ The boy exclaimed looking
excitedly at the man. ‘Water, water everywhere…’ He boy sang as he picked up
toasts from the tray onto his plate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What’s your name?’ The man smiled looking at the boy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shiv Shankar, but everybody calls me Shivu’ The boy grinned as
he stuffed his face with scrambled eggs and toast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Close your mouth and eat’ The mother admonished.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘How long was I out for?’ The man gingerly raised the subject
again, softly enough for Shivu to ignore the adult talk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Thirteen hours. I think I need to apologize to you. I am vet
and I don’t do humans. I am afraid that I may not have done a good a job. You
might want to go to a hospital and get it redone.’ The woman spoke hurriedly
avoiding the man’s searching green eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘It is good that Shivu came and saved me.’ The man smiled as he
gave the young boy a conspiratorial wink. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man pushed his plate away and sighed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Thank you for breakfast and everything else.’ The man pointed
to his shirt, ‘I will get out of your way now.’ The man declared as he sipped
the last of his orange juice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘If you need anything, let me know’ the woman offered with a
weak smile as she held the main door open for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mumma? Why is he wearing dada’s shirt? Will he return it?’ The
boy inquired as he plonked himself in front of the television set again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Bye shivu!’ The man waved, ‘And yes, I will bring back dada’s
shirt’ the man grinned before awkwardly turning his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man gently pushed open the door and heard the door sweep the
broken glass behind it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">#<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> He heard the door bell ring. He turned the
water off, he loosely wrapped a towel around his waist. He pulled the gun from
the shoulder holster hanging behind the bathroom door, he checked the magazine
and the silencer. He quickly walked to the door. He looked through the peep
hole and saw nothing. The door bell rang again. He put the chain latch in its
place, pulled the safety off his gun. He heard the rustling of cloth against
the door and wall. He opened the door ever so slightly when somebody kicked the
door. The chain latch did its job. But there were too many hands with makeshift
swords and iron rods. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <i>Zffft!</i>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The first shot caught an eager man trying to push his way past
the door in the knee. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The chain latch gave away. A sea of bodies tumbled in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Zffft!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The second shot caught another assailant in his shoulder. A rod
swung high in the air and caught the man on his shoulder, forcing him to drop
the gun. Reflexes took over. His fist moved through the air, catching somebody
right in the solar plexus, his heel catching somebody in the neck. Things were
hurled. Flesh was pounded. Bones and fragile objects were shattered. But the
chaotic flaying about of sharp objects was intense. A sword cut through the
flesh on his arm, a sickle sliced through his shoulders and an iron rod found
itself deep in his guts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">#<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The man quickly walked to the bedroom,
pulled out a new white t-shirt, jeans, fresh socks and slipped on his vans
sneakers. He jumped and pulled out the taped plastic bag from behind the geyser
in the bathroom. He quickly counted the stack of money and pushed it back
inside the plastic bag. He pulled out a red passport, his gateway identity, the
color synonymous with the country – Swiss Red. He stuck his hand inside the
plastic bag one last time and pulled a switchblade and a brass knuckle. He slid
the knife in his socks and stashed the brass knuckle in his jean’s pocket. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> He stepped out of the apartment complex,
crossed the road and bought two packs of classic milds from the pan shop. He
lit a cigarette as he waited for change and scanned the road from behind his
aviators. He saw the nondescript Tata-Indica waiting on the corner of the road,
leaning on it, two plainclothes men wearing khaki shoes. He smiled and waved at
them. The two plain-clothed policemen ignored him. He chuckled to himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> As he stood pulling hard on the cigarette,
he weighed in his options. He couldn’t take the nano, not because of its garish
color, but because using it would lead them to connect the vehicle with the
dead Hamas body back at the hotel. Taking an auto meant going around with a
giant target painted on his back. He stretched his back and winced at the pain
around his gut. He felt the soft spongey feeling of the bandage underneath his
t-shirt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Hello!</i>’ he heard a
voice yell at him from across the road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He saw Shivu waving at him as his mother steered the car to a
stop outside the apartment’s main gate. The man jogged his way to the car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Should I drop you somewhere? The hospital perhaps?’ Dr. Sinha
inquired as she looked at her son smiling gleefully at the man, whose name she
hadn’t bothered to inquire yet. All she knew was that Shivu had dragged her
down the stairs and pointed to the water flooding out of the bathroom from
Apartment 3A. She saw the wreckage and stepped gingerly into the room while she
instructed Shivu to go down and call the watchman. When she saw the naked man
laying on the floor, his finger stuck deep inside his gut, with blood trickling
down. The many years of medical training and practice kicked in. She called out
to Shivu to go fetch her medical bag and instructed the watchman to call the
cops and an ambulance. The watchman stood watching perplexedly at the woman
deftly wipe and clean the wound before sticking the thread in the eye of the
needle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The woman called out to the watchman to help her lift him. The
two of them struggled to carry the man into the lift and drag him on the
woman’s couch. The young boy kept his distance while excitedly looking on at
what his mother did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘That would be great!’ The man hurriedly got to the other side
of the car and got in. As he buckled in his seat belt, and a moment of thought,
he added ‘Only if am not imposing on you’, The man smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You were naked yesterday!’ Shivu exclaimed as he burst into a
fit of giggles. The man turned around and smiled at the young boy. His eyes
were glued on the Tata-Indica as the two men got inside and instructed the driver
to follow the Honda City.</span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-64215575207239561312015-06-22T11:30:00.003+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.329+05:30The Man With No Name - Chapter 9 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*9*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Move! Move! Move!</i>’
The instructor screamed into the megaphone as the recruits whinged and crawled
their way under the barbed wire with live fire going whizzing past their heads.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Remember this sound! This is the sound of AK-47! This is the
weapon of choice of your enemies, of our enemies. And it makes a <i>very</i> distinctive sound.’ The instructor
yelled as he watched one of the recruits duck to avoid getting his head blown
off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Yvet looked over his shoulder and looked at his buddy and smiled
his gleeful smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You watch my six!’ Yvet grunted. The man grinned, showcasing
his white teeth before the instructor kicked dirty water over the two.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Move! Move! Move!</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The two men trudged forward on their fours in water, mud and pig
guts strewn over the barbed wires, to replicate human fatalities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man opened his eyes. The ceiling didn’t look familiar; neither
did the smell of the place. It wasn’t a hospital - the smell was too floral and
homely to be a hospital or a clinic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Mummma!</i>’ the man
heard a shrill young boy’s voice ring out close to him and the sound of soft
skin on the boys’ feet flopping stupidly over the marble floors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man tried turning his head around, but it hurt. He ran his
hands over his torso, to gauge the extent of the damage. He was shirtless, his
wound heavily bandaged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">His eyes rested on the flat screen television set and the
souvenirs resting on top of it. Owl figurines, toy airplanes and a digital
photo display. The pictures changed every five seconds. The pictures showed a
happy family of three – Serious looking husband with a severe case of receding
hairline, a pretty looking wife and a young boisterous son aged seven or eight.
The sunlight <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Ah! You are awake!’ The male voice boomed. The man saw a
balloon dressed in khaki walking towards his cone of vision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Dr. Sinha was fearing that you might die on her couch.’ The pot
bellied man dressed in Khaki with the three stars on his lapel suggested that
he was the man in charge, the fact that he spoke in what could be construed as
English and was followed by the woman in the photos with a young boy in tow underlined
the man’s suspicion. The woman and the boy kept their distance from the man and
stayed plenty of feet behind the Inspector.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man blinked as he grunted while trying to pull himself up
against the armrest of the couch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shivu go inside!’ He heard the woman instruct the young boy. The
boy held on tightly to the woman’s beige pants. From the look of the woman, she
didn’t seem like she had any sleep in the last thirty six hours. The skin
around her eyes was tight and dry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The boy was the one who reported the flooding in your flat. He
was also the one who found you bleeding on the bathroom floor’ the inspector
explained, flashing his eyes. The man mentally took note of the name on the
badge, ‘Hemant Gowda’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Madam, if you could go
inside, I would like to take his statement</i>’ the inspector motioned to the
woman and the boy towards their bedroom, breaking into his native tongue. The
woman caught hold of the boy’s hand and turned her back on the man. The boy
craned his neck and smiled an innocent smile which he found the man returning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Inspector Hemant Gowda pulled forward one of the settees and sat
at the edge of it. He surveyed the naked torso and the bloodied pants of the
man laying on the couch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You know, I have been hearing reports all day yesterday of some
foreigner with green eyes, thin lips, short cropped hair asking about some
stupid chain has been walking around and making a mess in my city.’ The
inspector lowered his voice as he looked over his shoulders to ensure that Dr.
Sinha and her son were away from earshot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The inspector held out a maroon colored passport with the emblem
of three lions and the British monarchy’s crown etched over its crown. If the
man was smiling, his lips or his face didn’t show. It was clear that the cops
had searched his place, but hadn’t found his stash of passports and emergency
money stowed away behind the geyser in the bathroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mr. Smith?’ The inspector studied the photograph glued inside
the passport with skepticism. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am sure that you are not going to be placing a complaint, nor
are you going to aid us in our investigation to find out who was behind this
dastardly attack. And I can bet that you wouldn’t know anything about this gun
we found in your apartment either’ The inspector’s voice was low and
conspiratorial, to avoid the accidental eavesdropping by Dr. Sinha. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I don’t know what you are talking about officer’ The man
grunted as he clutched the bandaged wound on his gut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You know, I knew you would say something like that. They show
Hollywood movies dubbed in Kannada you know’ the inspector grinned glibly. ‘You
know that auto driver you met yesterday?’ The inspector looked keenly the man’s
face for any signs of recognition. There was none. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘He would have been the one who spoke in English? Rajshekar?’
The inspector added, till his found the expression what he was looking for -
dilated pupils and the ever so slight twitch of the eyebrows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The inspector smiled before continuing, ‘He told me that he
would be doing something stupid like this before he barged in with his men like
some idiot. And when I asked him if he was stupid enough to leave behind a gun,
he said that it was you who kneecapped two of his men before they got the
better of you. Now, I can arrest you for that, but it brings too much
attention. You will call your embassy and then the media will be involved. And
the paper work… <i>yabba!</i> So much paper
work’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man raised his eyebrows, but looked on with a blank
expression pasted on his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You see that ninety percent of autos in this city are owned by
people like me and my bosses. So anything that happens to the drivers, then it
becomes a personal matter.’ The inspector placed his hand over the man’s torso.
The heel of his palm pressing hard over the blood stained gauze. The man winced
as his neural pathways ignited with pain. The man grinned, which surprised the
inspector.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You see you owe me and my men seventy thousand rupees. Let us
just for damages’ The inspector took off his hand and wiped it on the bedsheet
covering the man. ‘I wouldn’t be making this demand if I had found money
stashed in your apartment. But we didn’t. And that puts me in a very awkward
position.’ The inspector continued as he pulled up the bedsheet and covered the
man’s bandages. ‘I will keep your passport for safekeeping, Mr. Smith, you
shall get it back once you have repaid the money you owe me and apologized to
my men. And with regards to the matter of the chain you been searching, I
wouldn’t be so hopeful. In all likelihood, it would have been pawned off and
then sold off. So you better call whoever you have to call to get me my money.
You understand?’ The inspector concluded as he pushed back the settee and stood
up, extending his hand with his visiting card. The man took the card and
nodded. The inspector motioned to one of the constables to bring out Dr. Sinha
and her son. The man nodded in response to the inspector’s implicit threat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man smiled at the boy who followed behind his mother. The
boy reminded the man of the picture which was ensconced in one half of locket
hanging on the gold chain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Thank you Madam!’ The inspector spread his fat cheeks and
contorted it to resemble a smile. ‘You really should have allowed Mr. Smith to
be admitted to a hospital’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘It’s okay. I am just glad that he is alive.’ Dr. Sinha smiled
feebly as she clutched her son’s shoulders tightly. With the awkward weight of
silence hanging in the room, Inspector Hemant Gowda ushered his constable to vacate
the premise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Will call you soon with updates Mr. Smith’ The inspector called
out as he stood outside the door. The man was sitting on the couch by now. There
were questions he wanted answers to and he couldn’t ask them with the cop
standing in front of the doorway with the glib smile pasted on his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-87090557834521865962015-06-19T16:06:00.003+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.596+05:30Chapter 7 & Chapter 8 - The Man With No Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*7* <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Nothing prompts a man to act than the caustic words of a woman
questioning his manhood and threatening to take away his son. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Phones had been ringing all through the day. The brotherhood of
auto drivers had been on the man’s tail through the day. Information was
collated and passed on. It was no longer a question of price as it was a
question of pride and respect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man stopped the car at wine shop, purchased a quart of vodka
and got back inside. The day had been long and tiring. He navigated the traffic
and made his way to the apartment leased under the dubious name, David Davidar.
A name different from the one he used to enter the country, Frederic Raphael. A
name different from the one he will use to exit the country, Joshua Ferris.
Names he had seen on book covers, books he had no interest in reading. The only
things he read now were letters he kept locked in a safe box back in Leumi Bank,
letters written by his wife and kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The driver stopped the auto by the side of the road and made the
call, people had been waiting for all day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man opened the door, switched on the lights, opened the
freezer, pushed the bottle of Vodka in, pulled out a frozen bag of peas and
placed it over the back of his head. He found the remote for the iPod player
and played the music as he pulled out off the tie off his neck and proceeded
towards the bathroom for another shower. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Is he alone</i>?’ The
voice over the phone wanted to confirm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>The lights were off
before he went in. He switched on the lights…</i>’ The auto driver commented
all that he saw. Little money went a long way. The guard had been more than
happy to cooperate when the crisp pink and orange colored thousand rupee note was
crisply snapped in front of his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Keep watching. Will be
there in another 10 minutes</i>’ the voice on the other end of the phone
ordered before hanging up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The auto driver and the watchman of the gated community spoke in
the language of the migrants, Hindi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What did he do?</i>’ The
watchman inquired, wanting gossip to share with his drinking buddies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Not sure, but whatever he
did, he is going to pay for it. Big time</i>’ the auto driver smiled knowingly.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Where are you from?</i>’
The auto driver inquired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Nepal!</i>’ The watchman
proudly proclaimed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>My wife’s brother’s
friend went to Nepal once. Said you could buy a kilo of Ganja for two hundred
rupees</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>You get everything in
Nepal.</i>’ The watchman offered a beedi to the driver, the driver shook his
head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Then why the fuck did you
have to come to Bangalore?</i>’ The auto driver demanded, as the watchman lit
up his beedi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>No jobs there. Full politics.
Full violence there. Wife’s sister works in Indira Nagar. She said you get paid
five thousand rupees a month just to walk a dog twice, once in the morning and
once in the evening. So we moved</i>’ The watchman narrated the story of his
life between hard pulls on the rolled up tobacco leaf. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>I don’t understand how
wives know so much about the world even though it is us men going out and
working and earning money for the family</i>’ The auto driver lamented. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>You have TV and cable
connection?</i>’ The watchman inquired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Got it in dowry</i>’ The
auto driver answered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>That’s how! See, we men,
what do we do?</i>’ The watchman waited for the auto driver to answer to his
rhetoric question. The driver kept quiet, waiting for the watchman to explain
further. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>We men, we go out, we see
the world, we try and see where we can earn enough money so that the stove
keeps burning and how we can get a drink or smoke and forget about all the
stupid boring things that we do through the day. Like I can’t go to sleep
without drinking a quarter of rum every day.</i>’ The watchman pulled hard on
the beedi before dropping it down on the tar road and twisting out the burning
embers with his toe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>But my wife, she goes and
washes vessels in all this big, big peoples’ house. She talks to the big madams
and their children. And they keep watching TV or doing things on the computer.
Then she comes home, cooks for the kids and watches serials. And when I come
home, she tells me that the kids don’t have eggs with toys in them. The cable
bill has to be paid. I shouldn’t drink so much. I should act more like the big
people. And seeing me, the kids will also act like that and we can move up in
society. We don’t care for such things. What we need is a warm body and enough
booze to let us sleep in peace. Women, even they don’t know what they need</i>’
the watchman explained. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The two men shared a moment of silence. Only to be broken by the
loud rat-ta-tat sounds of four-stroke CNG engines of autorickshaws. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The English speaking auto driver got off his auto. His neck
wrapped around with a foamy skin colored brace. The dangerous looking men got
off the other four autos. The other auto drivers were in a worse condition that
the English speaking one. One auto driver even had a crutch to support himself,
his leg taped up with makeshift sticks and heavily bandaged together. The goons
threw their pre-mixed bottles of cheap whisky and mineral water down by the
side of the road. They were ready for some action. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Where?’ The English speaking auto driver inquired, his
question, more a threat than a question. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Third Floor, Apartment 3A’ The watchman answered, his mind
racing for an excuse to account for his absence when things got hairy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Anybody come in or go out?’ The English speaking auto driver
interrogated the chatty auto driver. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘No!’ The driver answered, his head shaking vehemently to
support his statement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*8*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Hospital! NOW!</i>’ Somebody
yelled as the autos were hurriedly started, broken bleeding bodies hauled
themselves in as they scampered into the traffic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The inside of Apartment 3A looked like a crash site. Broken
glass, furniture littered the marble floors with blood splayed across the
walls. The man lay on the floor clutching his sides. His face bruised and cut. He
pulled himself off the ground and trundled with great effort into the bathroom
to take a look in the mirror to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He knew
if he didn’t close the opening in his gut, he would bleed and die in the next
seven minutes. He shoved the tube of toothpaste between his teeth to clamp down
on as he gingerly pushed his index finger inside the bleeding wound. He
remembered his battalion commanding officer’s words at the end of his long first
day at training camp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Pain</i> is your ally. <i>Pain</i> is going to be your one true friend
for the rest of your life. <i>Pain</i> is
going to be that motherfucking whore son of a bitch who is going to tell you
when to call it quits. Eighty Nine percent of you numbskulls are going to fail
this program. It’s a fact. Out of the remaining eleven percent, only two will
get selected to mount missions on their own. I am looking for just two men, two
men who will treat pain like it’s their first pubescent orgasm. Two men who
will grin and clap their hands when <i>pain</i>
presents itself like a nymphomaniacal whore in Manila tripping on ‘shrooms
begging for your cocks. Because gentlemen!’ The instructor paused for dramatic
effect, his eyes sweeping up and down on the uniform rise and fall of his
troops up and down, while screaming the push up count. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Because if you are feeling <i>pain</i>,
it means you are still alive and you should be happy! And I want to see smiles
on your ugly faces’ The instructor barked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man grinned as his fingers felt around the gooey mess that was
his innards. He tried hard to keep his eyes open even as he slumped on the
floor, to conserve energy. His eyes vaguely made out the plastic box of dental
floss. If he could just reach it, without letting his index finger moving from
the open artery, he still had a chance. He tried pulling himself up, using the
washbasin for support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The washbasin broke. Water sprayed. He lay on the wet floor, unconscious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-43771826764458742712015-06-16T14:07:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.115+05:30Chapter 6 - The Man With No Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*6*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The man checked the address twice before
punching in the address into the GPS. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The female android voice prompted him the way. He diligently
followed the lefts, the rights and the straights, till he reached a road
impossible for any vehicle to traverse through. The android woman insisted on
heading straight for another 500 meters to reach destination. He found a spot
by the side of the road to park. He unclipped his seat belt, checked the gun and
the spare magazine. Pulled the phone of its holder on the dashboard, closed the
program with the android woman and stepped out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He stood out like a vestigial tail flopping around in the wind. Kids
playing cricket on the streets, men drinking tea and women gaily chatting
amongst themselves stopped themselves and stared at this abrupt interruption in
their routine. He walked to the group of men who held their cups of tea in
their hands and cigarettes hanging from their lips. He pulled the cigarette
from a man’s lips and shoved the phone screen in his line of sight. Residents
crept out of the crevices they called homes to look this creature. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna?’ The man queried as he pulled hard on the cigarette. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna?’ The man asked around his peers who sat next to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Auto driver!’ The man offered to clear their confusion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Why? What do you want?
Tell me, you want women? Grass? Coke? Booze?</i>’ The tea drinking, dhoti and
baniyan clad man gleefully inquired, sensing quick money from the skin tone and
the cut of the suit as he handed the phone back <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man pulled out the tin lid covering the glass jar filled
with biscuits to go with the tea and smacked it hard against the man’s cheek. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna, auto driver. Where?’ The man repeated his question as
he shoved the phone back into the man’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man pointed in the general direction. The man smiled as
placed the lid back over the glass jar and pocketed his phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man found the kids who till moments ago were engrossed in a
game of street cricket helping him with directions as they ran and cleared the
path for him. One of the kids ran into the house and called out to his mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Amma! Amma! Some white
fellow is looking for appa!</i>’ The boy yelled as he tugged at his mother’s
nighty. The woman annoyed at this misplaced excitement slapped the kid to
settle down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man bent down and entered the low doorway. He saw the kid
smiling and hiding behind his mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna?’ The man questioned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Eh! Who are you? Get out!</i>’
the woman admonished the man for having entered her sanctum Sanctorum. The man
ignored the woman’s hysterical shrieks and looked around the small confined
space. His eyes found what he was looking for. A cheap family portrait taken
right after the kid was born in a studio framed in a garish frame surrounded by
stickers of Mickey and Minnie mouse. There staring at him was the smiling face
of Prasanna. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Get out before I call my
husband!</i>’ the woman shrieked as she searched around for things which she
could use for defense and attack this intruder. She found a steel ladle in the
kitchen. The man picked up the family photo and studied it with intent. The
years had not been kind to Prasanna. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The wife came charging at him, waving the ladle threateningly.
The man turned and slapped the woman hard, cutting the inside of her cheek
against her teeth. The boy hid himself behind the wall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Your husband?’ The man pointed at the family portrait. The
woman nodded as tears rolled down her eyes, wiping the blood from the corner of
her mouth. A huge crowd stood outside the small one bedroom kitchen set up,
witnessing everything that transpired. Nobody stepped forward or exercised
their vocal chords.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Your husband… Where is he?’ The man questioned, with
appropriate hand gestures for the woman to understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>I don’t know! I haven’t
seen him for the last two days</i>’ the woman wailed, ‘<i>What has that demon brought upon me now?</i>’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The man looked around the room, his eyes
rested on a pencil and a notebook. He penciled in his number and thrust it
towards the woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Your husband. Call me! Urgent. Understand?’ The man spoke as he
saw the woman study his handwriting. He ventured into the kitchen, rumbled
around till he found a pair of scissors. He caught hold of the woman’s hair
from behind and turned her head around so that she could see his green flaming
eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Do you understand?’ He questioned again as he snipped the
scissors in the air. The woman nodded as she wet her nighty, a puddle of piss
streaming towards the doorway. He let go of her hair and she dropped on the
floor in shame and despair. He pocketed the happy family portrait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The crowd parted the way Moses parted the red sea, as he stepped
out of the house and made his way back to the car. Nobody wanted to mess with
an insane white man. Dealing with their own kind was more than enough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-67561932558823788292015-06-15T15:14:00.001+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.391+05:30Chapter 5 - The Man With No Name<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man
swiped the keycard through the electronic slot and heard the whirring of the
lock opening up. He stepped inside and slid the keycard in the slot. The room
lit up. He saw the aluminum case resting on the bed. He opened the wardrobe and
saw the line of tailored suits, shirts still in their plastic covers with the
tag still hanging off them. He pulled open the drawers and smiled as he ran his
fingers over the rolled ties and boxes of cufflinks. He kicked off his shoes,
removed his socks, stripped and entered the bathroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> As the hot water sprayed from the shower,
he watched the blood run down his body and swirl around the drain. He lifted
his head to feel the hot water fall on his face. The tears got swept away with
the hot water as his fingers circled his chest where the chain usually lay on
his neck. The place he had earmarked to tattoo the tombstone inscriptions of
his loved ones the day he retired. He turned the knobs, pulled the towels off
the shelf and dried himself. He walked barefoot to the bed where the aluminum
case rested. The case was protected with a three digit number lock. He turned
the dials and clicked open the case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He surveyed the contents, a capped syringe with Ricin, flashlight,
dissembled Berretta model 70 with .22 caliber long range bullets - the model
known around the world as the terminator used by the Mossad, with a spare
magazine and a digital camera with encrypted software for the man to send over
evidence of a job done to his superiors. The man quickly and efficiently assembled
the handgun and loaded the magazine. Having laid all the instruments of death
he would need in the next twenty minutes, he walked over to the wardrobe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Seven minutes later, he walked stealthy across the carpeted
corridor, as he screwed in the silencer over the muzzle of his Berretta. He
stood by the side of room 614 and knocked gently, just as room service would. In
his right hand he held the berretta and in his left he held the card key to the
room. He heard the muffled sounds of footsteps approaching the door. He could
feel the partial weight of a body leaning against the door to peer through the
peephole. This was the moment the man was waiting for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Two swift pulls of his index finger on the trigger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He quickly swiped the key card and pushed against the dead
weight behind the door. He hurriedly surveyed the room, the bathroom, the
balcony and the wardrobe. He found the laptop resting on the study table. He
flipped over the laptop, pulled a Philips screwdriver from inside his jacket
pocket and swiftly removed the hard disk from the laptop’s innards. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He clicked the required pictures on the digital camera, logged
on the hotel Wi-Fi and sent them half across the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He closed the door behind him and hung the ‘Do Not Disturb
Sign’. Intel suggested that his body wouldn’t be found till Thursday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man put the safety on the gun, tucked it in his shoulder
holster and entered the elevator. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He asked for the Hotel Concierge and instructed him where the
laptop hard disk needed to be delivered. He then collected the keys and the
valet ticket for his ride from the reception desk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He sighed and chuckled to himself as the valet bought the car to
gate. It was a dinky little car colored bright neon pink, which the locals
called as ‘Tata Nano’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-62468756691914056632015-06-12T11:18:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.180+05:30Man with no name - Chapter 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><b><u><a href="http://whabook.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-man-with-no-name-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">CLICK HERE TO FROM READ CHAPTER 1</a></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><b><u>*4*</u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> The man hailed an auto and directed him to
take him to Taj Windsor. The naïve and ignorant auto driver motioned the man to
get in and turned the meter down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man paid the auto driver in full and walked through the
hotel gates. He walked over to the restaurant and ordered himself a steak with
extra sides of mash and veggies. He ordered for a coffee, black. He sipped on
his coffee leisurely. A tall man, dressed in a tailored suit and leather
patented shoes smiled at him as he made his way to his table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>Where have you been? You
look like shit!</i>’ The tall man spoke in Hebrew, and addressed the man like
friend who knew him since eternity. The man smiled, but the smile never reached
his eyes. Instinctively the man reached to feel the chain around his neck and
felt nothing but his skin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The Arab is in room 614’ The tall man confided in hushed tone
as he surveyed the half empty restaurant. The man nodded ever so slightly. ‘The
minister has given the go ahead. It has to be discreet.’ The man nodded again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I need new clothes, shoes and my rabbit’ The man spoke. The
tone of the request suggested it was more of a demand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Everything you need is there in room 647’. The tall man smiled
for appearances as he slid the room key to the man across the table. The man
motioned to the server for check, suggesting that he was done with his meal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘And I need a set of wheels’ The man again made his request
sound like a demand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The flyaway is sorted.’ The tall man replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I will make my own way back home. I have some personal business
to take care of.’ The man explained as he pushed his chair back and stood up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I will leave the keys at the front desk’ The tall man offered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The server arrived with the bill, which the tall man signed for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-79582093138003416712015-06-11T13:46:00.001+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.529+05:30The Man With No Name - Chapter 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://whabook.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-man-with-no-name-chapter-1.html" target="_blank">READ CHAPTER 1 HERE</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://whabook.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-man-with-no-name-chapter-2.html" target="_blank">READ CHAPTER 2 HERE</a></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New;"><b><u>*3*</u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The moment the firang <i>savari</i>
stepped off the auto, the driver vroomed away to safety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man pulled the last cigarette from the pack before crumpling
it and kicking it to the side. The sight of a Caucasian male in this part of
town was a rare one. Street urchins surrounded him begging him for food and
money, laughing and giggling all at the same time. Their empty curled fingers
pawed at him, appealing him to reach into his pocket with all them dollars. Few
of the kids even had some change clinking in their hands, giving him a
subliminal message. He looked at them, smiled before snatching the change from
them and kicked them away. The kids ran away screaming murder as he pocketed
the change, twelve rupees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man made his way to the Shri Hari Lodge’s reception, manned
by an octogenarian with betel stained teeth and glasses perched on his nose
fashioned out of 1980s’ coke bottles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Aleem?’ he inquired pointing to the register on the table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘200 rupees for an hour. No AC. No hot water. No credit card.
Only cash’ The old man recited the memorized spiel in chaste English as he
turned his head to search for a room with a key hanging on the board on the
wall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The old man searched for the appropriate key to hand over in
exchange for money. Just then, a burly looking dark man entered the lodge
through the main gate, followed by the coterie of kids. One of the kids tugged
at the big man’s tight shirt and pointed at the man who had dared raise a hand
on them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man turned around to see what he imagined was a blinged out
water buffalo with a thick gold chain, earrings, long hair dyed a cringe
inducing blonde color with side burns thick as hotel mattresses. The old man
stopped his search and looked curiously over the Foreigner’s shoulder at the
big dark bundle of muscles dressed in gold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘<i>What happened Jasper</i>?’
The old man inquired in Kannada as he watched the big man motioned to the kids
to disappear. Jasper ignored the big man’s question and brought his tree trunk
sized hand on the white man’s shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Before the big man who resembled a gangsta water buffalo named
Jasper could begin his interrogation of what happened, the man reached out for
the earring dangling from the man’s ear and pulled <i>hard</i>. Skin tore. Earring came away. Pain dictated Jasper’s next
move as he let go of the man and clutched his bleeding ear. The Firang turned
around to pick up a paper weight placed atop the register and smashed it hard
against Jasper’s head. For added measure, the man kicked Jasper straight
between his legs. The big blonde colored water buffalo crumbled like
papier-mâché. The man turned his attention to the old man and repeated his
question, as he carefully placed the paper weight back to where he picked it up
from. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Aleem?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Third floor, room number 324’ The old man mumbled, his stare
transfixed on the bleeding Jasper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">#<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man read the room numbers partially painted over atop the
doorway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">#320… #321… #322… #323…</span></i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">#324!</span></i><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man leaned against the door to listen in. A door on the
opposite end of the long corridor opened, a middle aged man exited and checked
his zipper. He sheepishly smiled at the Firang and gave him a thumbs up sign. The
Firang allowed himself a smile and a nod. He waited for his well wisher to head
towards the stair before placing his ears on the door. He could make out noises
emanating from the television and nothing else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He knocked on the door with his ears firmly planted on the door.
No response. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He stepped back and studied the door. His body pressed hard
against the door, he felt the tension on the top and the middle. The door had
been double latched. He raised his foot and kicked it just hard enough to make
a booming noise. He heard the angry murmurs of a woman and the jangling jiggles
of her bangles. He heard the rustle of the human body getting off the bed and
the groan of disturbed sleep. He heard the top latch being slid down away, and
the latch in the middle being pulled to side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He stepped back, and this time kicked with all his might. The
door caught the wrist of the woman standing behind as it swung back with force.
She stood still, her face a curious mixture of surprise and pain. His palm
caught her cheeks, pushing her to the side. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The room looked like a poster of debauchery, empty bottles of
booze, half smoked reefers, empty cigarette packs, half eaten foils of kebabs
and biryani. The Firang saw his phone laying atop the television set. He turned
around to see the man who had stuck him from behind last night, lying on the
bed naked and spent. The ruckus had woken him up from his stoned blissful
sleep. He stumbled around the room for cover yelling incomprehensibly in his
native tongue. The man took a deep breath as he walked over the television set
and picked up his phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘My chain’ The man spoke as he looked at Aleem’s blood red eyes
encased in puffy flesh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aleem scrambled and pushed himself against the wall, hoping that
the wall open itself up magically, giving him room to run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man didn’t understand what the naked guy said. So he mimed,
‘Chain’, ‘My chain, where is it?’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘No! No!’ is all Aleem could say. The man opened the bathroom
door and saw Oriental styled toilet, with a flimsy metal chain hanging off the
flush. He eyes caught sight of a wrench placed on top of the flush. He entered
the bathroom and jumped up to grab the wrench. Seeing this, Aleem found the
opportune moment he had been praying for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aleem scrambled over the bed and headed for the door. The man
turned around, sensing that his prey was getting away from him, threw the
wrench at it. The wrench caught Aleem right in the middle of his back. Aleem
screamed in pain as he collapsed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man walked over to Aleem, picking up the wrench and stood
over the winching and moaning figure of Aleem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Where is my chain?’ The man spoke clearly and softly, just loud
enough to put the fear of god in Aleem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘No!’ Aleem cried as he violently shook his head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man stood over the crouched Aleem, his knee pressing on
Aleem’s naked hairy chest, ‘My chain’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aleem continued to cry and plead for mercy in his native tongue.
The man studied the wrench, rolling his thumb across the wheel opening the
wrench’s jaws. He placed his left hand over Aleem’s knee, straightening his
leg. His knee still pressing hard against Aleem’s chest. He raised the wrench
and brought it with all his might on his shin. Aleem screamed in pain. The man
let go of Aleem’s knee and repeated his statement posed as a question, ‘My
chain’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Aleem cried and spoke hurriedly in his native tongue as clutched
his splinted shin in pain. The only thing the man caught was the name ‘Prasanna’.
The man pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to Aleem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna. Phone number. Address’ He directed Aleem with his
eyes, chin and the wrench held menacingly in his hand. Aleem hurriedly typed in
everything he knew. The man smiled as he pulled the phone away from his hand
and stood up. He walked over to the table with the weed and the half empty pack
of cigarettes. He lit a cigarette, walked over to where Aleem lay splayed on
the floor and kicked him repeatedly between his ribs before he walked out of
the room and closed the door behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As the man made his way down, he found a big mob assembled. He saw
Jasper signaling a police constable at him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Oi! <i>What the fuck do you
think you are doing?</i>’ The constable queried authoritatively in the native
tongue. The man smiled as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked
it at the constable before walking past him, pushing his way through the
assembled crowd. The constable caught hold of the man’s shirt. The man turned
around and stared at the clenched fist and into the constable’s eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I just want my chain back’ the man stated as he caught hold of
the constable’s wrist and applied pressure. The constable felt shooting pain,
his fingers let go of the man’s t-shirt. The man pulled the constable close to
him, studied his watch before giving him a full body search. The man pulled out
the constable’s wallet, pulled the money out of it and flung the empty wallet
on Jasper who still sat on the floor clutching his bleeding head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-19009421043711034642015-06-10T13:46:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:04:29.892+05:30The Man with No Name - Chapter 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><a href="http://whabook.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-man-with-no-name-chapter-1.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Read Chapter 1 Here</span></a></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*2*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The morning office rush looked at the man with judgmental eyes.
The man stretched his back, the white t-shirt now blotted with splotches of
dried blood cracked away from his back. He gingerly touched the back of his
head and felt the matted hair clumped together. He looked around and found his
empty wallet flung to the side of the road. He looked down at his feet and
realized that somebody had stolen his shoes and socks. He bent down to pick the
wallet up and felt pain shooting down the side of his shoulders and back. He
dusted the wallet and put it back into his back pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">A generous middle aged commuter, overcome with a surge of
humanity stopped his bike and inquired if he could give the man a lift.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Fuck off!’ the man whinged. The commuter shook his head and
took off while hurling abuses at the man and his presumed country of origin.
The man picked up an old newspaper by the roadside, tore it up before folding
it and putting it inside his wallet. He walked till he reached the ring road.
He knew his way from here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The early bird on his way to office stepped out of the ATM only
to find himself walking straight into a firang. He apologized and trashed the
ATM receipt. The Firang apologized as well and offered a handshake. The early
bird didn't mean to be rude. The firang stood in front of the solitary cash
dispensing machine as he watched the man he had just bumped into get on a bike
and merge with the traffic. He pulled out a wallet, it wasn’t his. He pulled
the driver’s license, the face on it was the same one as the man he had bumped
into. Instead of a wallet stuffed with sheaf of torn newspaper, he now had
three hundred odd rupees, a debit card and two credit cards. He folded the
money and pushed it down his front pocket. He pulled out crumpled receipts from
the trash can next to the ATM machine and placed them inside his new wallet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He walked across the road to the tea shop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Classic milds’ he pointed at the pack of cigarettes lined
neatly against the shelf with his chin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He lit up the cigarette and pulled hard on it. He eyes read the
minute and the hour from the shopkeeper's wrist. Half past nine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He walked as he puffed on the cigarette. There was one more ATM
down the road. Wallets were exchanged and this time it yielded a cool five
grand. He smiled as he thumbed the notes. Nobody suspects a foreigner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He made his way to the mall which had just opened its gate. The
security at the gate looked on suspiciously at this barefooted firang. He
walked through the gates, spread his hands as security waved the metal detector
wand around him. He climbed on the escalator and headed straight into the
restroom. He washed his face, combed his hair with his fingers and tucked in
his t-shirt. He walked into Lifestyle, quickly found the aisle with t-shirts
and shelves lined with jeans. He left his old clothes in the changing room and
walked out of the store. The employees were still getting their bearing around
in the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He walked into McDonalds and placed an order for Hot cakes,
sausage egg muffin and a black coffee. He paid cash. Having done with his meal,
he lit up a cigarette. One of the employees came running in as the smoke
swirled up in the air from his nostrils.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘No smoking sir!’ The employee pleaded. The man raised his
eyebrows, his lips enveloped around the cigarette butt as he pulled hard. The
employee stared as the paper burnt and the man’s chest swelled. The man got up
from his chair and pouted smoke in the poor underpaid employees’ face. He made
his way to the Adidas store, pulled a pair of size 11’s from the rack, a roll
of new black socks and handed the credit card to the store attendant. The name
on the card read, ‘Jaganathan Swami’. The store attendant didn’t notice, but
the cashier did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Sir, what is your name?’ The cashier inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What does it say on the card?’ The man replied as he watched
the female store attendant walk in through the door. The girl was late, but
when she saw the firang standing next to the cash counter, her flustered face
blushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The cashier didn’t care. The sale was approved. That’s all that
mattered. The man scribbled a signature on the merchant copy, picked up the
credit card and walked out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">He called out to an auto standing in the auto stand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shalimar’ The man gave the address.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘300/-’ The auto driver replied. Firangs always meant easy
money. The man nodded and got in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The auto weaved in and out of traffic. The auto driver
occasionally kept looking into the rear view mirror. The firang had spread his
legs, with one foot right on the driver’s seat. The driver didn’t say anything.
Not when he was getting 300/- for a fare which otherwise would have earned him
just 80/-.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Saar, Shalimar’ The driver stuck his head out of the auto and
pointed the hotel where the man and the girl had stumbled out of last night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man got of the auto and headed to where autos and radio
taxis stood waiting for patrons to step out of the hotel corridor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Saar! Money?’ The auto driver called out from behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man turned around, smiled, pulled out the wad of money. He
pulled out a fifty rupee note and thrust into the driver’s shirt pocket and
good naturedly slapped him on his cheek twice. This didn’t bode well with the
driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Two fifty more’ the driver pulled out the fifty rupee note with
his left hand from his pocket and caught hold of the man’s left hand with his
right. The man raised his right hand and brought it hard on the auto driver’s
cheek. The driver’s head banged against the side of the auto. The man turned
around and started walking towards the auto stand. The auto drivers, some
standing and some sitting and chatting watched the whole thing. Few of them
walked towards the man as he approached them. The auto driver who had just been
slapped was nursing his reddened cheek and hurling abuses in the native tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘KA 93 B 2304’ The man calmly mentioned the number plate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What? What happened?’ An auto driver, fluent in English,
demanded to know as he pointed to the fellow angry auto driver behind the man.
The man turned his head and stared at the screaming auto driver. It was clear
that the auto driver was making threats about the man’s life and his family’s
well being. The man smiled and waved goodbye to him before turning his
attention to the auto driver who spoke English. The English speaking auto
driver was soon surrounded by fellow auto drivers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am searching for the auto driver who drives KA 93 B 2304’ The
man looked behind the crowd and saw the auto with the number plate he was
looking for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Why? What you want? Why you slap him?’ The driver demanded to
know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man pushed past the crowd and stood next to the auto which
had caught his attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Who is the driver of this auto?’ The man pulled out the pack of
cigarettes and tapped it on the back of his wrist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The English speaking driver was losing patience. He slapped the
pack of cigarettes from the man’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I am asking you. You…’ The driver demanded and the chorus of
angry irate auto drivers grew louder, bringing the attention of the hotel
security.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As the driver was mid sentence, the man closed his fingers in a
fist and punched him straight in the Adam’s apple. Seeing this act of violence,
the other auto drivers jumped on the man. The man caught the index finger of
the first one who jumped on him and twisted it sideways. The second one found a
finger lodged deep in his left eye. The third felt a sharp kick to his knees
causing him to buckle down and fall. The fourth and fifth auto drivers who
wanted a piece of action were left two broken ribs and an ear bitten off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man stepped to the side and picked up his pack of
cigarettes. In all the chaos, somebody had stepped on the pack, he tsk-tsk’ed.
He pulled out a flattened out cigarette from the pack and searched his pocket
for a light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Light?’ He signaled for a box of matches to the couple of auto
drivers who had held back, not wanting any trouble. One of the auto drivers
gingerly extended his hand with a lighter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Thanks!’ The man smiled as he lit his cigarette and pocketed
the lighter. He pointed to the auto, ‘Who drove this auto last night?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Prasanna’ One of them offered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Where can I find him?’ The man questioned as he squinted his
eyes to avoid the smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The drivers, who were still standing shook their heads,
murmuring to themselves as they looked at their comrades wincing and whining in
pain. Passerbys slowed their vehicles to take in the sight. The man was losing
patience. He stepped on the fellow with the broken knee and applied pressure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Where can I find him?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I don’t know… He was with Aleem’ the man cried out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘And where can I find Aleem?’ the man questioned as he lifted
his foot off the man’s knee and flicked the cigarette at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Shri Hari Lodge, Majestic’ One of the auto drivers reflexively
answered with fear. The man smiled as he walked and good humoredly slapped the
man on his back and got inside the auto. The auto drivers looked on at each
other, unsure of what to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Let’s go!’ The man urged as he slapped the side of the auto.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As the auto driver started his auto, he didn’t bother turning the
meter down. One of the other drivers hurriedly began to dial on his mobile
phone. The others rushed to the aid of their fallen comrades. The man stuck his
head out of the auto and looked at the man hurriedly speaking into the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Tell him I want my chain back!’ The man yelled as the auto
driver merged into the traffic.<b><u><o:p></o:p></u></b></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-36426803691832691402015-06-09T19:58:00.002+05:302020-04-14T07:04:30.052+05:30The Man With No Name - Chapter 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">*1*<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘It was fun! Ladies night at Shalimar is always fun’ The girl
gushed as she swept the hair away from her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You are <i>cute</i>… I like
you’ her speech slurred with girly giggles as she leaned forward with pouted
lips and closed eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You are drunk!’ The man pushed her to the side, careful enough to
not push her out of the moving autorickshaw. The autorickshaw driver looked in
the mirror over hanging over his forehead and grinned lecherously at the girl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Madam fullu tight-ah?’ The driver chuckled as he mustered all
the English he knew into a comprehensible sentence. It was more a statement
than a question. The man ignored the driver and lit up a cigarette. He should
have left the girl alone. He should have gone back to the hotel. But the girl
was drunk, and people had seen him with her. He had considered his options.
Leaving her behind would ensure that people would remember the two of them long
enough to discuss them the next day over brunch. Taking her along meant that
people would remember the girl and not him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The auto driver continued alternating his gaze between the dimly
lit roads and the rearview mirror. With the wind blowing through the side of
the auto, the driver could see the side of the girl’s exposed breast as she
leaned against the foreigner’s shoulder. She was wearing one of those plastic
bras, the kinds which women wore under skimpy clothes when they visited discos.
The man was a foreigner, cropped hair along the sides, with the first traces of
stubble showing on his chin. All foreigners looked the same to him. They all
wanted the same things, women, booze and weed. They were all the same, paying
triple the amount of fare and never bargaining. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Turn left! Turn left!’ The girl directed, suddenly waking up
from her alcohol induced haze. The auto driver followed as instructed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Stop! Stop!’ The girl tapped the driver’s shoulder. The auto
stopped in front of a big gated community. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You want to come in?’ The girl invited the man, a leery smutty
smile pasted across her face as she stumbled out of the auto as she pulled her
skirt down. The watchman got off his chair and smiled as he watched the girl
stumble and saunter out of the auto. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The man ignored the girl and tapped the auto driver to move. The
driver promptly followed the man’s directions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Ladies, drinking firstuh then wanting sexuh. Bad no?’ The auto
driver commented. The man closed his eyes and leaned his head back, ignoring
the social commentary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Saar?’ The driver spoke in hushed tones. The auto had stopped
in the middle of nowhere. The man opened his eyes and looked around, it was no
place that the man recognized. The auto driver held a pen knife in his hands
and a humble smile on his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Give money!’ The driver requested. The man raised his left ass
cheek off the seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Slow… Knife sharpuh’ The driver informed. The man pulled out
his wallet and handed it to the driver. The driver pulled open the sleeves of
the wallet and pulled out the cash and the cards. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Pin numberuh?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘4523’ The man replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Phone? Watch? Chain?’ The driver motioned with the pen knife. The
man handed over the phone and removed his watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Now drop me home’ the man calmly replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘The chain!’ The driver demanded, his voice rising. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘No!’ The man responded, his eyebrows converged over his green
eyes underlining the monosyllable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Out!’ the driver directed with the knife. The man followed.
Right before the driver drove off, he gave a loud shrill whistle. As the man
mentally noted down the number plate, he heard rustling noises from behind him
and felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. The man fell down as a heap. He
felt the chain from around his neck being yanked hard. The man tried opening
his eyes, clouded by tears of pain, he saw another man hurriedly get inside the
auto before it sped away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-80070480989005627122013-08-21T12:39:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:04:52.102+05:30An.Al - The Origins (An Excerpt from my new book)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><i><u><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Excerpt
from An.Al – The Origins<o:p></o:p></span></span></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her footsteps echoed like the steady drum beat of
a marching band. She pulled her jacket’s hood over her head and drew its lapels
closer together—it was a size too small for her, its colour now faded and indistinguishable.
Her hands dug deeper into the jacket’s pockets, and finding a cigarette and a
box of lights, she stopped for a moment to light it up. She pulled hard on it.
Long, deep, and hard. <i>What should the
next move be?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;">Think.</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The dogs turned around. Their playful conjugation
interrupted. Angry. Alert. The air held an alien smell. They sniffed: cigarette
smoke and her. They barked as a warning to this creature on two legs: <i>don’t trespass, don’t intrude, don’t
interfere</i>. They circled and growled. Their eyes glowed with anger and intent.
The hair on their backs bristled—a war-hungry Roman legion ready to fight the
rebellious Gaul.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">She didn’t feel like playing, not on that night,
not when there were bigger and more important things playing on her mind. She
wanted peace, quiet, and a plan. But the stupid mongrels were intent on
fighting her for it and she was not one to back away from a fight. Not with
Peter egging her on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">She saw him, the captain and commander of the
pack, the leader of the feral rebels. Skin spotted like a Swiss cow, ears
pinned back, sharp teeth dripping with drool and slobbering over the street,
white and black hair bristling on his back like white noise, eyes gleaming a
fluorescent green and yellow in the moonlight. When she saw that look on the
dog’s face, she knew he would make for an excellent playmate. She didn’t care
about the others. The manic wildness in the dog’s eyes reflected hers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘<i>Always know
where the attack is going to come from</i>,’ she heard Peter’s voice whispering
into her ears.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘<i>Never take
your eyes away from the prey</i>,’ he said, as she stepped sideways onto the
pavement and started walking backward towards an abandoned building, all the
while maintaining eye contact with her new Playmate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> ‘<i>Be aware of your surroundings, your
environment. Use it to your advantage to isolate the prey</i>,’ Peter
instructed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">When she bumped against the door of the building,
she found it unlocked. The barking reached a new crescendo and the dogs looked
more menacing now. Did they mistake her retreat for fear? Stupid dogs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The dogs could sense their kill slipping away and
the alpha dog, realizing the same, leapt for her throat. She pushed against the
door, opening it just wide enough for her and her-plus-one to enter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">With the refined skill of a ballet dancer pulling
off a simple but highly technical plié, she took a step back, grabbed the alpha
dog by his neck, turned around, and kicked the door shut as she fell down under
the weight of the massive dog. The door jammed shut, scratching against the
floor as it closed behind the two of them.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The odds were evened out now. Her lips curled up
in a smirk and she grunted, her face contorting with effort as she rolled over
on top of the dog, stuffing his mouth with his own leg. The howling, barking,
and the scratching continued outside the closed door—background music to her
party.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> ‘<i>You really . . . really shouldn’t have</i>,’
she reprimanded the dog as she caught her breath. She smiled gleefully as she
attempted to grab the dog’s rear feet while ensuring that the foot already in
its mouth didn’t come loose. Moonlight streaked through the broken and
blacked-out windows of the building. The dog whined as it saw her baby-brown
eyes turn black with murderous delight. Her smirk grew wider. With the legs
firmly in her hold, she used her free hand to dive into her back pocket and
fetched her trusted switchblade. In five swift and swish moves, like a trained
game-meat butcher, she deftly cut away at the tendons joining the dog’s legs to
his torso and distending his ball sac, turning the big, ferocious alpha dog
into a big, cuddly, bleeding soft toy. She stood up, dusted herself, and wiped
her face with her blood-speckled hands, smearing crimson onto her face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">As the dog lay there, withering and moaning in
pain, she dropped her rucksack and watched the pale moonlight glisten against
the dark, oily blood of the dog. She squatted next to the dog, marvelling at
the spurts of blood the arteries threw.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘Awww . . . are you in pain doggie?’ she asked,
concern underlining every single syllable uttered in her innocent, child-like
voice. The dog continued to moan, its body twitching in mortal convulsions of
pain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘STOP MOANING YOU STUPID DOGGIE . . .’ she yelled,
‘ANSWER ME!’ Her shouts were muffled by the punches she threw on the dog’s
furrowed face. When the fury of her punches finally stopped, so did the dog’s
twitching—its skull broken in seven different places and its brain served as mashed
potatoes, on the side, on the hard concrete floor plate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘Doggie? Doggie?’ she called out to the dog,
softly . . . like a scared little girl looking for her beloved doll to comfort
and reassure herself that the bogeyman won’t harm her. When the dog didn’t answer,
she curled up on the floor and slept.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">You can order An.Al - The Origins now from <a href="http://www.flipkart.com/an-al-origins/p/itmdmzzypzp8gpkg?pid=9788172344702&otracker=from-search&srno=t_1&query=athul+demarco&ref=d30a59dc-f4e1-4be1-8a6b-8a2f4ebd8149">Flipkart</a> and <a href="http://www.uread.com/book/analthe-origins-athul-demarco/9788172344702">Uread (for overseas shipping)</a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-72516871305580195222013-03-14T20:02:00.003+05:302020-04-14T07:05:07.888+05:30On your marks. Get. Set. BANG!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 150%;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><u><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Run... Kill him and run. Just run. But kill him first</span></u></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><u>.- Athul DeMarco</u></span></i></b><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The room was dressed in dark,
even though the sun outside was making the tar melt and dance to its
unflinching tune. Black plastic around the VHS tapes and the shiny plates of
CDs accessorized the darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘<i>Please!</i>’ the man pleaded, clutching his gut, the green shirt
changing its colour to black under his tightened palm. Blood oozed from his
broken nose, merrily mixing with the spit which bubbled and frothed from his
lips. His plea was muted and lost under the loud banshee screams of the naked
woman lying on the bed cowering and hiding her modesty under a blanket. Modesty
which was until a few minutes back was being recorded under the expert direction
of the man pleading for his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The man, looked at the young
boy, all of fifteen years of age, dressed in white shirt and navy blue
trousers, chappals, two sizes too small for his feet, the bloody kitchen knife
firmly clutched in his left hand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘<i>You are going to kill your own father madarchod!</i>’ The man screamed
in pain as he willed his body to slither away from where the boy was standing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘I told you not to do this’ The
boy calmly replied as he flung cassettes and CDs on the wall, sending
splintered and shattered pieces of plastic flying across the room. The woman
continued screaming and sobbing in the background.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Having destroyed all the
cassettes and CDs which caught his attention, he walked over to the screaming
woman and yanked the floral printed blanket off her naked body. She held her
hands up reflexively but the boy, calm as he was swiftly swished the razor
sharp blade he held in his hand. The woman screamed louder as the knife tore
open her skin, exposing the white muscle on her forearms. The boy caught the
woman’s hair, the woman screamed, begging the boy to spare her. The father,
screamed abuses at the boy in the background. Without a forewarning, the boy
ran the knife along the young girl’s neck. Blood gushed like water from the
tail of a water lorry. The man stopped screaming. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The boy stepped over his
father, slapping his father and forcing him to look into his blood splattered
face. The young boy could see the fear in his father’s eyes. The boy cleared
his throat and spat on his father’s face before plunging the knife in his
father’s heart. He repeated the action twelve more times before he was
satisfied. The only sign of emotion the boy showed was the slight curl of his
lips. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The boy, removed the gold watch
his father was wearing before standing up over the dead body. He surveyed the
room, as he removed his white school shirt and vest which were now dripping
red. He wiped the blood off his face, chest and fingers before flinging over
his dead father’s body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The boy looked at the time,
quarter to one, as he slipped the wrist watch on his hand. He walked over to
the kitchen, picked up the canister of kerosene and liberally sprinkled it
around his house. He pulled out a newly washed white shirt off the hanger.
Looked into the mirror and combed his hair into place. He looked around for his
running shoes and slipped them over his sockless feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He stood up from the stool and
surveyed the room once again. Satis</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;">fied, he pulled out a box of matches from
his trouser pocket and stuck it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He hurried as the bus driver
pushed the gear and jumped aboard the running bus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘Saale! You want to die or
what?’ The conductor yelled at the boy, who cheekily smiled back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘National Games Village’ the
boy extended his hand with the five rupee coin as he climbed inside the bus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Thick black smoke rose into the
sky, trying to challenge the sun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;">#</span></u></b><b><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></u></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘I thought you wouldn’t make it
on time’ Salman yelled as he saw his best friend get off the running bus. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘Quick, the coach has been
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘<i>Armaan!</i>’ The boys heard their coach thunder, ‘Get warmed up!’ he
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘Yes sir!’ Armaan promptly
replied as he took off his shirt and trousers, revealing his bare chest and white
running shorts. Salman pulled out the shiny violet jersey from Armaan’s school bag.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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beginning of the starting line. He stretched his legs, his chest still heavy
from the fast sprint he had done from the bus to the stadium. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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oscillated his weight, stretching his inner thighs. He looked around to gauge
his competition. Strong, lithe bodies glistened with sweat under the punishing
sun. New shiny studs stitched to perfection around their feet. He looked at his
own feet. White canvas shoes the inner side of the sole worn out from all the
abuse the shoe endured. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘Gentlemen...’ A man dressed in
a white t-shirt, brown trousers, black whistle hanging between his bulbous
breasts walked in front of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘Wait for my call. Two false
starts will mean instant disqualification’ The man instructed as he walked over
the sideline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘On your marks’ the man yelled
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">‘<i>Get. Set</i>’ The man raised his hand with the gun held aloft over his
head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Armaan lifted himself off the
ground and balanced himself on his toes and finger tips. His feet dug in hard,
trying to find the grip he wanted on the red coloured synthetic turf. He looked
up and saw the red ribbon sitting taut on the horizon. His mind flashed images
from a life he had put an end to in the morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>BANG!</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The gunshot echoed as white
smoke bellowed out of the gun barrel. </span><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-26026769132387593882013-01-23T11:21:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:05:51.816+05:30Lucy and her three best friends and the big and ugly lizard<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Once
upon a time, not too long ago, there was a young girl named Lucy. Now Lucy had
really long black hair, which she used to oil every Sunday and then take bath
in hot water. She used to love her long black hair. She used to put clips and
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</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">One
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in a sing song manner. Dressed in sky blue skirt, her hair tied in a ponytail,
black shoes with shiny silver buckles. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘A
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for cat. D for Dog…’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As
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happy little steps, she saw something sparkle on the side of the road, where
the grass grew as high as her knees. She stopped skipping and jumping. It
shined again, bright as the sun in the afternoon when she played hopscotch
during lunch break. Excitedly she went closer to see what was shining behind
the grass which grew as tall as her knees. And there it was, the shiniest,
brightest, and the most colorful hairclip she had ever laid her eyes on. As she
stuck her hand out and picked up the shiny, bright and colorful hairclip, she
heard a small girl’s voice. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Heyllo!
My name is Alice. You have pretty hair’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Thank
you. I oil it every Sunday and then take bath in hot water. My name is Lucy’
she replied smiling as she saw the hairclip talk to her. The hairclip looked
like it was smiling back at her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Will
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and you can style it anyway you want. Please?’ Alice, the brightest, shiniest
and the most colorful hairclip Lucy had ever seen asked her. She even said
please, and Lucy remembered her mother telling her that when somebody requests
you something and say Please then you should try and help them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yes!
That will be lovely. You and me shall be the bestest of all friends and I shall
wear you in my hair every day. I ask my mommy to put you in my hair. Till then,
I will hold you in my hands’ And so, Lucy smiled even a bigger smile and
continued skipping and jumping and reciting the alphabets along with her new
best friend Alice. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘A
for Apple. B for Bat. C for Cat… D for… D for… Dog… D for Dog.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As
the two new best friends skipped, jumped, walked and sang their way home, Lucy
noticed that a puppy had begun to follow her. The puppy was copying everything
Lucy was doing. The puppy jumped when Lucy jumped. The puppy skipped when Lucy
skipped. The puppy barked when Lucy sang her alphabets. Lucy sat down on the
grass and the dog sat down too. Lucy rolled in the grass, the dog rolled in the
grass too. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘He
looks so cute’ Alice spoke as she rolled in the grass along with Lucy. The
shiniest, brightest and the most colorful hairclip was still firmly clutched in
Lucy’s palm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘What
is your name doggy?’ Lucy asked as she picked up the puppy and the puppy
tickled her face with his soft, pink tongue. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!
My name is Zero. Woof!’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Well!
You are lovely! Will you be our friend?’ Lucy asked Zero the puppy who copied
everything Lucy did. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!
Yes! Woof!’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘My
name is Lucy and she is Alice’ Lucy said as she showed Zero, the puppy who
copied everything Lucy did, the brightest, shiniest and the most colorful
hairclip either one of them had ever seen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Hello!’
Alice smiled before she started grimacing and yelling ‘YUCK! EWWW!’ as Zero,
the puppy who copied everything Lucy did, licked and tickled Alice with his
soft and pink tongue. Watching Alice and Zero play together, Lucy giggled
loudly. Hearing Lucy laugh out loud, Alice and Zero started laughing as well. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">They
laughed and rolled and jumped and skipped and sang the alphabets.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘A
for Apple. B for Bat. C for Cat. D for Dog. E for… E for… E for Elephant’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Lucy,
the girl with the lovely long black hair, Alice, the brightest, shiniest and
the most colorful hairclip, and Zero, the puppy who copied everything Lucy did,
rolled, played and laughed in the grass which was as tall as Lucy’s knees. Dark
clouds covered the sky, curious to find out from where all the singing, playing
and laughing sounds were coming in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Who
is making all that noise?’ The dark cloud thundered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘We
are not making noise. We were just playing.’ Alice spoke.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!
Yes! We were just playing. Woof!’ Zero barked back at the dark clouds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘My
name is Lucy. This is Alice and this is Zero. What is your name? Do you also want
to play with us?’ Lucy spoke as she looked up at the sky covered with the giant
dark cloud. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘My
name is Eddie, the dark cloud. Nobody plays with me because I am dark and not
white like the other clouds’ Eddie, the dark cloud thundered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You
can play with us. We were just singing, jumping, laughing and playing’ Lucy
replied as she smiled at Eddie, the dark cloud with whom the white clouds
didn’t play with. Eddie smiled in return, flashing his teeth and suddenly
lightening flashed across the sky.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!
What was that?’ Zero, the puppy who copied everything Lucy did, whimpered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Sorry!
That is what happens when I smile’ Eddie apologized.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘That
is so cool! Can you smile again?’ Alice screamed with excitement.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I
guess’ Eddie replied as he smiled sheepishly and flashed his teeth shyly and a
tiny lightening shined through the sky. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Together
the four new best friends walked towards Lucy’s home, skipping, laughing, and
singing the alphabets.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘A
for Apple. B for Bat. C for Cat. D for Dog. E for… E for… E for elephant. F for
Four. G for… G for…’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Just
then the four new best friends saw a big and ugly lizard. The big and ugly lizard
opened his mouth and flicked his huge tongue to catch a butterfly which was as
colorful as Alice and ate it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Oh
no!’ Alice screamed. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!
Woof!’ Zero barked at the lizard. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The
big and ugly lizard looked at the four new best friends and smiled menacingly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Well,
well, well… Look who we have here… Lucy, the girl with the big black hair,
Alice, the shiniest, brightest and the most colorful hairclip, Zero, the puppy
who copies everything Lucy does and Eddie, the dark cloud with whom the white
clouds don’t play with. You all will make for a nice delicious dinner tonight.’
The big and ugly lizard smirked as he looked at the four new best friends. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Guys,
I am scared!’ Lucy whispered to her three best friends.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Don’t
worry Lucy. We are there with you. He can’t eat us.’ Eddie, the dark cloud,
thundered and lightening flashed across the sky as he smiled again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yeah!
He is right.’ Alice spoke as she smiled along with Eddie. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Woof!’
Zero, the puppy who copied everything Lucy did barked in agreement.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Buoyed
by her three best friends confidence, Lucy spoke, ‘I think I have a plan on how
to beat the big and ugly lizard’. Lucy then explained her plan to her three
best friends. The four new best friends smiled at each other as lightening
flashed across the sky again as Eddie flashed his white teeth again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘You
don’t have anywhere to go’ The big and ugly lizard threatened. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘NOW!
Lucy yelled. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Eddie,
the dark cloud with whom the white clouds refused to play with, grinned as he
showed all his white teeth causing a big lightening to streak across the sky.
Zero, the puppy who copied everything Lucy did, jumped in the air with Alice, the
brightest, shiniest and the most colorful hairclip, in his mouth and Alice
caught Eddie’s smile in her hairclip. Lucy took the lightening and threw it at
the big and ugly lizard. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The
big and ugly lizard saw the big lightening hurled towards him and started
running for his life. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘I
will see the four of you soon. This is not over’ the big and ugly lizard yelled
as he ran away scared. So scared that he left his tail behind. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The
four new best friends jumped in the air and high fived each other. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Just
then, Lucy, the girl with the big, black hair heard her mother call her name. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Lucy?
Where have you been?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mommy!
I want you to meet my new best friends. This is Alice, the shiniest, brightest
and the most hairclip. This is Zero, the puppy who copies everything I do. And
this is Eddie, the dark cloud with whom the white clouds refuse to play with.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Hello!’
Lucy’s mother greeted Lucy’s friends and Lucy’s new best friends greeted Lucy’s
mother in return.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Mommy!
Do you think they can stay with us? Please?’ Lucy asked her mother with a smile
as big her father’s mustache. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Only
if they help you finish your homework and sleep with you on time.’ Lucy’s
mother replied. Lucy had asked her mother nicely and she had said ‘Please’. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Bright","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">‘Yayyy!’
The four new best friends jumped in the air and high fived each other again. </span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-46520516659923897572012-05-06T18:29:00.001+05:302020-04-14T07:05:51.978+05:30Flight 3G 742<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-taSq6FfIgVikEg205-75jkZ7LMjzwdKWxAjLK3wICZPp7fQQAB93Wkodb80kxS_9oye8_cZZwJVrTeL0YGVy0O_Q7uLYyV4V86IWjUuYZR8ns1mHf4VV8tISI1LEhAUExSuUgNc058/s1600/aircraft-crash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-taSq6FfIgVikEg205-75jkZ7LMjzwdKWxAjLK3wICZPp7fQQAB93Wkodb80kxS_9oye8_cZZwJVrTeL0YGVy0O_Q7uLYyV4V86IWjUuYZR8ns1mHf4VV8tISI1LEhAUExSuUgNc058/s1600/aircraft-crash.jpg" /></a></div>
<span xmlns=""><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style; font-size: 12pt;">Plot Summary: Flight 3G 742 is bound to Raipur from Delhi. The plane crashes under unusual circumstances. 7 survive. An elephant poacher, a healthy French lesbian, a Bengali businessman, a small town man, a Malayali IT guy, an old man and a Punjabi south Delhi housewife. But people start dying. One of the seven is a cold blooded killer. </span></span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">* Prologue*</span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Flight 3G 742 is ready for departure</i>’,
the sweet mellifluous voice floated and bounced off the near empty airport
walls of the new terminal 3 of Indira Gandhi International airport. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
turned the corner of the page and closed the book he was reading, ‘Al.An: The
Origins’ and shoved it into his backpack, as he stared at the Punjabi family of
four rush towards Gate – 57 to stake claim at the head of the queue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Idiots!’
he thought, as he took out his boarding pass from his shirt pocket to double
check if this was really the flight he was supposed to board. He mentally noted
his seat number, 15C. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘No
bags for check-in, one hand bag. I would prefer an emergency aisle. Non –
reclining, if that is available please’, Mohit had requested the pretty
ticketing agent seated behind the counter in her royal blue jacket.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Certainly
sir, I am just checking.’ she had replied, as Mohit gazed at the name badge
pinned to her chest, it read Pooja Saniyal, as he took the airline hand bag tag
and put it on his backpack. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Non
– reclining?’ Pooja quizzed, surprised at the request. It wasn’t usual for a
passenger to request for a non – reclining seat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Yes!
I don’t like being disturbed about reclining my seat to the upfront position
while I am asleep’, Mohit replied smiling, as he watched Pooja punch some keys
on her keyboard and waited for his boarding pass to be printed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘One
hand bag, 15C, gate number 57. Straight and left.’ Neha replied as she handed over
the boarding pass. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Is
the flight on time?’ Mohit quizzed, as he took the boarding pass and smiled
again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Yes
sir!’ Pooja returned the smile, as she ushered the next person in line. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">While
heading towards security check, Mohit took a glance at his boarding pass and
checked for his seat and boarding gate number before pocketing it into his
shirt again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
surveyed his fellow passengers who had lined up behind the Punjabi family,
wondering who the lottery system of the airline ticketing system had assigned
to sit beside him on the flight. The family consisted of identical twin boys, probably
aged 7 or 8, who were busy playing tug – o – war with the mother’s hand bag.
Mohit deduced from the fake Louis Vuitton bag and the high heels that the wife
was in her mid-30s, liked to kitty party with her friends and probably liked to
have rough sex. The husband was a plaid straight jacketed businessman, possibly
taking the wife and the kids to his in-laws for the kid’s summer vacations,
which Mohit deducted from the white Nike’s he sported and the tailored shirt
and pant he wore. A ‘healthy’ French woman stood behind the Punjabi wife,
dressed in a typical woman visiting India dress of a brightly colored salwar –
kameez and clutching her ‘Guide de L’Inde’ (guide to India) firmly in her
hands. Behind the French woman stood a plump Bengali man, dressed in grey
trousers and a black blazer. The Bengali man spoke loudly in his heavily
accented Hindi while muttering and cursing in Bengali under his breath. He was
clearly not having a good day away from office. Behind the Bengali man, stood
couple of men who Mohit figured to be from the state of Bihar or Jharkhand, as
he spotted them loudly chewing tobacco in their red stained teeth and their
gold pierced ears. He could be wrong, they could be from UP, he wasn’t sure.
Mohit wondered what sadistic pleasure he derived from judging people at
airports and why he did it, as he soon got bored of imagining his co
passenger’s life and history. Whatever the reasons were, Mohit was quite enjoying
himself. He waited for the queue of people to shorten. Not many people were
travelling on this flight. Mohit figured there were about twenty people
travelling on his flight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
screen with the flight information read, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Flight#
- 3G 742 – From – Delhi – To – Raipur. Status – Boarding.’ </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
female voice on the PA system broke through, ‘This is the final boarding call
for Mr. Mohit Kaul, your flight is ready for departure. Request you to report
to Gate – 57 immediately.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Little
did Mohit know that this would be the final call for him and most of his
co-passengers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Flight # 3G <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>742 was about to crash and burn in the middle
of nowhere.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter 1*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Blackness
surrounded her. Her head hurt and the pain quickly spread all over her body
like a rogue virus. She willed her eyes to open themselves but her eyes refused
to obey as they floated in clouds of tears brought upon by unbearable pain. The
blackness cloaked her senses once again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She
was trying hard to yank the darkness off her eyes but was finding the fight to
be physically draining. Her ears twitched as she heard the sound of vacuum with
distant sound of a single loud wail. The dastard darkness enveloped her senses
again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When
she finally opened her eyes, her guts fought against all her will and tried
escaping through her open mouth. She realized she was lying on her stomach and
something was weighing her down. Something was cutting into her torso. She
willed her hands to move from her sides and crawl underneath her and felt the
hard and cold feel of the seat belt which seemed to bite into her skin. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Her
entire body screamed and she found herself gritting her teeth to stop herself
from yelling out in pain, as she unbuckled her seatbelt and used all the
strength she could muster to dislodge the seat off her back. As she turned and
moved, a man fell on her like dead weight. She screamed, as she tried to push
this man off her and that is when she noticed him lying there like a rag doll.
Blood had coagulated around his missing arm and the blood on her face and
clothes were sporting rusted brown blotches of drying blood. The very sight
made her scream and crawl away from the body with the speed of a wild iguana,
till her back rested and forced itself against a tree. She curled herself into
a ball and started rocking back and forth as her body shivered in fear. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My name is Emile Dauphinois. I
stay in 831 Avenue De Hambourg 230067 Marseille. I am in India. I am traveling
to Raipur. My name is Emile Dauphinois.’</span></i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Emile repeated to
herself in French, inside her head. Her body continued to shiver and rock back
and forth. Cold sweat was beginning to unite and form beads around her neck and
forehead and found it’s way down her back while joining forces with the tears
falling from her eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This is
your captain, Arjun Shekawat, speaking. We are currently flying twenty seven
thousand feet above ground level. We are facing slight turbulence, request you
to put your seat belts on. You might request our on board crew for any
assistance</i>.’ The flight captain gleefully announced before soberly adding,
‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Request on board crew to take care of
safety precautions</i>’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Emile
remembered the captain’s announcement on the on board PA system, as she tried
recollecting the other events which transpired before she found herself covered
in blood and shivering in fright. She puked some more and fought for air as the
realization that she will die a lonely and painful death triggered a panic
attack in her. As she concentrated on her breathing, she heard voices in the
distance. Buoyed with a sliver of hope, she crawled, stumbled and walked till
she saw the giant twisted metal bird. Smoke bellowed from its belly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Shobojit
Sarkar was seated on the ground, holding the bleeding gash on his left arm as
he intently stared at his phone, waiting for the precious reception bars to
raise themselves from the dead. As he knocked the phone on his thighs, urging
and threatening his phone to do what he had paid good money for it to do, he
finally acknowledged the mayhem which lay strewn across his field of vision. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
remembered the weightless feeling which punched him in the gut as he realized
that the flight was plummeting towards earth at an alarming speed. People were
getting thrown about in their seats and loose luggage was hurtling down the
deck. Mohit caught one of the hand bags right in his face which knocked him
out. The next thing he remembered was running up to people to see if anybody
other than him was alive as his fight and flight response system took over. As
he encountered one dead body after another, the sheer emotional exhaustion
which swept his being caused him to give in to the fatigue and he passed out on
the cold grassy floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Are
you alright?’ questioned the heavy accented feminine voice in English. Mohit
turned towards the voice and noticed the French woman looking at him with her
giant blue eyes, like he was an injured cat. He nodded, and took the extended
hand as he managed to pull himself on his feet. As he got up, he glanced
skywards, cursing the big gambler and noticed the lifeless body of the
stewardess hanging from the branches of a nearby tree. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
mumbled something as he gauged the chaotic mess of contorted bodies and twisted
metal seats. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Emilie’
she introduced herself, managing a weak smile. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Mohit’
he replied. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
spotted the Bengali businessman angrily slapping his phone; one of the Biharis
was frantically searching for something, probably for his mates, Mohit figured.
Thank God there were other survivors, thought Mohit as he muttered a silent
prayer. The Punjabi wife was standing in shock, expressionless, staring at the
wreckage. Mohit followed her eyesight and finally saw the enormity and ugliness
of death. It was not pretty. The French woman vomited again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
sudden agonized scream tore through the silence the survivors were participating
in, as each of them slowly and unsteadily gathered their shattered senses and
bodies to near upright positions, and assimilated the collective tragedy they
found themselves to be unwilling participants in. Mohit rushed towards the
cockpit. One of the pilots was alive and screaming. The cockpit door had torn
itself off its hinges and was hanging like a loose newspaper flap. Mohit jumped
in the air and tried getting a hold on the ledge of the door. But the stiffness
in his muscles didn’t allow him to get a firm grip.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Help!
Somebody help<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">!</i>’ Mohit screamed for
assistance. Shobojit looked up at the crazy man yelling for help, but didn’t
move. Emilie and the Bihari rushed to Mohit’s assistance. The Bihari hoisted
Mohit into the cockpit.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Help’,
the man’s voice trembled, as it pleaded. A quick glance at the bloodied badge
pinned on the man’s chest told Mohit that this was the captain of their flight#
3G 742, Arjun Shekawat. His co-pilot was lying slumped in his seat. Pieces of glass
shattered from the cockpit were lodged in his body like sprinkles on a donut. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘It
is going to be fine’, Mohit replied, as he unbuckled the seatbelt and tried
putting his hands behind Arjun’s body to help him get up on his feet. But he
soon realized that Arjun’s legs were smashed, the knee bone stuck out like a
camel’s hump. The pain was excruciating as Arjun’s eyes flooded with tears and
he screamed in pain. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
can’t move’, Arjun cried. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Hold
on!’ Mohit let Arjun’s body slide back into his seat as he opened the cockpit
door and looked around for water and first aid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He could hear the Bihari hurling abuses at somebody about being a
selfish bastard. He found the first aid kit and the miniature bottles of water
and went back to attend to Arjun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Here,
have some water, while I think about how to get you out of here’, Mohit ordered
before questioning Arjun, ‘The radio system is still working right? The distress
signal should have gone out by now right?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘It
is broken!’ Arjun mumbled as he sipped some more water and blinked rapidly to
keep himself awake. Mohit looked at all the shattered dials. With the second
half of the flight missing, there was no chance of finding the cockpit voice
recorder and the black box yet. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
realized that there was no way left for him to save the poor man who seemed to be
begging for his life and crying in pain. He knew what he had to do, he couldn’t
let this man go on suffering with no hope of relief. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
am sorry’ Mohit mumbled, as he undid the tie from Arjun’s neck and steeled his
nerves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Thank
you!’ Arjun said resignedly, the thought of eternal sleep seemed to lure
Arjun’s defeated spirits into her ample bosom. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
am sorry… I am sorry…’, Mohit kept mumbling his apology as Arjun reflexively
tried pushing Mohit away and tried fighting for air. Finally the thrashing and
the struggle ended. Mohit slumped back against the broken windshield of the
cockpit. The emotion of having taking a living thing’s life was not a new one
for Mohit. He was a poacher by profession, but taking a fellow human being’s
life was an entirely different emotion than killing elephants and hunting game.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Everything
alright?’ He heard the voices asking the same question in different tongues.
One in Hindi and the other in accented English. He quickly lunged forward and
started frantically searching for something in the storage lockers in the
cockpit. He finally found what he was searching for. A Heckler & Koch P30,
90mm handgun. Post 9/11, commercial airlines made it mandatory for pilots to
carry firearms onboard. He shoved the gun in his trouser’s waistband and
pocketed the ammo. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
looked out of the cockpit and caught Emilie’s eyes and shook his head ever so
slightly as he informed her about the worst. The Bihari stopped shouting at the
Bengali businessman and turned to see Mohit jump out of the cockpit and onto
solid ground.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘What
happened?’ The Bihari inquired.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Both
the pilots are dead. One of them was already dead and the other one bled to
death. Distress signal has been sent. Search party should be reaching us soon’
Mohit lied. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Pawan’, The Bihari said, as awkward silence settled amongst the
strangers meeting under strange circumstances. Mohit nodded in acknowledgement
and introduced Emilie. Mohit surveyed the scene again, the Punjabi wife was
still standing in shock and the Bengali businessman was still busy urging his
phone to pick up reception. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘We
should help others. I found some first aid and water’, Mohit suggested to
nobody in particular as he started walking towards the broken metallic bird. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">ETA
for the search party to reach the crash site:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>54 hours. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter 2*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After
water and first aid was administered to whoever needed, which was every
survivor of Flight 3G 742, Mohit approached the Bengali businessman who was
still engaged in a heated conversation with his phone. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘You
want me to look at that?’ Mohit inquired as he pointed at the bleeding gash on
the Bengali businessman’s arm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Yes,
please!’ The Bengali businessman replied curtly as he raised his injured arm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Mohit…’ He let the incomplete sentence hang in the air awkwardly as he
tore the bloodied sleeve of the man’s shirt and washed it with a little bit of
water. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Are
you a doctor or something?’ The man asked in his heavy accented Hindi. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘No.
I am a wildlife photographer. The job is a lot more dangerous than it is made
to look. I learned first aid when I was in Africa’ Mohit lied, again, as he
clinically wrapped gauze around the man’s arm. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Sorry!
My name is Shobojit Sarkar. I am not usually this rude, but I really needed to
get in touch with my wife. My wife… She is expecting our baby and I had to go
on this stupid work thing. They said I could be back in Delhi and be by my
wife’s side in a couple of hours. They said it was important for me, if I
wanted that promotion. After eight long years my wife is finally pregnant with
our baby and I can’t be with her. I am such a bad husband. I am such a bad
person.’ Shobojit retold his story, before breaking down. Mohit stared at the
man sobbing in front of him like a child whose favorite toy just broke, he
didn’t know what to do or say. He waited as he saw Shobojit wiping away the
tears and composing himself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
just want to see my wife and my baby’, Shobojit whimpered, as he held back the
deluge of emotions which were threatening to flood his system again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘And
you will. Help us with the others. Pretty sure people are already on their way
to rescue us.’ Mohit consoled him with just a hint of hesitancy. The fact that
Mohit couldn’t say this with a certain amount of conviction worried Shobojit,
but he chose to ignore it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
sun was fast setting behind the tall trees. Night would soon set in and along
with it brings its own share of danger and horror of the unknown. As the
mercury fell, the survivors of the ill-fated flight 3G 742 huddled closer.
Pawan and Shobojit had arrived at an unspoken truce after Mohit had told Pawan
and Emilie what he had heard. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After
making sure that everybody’s injuries were tended to, Mohit excused himself and
tried searching for his backpack amidst the strewn luggage in and around the
crash site. The people were already treating Mohit as the go to guy, and it was
beginning to annoy Mohit. Helping people was not Mohit’s profession. Making
money was. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
rest of the survivors gathered together in a circle, some stood, while some sat
on the wild growth, unaware of what was crawling amidst them. They were getting
introduced to each other. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Pawan and I was going back after visiting my sister. I had to take the
flight because she is married into a rather posh family and she had insisted
that I take the return flight instead of going by train to let her new family
know that we do have some class.’ Pawan introduced himself in regional accented
Hindi, as Shobojit translated what Pawan was saying to Emilie.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Emilie. I am French. I am a teacher. I was traveling to Raipur to
attend my friend’s wedding’, Shobojit translated this back to Pawan.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Shobojit. I am soon going to be a father.’ Is all Shobojit managed to
say. First in Hindi and then in English for Emilie’s sake. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Simran…’ The Punjabi wife replied, before breaking down again, tears
refused to venture out of their ducts to stain the already stained pretty face.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Os-sss-wald. I am a sss-software engineer’, added the shy Malayali man,
before quickly shutting up, embarrassed by his lisp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘My
name is Ram Prakash. I was going to see my grandkids for the very first time’,
the septuagenarian mumbled heart brokenly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘And
my name is Mohit’, Mohit said as he cut the old man’s sad story short before he
continued, ‘The sun is setting and we are running short on water and we are
going to need wood to make fire to keep the wild animals away, if there are any
in this part of the world.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
will go collect some firewood’, Pawan volunteered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Shobojit,
please go with Pawan. It is best if we don’t venture out alone without knowing
what is out there. Emilie and Simran can help Ram Prakash sir in sorting out
all the luggage and using whatever we can to make temporary beds. Oswald
right?’ Mohit inquired as he looked at the confused Malayali man.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Yes?’
Oswald wasn’t sure why he replied with a question. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘You
come with me, we can scout the area for any nearby water sources’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
gave final instructions to Pawan and Shobojit as to the kind of material they
required which would be most conducive to lighting a bonfire. And he instructed
Emilie as to what would serve as good materials for beds and the arrangement to
make for it, making it safe for all. He also suggested that they come back in an
hour’s time and then decide on when and who will stand guard throughout the
night. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘If
you sense any danger, leave everything and make a run and try coming back here’
Mohit instructed just as the four of them left. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit,
Oswald, Pawan and Shobojit headed into the woods, before splitting into groups
of two and going in opposite directions. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Half
an hour had passed and Pawan and Shobojit had gathered quite a pile of dry
twigs and other assorted foliage while chatting away about the life they had so
abruptly left behind, and what awaited them when they made it back. Pawan noted
the logistical difficulty in carrying back their entire haul, back to the
makeshift camp site. He offered that he make multiple trips since Shobojit was
injured and had use only for one of his arms. While he was gone, Shobojit could
gather some more wood. Shobojit agreed. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It
had been more than forty minutes, since Oswald and Mohit had separated from the
northie and the Bengali man. Oswald was following Mohit since he seemed to know
what they needed to do, and in which direction to go. But Oswald was beginning
to feel that they were moving around in circles. However, he chose not to
mention his concern to Mohit. Night was falling fast and Oswald was beginning
to keep pace with Mohit, who seemed to be following some sort of a strange
trail, like he knew this place. Before Oswald knew, he lost sight of Mohit. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After
almost thirty minutes, the women along with the muted assistance from the old
man had managed to arrange seat cushions as improvised beds to rest. Emilie
took inventory of the remaining water left and looked for food in the pantry.
There wasn’t much. Simran noticed the same. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
hope Mohit can find some water, I think we can get away without eating for a
night. People are searching for us as we speak. This is just for the night.’
Emilie spoke to console and instill confidence in herself than her newly found
friends. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
go. Find something to eat.’ Simran offered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Non!
Non! Mohit said to stay with others.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘It’s
okay. I find food. Worry not. I make good salad ji’, Simran offered again, this
time with a big smile. She was beginning to find her old spring in her step as
she put the afternoon’s happenings behind her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
will go with her’, Ram Prakash offered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Haan!
See… Papaji also coming with me. You stay here. You make bed comfortable’,
Simran’s smile widened as she found humor in instructing a fair skinned girl. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Some
food sure wouldn’t hurt’ Emile replied, as she returned Simran’s smile.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Fifteen
minutes later, the silence of the night was shredded with a blood curdling
scream. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Please!
Don’t!’ She pleaded feebly. The raised hands carrying the big boulder came
crashing down on the bleeding temples of the poor victim. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And
then there remained six. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">ETA
for the search party to reach the crash site: 51 hours.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter 3*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">They
all stared at each other in silence as they sat around the fire. Each one lost
in their own thoughts, fearing the worst. Simran, the fit Punjabi wife, was
missing from their semi-circle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘So what exactly happened?’ Mohit
inquired. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
was having trouble breathing. So she told me to sit and take some rest and she
will go and find something to eat.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Then
what happened?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘She
told me that she won’t be long. She said she found something which looked like
wild spinach’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Nobody
said anything, as they waited for Ram Prakash to continue with his narration.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
waited, and then I started to get worried as she didn’t come back… And then…’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Then
what?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
heard her scream… I tried to run to where I thought her scream came from… I
called out her name. I didn’t hear anything back. So I called her name some
more. Then I got really worried, and I rushed back here.’ Ram Prakash finished
his narrative.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘So
we don’t know what really happened to her.’ Oswald stated the obvious. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Maybe
there are lions and bears in this jungle.’ Pawan offered a possible
explanation. The heavy shroud of silence which covered the motley group
suffocated Pawan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘I never should have allowed her to go.’
Emilie said, stifling a sob as she rocked back and forth with guilt, refusing
the cold tin foil with the pre – packaged food efficiently prepared by Taj –
SATS for the passengers of Flight 3G 742. Ram Prakash passed the food to Mohit,
who hungrily devoured the contents. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>‘Maybe it was the naxals.’ Shobojit
offered a counter theory. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘There
are a lot of them in jungles.’ Shobojit added.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
remained silent, as the group looked at him eagerly for some sort of an
explanation as he ate his food. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘We
don’t know what happened to Simran, whatever is out there, it is dangerous. It
could be the naxals, it could be a wild animal. We don’t know. What we do know
is that we have to survive the night and wait for day break and see… For all we
know, we may not be far away from a village or a highway.’ Mohit gave his two
cents and tried educating the group on their chances of survival, as he noisily
licked his fingers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘What?
What does that mean?’ Emilie questioned, as she saw newly formed frowns on the
already worried four faces. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Nothing.
We sleep now.’ Mohit replied, as he tried to dismiss Emilie’s questioning
glance. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘NO!
YOU TELL ME! I WANT TO KNOW!’ Emilie screamed, as the anger and frustration
poured out. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
feeling of being the odd person out, of being an alien, and being treated like
a pariah due to the color of her skin and her foreign tongue overwhelmed her.
These feelings had been festering in Emilie’s conscience from the day she
stepped out of immigration and met the driver which the hotel, her friend had
booked to stay had been kind enough to send. She had been forewarned by her
partner, Susan.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Susan
and Emilie had been fighting for weeks, Susan was not keen on Emilie going to
India on her own. She had claimed that it was not safe for anybody. Emilie had
initially laughed at the concerns which Susan had, and attributed them to Susan
being insecure about their relationship. Emilie and Susan had been dating each
other since college, and Emilie remembered Susan was never the insecure kinds.
But when Emilie had slept with some guy at a college party and Susan had got
wind of it, they decided to end things. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But
that is the thing with love, especially when it involves two emotionally
volatile people, the world and life can do their best to keep them far apart
but they always collide like space-time singularity. They made promises which
lovers make, and the following week after the incident which would never be
spoken about, they moved into a one bedroom studio apartment. Just before Susan
hugged Emilie goodbye at the airport, she repeated and cautioned Emilie about
the dangers. Emilie smiled patronizingly and kissed Susan shut. As Emilie went
past the security gates, Susan shouted out her undying love. Emilie smiled, and
held back tears which were threatening to break free from her eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Don’t
drink water from outside. Carry your own mineral water. Don’t eat anything from
any place which Indians call as being good and tasty. You will get the trots. I
know your immune system and I don’t want you falling sick when I am not there
to take care of you. Don’t look at people in the eye, especially men. I read an
article online that Indian men are real pigs, just making eye contact with them
gives them the idea that you want to have sex with them. I am worried Emilie.’
Susan looked pleadingly as she requested.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘You
are not serious? Are you?’ Emilie questioned, as she pushed Susan’s hair back
away from her pretty face, as they lay spooning each other on the solitary bed.
As Susan continued, Emilie wondered what most people in love wonder, why did
Susan love her so much? Emilie didn’t consider herself to be a good looker, she
wasn’t as bright or talented like Susan. She had pestered Susan on many an
occasion seeking answers to these very questions and they had always ended up
making sweet, slow, tender love. She missed Susan now more than ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Tell
me! I want to know… Please.’ Emilie mumbled through the tears streaming down
her face, as Mohit got up and brushed past to set up a perimeter around their
ersatz encampment. He was beginning to lose his cool with the others and their
barefaced fear and dependence on him. As Mohit broke sturdy and low hanging
branches from a nearby tree and stuck them in the ground to mark some sort of a
perimeter, the others in the group grappled with the problem of a woman
indulging in the luxury of giving vent to her emotions. They did not know how
to handle a weeping emotionally vulnerable woman amidst them. They felt like
they should do something to console the woman crying in pain and anguish, but
they didn’t know what to do, they didn’t know their helplessness was an
attribute of them being men or them being Indian men. Finally Shobojit kept the
tin foil with the food down and translated whatever Mohit had told the rest of
them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘We
will take turns to keep watch throughout the night. We will each stand guard
for three hours each. That way all of us can get enough sleep. Since Emilie is
the only woman in the group, she doesn’t have to stand watch. Ram Prakash sir
can have the first watch. Pawan can have the second watch, I will have the
third watch and…’ Mohit spoke as he looked at his wrist watch. The time was ten
to nine. He then looked at Shobojit and Oswald as he wondered who would be the
most alert in the wee hours of the morning. He wasn’t sure why he preferred the
old man to stand guard than Shobojit. But something about that Bengali man made
Mohit distrust him. He wasn’t sure if it was Shobojit’s callous behaviour in
the morning or the fact that he didn’t really buy his story of a pregnant wife
back home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
will take the final watch.’ Oswald volunteered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Okay!
That settles it then. Whoever is standing guard is also responsible for keeping
the fire going throughout the night. Good night!’ Mohit said, as he lay down on
the cushions and ripped the plastic cover which contained the blue blankets
bearing the airline’s logo embossed on its corners. He turned on his side,
facing the group, the gun still stuck in the back of the waistband of his
trousers, covered himself with the blanket and soon fell asleep. The rest of
them except Ram Prakash followed suit as they tore through the plastic wrapping
around the blankets which Emilie and Simran had found buried under a pile of
hand bags. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ETA for the search party to reach the crash
site: 48 hours. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter 4*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
allotted three hours passed quickly as the waning crescent of the moon
traversed through the sky. Ram Prakash whispered Pawan’s name as he tried to
wake him up while not disturbing the others. But Pawan was ensconced deeply in
the safe arms of a dreamless sleep. Ram Prakash poked him with the stick he had
been using to stoke the fire, he was feeling sleepy, and hoped that Pawan would
wake up soon. He was not young enough to stay awake or was he feeling generous
enough to take another man’s shift. After much prodding and name whispering,
Pawan woke with a grunt. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Pawan
thanked Ram Prakash and sat down with his knees pulled close to his chest. He
looked at the gold plated watch and wished the three hours would fly by as he poked
at the fire with the stick handed over to him by the old man. He wondered if
his sister was being treated right by her in-laws. He was sure that the debt he
had accumulated to get his sister married would not get cleared for a long,
long time. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
moon continued its lonely journey across the sky as Pawan slapped himself from
time to time, buying him just enough time to have his head roll forward towards
his knees. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Pawan
was glad when his three hours passed by without any trouble. He did feel
slightly guilty that he spent half the time sleeping than watching guard, but
he didn’t care about it, especially now that his time was over and it was
Mohit’s turn. Pawan whispered Mohit’s name as he tried shaking him awake. He
didn’t have to try hard. Mohit was a light sleeper. He woke up with a start and
pushed his shirt down over his flat stomach, but Mohit was just slow enough for
Pawan’s alert eyes to catch a glimpse of the gun tucked behind Mohit. Pawan
made a mental note to bring it up in the morning, when everybody was awake. He
wasn’t sure as to how Mohit had managed to procure a gun, but the thought
disturbed him. The exhaustion of a long and an emotional draining day and
incomplete sleep soon had Pawan pulling the blanket over his chest and he
slipped into deep slumber. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mohit
noted there was still another hour left before his shift ended. He had finished
dissembling and reassembling the Heckler & Koch P30, 90mm handgun with
deadly precision and silence. He tucked it back into the waistband of his
pants. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He
hoped he didn’t face a situation where he would have to use the weapon. It
would prove counterproductive to his need to lay low. It would not be good for
him if Irwin Chartoff got to know about his whereabouts, especially after he
had stolen from his ex-boss. Mohit had been planning to make a run with the
money for the longest time. The crash was the sweetest serendipitous thing to
have happened to him. He reasoned that it would take the rescue search party at
least a day to ascertain the location of the cockpit voice recorder and the
flight’s black box, probably another day after that, for them to find the
remaining wreckage. He just had to stay alive and keep the stash of money which
he had bound together as books close to him. The gun would come in handy. He
had managed to lose Oswald just long enough for him to bury the bag. Oswald had
not noticed the absence of the bag when he met him again. He was too scared by
that scream. He wasn’t sure what had killed Simran. He didn’t want to think
about it as he put that thread of thought on the backburner. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
thrill and rush of the possibility of leading a new life excited Mohit. He
looked at the sleeping face of Emilie and wondered when he would get a chance
to have his way with her. He knew he was going to have a fun time with her.
Mohit stood up and ventured outside the perimeter he had set up to answer
nature’s call. Guided by the light offered from fire, he found a tree to
relieve himself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Midstream,
Mohit heard the unmistakable crunch of a dry twig breaking, he turned around
with the ferocity of a mercenary, the gun halfcocked and pointed menacingly at
the intruder. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘You?
What are you doing awake?’ Mohit inquired. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Couldn’t
sleep and I too had to pee. I saw you here and thought it would be safer if
there was somebody close by. ’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Go
on then. You don’t have to wait for me to tell you.’ Mohit replied curtly as he
tucked the gun back into his pants.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Where
did you get the gun?’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘That
is none of your business!’ Mohit replied, as he zipped his pants back up.
Mohit’s shirt got caught in the zip, and as he wrestled with the shirt and the
zip in the dark, one of the picket fences which Mohit had stuck as the
perimeter, came crushing down on the back of his skull. The force with which
Mohit was struck broke his parietal and occipital bones in his skull. Death was
quick and instant. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And
then there remained five.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ETA for the search party to reach
the crash site: 42 hours.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter 5*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A few burning embers
remained as proof of the once roaring fire. As daylight broke through the
horizons and the moon fought eternal battle with the cavalry of first rays of
the sun valiantly, life began to wake up from its sleep. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Shobojit woke up with a start and
suddenly realized that his nightmare was in fact his reality. He saw Oswald
sleeping noisily and looked at his watch. It was quarter past five. His body
ached in places he didn’t know if he should continue calling them his own. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Wake
up!’ Shobojit commanded Oswald, which the malayali man blatantly ignored and
turned over in defiance. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WAKE UP!</i>’ Shobojit yelled again, as he
violently tried to kick start Oswald awake from his inertia. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Ammey!’
Oswald cried out as he regressed to his five year old, pleading to his mother
to let him sleep for five minutes more. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
exchange between Shobojit and Oswald also stirred awake the rest of the group
as they rubbed their sleep away from their torpor crusted eyes. They slowly
managed to get up on their feet and tried stretching their aching bodies as
they moaned and groaned. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Why
didn’t you stay up and stand guard?’ Shobojit quizzed Oswald, as Oswald twisted
his hips and heard the sound of nuts being cracked from his back. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Nobody
woke me up!’ Oswald defended himself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Where
is Mohit?’ Ram Prakash inquired, as he folded his blanket.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
woke him up at the end of my shift’, Pawan answered Ram Prakash’s question and
let people know that he did his bit as he frowned at Oswald. He still felt
sheepishly guilty that he had slept through most of his watch but didn’t share
that bit of information with the others. He wondered if he should ask Mohit
about the gun in private or in the presence of others. He decided that there
was still time for him to make up his mind on how to proceed and let the matter
rest. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Maybe
he has gone to find water or something. We are almost out of it.’ Emilie said,
as she pointed to her stash of empty water bottles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘What
should we do now?’ Pawan questioned, nobody answered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Can
you come with me? I need to go to the bathroom.’ Emilie requested Shobojit, who
blushed a little at the request. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Shobojit
stood and walked behind Emilie as they ventured a little distance away from the
rest of them and then turned his back, allowing the requisite privacy Emilie
needed as she tended to nature’s call. Shobojit wondered if he could find something
to brush his teeth with, he could feel the slimy pale white plaque coating his
teeth. He cupped his hands in front of his face and blew into it and stopped
himself from chucking his dinner out at the vile bad breath which he recognized
to be his own. As he lost himself in thoughts about his poor dental hygiene, he
heard Emilie scream. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Emilie’s
scream made the group run towards where she stood rooted. Mohit lay on the
pebbled moss covered grassy floor, on his face. His hair matted with coagulated
blood serving breakfast to all sorts of flies and creepy crawlies. Pawan joined
Shobojit, who was kneeling next to what definitely seemed like a dead body.
Pawan ran his hands on Mohit’s pants and back before he rolled him around.
Mohit’s face was swollen from the blow to the back of the head. Rigor mortis
had set in and his face was beginning to make way to go past the point of
recognition. The other’s gasped collectively as they cast their eyes on the man
who seemed to know what he was doing. Pawan continued patting down Mohit’s body
with increasing worry. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘This
was not done by a wild animal.’ Oswald spoke, as he tried to look away from the
body. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘It
is not there.’ Pawan worriedly exclaimed, as he suspiciously eyed the rest of
the group. He was growing increasingly scared as realization set in that the
killer was one of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Maybe
Shobojit was right. Maybe there are naxals in this area.’ Oswald continued as
he ignored Pawan’s trembling voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘What
is not there?’ Ram Prakash inquired curiously, as Emilie still stood rooted to
her ground, wetness permeating the insides of her dress from the involuntary
loss of control over her bladder. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘The
gun!’ Pawan cried, as he cautiously stepped away from the rest of the group.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Gun?’
Ram Prakash and Oswald chorused. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Gun?
What gun?’ Emilie questioned, as she tried understanding and assimilating what
was being spoken in the alien language. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Yes!
I know what I saw. Mohit had a gun tucked in the back of his pockets. I saw it
last night when he woke me up. One of you killed him. One of you is the
murderer!’ Emilie was not understanding anything what Pawan spoke, but she
seemed to sense the accusation leveled at them. Oswald, Emilie and Ram Prakash
huddled closer as Shobojit slowly stood up from his kneeling position and
stepped away from Pawan and Mohit’s lifeless body. Each of them processed this
new gigabyte of information. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">ETA
for the search party to reach the crash site: 37 hours.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">*Chapter
6*</span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
five of them stood staring at each other as they furiously tried working out
the mystery of who the wolf was in sheep’s clothing. What was the killer’s
motive.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Oswald
was a quiet and shy software geek with a lisp. What the others didn’t know was
that he had been diagnosed with stage IV cancer of the liver. Pawan sure seemed
like the kind who would do anything to make sure his sister lead a happy
married life and was not troubled by her demanding in-laws. If there are no
survivors, the government of India would award a much larger amount of
compensation money to the family of the deceased. Pawan would surely benefit
from it. Was Emilie’s xenophobia manifesting in uncalled for violence? Shobojit’s
turn from being a surly man involved in a love – hate relationship with his
mobile phone to being a willing participant in most of the group’s activities
was worrying. Ram Prakash was too old and too frail to carry out any act of
physical violence. But he was also the only one close to Simran. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
group ran through the permutations and combinations with all the factors they
could think about under intense pressure. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Are
you talking about this?’ Ram Prakash, the old septuagenarian, took a step back
as he reached behind his back and pulled out the gun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Wha?’
Oswald couldn’t help stop himself from letting out the reflexive question which
escaped through his lips. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘All
of you on your knees and put your hands behind your head. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">NOW!</i>’ Ram Prakash barked the urgency, as he watched people falling
down on their knees as he motioned them with the barrel going up and down ever
so slightly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Pawan,
being the furthest away from the gun and the rest of them tried making a run.
He didn’t manage to go very far before the loud bang from the Heckler &
Koch sent the birds flying from their safe vantage point and knocked Pawan off
his feet. The hot slug of lead entered Pawan from the back of his skull and
exited through his left eye. The mushy brain matter didn’t do much to stop the
course of the determined lead bullet. The bullet didn’t just enter Pawan and do
a tango through his brain, but it also instilled the fear of absolute death in
the others. They knew that running away or fighting the old man was going to be
futile. Shobojit shivered, Emilie whimpered and Oswald found his tongue tied as
fear collectively gripped them in a fatal death grip. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Questions
raced through the minds of the four, as they locked their fingers behind their
heads. Their eyes firmly locked onto the ground in front of them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘Why?’
Shobojit found the courage to speak and ask Ram Prakash the loaded question, in
Hindi, as he raised his eyes and looked pleadingly for mercy at the old man.
The question made the other two look up at the man wielding the power on their
destiny and the gun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
was going to tell you that anyway. It is the least I can do for you’, He
replied in English as he cocked a smirk which dripped with every bit of evil
and senility the old man found coursing through his veins. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘We
shouldn’t be alive. When the plane crashed, we were all destined to die. By
staying alive, we are cheating death. We are defying the will of the almighty.
We are challenging God.’ </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘You
are mad!’ Oswald screamed, before breaking down into a fit of sobs as his mind
raced towards all the things he still wanted to do. He had always kept his head
down and done all the things his parents had asked him do. He didn’t go out and
play with his friends after school, he went for tuitions. From a convent
school, he graduated to the premier engineering institution. All through
college he slogged through countless hours of work and assignments as he
strived to be the best. He declined all offers of drinking and smoking. He was
the first in their batch to be placed in the coveted day zero placements. For
the next five years, he had climbed through the ranks of corporate hierarchy,
putting in excess of 120 hours of work every week. Including Sundays. So when
the doctor had informed him with cold, clinical aplomb that he had stage IV
cancer of the liver, he found himself walking out of the doctor’s office in a
daze. He didn’t know how to break the news to his parents. He didn’t know what
he had done to account for thirty years of his life. He didn’t have much time,
but he was hell bent on soaking every single experience which life had to offer
on the limited time period he had. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Before
Oswald had the chance to resign himself to his terminal fate, the Heckler &
Koch ended things for him. Abruptly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Shobojit
and Emilie closed their eyes reflexively as blood and brain matter sprayed over
their eyes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘One
shouldn’t interfere with the bigger scheme of things. This is how things are
supposed to end’ Ram Prakash prophetically proclaimed, before he raised his gun
again and fired twice. As Shobojit shut his eyes tightly, he imagined a new
born baby boy crying loudly and yelling ‘Papa!’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘I
did what you wanted me to do.’ Ram Prakash spoke with finality to the
apparition of a dark man dressed in black and gold riding a buffalo as he
raised the gun for the last time and pulled the trigger. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
director yelled, ‘CUT! And that is a wrap!’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Loud
cheering went around the makeshift set the production crew had set up in the
outskirts of Bombay, as the actors woke up giggling and backslapping each
other.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Flight
3G 742 released amidst much fanfare on Friday the 13<sup>th</sup>, May 2011. It
sank at the box office without a trace. </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">********THE
END*********<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607" name="_GoBack"></a></span></u></b></div>
</div>Zennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05144225505012302890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-45801953709232725002012-03-02T01:28:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:05:51.914+05:30Boxer Shorts - A Brief History<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">In
today’s blog, we shall focus our attention on the origins of boxer shorts and
men who wear them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Origin
of boxer shorts</span></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The
humble origin of the boxer shorts was not in Africa<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a>,
as most conspiracy theorists would like us to believe, but in Orissa<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a>,
India. Orissa to its credit also has pending patents with regards to tying one’s
back hair together as a net to catch Ridley Turtles. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">But
coming back to the origin story of boxer shorts, till the early 970AD, all of
mankind was content with constricting the blood flow to their nether regions. Things
would have continued to be the same had it not been for a young coconut farmer
named Biju, who got teased every single time he climbed the coconut tree by his
pet cat, Alka. Alka would wince and laugh every single time Biju would tie the
jute rope around his waist and climb the coconut tree in his underwear. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">You
see, one of the biggest drawbacks for the patrons of underwear, is that one
needs to be maintain an optimum pubic hair length<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a>. A
length which has a very thin margin of error, any neglect in this department
causes extreme amount of pain, especially to cats, causing them to roll over and
viciously attack any wooden object in their sight. Biju being a poor coconut
farmer, could no longer afford to record videos of Alka doing her hilariously cute antics of
scratching coconut trees. Especially after the coconut trees petitioned the court of coconut
assembly to bring an end to this domestic quarrel. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Biju
did not seem to have any other choice but to either take a sharp object to his family jewels,
which to Biju’s father’s credit was the sole item left behind in his
inheritance after he died<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">[4]</span></span></span></span></a>, and
Biju was quite fond of these family jewels. As he sat there in the evening
watching repeat telecast of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a brilliant idea
stuck him. He decided that instead of choosing underwear or pants, what if he
decided to be Zen like and choose the middle path. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">And
so he ran to the village tailor’s shop and gave the order for the very first
pair of boxer shorts. The village tailor, a Nigerian man who lost all his money
in the great email scam of 953AD, saw the immense potential Biju’s fashion
design skills had for his people back at home<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span></span></span></a>. And
in a blatant violation of the client - tailor confidentiality oath all tailors take before being certified genital measuring craftsmen, the tailor mass produced these boxer shorts and exported them to Africa with the help of Phantom (The Ghost Who Walks) in the year 981AD. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">And that is how the humble boxer shorts were designed and
invented.By an Indian named Biju. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Who
wears them now</span></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Till
the early 19<sup>th</sup> century, boxer shorts were worn by artists and other
non conformists who had a genetic defect which caused Captain Winkie to explore
areas well outside the boundaries defined by the underwear. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">But,
as the years rolled on by, hipsters and bullies observed that teenagers were
the only ones who still sported underwear. They also observed the howl which
accompanied the violent extraction of the underwear sounded as being
extremely pleasurable pain.The artists and other hipsters then went back and devised the thong, while the bullies continued to taunt poor miserable kids who couldn't afford boxer shorts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">At
the end of the last century it was noted that boxers were worn by people who
studied or worked in extremely hostile situations, where the seniors (otherwise
called as assholes in pop culture) were more prone to stick their leg up people’s
bums just because they could. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">There
are a number of ways one can spot a boxer shorts patron, so many that the
author does not feel like making them up at this point of time. But the most
common way is to look out for the unusually wide gait the boxer short supporter
has after he leaves his office/school/college premises and heads to the nearest
watering hole. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">So
far, there have not been many side effects noted by the continued usage of
boxer shorts, except for the unwieldy pavilion which erects itself when
Scarlett Johansson is mentioned. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"><i><u><b>Famous
Personalities who subscribe to wearing boxer shorts</b></u></i>: Male actors who specialize
in acting in specific kind of R – rated movies, Charlie Chaplin, Bilvio Serlusconi, Sakhee Rawant, Chandrachuran Singh, (Keep a)
Safe (distance from my palm) Khan and Dole – Shole Khan among others.</span></div>
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<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[1]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"> The Tailoring Association of Africa have it on
good record that they were hardly any orders for underwear since their
introduction in 930AD, as the African male was known to pack a large tool
between his legs as a safeguarded measure against the imminent invasion of Caucasians
who couldn’t jump. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[2]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"> Orissa, now unpopularly called as Odisha. The
name was changed in accordance to new evidence suggested by yet to be conducted
archeological digs which have conclusively proven that the statesmen running
the state are descendants of various vaginal discharges. </span></div>
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn3" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[3]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"> Optimium pubic hair length has been ascertained
to be 3mm around the waist – groin triangle and 7mm around the gonads. This was
ascertained by a melee of women who loved to go down but often suffered bouts of
loose motions and vomiting due to the occasional intake of pubic hair. It was
an occupational hazard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span> </div>
</div>
<div id="ftn4" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">[4]</span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"> The cause of death for Biju’s father was deduced
to be restricted blood flow down south of his torso. </span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn5" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-80483900305941046602012-03-01T06:23:00.000+05:302020-04-14T07:05:52.041+05:30Grand Classification of Men - Underwear<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">I have a new theory. A
new way to classify men or as the biologists call them Homo – Sapiens, (Not to
be confused with people who get teary eyed at the sight of a dinosaur and a
donkey kept apart by the abandoned or discarded gonads<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></span></a>
of Joseph Allo Allo Rats That is a Zinger Burger). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A theory so grand and
sweeping, that it is astonishing that so far it has not been dictated to morons
practicing their short hand in Braille on dried papyrus leaves or mass printed
by the Gutenberg. All that is set to change now, this theory is set to rewrite
the history of mankind and how we view ourselves. It should come as no surprise,
if you, in later years found this theory paraphrased by Hon Rubbard in his
manifesto causing vertically challenged people to jump up and down on your couch while taking a poo. But to keep this theory short, concise and more to the point, I will
largely limit my explanation to homo – sapiens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">There have been many
classifications before, and in all likelihood there will be plenty more to
follow this. But like I said, this is definitive in its application. With all
the fan fare I could conjure up at 0518hrs in the morning, I shall now go ahead
and enunciate the theory. </span></div>
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<b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">‘There are three
kinds of men, men who wear briefs, men who wear boxers and men who don’t wear any undergarments of any sort.’ </span></u></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Now, we shall examine
each of these three kinds of men in a sequestered<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">[2]</span></span></span></a>
manner. For this post, we shall restrict<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">[3]</span></span></span></a>
ourselves and talk about the first kind. </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Type
V – Men who wear underwear </span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Men who wear
underwear, are much like cabbage farmers. You know they exist, you may have probably
even heard about them while you eavesdropped on your mother talking excitedly
with her friends on the phone or read them in the dirty magazines which your
mother treasured more than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.google.co.in/search?q=your+mother+probably+never+read+this&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a">Embroidery
for beginners</a></i> called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.google.co.in/search?q=your+mother+probably+never+read+this&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a#hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=7rZ&rls=org.mozilla:en-US%3Aofficial&sclient=psy-ab&q=You+are+an+Idiot+with+a+capital+I&p">Terrace
farming for Dummies</a>.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">If you were born in the 80s, you may have even
seen somebody wear underwear in person, somebody really close to you. Statistically
speaking, it would have been your father, but then again it could as well have
been the next door neighbor Mr. Mehra. But then again, statistics is a quack
science<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">[4]</span></span></span></a>,
nine times out of eleven, it is proven to be coma inducing. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">If
you were also born in the 80s, you may have experienced wearing one yourself whilst
sticking a stick of broom down your baniyan pretending to be He – Man. The
author does not remember wearing his underwear over his pants pretending to be
Superman because pants were meant for grownups and his wardrobe contained
mostly onesies and half pants. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The underwear
sporting man can be recognized by his strong, silent and insecure demeanor. Nose
hair extending all over his upper lip which is styled in a 70s free loving
pro-bono male sex worker look, hair growing out of his ears which he neatly
combs along the side of his head so that it tangles and mates with the hair
coming out of his bum in a very French Jake Sully manner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The prolonged use of underwear
does however have an unusual list of side effects. The most often reported side
effects are a variation of the bikini line tan, ALL OVER HIS LEGS, since the
underwear sporting man never does expose his legs to direct sunlight. The usage
of underwear also leads to his pudendas to merge as one, especially during the
summer season causing excessive scratching of the groin area which leads to an
increase of tsking by women folk in and around that area. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Famous Personalities who wore underwear (underneath their clothes) : He - Man, M. Churchill, Grnab Aoswami, Sapil Kibal and Chyna. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The author would like to go on record and state that he has not worn an underwear since the unfortunate incident of 2003, where he got massively drunk and his anal sphincter released the content of his bowels onto his last and only pair of tighty whities, </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">which he then had to fling off the balcony. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">He successfully transitioned into boxer shorts following this incident. </span></div>
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<u><b>ps:</b></u> Notes on boxer shorts and no knickers shall be written down as and when the author has gotten bored of listening to his hair grow. In the dead of the night. </div>
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<u><b>Fact:</b></u> Hair does grow really slowly. </div>
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<u><b>pps:</b></u> The author would suggest that you look for an alternate career if you get bored easily. Listening to hair grow takes patience the size of Grnab Aoswami's self righteous prick. Which is massive! </div>
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<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt;">
Investigations are still being carried about by the Papal police on the rather
mysterious pair of apricots found next to his Holiness’s dentures. </span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">[2]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt;">
I thought of doing a word play joke on sequined there but then gave up as word
play is not really my forte.</span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn3" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">[3]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt;">
I did make a joke there. </span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn4" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6588727961032199607#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">[4]</span></span></span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt;">
On one occasion it even caused a young lady to spectacularly combust in white smoke
when somebody uttered ‘Lepto – Kurtic Curve’ as a joke at a dinner party.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-37806331801910511612011-09-10T11:42:00.001+05:302021-07-09T10:37:01.469+05:30A moment to Remember – They don’t make movies like these since 2004.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Can you
recall the last movie which made you drop your defenses and your cynical view
of the world and relationships? Can you recall the last movie which made you
yearn for something which you knew was all reel but you hoped that it was real?
Can you recall the last movie which made you invest so much in the lead
characters that you forgot where you were and cried your soul out? Can you
remember the last movie which made you reminiscence of a time when you truly
and really believed in fairy tales? </span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I do,
well some of them anyway, couple of movies do pop in mind which might answer
most of the questions I ask, ‘Jerry Maguire’, ‘Love Story’, ‘The Notebook’ and ‘50
First Dates’. But if you look at the release dates of each of these movies,
Jerry Maguire – 1996, Love Story – 1970, The Notebook – 2004, 50 First Dates –
2004, it has been more than a decade since I have seen these movies. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">2004, apparently
seems to be the year, fairy tales for the new century were written and
translated on screen. One movie which seem to have missed the public eye, much
like the solitary tear you wipe away after you have decided that you have cried
your heart out was ‘A Moment to Remember’. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<a href="http://www.cinemasie.com/en/fiche/video/8213/jaqHR.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://www.cinemasie.com/en/fiche/video/8213/jaqHR.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">‘A Moment
to Remember’ is a South Korean movie, based on a Japanese television drama; the
South Korean title literally translates as ‘Eraser in My Head’. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a simple story about a young girl and a
young guy, who meet, fall in love, get married and then the girl begins to lose
memory. It may sound like just any other movie, this review may read like just
another review, but it is not. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">The story
is simple and unassuming like a cotton thread, sewing the many stories in the
movie together. The crux of the story is about a girl meets boy. But it is so
much more than that. Apart from being a love story, it is also a story about a
father – daughter relationship, a story about ex – lovers, a story about an
estranged mother and her son, a story about a student seeking his mentor’s
validation. The movie was like a multilayered chocolate cake. Each layer
telling a story of its own, but at the end of the day it is a simple love
story.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">A love
story for which I needed subtitles to understand the dialogues, a love story
where you don’t have to verbalize every single thought, a love story where
songs played in the background, a love story which made me bawl my eyes out
like a pregnant cloud exploding over a parched piece of farm land. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">ALL the
actors, including the extras play along like pieces of a jigsaw, fitting
themselves snugly into what is a beautiful mosaic of a sad love story. But the
movie is all about the lead pair of Son Ye-Jin and Jung Woo-Sung. Their faces
extending as canvases on which their characters paint with different emotions,
resulting in nothing less than a renaissance. Son Ye-Jin’s face is like pale porcelain,
radiating with elegance, and when it cracks, the sound resonates in your heart,
mind and soul long after the movie ends. Jung Woo-Sung’s face is scruffy,
hiding behind it all the mystery and pain, and when he clean shaves it, the
ache in his heart and mind scream in your psyche. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">If you
have watched enough love stories, you will spot the multi amalgamation points
of different movies. You will find traces of ‘Love Story’, ‘50 First Dates’ and
‘The Notebook’. But you disregard them all. All because of the emotions on the
character’s faces in the extremely close shots mirror yours, because, you see the
physical and emotional breakdown of characters in those medium shots as you
find yourself breaking down and wiping the first traces of wetness off your
cheeks. And these images play like a bass note to the treble note of aerial and
long shots of beautiful breath taking scenery. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%;">Written
by Yeong-ha Kim and John H. Lee (who also is the director). And as far as this movie
is concerned, take my word and do NOT watch it with your other half. Watch it
alone, with a box of tissues for company and hope that your story plays like
this one and ends with a happy ending. </span></div>
</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588727961032199607.post-51283962272913044492007-04-28T02:21:00.001+05:302018-02-14T11:15:38.056+05:30Amul - A Short Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its morning again, I can hear the darned birds chirping outside, with my eyes still closed I can hear the ticking sound of the wall clock like the irritating sound of the water faucet dripping. The water faucet never drips in my house, because I don't like it dripping, like the way mom's head was dripping blood, and flooded the floor and spoiled the carpet. I like everything neat and clean.<br />
<br />
My name is Amul. I believe my father was especially fascinated by the utterly butterly delicious girl. Though I have a liking towards her myself I don't like to acknowledge that to anybody. Though not many people have actually found out about this connection. But am aware of this because my father during one of his happy drunken moods told me about this. And those are rare cases. I know for a fact that even if am genetically part of my father, I will never become like him.<br />
<br />
I study in the 7 th grade. And I like my school. My favorite subject is math. I don't understand why people don't like math. I see star world in the evening and people are always saying lame ass jokes about them sucking at numbers. I love my math teacher,her name is Simi Miss I dont know her last name guess its Miss.We all call her Simi Miss. She is funny and she reminds of my mother. I like Simi Miss because she likes me, she thinks am smart. And I like it when she kisses me on my cheek, esp when I solve some of the questions she gives only to me. She always gives me questions to solve and only me. And all her questions she tells me are named after old men who thought of all these questions and then they died trying to solve it, which I find really funny. She gave me today some old man's problem called the Fermat's theorem.<br />
<br />
<br />
My mother died when I was 9 years old. My dad hit her in the not so good drunken moods and she fell. And then she died. My dad did not tell me anything and I understood that am supposed to act like Gandhi's monkey. I always wanted to ask this question to Simi Miss . I wanted to ask her, why the monkey uses 2 hands to cover one part of their body. Doesn't make a good ratio. What it should look like is 2 monkeys one covering its eyes and mouth and the other covering its ears.<br />
<br />
The model monkey would be me. And the monkey covering my ears would be my father. What I really love about this picture is that the father monkey is not drinking. I find old people to be so damn funny. And i find them even more funny especially when they cry. Everybody cried at the hospital that day. I could draw graphs for all the different frequencies they were crying in my head for each person.<br />
<br />
My favorite sport is cricket. I think I can kick Sachin's ass. And I also think that he is highly over-rated. But my best friend Anita doesn't think so. She thinks I will get smashed out of the stadium, but that's why I like Anita, she can be so stupid at times. She told me about this funny video, her mum hides and keeps in her computer system where women are naked and are making funny noises. She and me tried making those sounds but she sounded better than me, maybe she practices them before she goes to sleep, she denied it but I still have my doubts. She is my class-mate and my bench-mate. And whenever she forgets to get me lunch we fight and divide our bench in to a Indo-Pak war zone. But she is funny and teaches me all the bad words her parents call each other. Her favorite swear word is bitch, she told me that this is what her mum calls her grandmother.<br />
<br />
After i come back from school, I go and play till my father comes back home I rush back home and sit in front of the TV. After dad makes dinner its his turn to watch TV and he asks me to go to my room. On some days dad watches something on tv which I think is something like the funny video Anita's mum watches. I try to sneak a peek. But I can't really see anything, except for the blue light.<br />
<br />
So I try and solve the problem Simi Miss gave me. Its pretty simple actually. I rewrite everything because Simi Miss can't understand my handwriting, and I draw lines and all. And then I go to sleep, hoping that those darned birds don't wake me up again.<br />
<br />
note: This is just a fictional story. More like a prologue. I just wanted to write something today. So i did. =)<br />
<br />
ps: I may continue the story... Maybe not. :P</div>
Zennmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03198894368685551693noreply@blogger.com4