Disclaimer:- This story is pure fiction. The characters in the story may have resemblance to some of my friends. So I have deliberately encrypted the names using the "Varun Mohan's first letter replace very complex algorithm" so that none of you will ever figure out.
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Epidose1 : Rubin Woke Up
Rubin woke up early and rushed to the mirror to check his new hairstyle. This has been the case for the past many weeks. He would have the same stupid dream every morning, wake up in a startle and run to the mirror to make sure everything is in place. Marriage was indeed an intimidating affair. He tried to remember the symptoms of thyroid deficiencies from his 10th standard biology class. Sleeplessness,Dizzines,Palpitation.. What else?. Yea!, memory loss.
Anyways everything has been sealed now. Its like getting inside the general compartment of Parasuram express and wishing you hadn’t got in. There is no way out.
His father in law owns a bakery in
Epidose2 : Gone is the purse
Shaggy loose low waist jeans and a full sleeve 44 size buy one get two free Excaliber checked shirt folded up at the wrist revealing the golden strap of a Timex watch!Two black bata shoes polished heavily to cover up the hole near the protruding thumb stepped out elegantly from the Guruvaayor-Chennai express.
Sunny (some spell it Sunni) looked around and walked to the ticket counter. The line was long as usual with the engineering college students going home. Sunni rubbed his well trimmed mustache and let out a fulfilling sigh happy to see so many girls learning engineering. Gone are the days of male domination in engineering. It’s feminism baby!. He joined the line and waited. It had been raining for the last few days and the station had an uneasy dampness. The dripping sound of water, slippers crunching wet mud, a moody atmosphere. Some street kids were punching keys on the Information Kiosk trying to figure out something. Sunny stretched his hand and pressed an option on the touch screen. “There you go kids. It’s a touch screen panel. Select your options and then punch in the keys. You will know what you need to know” Sunny winked. The old guy behind him in the queue smiled. Sunny smiled back and turned slowly enough to catch eyes with his daughter standing behind. The children had turned around and held out their right hands, the left one pressed against the stomach, face expertly mocked to show painful hunger. Sunny looked away at the ticket counter. The children waited for some time and uttered something very mature and left the scene laughing. Guruvaayoor-Chennai express was slowly moving out of Thrissur. A few more minutes and Sunny was at the counter. “One Ernakulam South”. The lady at the counter expertly pressed a few keys on her computer and frowned at the screen for a while as if wondering why the rocket hasn’t taken off even after the count down had crossed 0.A printer coughed and spat from behind. “Its 65.Please gives 5 Rs change”. Sunny put his hands in his back pocket and touched cool air from the other side. The purse was gone.
A few moments later Sunny sat down on a bench and stared ahead. On the next platform he saw a face he recognized. They both waved hands.
Epidose3: Don’t chop them.
“Do you believe in God, Mr Cadar?”
“Yes sir, I do”
“Then you should be knowing that God wants us to live in a particular way so that he can take us in his league when we are dead”
“Yes sir, I do”
Khalid Mustafa Khan shook his head in disapproval and opened the book.
A child started crying from the back seat.
Mustafa khan took his eyes off the book and pounded the hammer on the table. “Order ..Order”.He read some more from the book.The child was still crying.
Mustafa Khan cleared his throat “ Mr Cadar, You claim to be believing in God but you certainly don’t follow his path. Stealing is a serious crime in this country and we have very clear rules about how to handle crooks”
“But sir, I didn’t steal anything. I just copy pasted some code snippets from Google”
Musatafa raised his voice. “What do you think you are Mr Software Engineer? You think you can fool us all by hurling such technical jargons at us? Mr Jabbar Khan here is a certified computer operator and the entire town gets their computers installed by this guy.He has confirmed that what you did is definitely copy writing and not copy pasting and as you see here in this book, copy write violation is an offence comparable to stealing”.
Mustafa Khan adjusted his specs and turned to his subordinate sitting beside him.
”Type a letter to the president requesting a constitutional amendment. Someone has misspelled copy write to copyright.” Mustafa whispered in his ears. The subordinate nodded his head like a bouncing ping pong ball.
Mustafa cleared his throat again and stood up. “So as it truns out, Mr Cadar you have certainly done a heinous crime and by the laws of this country I have made my decision. Let the condemned be taken to the jail and let those filthy copy writing fingers be chopped off his hands.”
“But sir, I just copy pasted from Google” Cadar cried as two heavy men dragged him away.
Stepping down from the chair, Mustafa khan told the subordinate “When you type that letter, add a post script asking for permission to ban that Google thing”
The prison turned out to be a desert. Cadar had his face against the sand. From the corner of his eyes he saw the shadows of a vulture circling under the intense sun. Behind him there were mumblings about the knife not being sharp enough.They will have to use some force.Cadar thought about the fateful day when he decided to fly to Saudi Arabia.But how could he not? How could he not come when his dear love Armana was calling from the other side.How could anyone refuse that call.He flew in like a dove and now lay here waiting for them to chop off his wings. He remembered his friends warning him not to leave. They had said "Don't leave dear Cadar, they will chop things off" and he had said "I dont care dear friends . As long as I am with my Armana".
Cadar shut his eyes tight as someone grabbed his fingers and kept them aligned on a flat rock.He heard the metal strike the rock but felt no pain. He felt something moving in his pants. Something vibrating. A familiar hindi song filled the air. Some lady was saying something in the background.Cadar tried to listen. "Yaatri kripaya dyaan deejiye. Travancore se Mangaloore thak jaane waali gaadi number..". Cadar jumped out from the top berth, grabbed his bag and ran for the door.The mobile alarm was still buzzing in his pants.He ran out as the train slowly moved away. Cadar looked around ,threw his bag down and sat on a bench. He looked at his mobile. The time was 6:00 AM. But the station wasnt Thalassery. Behind him the lady was calling out "Thrissur station aapka swagat karte hain. Welcome to.."
Epidose 4 - About Shimid
Senior Software Engineer,
“Enge ponam saar”.The auto driver with the RajaniKanth hairstyle asked.
”Railway station pongo”.
The auto crawled through the Chennai traffic. The beaming headlights from the oncoming vehicles created mysterious creature with the suspended dust and smoke. “
”Inneku rombo traffic saar”. The driver said as he switched off the engine.
“Aama. Wait pannuvo” Shimid agreed though he didn’t feel the traffic was any different on that day. It was normal. It had been the same way when he first landed in Chennai.
The chain of thoughts started linking.
Kundoormala, SHREADS,Interview,Job,Chennai,Rejani kanth,Vijay, Aseen,Namitha,Nayanthara,Trisha,Shakeela, Mariya,Silk Smitha..
“Che!” Shimid shook his head and tried again.
Kundoormala, SHREADS,Interview,Job,Chennai.STOP!
Thoughts were galloping horses and Shimid was no cowboy. But thanks to Yoga master Thottada Kumaran mestiri, he now had the ability to hold his thoughts at least on the second try.
Shavaasanam,Sheershaasanam, Kukkudaasanam,Pathmaasanam,Puttaalu, Lottulodukku ,STOP!,Gulugulmaal, STOP!,Kapeesh. STOP STOP STOP!
Shimid gasped for a while unable to control his breath. Maybe it’s the heat. His concentration has gone weak. He took some deep breaths. Or maybe it’s that mail.Shimid had tried to be modern and open minded by ignoring a forward mail. Maybe it’s the mail. “Oh forward mail. Please don’t hurt me. I have disrespected you by not doing what you asked me to do. I shall not have another drop of water till I forward you to at least 50 people. Please forgive me. Pleaasee” Shimid shut his eyes tight and prayed.
Many miles away from Chennai, a tectonic plate under the
A few hours later in
1 comment:
"Thoughts were galloping horses and Shimid was no cowboy" - Liked it.
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