No More Us

It took me four years to go back. Four quick years, all this time, I avoided facing what I knew I would have to eventually go back to. I was through with my mechanical engineering, there were stuffs, I needed to see through. Confusing and complicated was my life. More than my life was my emotion. So far, I had excused my absence back home with studies. Surprisingly everyone believed me.

Raurkela, my adopted city had devoured me, physically drained me and had me occupied. There was always something happening, always some lecture to attend, some projects to prepare or some movie to see. There was always someone to crowd my life. Friends in the canteen, batch mates in class and roommates in the hostel.

However, my village never left me. What they say about, “You can take the man out of the woods, but you can't take the woods out of the man.” My village slumbered somewhere between Bhubaneswar and Cuttack: tucked deep into nowhere. There were fifty houses and a high school. There was an all season stream and countable water pumps. A few street lights and no proper hospital. Surprisingly, my father, mother, uncles and aunts all were healthy and robust. There was no case of any serious disease or unnatural death that I heard of. Except the accident that choked my life.

In the name of a bus stand, there were a couple of tea stalls on the high way. It was 9 pm and I had dozed off, when I was shaken and shown the bus door by the conductor. I thanked him profusely and got off on a sour note.

No one was around, not like I was expecting an entourage. I had not bothered to inform my parents. I took the wiry track to the now famous wooden bridge and the stream underneath. Summer usually had more visitors to this place. The path remained muddy and slippery. This was the route for villagers to carry fresh water. It was a moonlit night and I could see each tree. I pulled at some branches to disturb sleeping birds. I spotted a few rabbits or were they mongoose; I was not sure. Yet their presence assured me of company.

It took me all of twenty five minutes to reach the wooden bridge and yes I was keeping track of the time. Once, I reached it, I knew I would lose my sense of time. Time took a timeout. This was where I had played hide and seeks as kids. Here on these planks, I had sat for hours telling stories. I had slept on this bridge at night looking up at the stars.

I walked to the bridge and watchfully chose my spot. Not too far from the center and not near it either. The barricade stood perfectly broken at the middle. I found the bridge damp as I rested my hands beside me. I hung out my legs and sat on my denim back. Water gurgled and made a contended sound. Early, rains had pepped the place with greenery. I wished, I had carried a few pebbles to throw aimlessly into the water. I sat there doing nothing. I had no clue how long I sat there. And then I saw her.

A first, she was a mere shadow. When I focused on her, she came into light. She stood at the edge of the water bed. I was relieved that she was there. I was getting fed up of myself. She wore an orange shalwar suit that looked like burnt red in the night. Her hair was tied loose in a pony and she was bare feet. I had often teased her that she had prettier feet than face. Right then, I realized, I was wrong. She had a most fascinating face. Her skin was silk and her eyes were pools of water.

I saw a touch of excitement in her eyes and some madness in her smile as she came and sat next to me.

‘I was kind of hoping you would be here’ I said.

‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else’.

‘You look unreal’.

‘What? I take good care of myself’ she burst out in giggles.

‘Strangely funny’ I joined her in laughing.

‘How have you been, Su?’ I asked.

‘Susanna is my name. Su is no more’ she teased me.

‘You…’

‘Do you miss me? Did you miss me in the city?’

‘What kind of a question is that? I loved you…deeply.’

‘I did not understand you like I understand now’.

‘How so?’

‘Now that it is all over, it does not matter whether you loved me or not, belong to me or not’.

‘Oh’. I was pensive.

‘I know, I love you and nothing could change that’.

‘You still love me, after all the trouble I put you through?’ I looked into her eyes.

‘Trouble does not trouble me but love still weakens me’. She looked away. Was she crying?

‘You weaken me, Su’ she did not mind me calling her Su again.

‘I know, I am here to tell you, it was not your fault. It was nobody’s fault’.

‘I should have caught you. Better still, I should have jumped after you’

‘Yes, you could have. The bridge is low height. Fear did not stop you, shock did. There is a difference’.

‘Low height, hun? How come, you were hurt’?

‘I hit on a stone, that one over there. Some people are plain unlucky’.

‘Did that hurt a lot’?

‘Nope, it was quick. My last most dominant emotion was the excitement of your mouth on mine’.

‘But…’I tried to reason.

‘It was an accident, accept it’.

I love her, I had always loved her. Our homes were as entwined as our destinies. Our parents worked in the same farming field. We went to the same school. We were born a few days apart. We grew into adolescence together. She was the one for me and I always knew that. Often, I would force myself on her, in the field, near the bridge, in the river. She would threaten to spill the beans but she never did. I knew she loved me too.

My engineering admission was done with. I had always been a bright student. I did not want to go away. I did not want to be away from Su. She was upset and had not been talking to me for almost a week. That was my last night; I had plans to get close to her.

At night, we met on the wooden bridge, our common meeting place. I was all excited. She was still upset. I was impatient and she was awkward. She did not realize time was running out. We ended up fighting. She tried to detangle herself, I caught her and pinned her hands behind her. I pushed her into the barricade as she struggled and tried to bite at me. When I kissed her, she eased against me.

The entire village was sleeping and I was living my dream. I felt all grown up. I release her hands to cup her face and then she kicked me. I got all worked up and pushed her back. The old wooded bridge creaked and complained. I was too far gone to care. The middle of the barricade opened up and she fell, her back facing the river.

I wanted to hold her back, to collect her into my arms. Instead, I could only balance myself from falling. I had let her fall and hit on a stone, while I stood there breathing abnormally. She hit her head first and there was a distinct sound of death that came from her.

‘I sat there looking at your body, until morning.’

‘I know.’

‘I never confessed to anyone about how it happened.’

‘I know.’

They believed it was an accident. Everyone knew, we kids always came here at night’.

‘I know.’

‘They found me on this bridge, too. I had not moved from the spot’.

‘I know.’

‘There was a big scandal. Some people said you were pregnant’.

‘A scandal or two does not hurt the dead. It only makes them famous’. She was smiling. I could not take it anymore, I needed a hug. Tears were forming in my eyes and clouding my vision. I turned to her after wiping my tears and she was gone with the winds. Soon, it was going to be another day. I got up, dusted myself and was on my way home.

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The Human

(The 3 ingredients used in this story are - An Orphan, A Building on Fire, The Last minute[of my life])

Now

“Are the reports out Doc?” asked Pooja as she took longer than her normal strides, trying to catch up with the head of Neurology at ARC [Advanced Research Centre].

“We are baffled, his brain is one that every human would love to evolve to,” said the doc.

“Are you telling me that he is not human? “ asked Pooja and the doctor stopped and looked at her for few seconds and said with a smile, “He is more human than what humanity accounts for right now.”

Two Days Back

The MAANAV neighbourhood that is generally desolate had turned into a live wire with the sudden blast that was reported early in the morning. What people believed to be an uninhibited farm house now housed corpses of an old couple and an unscratched and unconscious teen. The whole town was talking about the teen now, as reports of every electronic device malfunctioning within his vicinity started to spread like a wildfire.

“I knew that a devil lived in that house, things moved on their own and I would often hear strange voices,” spoke the area postman into the reporter’s microphone. There was not a single channel that wasn’t reporting about the MAANAV mishap and the mystery that surrounded it.

“The doctor said that the boy is breathing normally and his pulse is normal too, but for unknown reason he is unconscious and we cannot electronically monitor anything… Forget MRI even an electronic watch won’t work around him,” quipped Inspector Gautham into his mobile and right then the nurse arrived with the news that the survivor has gained consciousness. That was exactly what Gautham had been waiting for, so he immediately sprang into action, grabbed his notepad and started walking fast towards room number 314.

“Patient is still under shock, just 10 mins Inspector,” said the nurse and left.

Gautham was looking an athletic teen around 6’1”, jet black hair that were curly beyond explanation, deep and well set eyes with high cheek bones and a long pointed nose. As he was wondering how to address him,

“Mithun” said the boy, as though he as reading Gautham’s mind.

“What? …. I mean .. Hi, am inspector Gautham, Can I ask you a few questions?” words stumbled from the inspector.

“I have no place to go in this realm, no parents, never knew them. I also know that my caretakers are dead, so am all yours.

No, I am not responsible for the blast but what I know is that it’s not advisable to keep me here for long.

Yes I have lived in the farm house all my life.

Yes I am fine and will always be.

So you can tick the last question on your notepad , I have answered them all,” said a smiling Mithun, leaving Gautham gaping like a gold fish . He wanted to ask many more questions, but he simply couldn’t and for once he was scared.

Few minutes after Gautham’s report , Ms Pooja Vishwanath from PET [ Paranormal and Extra-Terrestrial Wing] arrived.

“Hello Inspector, let this be something solid and real as you claimed,” said Pooja in an authoritative tone.

Room 314

“So .. Mithun is your name, eh? How old are you?” asked Pooja with a plastic smile.

“It’s not advisable to keep me here for long, you are risking lives.. I would be more than glad to answer you in a less populated, rather secluded place,” said Mithun and right then the hospital lights started flickering . “Too late already,” he quipped.

The static screeched in Gautham’s walkie talkie.

“716 reporting fire, 2 blocks from ARC , SICAL warehouse, over.”

Gautham immediately responded with “I will be there in 5 minutes,” and stood up to leave when Mithun called out his name and like an insect attracted to a light source, he moved towards Mithun. As Pooja watched he held Gautham’s wrist and the inspector twitched, not in pain but as though something very bright and blinding hit him.

“Are you OK inspector? Let him go, kid,” panicked Pooja.

Right then she heard herself saying “Its OK .. He knows what he is doing,” as if her subconscious was talking to her and she couldn’t help but keep quiet and watch.

In a few seconds , the inspector nodded and left the room. He was on his way to become a national hero .

A DAY Before

What was regional news yesterday has become a national sensation today, Inspector Gautham saved 19 students from a burning warehouse.

They were not mere students, they were the intellectual elite picked from INDIA as “Child Prodigy”, a part of the ruling party’s anti brain drain campaign that was initiated a year back and was a grand success. Everyone in the country talked about it. Gautham has become a national hero by saving the greatest intellectual asset that the country possessed. Little did people know that the whole rescue mission was planted into Gautham by Mithun!

“Are you serious? He literally showed you what to do in your head?” asked Pooja with utter disbelief. All Gautham could do was nod.

“We have to run tests on him, but how? No equipment would work on him.. What is he?” Asked a frustrated Pooja.

“Maybe ask him his permission, this was his last note to me,

‘You have to ask me when you need something'
That didn’t make much sense then, but now it does,” said Gautham without looking up at Pooja, his gaze fixed on the question mark pattern that the marble flooring had.

They both walked to room 314 and as they entered they realized Mithun was not in his bed. They knew very well what Mithun is capable of and knew he can walk out anytime he wanted.

“He kept saying it’s not advisable to keep him here for long, we didn’t listen, now …”

Before Pooja could finish the sentence Mithun walked out of the restroom and smiled at them, “What? I am as human as you are” said Mithun with a wink , “…and yeah… You have your permission” he winked again!

“Permission for what,” asked asked pooja with PUZZLED written all over her face and Gautham gently squeezed her forearm and said.. “To run tests”!

Now

Pooja and Gautham sat right opposite Mithun and he spoke,

“I'm afraid I might not speak to you again and have very little time, your tests would tell you facts from what is known and I am not from there. To reach to the unknown you have to travel in unchartered waters and you map won’t help you there.
What am I? A mere projection of the same thing you all are made of, but from a different part of this multiverse, to speak in a language you better understand you can call me a time traveller . If you tread right, all would evolve to be me”

“You sound like Lord Krishna ! Are you quoting from Bhagavat Gita by any chance?” Asked Gautham.

“Oh ! Do I? Maybe your Krishna too was a time traveller” Mithun grinned and winked.

“How much more technologically advanced should we become to evolve like you,” asked Pooja.

“True evolution can happen only when Humanity surpasses Technology and not the vice-versa,” smiled Mithun.

“Are you God?” asked Gautham unable to come out of the KRISHNA STATEMENT that was made few seconds back.

*Knock Knock*

As Pooja and Gautham turned, their last minute with THE HUMAN was over.

Good that he didn’t answer that. For it would have forever remained a gaffe!

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Sriram's Blog : My Paradoxical Paradise

My Three Concubines

(The 3 ingredients used in this story are - Dead Tiger, Wine Bottle, Superhero)

I am called a disbeliever of love; they don’t know I am not. They don’t understand why I prefer to live alone, nevertheless I do. They say it’s ludicrous that I stay away from love; I am not away from love. They say I need a woman, a lover; they don’t know I am in love.

To be honest, I was never loveless in my life. Love came at various times, well of course to me, and not to the other side. After the death of my mother, I was probably never loved back in return. But love would never leave my side. Like a little plant coming out from a planted seed, love would always arise in some corner of my heart and in no time, it would fill my entire heart. But unrequited love is difficult, to say the least, if not homicidal. And all my life, I have craved for love only to be turned down by my fate.

The only love I ever experienced was from my mother.

My father was a good man, socially. I wanted to study and grow up to be like him. But I knew I couldn’t, for I wasn’t half as bright as he was, or as any of my classmates.

“But, you will have a brighter future” my mother would tell me when I used to cry for being dull in studies. It’s needless to say that my father didn’t think so. But my mother, she would always protect me whenever my drunken father would try to raise a hand on me. “Brainsick” he called me when I repeatedly failed to pass my exams for the third standard. Tireless efforts of my sick mother made me pass in the exams of the second standard. And when the results were declared and I returned home to tell my mother that I am eligible to sit in class III now, I found my mother lying dead on her bed. She had finally succumbed to the lung cancer she had been fighting for years.

“Mother, open your eyes, I am finally in class three.” These were the last words I spoke to my loving mother’s cadaver.

Ever since that day, ever since I reached class three, I was never loved again.

Class Three.

The word three holds a deeper meaning for me. For today I divide my heart and the love in it, into three. Yes, I had two concubines in my life. Tonight, I will have my third as I sit on the chair looking at her conveying my love for her and telling about the love we will make tonight.

I will be a man tonight, an adult, eighteen year old and I celebrate my birthday reminiscing my last two loves and I promise to love my third as long as I live.

I was an eight-year old when I fell in love with my first. Like I said before, I am not a disbeliever of love. I believe in all forms of love. I believe in the love of a mother for a child, I believe in the love of a child for a toy, I believe in love at first sight, I believe in love well-thought-of, in manipulated love, in material love, in unconditional love, in bounded love, in well-reasoned love, and in mindless love.

I saw him on the TV. Helping people, loving people, He was the proof that good wins over evil. He was the proof that if you believe in something it will come to you. He was the unsaid promise that if something bad happens to you; he will come to help you. And if for any reason, little children of my age or older take the wrong path, he will, without fail, come to stop them. He would teach lessons of morality. He would teach that we should always love the poor, the needy, and the weaker ones. He would say that treachery, theft etc is bad and you should never choose such a path. He would always say to love animals, for they will never harm you if you don’t harm them. They will always help.

He was the superhero of our country christened “Shaktiman” by the people, meaning a man of power.

It took me four long years to realize that he was just another fictitious character of the Television, a fake, a lesser mortal like all of us. He didn’t come when I had called for him innumerous times to bring my mother back or to come and love me and stay with me. Nor did he come when I had expected him to; to save my second beloved at her moment of dying.

It was love at first sight, my second love which somehow crept into the house of my heart, pushed the images of the Superhero aside and found its place to sit forever. Alas, the love was ephemeral. I didn’t even get an opportunity to know if she loved me back; I just imagine now that may be she did.

I was fifteen then and she was beautiful. The first thing I noticed about her was her pair of divine green eyes. Next her hair, brown hair yet black in some parts. With great serenity she looked at me back and walked towards me. I stood there dumbfounded by her beauty, by her presence. I knew I was in love with her. She walked towards me and I fell in love with each step of hers. She was only a few inches away when I heard the loud sound of a gunshot. It was our guide, Tiwari ji, who had fired the gun to kill the tigress in front of me, the tigress I fell in love with, and probably the only tigress we saw in our whole trip to Corbett National Park.

I had cried that day, I had cried for a month; and I had argued with our guide, with the teacher who was with us as an escort and with father.

“He went to jail for killing that tigress. He went to jail to save you. You are to be blamed. Don’t you get it?” My father had scolded. But I didn’t understand. I thought the tigress loved me. I thought she wanted to be loved in return, for a change, just like me. I thought we were supposed to love animals, like my fraudulent superhero had preached. I thought they don’t harm you if you don’t harm them. Either by my former love or by my father, I was lied to.

It took me a year or two to forget her, my second love. It took me another year to hate my first love. My heart till now was divided into two – the fake superhero whom now I hated, and the tigress for whose death I was to be blamed. It’s pity that I never got to know if she loved me back like I loved her, if she too fell in love at first sight.

Sometimes people fall in the wrong company, sometimes in the wrong love. May be the choices I made were faulty. May be I fell in love with the wrong ones. But God knows that I never could love anyone else. I was made to love them; and I was made not to be loved in return. I was made to live a melancholic life. I was made to beat myself up for somehow killing a poor tiger. I was destined to hate the Superhero I so believed in. And above all, I was destined to hate myself.

But, I am in love again, and I will make love tonight. I have parted my heart into three for her. And she sits tonight in front of me, flaunting proudly herself to me, telling me that I can’t help but fall in love with her. I am now looking at her entire body; I am planning to make love tonight. I am planning to make love with the beauty in front of me. I am planning to make love with the color red that she contains within her. I am planning to be in love with her forever. I am planning to love her - the bottle of wine, red wine, forever.

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Sanhita's Blog : Pens and Pages

The Island

The Z-series assault-sniper is one of the deadliest weapons created; easy to use and assemble. A design that allows it to be disassembled and stored in a small backpack, thus making it the weapon of choice for many an assassin. Although the production of the Z-1, as it is known as has officially stopped, clandestine armourers from Israel to Thailand and Pakistan to Russia still manage to procure this weapon.

For the last five years of my life, every single day and night I have kept my Z-1 close to me. Living all alone on this remote island - one among the many that make up the Mergui Archipelago. I came here five years ago as a hunted man, a rogue agent. I had revealed a nexus between the 'Agency-head' and a small defense-contractor who had supplied defective weapons to the 'Agency'. Attempts were made to silence me with gifts and promises; but I refused to budge; went ahead and leaked the findings of my report to a newspaper. I was branded a traitor and charged under the 'National Security and Official Secrets Act'. With great difficulty I managed to sneak out of the country in a fishing boat and reached Mergui. As I contemplated my future, the newspapers in my country had turned against me. All allegations raised by me were dismissed as fabricated and I was painted as 'Enemy of the Country'.

This was the reward for being the top-notch assassin of a powerful intelligence network; for believing in the greater good of the country; for never having loved anyone and just being a shadow that would travel around the world; to eliminate those individuals who posed a threat to the progress of my beloved nation. This was the price of my pursuit for both truth and justice. I knew that the long hands of 'The Agency' would use every possible resource to track me down. I did not have too much time.

Years back, when I was a small boy, I loved reading 'Biggles Air Commodore's Adventures' and some stories featured the Mergui Archipelago. When I was not killing people, I would visit these small islands and atolls that made up the Mergui Archipelago. During one of the many trips, I discovered a small island. This island had a small network of caves that actually went below the surface of the earth and eventually merged into an undersea-cavern. I knew a day would come when I would require a sanctum. So I built a small retreat here, midway into the cave away from the eyes of the world, ensuring that none of the locals in the mainland realized what I was doing. To the locals I was just another crazy scuba-diver whiling away his time.

The island was self-sustainable with some coconut trees, fish were abundant in the sea, and I had stocked up on salt and spices for a long time. Like Robinson Crusoe, I survived for five long years, away from the glare of those who hunted me. Even I was surprised that no one had managed to figure out my hideout. But 'nothing lasts forever.' Early this morning at about 3AM there was a slow hum of a motor. The unmistakable sound of the 'Amphibian plane', landing gently on the beach.

I took out my solar-powered Magna-binoculars - and focussed on the beach - it was a three-man team and a pilot. The pilot relaxed and decided to smoke a cigarette and began playing a game on his mobile-phone. Ah! How the years have flown - not having used a mobile phone or a computer for five years - the device in the pilot's hand looked something out of a science-fiction movie.

Strike-1

I then focussed my attention on the three commandos - armed to the teeth; special night-vision goggles, smoke-grenades, assault-daggers, and a M-5 sub-machine guns. There would be some more weapons hidden in their compact backpacks as well. Each left in a different direction. Commando - 1 - C-1 headed straight towards the hill and walked up slowly. It was almost as if he knew there was a cave. He took out of his Zigmaster climber and fired it up on to the rock-face. The climber found its mark and stuck on to a crevice. C-1 tested the strength of the rope and climbed slowly. This was going to be child's play; I smiled as C-1 climbed the rock-face; I crept out slowly and noticed that it was the darkest hour 4 AM before dawn when the sun would rise about 4:30 AM. I took out my Z-1 and fired at the crevice where the climber's holder was stuck. The bullet found its mark and I focussed my binoculars on C-1, as he fell down the 200 feet with a surprised look. By the time he met terra-firma, he was dead by the wounds on his head and neck.

One down!

Strike-2

Apparently the commandos carried walkie-talkies and were in constant touch. For, within 25 minutes of C-1 crashing, C-2 and C-3 had rushed to the remains of their compatriot. In anger they took out their M-5s and shot madly at the rock-face. This noise brought the pilot out. There seemed to be a meeting between the commandos and the pilot. The pilot was to stand guard over the fallen man's body. C-2 and C-3 started climbing the rock-face from two different directions. I let them climb the rock-face and reach the top. There was a strange sense of joy - something that a psychoanalyst would describe as madness. For me, it was a question of survival - kill or be killed. As C-2 and C-3 approached stealthily, I threw a rock into a rain-puddle, my stalker immediately fired at the puddle. I smiled at myself. Then I shouted - 'Boys - do you really want to do this?'

By now C-2 and C-3's frustrations were evident as they began to fire randomly. I calmly took them out with one bullet each aimed straight at the heart - no soldier deserves to be shot in the back! The Z-1's bullet can pierce even the toughest vest. The bullets found their mark and C-2 and C-3 fell down dead.

Strike-3

It was precisely at this time that I felt a massive tremor. I looked at the sea - and the rising sun - something seemed wrong! The waves were lashing at a ferocious space and they seemed to be ten times normal than usual, the Amphibian had no chance as it got battered to pieces; the pilot stood still lost and resigned to his fate; the waves carried him away as well.

Then I felt the ground below my feet shaking as I rushed to higher ground. I realized a tsunami had struck! The massive waves returned thrice and then all went calm and silent. The sea was its usual impersonal self. I buried the men who had come to kill me and I looked at the damage that the ocean had unleashed.

This too shall pass!

I looked at my trusted Z-1 and walked slowly on the beach reflecting on how a true agent is always an 'expendable'!

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The Girl I Last Kissed

The background trance music was loud and unsettling. I felt cramped and crammed from within. It seemed like the party was touching its prime. Men and women in bizarre green masks held each other and danced in slow motions. For some reason, my head was on a constant throb. It was like there was a bomb inside ticking. There was a friend with me, which one I could not be sure. He whipped a tall glass of powder green liquid from a passing waitress and handed it to me with a wink. I dropped the glass on seeing baby reptiles crawling out onto my right hand. Walls of the room were also lined with reptile cages. I could not see much in the dimly lit room except these traps that were illuminated in dark green shade.

A strange numbness that comes after millions of needle pricks on your body took over me. I fell down to my knee almost hugging the fake marble floor. My eyes carried me to across the room, where I saw her. She seemed calm, at home with everything. Her white dress was long and covered her slim body well. Our eyes met and she smiled. Did she remember me from last night?

I wanted to go to her, to touch her, to talk to her but she turned away and I lost her. Sitting on the floor, I wept like a teenager who had been freshly dumped. I wanted my friend to help me and to my utter distraught, he was nowhere. In his place, a person in a giant lizard costume stood. I screamed my loudest and woke up to early morning sweat.

Aircon was breathing life into my dead bedroom. I pulled away the sheet to allow my sweat to dry. My fists were knotted and my nails had dug into my palms. I sat up, shrugged off a nightmare so real that my reality had seemed like a distant dream. Last night…

Last night flashed before me, when I had met her for the first time. Since then her visage had never left me for a moment. Some faces live with you, forever. I was at ‘Someplace else’, a hangout for guys like me, who would rather be someplace else then currently where they were in their life. A live band was doing their bit at performing covers of English classics. The only part, I had liked in the entire gig was their song selection. ‘Please don’t go’ floated around. Unlike the original, a woman sang the song. I had not cared to turn away from my drink on the deck of the bar to check who was singer at helm.

The dance floor was spilling over with scantily clad women, wrapped around their men friends, mostly colleagues. There was this woman; I had spotted some half an hour before who had my total attention. Yet, I pretend concentrated on the glass shelves opposite me over the bar filled with show cased bottles, mostly wine. I caught my reflection on the mirror frame that bordered it. One could safely call me good looking, if one liked curly hair and down slanted mouth. I wore a formal shirt, open to expose a toned chest. I am six feet plus and carried myself in ‘cotton world’ pants and dark work ties. A voice trainer at Wipro, I had girls coming onto me, for both professional and personal support, which I provided depending on my whims and moods.

I had kind of surprised myself by getting worked up over a girl, a strange girl at that. Never in my entire twenty eight years did my wild side go ballistic, like it was the John of the Jungle over a random girl. Her black kameez looked like it was made by a tailor, who knew all her curves intimately. Her neck line was a deep ‘v’ exposed by her chiffon dupatta that was hugging her neck closely. The tan on her skin seemed from a recent holiday by the sea. Her eyes were set wide apart, giving the impression that she was easy to surprise. Her mouth was arresting, small and full like a ripe plum.

Like she read my mind, she came straight to the counter beside me and leaned over. She had ordered a Bacardi and insisted on freshly squeezed orange juice to go with it. I could not help smirking and then our eyes met. I had a embarrassed smile to offer and she smiled like we were friends. I saw a slight flicker of recognition or was that my drunken imagination. I allowed myself to hold her gaze more than it was socially decent. She did not seem to mind.

‘You work for Wipro, right?’ She asked.

‘We know each other?’ I came forward as the music was loud and also because I wanted to know if she was wearing any perfume. I liked what my nose picked out but could not place it. It was lemony and very appetizing.

‘Nope, I have seen you at the Wipro café’.

‘You work for Wipro too?’

‘Heck no again, I am next door. We hop over to Wipro’s café during break for awesome pakoda and amazing guys’. She talked naturally and puckered up her mouth in a way that was a cross between a pout and a pucker when I spoke.

‘Thanks that I take as a compliment’. I was animated. She was served her drink. Wonder how the bartender managed freshly squeezed orange juice at that hour. He threw a smile at her and placed her glass neatly on the counter over a napkin.

‘The other day, I saw you getting out of the elevator. You were sand witched like a burger’.

‘Funny but how do you mean?’ I was seriously getting drawn to this one. She turned around and waved at some people sitting around a table to a corner to our left. I put two and two together; she was with a gang of friends and had come over to order a drink. She probably had jealous boyfriend somewhere out there and that should have held me back. It did zilch to my ardor.

‘Those two girls you were with were soft and round. You were like this beef in between’. She looked at me without any amusement in her beautiful eyes and rested her mouth gently on the glass ring to sip her exotic drink.

‘You are a babe, aren’t you’? My breathing was irregular and I was feeling a little high. I had an urge to drink what she was drinking, to go where she was going and to be with her, generally.

‘Babe? I am just an admirer; you have in your closet’. She was flirting. I turned around to check, if anyone was keeping an eye on her and when I found that her gang had left the table, I leaned over and kissed her. Her pulpy mouth opened in shock reaction, giving me a false sense of response and killed me further.

‘I am sorry, something came over me’, I apologized, ready to accept all the dirt. She stepped away from me. A man came between us. He was short with a face that looked like a rotten potato.

‘You guys know each other’? He asked her casually. He obviously was not a very aware person.

‘Yes’, she covered her alarm better than me. One could easily tell, her friend was rich from the way he dressed, not taking into account the thick gold chain around his fat neck.

‘Good, in that case, let’s invite him for our anniversary. Take his number, will you?’ He patted her lower back, collected his Johnny walker and excused himself within a minute.

‘Your number please, Ashim would like to invite you for a party’, her eyes were casted down and she looked like she had just lost something very precious.

‘Give me a miss call, that way I get to store your number’. I suggested.

I dictated and she dialed my number. I gave her time in between to press the required buttons. She disconnected soon as my phone responded. I wanted to ask her name to store her number but she was out of there.

I saw her again only in my early morning dream. I took a shower and walked to the café, downstairs for coffee and sandwich. It was here, I received a call from a Sub inspector, park street branch police station. He asked me to come straight over. He needed me with respect to an investigating of a young model’s suicide that took place last night. She was all of twenty four and was engaged to be married. I was on the list of suspects. Mine was the last number dialed on Ms Rabia Khan’s cell phone.

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The Dream Worker

On a lazy Sunday winter afternoon with soft sunshine outside, all you need is a cosy couch and a warm quilt for lovely, humdrum, languid siesta. Anything that disturbs such a snooze can be excruciatingly annoying. And this is exactly what happened to Bumba.

Trrrrrrrrring! Bumba woke up with a start. Muttering curses under his breath; he trudged towards the door to open it. He was all the more annoyed when saw no one outside. Scratching his head and groaning, he took a few more steps ahead to check if there was anyone around the vicinity.

Suddenly he noticed a small red box near the door. Funny it should be there. Nobody ever gifted him anything. Anyway, he picked it up and opened it.

Zooooop! He was sucked into the box the moment he opened it, sucked him in like a vacuum cleaner; as if he was nothing but a whiff of smoke.

Bumba felt himself being drawn in at lightning speed. Everything seems to be whizzing past him in a crazy motion. It seemed like hours before he landed on a firm ground with a slight thud. It took him some time to get a hold on himself.

This was most mystifying place, ever imagined. All kinds of colours splattered all around. Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, Malachite, Gamboge, Razzmatazz, Xanadu and other colours he didn’t even know, existed. Wow, this looked fascinating. He was standing in front of a huge banner that read Dream Merchants Workshop. There were humans and non human things all around him; all of them chattering excitedly.

Everyone - the sponge, the banana, the bottle, the ice-cream, the pizza slices, the trees, and the people - everyone seemed to be in an animated conversation with each other. Some, like him, seemed lost.

All the little things around had grown huge in size, while the huge ones had shrunk; bringing everyone to more or less the same height.

There were stalls and booths everywhere – beautiful dreams, scary dreams, funny dreams, regular dreams, food dreams – the banners on various stalls said.

He noticed a tiny booth in a corner. ‘May I help you,’ it read. There was quite a mob around that booth. Someone was shouting, “First timers, this way; all the first timers come on here.”

Bumba walked up there and stood amongst the crowd of beings. A monstrous looking creature was addressing them. He had one big eye, one big mouth and one big ear on the top of his head. He looked quite cute.

“You all, I presume are first timers here”, he said. The crow standing next to Bumba gave him a smile and a wink.

The monster continued, “Welcome to the dream merchant’s workshop. You all have been handpicked by the dream merchant to be a part of a dream tonight. You will be given options to choose whose dream you wish to be; and what dream. You can give your name and pick up your options from that trapezium stall over there”

From the crowd a zombie raised his hand.

“Yes?” asked the monster.

“Who is the dream merchant?” questioned zombie.

“That cannot be revealed, for security reasons,” said the monster.

Now Bumba raised his hand and asked, “Why have I been chosen, or for that matter, anyone here?”

The monster shrugged. “The dream merchant has his weird ways. He chants something called Eena Meena Myna Mo and selects the dream-workers. It is some superior spiritual stuff,” he said. “It is beyond anyone’s understanding here.”

“Wow, I had no idea such a place existed,” exclaimed Bumba to the elf near him.

She grinned, “I had heard about it, but this is my first time too. It is sure going to be fun,” she said and walked off to collect her options.

Bumba was about to do the same when a huge bottle of cola walked up to him and asked, “Hi, would you care for a chocolate?”

“Sure,” replied Bumba with a smile.

“Gee, thanks mate. This little guy here is quite a handful. Take good care of him,” said the bottle quickly, as he shoved a little bar of chocolate towards Bumba.

Bumba stared in bewilderment as the chocolate gave him a sheepish grin. Before Bumba could protest the bottle had scooted off in the crowd.

“You and I will make a good pair,” said the chocolate as he stuck his gooey hand into Bumba’s arm staining his shirt.

“Hmm,” grunted Bumba with scorn and started walking where the options were being distributed. The chocolate trudged behind him.

Bumba was given four choices: His friend - Bappi, the jamun tree from the back yard, the neighbour’s cat - Billi, his bicycle. He thought for a while and decided to go for Billi. It was just a random choice.

Now there are two things everyone should know:

1. Cats believe in dreams. No, they really believe in it like it is real. Everything that happens in a cat’s dream is, according to the cat, lived by it in its sleeping hours. Hence it is extremely dangerous to fool around in a cats dream.

2. Cats love chocolates. Every single cat in the world loves chocolates. But they are allergic to it. Chocolates drive cats crazy. Crazy to the point of infinity. They can do unspeakable things when they are high on chocolates. Things you and I wouldn’t even think of in our wildest dreams.

Unfortunately, Bumba was unaware of these two rules and so was the bar of chocolate.

They next went to the booth that read Regular Dreams. Bumba really was not ready for any more adventure He wanted a simple lazy dream where he did not have to do much running around.

They were given their dream and also a few instructions. He was told that once his choice wakes up from sleep he will be transported back to his house outside the red box.

So they started preparing themselves for the night. Bumba and the chocolate started building up a dream for Billi.

That night back home when Billi fell asleep, Bumba and the chocolate whiffed in to her mind and started off with the dream.

Billi was lying by the fireplace cuddled up with a ball of wool. Bumba was sitting on the arm-chair with a book and staring at Billi. Billi purred; walked up to Bumba and rubbed her back against his leg. She then skipped up and curled up on Bumba’s lap.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Pushing Billi aside, Bumba got up to answer the door. Someone handed over a box and a chocolate bar to him. As he turned back he noticed Billi sitting on his arm chair. Annoyed, he caught her by the scruff and threw her away on the floor.

This infuriated Billi. The arm-chair had been nice and cosy. She looked at Bumba with a hiss and snarl. He was sitting on the chair again biting into the chocolate bar. She leaped up on him and hit him hard on his face with her paw. The chocolate bar fell off from his hand. Before he could pick it up again Billi jumped on it and gobbled it up….

The chocolate high in the dream had triggered Billi senses. With a big yawn, Billi stretched and woke up. That immediately transported Bumba and chocolate away from the dream merchant’s workshop to the real world.

But the damage was done. Billi was twitchy with the dream she had. She could feel the chocolate taste in her mouth. She also continued to feel angry towards Bumba; rather, she was quite livid.

Next morning when Bappi dropped in to Bumba’s house for a morning cup of tea; Bumba was nowhere to be seen.

Instead Bappi noticed a cat curled up on the armchair. The cat looked at him as she licked some chocolate off her paws.

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Victim

The woman waited in the car. Her gleaming crimson lipstick provided a perfect contrast to the teeth that dazzled in the headlights of the cars coming the other way. Her skin, fair to an extent that it could almost be called pale, somehow made her look more sensuous in a surreal sort of way.

She could see the two men, through with their dinner but immersed in a conversation of sorts; they were still inside the restaurant, but were standing next to the window. She had twenty-twenty vision anyway. Her ample bosom heaved as she took deep breaths. She could not afford to show her impatience.

***

They worked as a pair. One of the two chatted up the victim till late; the other drove past the bar or restaurant or whatever it was. Then, between them, they usually rounded off the victim the way a tiger on a diet does to a barking chihuahua.

Life has not been easy for them. They had tried to seek jobs in Transylvania, but could not break through the paperwork. Transylvanian apartheid is at its peak these days, and being Indians, they did not have a chance.

Then they met each other. It was bloody love at first sight. Their teeth snarled, their innards craved for each other, and when they kissed, they knew it was perfect.

Dejected by the lack of opportunity they decided to come back to India – and take refuge in the innocuous city of Kolkata. Getting day jobs was easier here: nobody would even guess that Indian vampires existed. Sure enough, they ended up finding decent-paying jobs. They typically surprised their colleagues by often turning up before daybreak, but their workplaces were different, meant that they did not arouse suspicion.

After days of living on canned magpie-blood and sucking on to stale pigeon-blood lozenges just for the sake of variety, they finally found access to fresh food: they bought a goat, killed it inside their bedroom, and had their fill. The carcass was thrown to the dogs.

The dogs were grateful to them for their gifts, every now-and-then. After they could save some money, the vampires eventually invested in a double-bed mahogany coffin; the passion became more intense as they licked blood off each others’ lips and mouths, and their flesh merged seamlessly into each other’s nakedness.

Several weeks passed before they realised that animal blood was never good enough to satiate them. They needed the real thing, which was not easy in a big city like Kolkata. They kept to a plan: they would sneak in to a pub, keeping a distance from each other, and make an attempt at wooing the singles. Obviously, they acted depending on the gender of their victims, and texted the partner the moment they managed to coax the victim to visit somewhere.

Once that was achieved, the unsuspecting victim was taken to their dark abode. The victim was never a match for the strong wrists or forearms of the vampires, and was immediately tied to manacles – and kept hanging till the other vampire returned.

Then they went into business, and threw the insipid, bloodless, naked body to the dogs – the dogs that usually stayed up in anticipation – in the middle of the night. Nobody cared to check whether the bits of stray bones on the street were human.

They often laughed among themselves at the policeman who tried to track them down the day he found a stray human ear in the gutter. They had kept his ears as souvenirs since then, inside their coffin, having the occasional giggle once they cuddled up to each other inside it.

Boredom crept in, though: the victims were being acquired too easily. Vampires love challenges, just like scuba-divers or bungee-jumpers. So they lied down in their coffin, cleaned each other’s fingers dry of the teenager’s last liquid remnants, and found a plan after a night’s conversation punctuated by the telltale moans.

It involved a car. They invested in a suave-looking SUV. Obtaining a loan was not difficult, and they had obtained enough money since they never had to spend a farthing on grocery or furniture.

They now decided to pick out people one at a time: one of them would go inside one of the new dining spots, strike a conversation with a person of the same sex, sit on the foyer till it was very late – and when the other person would come along in the car, they would ask for a lift. There were a couple of suspicious security-guards, but a thousand rupees a month was always sufficient.

This was challenging. This involved making people of the same sex stay back only with one’s conversational skills, followed by convincing them to hitch a lift to exactly the same desired car. The outcome was the same – the only difference being the fact that the process was more challenging.

***

It was his turn tonight, though: he was prepared for the occasion. The restaurant was surprisingly empty given that it was a weekend. “This is what happens if you come to the new ones”, he thought with a disappointed face. He looked around, and could not find anyone single – until his eyes fell on a dark, remote corner.

He walked up and put his most innocent smile on display. He knew that with those eyes and that smile, nobody could turn him down. Nobody ever has.

He met the man’s eyes. “May I join you?”

The man grunted. He had a savage, burly look about himself. His frame was huge; the shoulders were broad; the forearms strong; and the biceps bulging under the ancient shirt that was in vogue about seven decades ago. He had blood-red eyes, a tawny mane for a beard that had almost certainly never met a razor, and a bag on his shoulder that definitely contained something like a guitar.

“A musician, eh? I used to play the cello in school,” the vampire lied.

The man grunted again.

This conversation isn’t getting anywhere, the vampire thought. I have to bring up a topic; fashion is certainly not his forte; he doesn’t look too athletic either, and isn’t really interested to discuss music. Let’s try something else for a change.

“You know something – I have acquired something lately. I think it’s real – they claim it’s an original Hussain”.

No luck. More small talk.

“Oh, did I tell you I also own The Mahabharat in Sanskrit – and it’s also written in palm leaves? I mean, it’s the real thing. It’s a collector’s edition.” The vampire lied again.

The eyes lit up, finally.

“Can I see it?” The voice asked in a deep, distant, accented grumble. Did the eyes gleam for a moment?

He had never heard that accent before, but he smiled back with an expressionless face. “Of course you can.”

The dinner was polished off in no time. The man turned out a vegetarian. He did not like garlic, which suited the vampire. Both of them detested garlic, despite the fact that they had been given the required vaccination in their childhood. She prefers vegetarians, he thought as they stood up.



The man turned out to be stocky, but had an enviable physique. He could have passed as a wrestler or a weightlifter, thought the vampire. They struck up a conversation outside the restaurant, and the vampire was surprised at the other man’s vast knowledge of Indian mythology.

“found vctm. cmng out. cm sn”, he texted.

“m wtng outsd :)”, she texted back. “i cn c u”.

***

They walked outside. The man – the gullible one – was already willing to go to their place, so the vampire decided to introduce her as his wife. The Neanderthal grunted gutturally in acknowledgement, and made his way to the backseat with an audible thump.

They drove silently to their place, the vampires restless in anticipation. They cast glances at each other, and caught them licking their own lips, and smiled embarrassedly. It took them a few minutes to reach their place.

The man used his key to open the door, and the woman closed the door behind her when all three were inside. Then they pounced upon the stranger.

The stranger proved to be surprisingly strong. All of a sudden the clumsiness had disappeared. The fluent arm-movements sent the vampires reeling. And then, with surprising agility, he bent down, opened his bag, and brought out a battle-axe with a gleaming blade in one swift movement.

He had almost closed the door behind him after beheading the vampires when he heard the dogs bark. Disgusted, he kept the door ajar, and allowed them in as he disappeared into the night.

Fools, he thought. They never realised that I’m immortal, and I’m here to rid the world of all evil. Nobody messes with immortals.

His mission accomplished, Parashuram deleted the names and pictures of the vampires from his cell-phone, and set off for the rapist warlock in the suburbs.

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2779 AD: Extinction

Adam Elevator Space Base | 62,137 miles above sea level | 2779 AD

Bruce sighed while waiting at the cargo bay for the elevator's arrival. He had been following the same schedule for last 10 years – collecting the cargo sent by his associates on Earth which usually included new test equipments and some belongings sent by his family and friends living below. A taut carbon nanotube composite ribbon was anchored to the platform. It continued a few thousand miles above into the space and finally hooked into a trapped asteroid which acted as a counterweight. He could sense the dampened vibrations of the approaching elevator. He was feeling a bit upset today as on this fateful day, five years back, his dear friend Luke had vanished mysteriously.

Tycho Crater | 100 miles from SpaceX Colony, Moon | 2774 AD

Luke drove his rover through the Lunar highlands covered with regolith, a mixture of fine dust and rocky debris, and reached the source of the strange signal he detected today. He slid down the gentle slope of the crater and started leaping towards its centre. After walking a few miles the dusty terrain started turning smooth and shiny like an ice-floor. He inserted his probe and started examining the floor closely. It turned out to be a super-cooled liquid glass.
“What is this glass lake doing in this crater?” He wondered.
He turned his head upwards and gazed at his home planet. It was looking serene and beautiful.
Suddenly a thought clicked in his mind.
He took his receiver and plugged it into his suit. He told Lina, the computer built into his spacesuit, to analyse the signal with respect to Vasin-Shcherbakov Equations.
After a few seconds.
“Luke. This signal encodes the current satellite image of Earth with an extraordinary resolution of one mile on Earth to one mile on the data transmitted.”
Luke was shocked- “How on Earth is this possible! This crater contains the most gigantic telescope, constantly keeping an eye on us and we never knew. How did we miss it? I must head to the colony and tell Bruce about this.”
As Luke started drifting swiftly towards the rover, he felt a strange presence, as if he was not alone. A dusty breeze blew through his airtight suit. He was shocked at the thought of something penetrating his suit.
The next moment his power-suit turned off.
He tripped.
Turned his head.
Saw a faint silver figure floating in air and never woke up.
The giant lunar telescope was not the first alien technology mankind ever came across. Something similar happened 800 years ago.

Groom Lake | Southern Nevada, U.S. | 1949 AD

The lake was shrinking season after season. Old Timothy Adams was having a dip in the lake when suddenly he felt something big under his feet. He informed the sheriff and soon they pulled out that saucer shaped object. Rumours of this strange object spread and this area was cordoned off quickly. They named it Area 51, a secretive military air force base.
After a few years, disruptive technologies started pouring out in US- Fibre optics, LASERs, Kevlar, Titanium fighter planes, Transistors (the birth of computers)– and some of these totally changed our world. Some technologies took centuries to reverse engineer, like the hydroxyGEN– which could split water vapour in air and provide us both Hydrogen fuel and pure Oxygen.
It still remains a well kept secret that the technologies we boast off today, had their origin in that one saucer which landed on Earth maybe centuries ago.

SpaceX Moon Colony | Maria Levita, Moon | 2779 AD

It was a peaceful lunar settlement, flocked with twenty families as a part of the SpaceX lunar experiment. The colony was a closed ecological system where all nutrients were recycled. It was self-sustainable requiring no Earthly support.
Bruce entered his house. Sam was eagerly waiting for his dad. He was wearing a strange skimpy suit covering his entire body except his head.
“Hey son, look what grandpa sent you.”
It was a slimy fish with orange scales. Swimming to and fro in the container. It looked beautiful.
“Dad, it belongs to which species?”
“I have no clue Sam. Try asking Ela.”
Sam moved his hand and positioned his palm facing the fish.
“Ela, tell me all details you find on this fish.”- He said it on his microphone.
Green rays came out of his palm and started scanning the fish. The rays stopped and Ela, his personal supercomputer, soon arrived at an answer.
“It is an Oranghy also known as the "slimehead". It is slimy and has orange scales, having a typical life expectancy of 150 years. It is found along the North Atlantic coast. It became extinct 50 years back due to overfishing.”
Sam looked at this cute fish and started feeling sorry. Man's inherent nature to dominate the entire planet never changed. As centuries passed, species extinction had continued at an alarming rate due to human activities.

Amazon Desert | Brazil | 2779 AD

What was once 2.1 million sq miles rainforest was now reduced to a desert with just a small patch of land covered with trees. Millions of species residing in those forest were now extinct. An automatic lumberjack came and started logging the final patch.
The moment the last tree touched ground, 2000 orbs left the Gioni Crater on Mars.

Adam Elevator Earth Base | On a Pacific Isle | 2779 AD

“Stephan, today around two thousand silver orbs destroyed all major cities around the globe. A high energy plasma beam emitted from a single orb wiped out an entire city, leaving behind just a rocky terrain. With all major government centres gone, the entire planet and its people are thrown into chaos."- Andy told me.

A day later, everyone, including me, enlisted in the army, in order to protect the Adam Earth Base as that was our last resort to escape this doomsday. It was our last hope.
We took our positions and surrounded the base.

Five hours later, three elevated figures appeared far away. The humanoids looked identical, shaped like an ideal human. We started shooting at them with our laser guns. It was a futile effort.
Their silver suits were made up of technology never seen before-
Nanotech? Biotech?
No.
It was nowhere near as simple as that. Its material was inserted with an integral DNA of living organisms. Customized artificial neurons were working in conjunction with their nervous system. Those metallic suits responded to their thoughts. It was an amalgam of biotechnology and mechatronics. They were controlling it perfectly. Our laser beams were easily blocked by their techno-organic armour which altered itself automatically to create a shield in order to obstruct the trajectory.
They were close. We were scared.
None of my shots were even close. I was just another scientist holding a gun and wearing a power-pack, stupefied by their alien technology. One of them was now floating in air facing me. I shot at him insanely, to no result. He extended his hand fully towards me, keeping his arms straight and locked. His palm a few feet away facing my head. Suddenly he turned and shot a spherical ball towards Andy. The ball appeared out of nowhere on his palm. As if lots of molecules on his palm assembled to form that sphere. As it reached Andy, the sphere disintegrated into the air. Andy's power-pack failed and then a few moments later Andy dropped dead.
I could predict that this superior race had already harnessed Technovores- Synthetic alloys and unknown biological entities that invade the system compromising power source and life out of the cells of the host. The silver Technovore shield was made entirely of nanobots. It had the ability to disassemble itself into a stream of nanites which carries a copy of the entire viral personality, and implying that the whole entity can reconstruct itself from a single unit. It absorbed technology into itself, adding the abilities of consumed technology into its physical being. It was a bio-tech warfare, probably the first and the last mankind would ever see.
The alien turned his head and looked directly into my cold eyes.

SpaceX Moon Colony | Maria Levita, Moon | 2779 AD

Bruce and Sam started running towards the escape pods kept at the edge of the colony. But when they reached it was already too late. The five pods were already carrying eight families. Bruce was holding Sam's hand standing in despair. They could see the SilverMen on the other side of the colony shield.
The pods launched.
SilverMen positioned their palms shooting hundreds of globules into space which disintegrated on contact with the surface of the pods. Three hundred feet above the ground those pods annihilated.
Sam could not bear the sight. He hugged his dad and started crying. Right now he felt just like the Oranghy – alone, entrapped and helpless.
“Dad, are we going to become extinct?”


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A Future World Order

Topic : After World War III, the female survivors decide that, as men caused the war and did most of the fighting, it is simply too dangerous to allow them to be in control of the governments any longer. Men are banned from government and military service and, after a few years, banned from voting, having an education or having a job outside the home. A young boy, depressed by his limited prospects at home, decides to pose as a girl so he can join the navy.

This is a short story

****

‘Daddy I hate this, why can’t I go to school like Sara my sister to learn, play games and have friends?’

John was rolling out the pastry, but the pin instead of rolling on slipped away and disheveled it into a rugged lump. ‘Damn it’, he swore at it and lamented, ‘I will never make it right’.  It rung inside the big kitchen like an echo of his self-doubt that had been cram-ming into him for some time now, the doubt about himself as to how worth his life had become in the new dispensation.  In the previous dispensation-when the roosters ruled the world.- he was a police officer and had earned badges and accolades for keeping law and order in a big city immaculate. He held his both palms, over the rugged pastry lump and doubted, ‘how have they handled live ammunitions once, if they cannot use a silly rolling pin now?’

Mary had earlier messaged him, ‘John, please arrange lunch for two more people; they are my seniors and do not disappoint me this time’. Why can’t she take them to some fancy restaurants, he thought, she knew, I could only disappoint her. He was only doing what she had asked him to do, not on account of his preference, and there was no chance for he getting better at it. Since he received Mary’s message his head was pounding in a headache.

‘Dad, answer me, I want to know it now?’

Job has been asking that question for some time now. John felt pity for his son. Many a time he got himself ready to tell him everything but had retracted doubting whether Job would take them easily or had time come right.

‘Ok, I shall answer you Job, but after lunch; now, how about let me do this pastry. I am trying to make a special dish for lunch, your mummy messaged, there would be two guests for lunch’

‘Is it a promise Dad?’

‘Yes it is’.

John turned on to the pastry. When done with it, he spread an oilpaper over it, rolled it packed into a plastic bag and shoved into the fridge.

Then he opened the deep freezer and stared at the packets of vegetables and non-vegetables he himself had stored in. ‘How could I make that special dish that wouldn’t disappoint Mary?’ he had no idea. In the end he picked up a packet of red mince and thrust it into the microwave before pressing the defrost button.

‘Daddy, I am thinking about you as well, how come that you never get a chance to go outside like mummy? Are you happy here, to stay always in the kitchen and indoors?’

The question brought tears into Johns’ eyes, his son talks like a big man, he had only passed 17; using the apron towel he wiped the tears off his eyes. He wouldn’t show his pain to Job, he was already depressed.

‘You are right, sometimes it frustrates me too, but’

‘Have you tried to get out of here?’

‘No’

‘Why?’

‘That is a big story’

‘You can’t tell me. I am strong enough to hear your story’.

‘Ok, I will tell you everything after lunch’

Job looked happy. The Kitchen Maid by then had finished her round. He pulled open its handle, unloaded its contents -plates, dishes, spoons and glasswares –and stored them away into the designated places in the cupboards. Since the time the father and the son started managing the kitchen they had agreed to share the home chores between them.

He picked up the laundry baskets from the bathrooms, lifted them to the laundry room, sorted the linens according to their soil, loaded the first batch into the washing machine, added soap power and fabric softener, set the dials and switched it on.  Then he moved on to feed the pets- two Labradors and one Ceylon parakeet.  The Labradors wagged their tails and jumped around him while he dropped the pellet feed into their bowls.  The parakeet made a lot of undecipherable noises from its cage, when it saw him.

On normal days, when he was done with his chores and John with his coking, they two settle down with their learning and teaching session. John kept the session a secretive affair and had asked Job to keep it that way. Why should, it be so, Job had asked him many times; but he wouldn’t give a straight answer other than promising, one day he would disclose.

***

That day they did not sit down in the morning for learning, but after lunch.  Job was looking forward to hear that big secret from his father as he had promised when he entered into the learning place. He liked hearing stories.  He was seventeen, if he had gone to school, he would be in grade 10 or 11.

‘Ok dad the lunch was excellent’ Job told to boost up his spirit.

‘But your mommy was not impressed’

‘Why can’t then mummy cook for one day or at least show you how to cook better’

‘Um, she is busy’, Job thought his father said that to please him.

‘But she liked the dessert’.  John was pleased to say that.

When the two were settled, John started the long promised story.

‘It is not a story as such Job, it is the blatant history of our human race, a shameful one though, shameful for the majority of the male population that lived here and lives on, the majority among the lived are now dead and what they did forbids me even to mention their names’.  That was how he introduced it.

Then he carried on and a brief summary of what he told was like this:



In the beginning, there was the land and then came the people. They were modest, respectful, gentle, just, loving and caring. Humanity thrived in its every endeavour. There were good and bad among them; but the good always prevailed over the bad; and the bad bettered themselves or tried to be better.

Perhaps in the process of evolution the evil begot more powerful evil; the evil always wanted to bring calamity into the world.  For that, they created gods, devils and religions.  Gods and the religions ruled over the weak for them and the devils organised the strong and the powerful for them. In the past 3000 years, there happened an incredible increase in the god’s population and in the spread of religions; their secret roles in war and conquer, many haven’t grasped yet. But the nexus between religion and politics is not a secret. One of the lethal discovery of that nexus in the 19th century was racism; it classified humans into super, best, better, worst and useless objects, with females confined to the last.  Females fought against it, but in many cases they could not find success and so, gave up on it. (True many females joined their male counter parts in oppression) Theories of racism and oppression were made and justified, books were written to eulogize discrimination, deprivation and aggression.

According to the best of those theories, occupation and territorial aggression became the right of the civilized and the powerful that belonged to the so called ‘super races’; what evolved out of that was the most criminal human on human exploitation-colonisation. World Wars happened as a direct consequence to that. Already three WWs, I, II and III were fought and the last one started in 2030 and ended in 2032; it would have continued if the supply of trained men hadn’t stopped.

One notable thing was that all the three WWs and the situations leading to them had happened under the leadership of men. All organisations and institutions that directly or indirectly involved in carrying out and supporting the wars were men or women who thought like men.

So when the WW III ended, the majority females all over the world got united and decided to take over the world leadership on condition that men were banished from all positions of leadership and responsibility; meant they were banned from all public places and offices.

Now, 13 years have passed after the banning was finally ratified into orders and in the meantime, females have made remarkable improvement if not turned this world into a perfect one. The most important of their reformation was to banish all world leaders including heads of states, into distant islands where they were asked to settle down with the farming under female supervision.  Another excellent action from their side was the banning of all religions and of the god men and the women, the leeches that thrived on fabricated lies like human sins, otherworld, heaven and hell and the destructive constructions like holly rituals, holly cross, holy war, terrorism, etc were also packed away into the farmlands.  As a result, now the food-shortages and poverty have become a thing of the past.

***

Job gave a big sigh when John had finished the narration.

‘So Dad, are you saying that this is a fair dispensation’

‘It is, son; if the men had continued ruling this world, it would have become a lost land by now’

‘But what have I done, dad, why am I banned from having an education?’

‘You are right. They are unfair on you and many like you. So I have a made plan for you’

‘What plan dad?’

John unveiled his plan before Job.  A week ago, he watched on the TV that a girl’s navy recruitment team was visiting a nearby place, in the coming week.  He wanted Job to appear for the recruitment.

‘But how could I, I am a boy’

‘Listen you become a girl’

‘How?’

‘You can be Sara, your sister. Look at this’, he pulled out of his apron pocket, Saras’ ID book, opened its font page; there was a photograph of Sara.  ‘If you change your hair style a bit, you are Sara’.

Job looked at Saras’ photograph, Sara was 15 when she took that photograph; she looked like a boy in it because there was no make up on her face. It showed she was in a tea-shirt.

‘But what would Sara do?’

‘She can report to the police that her ID is lost, when she finds it out, and once the police had established that it was lost she could apply for another one’

‘This is the only chance for you, you have to make it good’

Job thought, his father was right.

‘This is Sara’s old cell phone’. Job took the phone in his hand and turned it around; so far he was not allowed to use a cell phone.

‘From today on, you are Sara, you have to mentally and physically accept that, is that ok’

Job agreed.

‘So next week, I am leaving you Dad?’ his words got chocked at his throat.

He moved towards John and hugged him. The separation was unbearable to both.

‘Who is going to help you once I am gone, dad?’; he was sobbing.

‘I will manage; Job and you too will manage. You are a brave boy’

‘And when I am gone, what would you tell mom’

‘Don’t worry; I will tell her something, what, I have to find out. But you get ready for the recruitment’.

***

At the Navy recruitment centre a week later:

There were more than 10 applicants. They were asked to take seats in a hall and were given application forms to fill in their personal details. Job filled in all his details searching through Sara’s ID book.

Once they had filled in the application forms, each had to face an informal interview. After the interview they were seated back in the hall and in a short while the result was announced. Sara Johnson Smith was one among the new recruits.

____________
Written By : Prasanna Raghavan
Original Post at : India Blooming

Jon 'n' Snow: Trippin' Together!

The constant murmur of her voice startled him. He looked sideways. There she was- in dazzling red and black clothing, her eyes only staring at him, longing, waiting. "I am coming for you my louuuuuuuvvve!" he started running towards her , arms wide-spread, as everything around him started swirling in slow-motion. It appeared as if she was moving away from him."no..No...don't go, don't go!!" he started panting, and ran faster. "Babyyyyyyyyy!!!" he cried out loud. And she stopped moving away from him, and in that moment, he forgot everything about himself. Soon, he could feel her heavy breath falling on his face, and as soon as he advanced to kiss the love of his life, she purred.

"meowww"

"Err..babe?" he was shocked. "MEOWWWWWWWW" she purred a bit more and slowly started pawing his face. Now it was his turn to run.

Miles away from this love-story, a man in his undies was drooling on his new-found bed, with his cat pawing him. The cat was probably famished. And the man-well, he was in his own world , dreaming about his love again. The cat gave one final blow and almost managed to make a D on the man's forehead, and that was enough for him to wake up.

"WHADDA--"

Jon hurled his feline in a fit. It went flying across the bed yet it still managed to land on its limbs. In style. 'A cat has nine lives' Snow purred to himself. "Why do you always have to mess my face of all the other parts of my body?" Jon screamed. "Yea right, feed me or next time I will mess with the appropriate parts of your body you useless scum!" Snow purred. Jon sighed , while trying to rub off the D. "I know buddy, I am of no good. Not in a place like this, where everything is so different....IWANNAGOHOMMMMMMMMMMME!" Jon sobbed.

                                                    *                     *                        *

Things were not this different for Jon & Snow. They too had a great life to live-girls, booze, TV , their Wii and most importantly, the huge farmhouse their eccentric uncle had left for them. Eccentric to the world, but a genius to Jon. He worshiped the man. "One day, I will take you to places where you will be the King!" he would tell young Jon. Jon did not know that his uncle was up to something similar-for real.

It was Saturday night. Jon's buddies went off to catch the latest adult movie that was a rage in town-Wife of Pi. They say it has got the never-seen-before scenes with a Tigress in water and what not. Damn tempting isn't it? But Jon decided to stay back with Snow and do certain stuffs that he always enjoyed doing when he was alone. It required skillful use of both of his hands, some screwing-unscrewing and the likes. Yes you got it right, he would 'smoke up' 2-3 joints with Snow. And Snow would just stare at him, unable to decipher what would follow-a night full of wacky philosophies , a night devoted to ruthless gorging.
    But that night , Jon had other plans as well. Ever since they moved to uncle's farmhouse, they had not really explored the place properly. His uncle went off to an expedition and had never returned. Soon afterwards he was declared dead. He couldn't quite make it to the funeral, but wished he could see him off one last time. "Remember Jonny boy! The world is ruthless, the world is crazy! They call me mad, you know why? Because I am doing exactly what will make them run for their money."
Jon's uncle was an Experimental Physicist who would also wrote a cool sci-fi blog. "One day, Jonny boy, you'll see! You will be the King!"

So where were we? Ah yes Saturday night. As Jon had moved to this new place, he learned that the place is a child's dream. There were so many stuffs- gadgets, books, instruments, more books, and the likes. Jon was intrigued by the fact that his uncle managed to put all this up together. He was a bit proud as well. Ever since his parents died, his uncle was the only family he had.

That morning, Jon was checking out the place. The place was huge- it was enough for at least 20 people to live together. Snow would as usual play with his ball of wool. Jon did not really worry much about Snow. To him , he was quite a smart cat. "What is this room?" Jon exclaimed as he came across an entrance, hideously covered with a drape.

At the top of the door, there was a sign that looked suspiciously  similar to his favorite hand gesture. Yes you guessed it right again- it looked like a namaste . "Wonder when did uncle take fancy on Indian mannerisms huh!!?" he thought. He figured that the door was locked. He started jamming the lock and it wasn't giving away. It gave him aplenty of dirt on his tee, though.

Irritated, he went back a few feet and with his left forearm nudged forward, he started running towards the door. Only this time as he was about to hit the shackles of the door, Snow, his so-called 'smart cat' pounced on him from one side, and off they went  crashing on the door as it surprisingly opened normally. Jon had heard a brief *beep* sound while they crashed the door.

"Snow you stupid creature! Owww my back hurts badly."
Jon managed to sit up and took a look at his surroundings. It was full of shady posters of movies he did not watch. Chicks in skimpy clothes, fat women with guns on them, hooligans groping  women- they all were there. "What the hell are these movies?" he wondered. A typical poster of a man in disco suits caught his eyes. "Disco Dancer..hmm..who is this actor?" he thought. Suddenly, a voice came cracking from the ceiling.

"HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!"

It was his uncle's voice. Jon was startled.

"JONNY BOY! YOU MADE IT IN HERE!" the voice screamed.

"If you are hearing this recording, then it means I have left this world for the place beyond the imagination of the people of this world! Yes my boy you are right! I have found the place- the place where you will be the king and I will be your guardian! WE WILL RULE THE LAND TOGETHER! HA HA HA HA!"

Jon looked at Snow. "Tell me Snow," he asked. " Are my eyes red?"

"purrr..."

"Am I high?!!"

"purrr...."

"I am asking questions to my cat. I am definitely high." Jon sighed. "But I don't remember smoking up! When did--" he was cut short by the recording.

" Time to join me, Jonny Boy! 3! 2! 1!"

And suddenly, Jon saw the walls of his room begin to rattle. They started folding up like window blinds and the shady movie posters started mixing up to ghastly red hues everywhere. "Whadda--?" he exclaimed, and before he knew it, he felt a massive push on his shoulders and he went flying towards the wall with that 'Disco Dancer' poster. He could hear Snow purring madly alongside him and in the next moment , the poster in from of him vanished to nothingness. It was replaced by darkness ahead, as they kept getting pushed in the forward direction. Suddenly the force behind them stopped pushing. Jon panicked. He was panting heavily and looked at his cat.

"Mew.."

Snow's pointy whiskers indicated he was scared to death. And just then, the ceiling below them gave way and they started falling.



"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Jon was laughing, crying, puking, and sweating at the same time. He even farted a little. Snow was vigorously  throwing his limbs in every direction it could. Suddenly they landed on a base full of trash- in conveniently slow motion.

They woke up after a few hours. Jon got up , shocked. He looked around. It was night time. The place  looked funny. The littered roads, the smelly alleys- there was a strange harmony of filth in the air. He could not locate Snow anywhere. He started getting up and walking towards what seemed like a bar nearby.

The bar was shadier than he had expected. It seemed to be full of dopeheads. 'I am a disco dancer!' was playing in full volume, though he couldn't figure out the rest of the lyrics. And then he saw something that blew his balls away.

Snow was sitting on a high dais on what seemed to be like a richly decorated throne. There were a gazillions of attendants around him  , taking care of his whiskers like a newly crowned king. All of a sudden, Snow's attention went towards Jon. "Mew!!!" it shrieked and started moving its paws in Jon's direction.Everyone suddenly looked at Jon.

"OUR KING HAS DESCENDED!" they all cried in unison. They all got hold of Jon , took him up on their shoulders and placed him on an even bigger throne next to Snow. Jon got confused. But then he saw two pretty ladies who were apparently the king's official escorts, and all his confusion went away.

"Welcome to Merrytopia O King! I am BS,your humble Prime Minister" a middle-aged man came forward from among the crowd.

"Err..Hello BS.." Jon was finding it hard to control his laughter. "H-how are you?"
"Finest as an old wine, your Majesty!"
"Good good. Er..do you know anything about my uncle?"
"I do, your Majesty!"
"Well then take me to him!"
"I would your Majesty. But first I must lay down the rules of this land that a King must follow."

BS took out a scroll, opened it, took a USB drive out , dropped the scroll on the ground, took out his tablet from his robe, and plugged the USB in.

"(ahem).. O King of Merrytopia,
Live Long and Prosper! (brief applause follows)
For the sake of taking over as the King of this land, a king must follow the Golden Rule: Impose one law on this land. Only after that will he be able to rule as a king."

"And what if I don't follow the orders?" Jon quipped.
"You cannot do that O King.." BS said calmly.
"Why not? I can just refuse to do this! Coming here was not my choice at the first place!" Jon protested.

"What's done is done. You must follow the rules. That's how Merrytopia works. If you fail to do so, you shall be put to the dungeons where you would be made to watch Ram Gopal Verma movies."
"Who the hell is Ram Gopal Verma?"
The whole crowd gasped in unison on hearing this.
"You don't know RGV? You don't know nothing about Bollywood?!!!"
"Err..I know Hollywood..where is Bollywood?"
The whole crowd gasped in unison once again.

"Bollywood! The Hindi Film Industry! That's in India! They make the coolest of movies! We survive on their songs, their dances are our folk dances, their tragedies is the reason for our grief..BOLLYWOOD IS THE WAY OF OUR LIVES!" BS was almost choking with emotions.

"Ha ha. What crap.." Jon murmured.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY YOUR MAJESTY?!!"
"I said we should CLAP!" Jon was beginning to understand those shady posters at his uncle's room now. He saw that playing along was the only way out.

"Alright, if I must follow the rule, then very well."
The crowd became expectant.
"So tell me O Wise King, what law would you impose on us?" BS was excited.

Jon cleared his throat, looked around, and smiled.
"The law that I shall pass is: Legalize Marijuana!"

The crowd was puzzled. Snow gave a brief "mew" while looking at Jon with disbelief.

                                                        *                     *                        *

Weeks passed. The people embraced the new law. Now what happened is that people started getting high all the time. They stopped giving a shit about anything in their world except arranging for and rolling the joints. Philosophical opinions started flooding everywhere. Some would agree on to an opinion and the next moment an outsider would come and oppose, and suddenly everyone would start opposing the theories.

Jon observed that administration was getting out of hand. Even BS would now talk nothing but BS. Jon couldn't believe that even Snow would show up with red eyes at times. Weed used to be Jon's way of life but now, it seemed that his law was not fully accurate. He needed to do something about it.

"I want to change the law."  he called BS for a counsel one day.
"You..haha how do I put it..heeh..cannot!" BS had already stopped adding 'Your Majesty' a few days back.
"Are you high, as we speak?"
"No no Jonny Boy I am not!"
"Then why would you-- wait what did you call me?!"

"Jonny Boy!"

Jon was surprised and confused. He had his doubts initially about BS but power and freedom had blinded him. BS gave out a crackle of laughter, a loud and wide laughter. A familiar laughter.

"This is why I had to create this world of mine! Our world would not take me, so I wanted to escape!" BS began his tale , which you all must be dying to know by now.

"On my journey with my experiments, I had finally found a way to a parallel universe. Only that it was in ruins, as if it was abandoned by its people. I was happy to find the resources of this world-all at my disposal, but after a while, I started getting bored. Bored because, I missed conversations with another human being. I was upset about this, and realized something should be done! Then I thought , why not get some people from our world, who wanted to escape , to break free, and to live as equals, without caring much for survival.

 And I knew just the people to pick. I took up all the slum-dwellers of every populated countries of the world. This might sound outrageous , Jonny Boy, but trust me, nobody cares if a certain amount of these low lives suddenly disappear from the face of the Earth! So the plan was perfect- I was to give these people a new place to live, a new world where they would face no limitations, and of course I planned to rule this world, along with you."

Jon did not know what to say. Snow purred a little.

"Why do you look so startled? Did you not always wanted to live in a place like this?!!!"

"NO Uncle! I have my friends back home! I have a life that's full of excitement!"
"Oh c'mon, your life blows. I have seen how you live- borrowing cash from your friends, roaming here n there, trying to score a chick but ending up with your Cat at the end of the day. You call that an exciting life?!"
"I don't care! However bad it is, it is MY life! So I can choose how to lead it!"
"Well, now that you are here, you cannot go back. Because I haven't yet designed a way to get back to the other side..."
Jon wanted to punch his uncle on his throat.
".... and since you have revolted, it is important that you are put away somewhere, where you cannot create any problems..." BS smirked.
" You cannot do that! And wait a minute, why could I not recognize you all this while? Why not on the day I came here?"
BS smiled.
"Because, I had mixed a 'synthesized' form of weed in the air of my farmhouse by the vents. You see I got inspired from that 'Balam Pichkari' song from that  latest Bollywood movie. So anyone who entered that place would unknowingly get high and stay that way. I had developed the specimen in such a way that it would not interfere with your day-to-day functioning, but if you encountered any illusion , your mind would go on a trip , getting you high. So the illusion would work as a trigger to get you high. Hence I had those illusions put in place when you had entered the 'Portal Room' . Those Bollywood movie posters, they have immense effect on getting you high, you see!"

"Whadda-- and stop with your Bollywood references already!" Jon was angered. Suddenly, he saw Snow pouncing towards his uncle. This is it. He had to make a run for it. As BS fell on the ground, Jon grabbed Snow under his arm and ran away from the bar that now masqueraded as a fully functional Palace.

Now you'd wonder, 'Dude! That's bullcrap! How could he run away so easily? Why would BS not do something to make it difficult for them? What BS are you feeding us!!'  well you see, weed was legal in that land. And when that happens...need I say more?

So Jon & Snow ran . They tried to hide, to stay in disguise for days. They begged , borrowed, stole, and tried doing whatever they could from getting caught. This is how they landed in this single-room apartment.

*back to the present*

 "...IWANNAGOHOMMMMMMMMMMME!" Jon sobbed. He knew his efforts were futile. The only thing that he failed to understand is that his uncle had elaborated everything in detail, except for the Portal Room. Could it be because it was a weak link? The Achilles' Heel of his uncle's plan? "What a madman.." he murmured. Suddenly he realized, he wasn't high anymore. He checked Snow's eyes. He wasn't high as well. This actually gave him some motivation. "Perhaps the hunger...wears off the effects ?" he wondered. " I don't believe the fact that uncle did not develop a way back to our world. He is crazy but he is not impractical for all I know, Snow."

"purrr.."

"And so, the portal to the other side has to be here somewhere! THAT'S IT! We have to find the portal Snow!"

"purrr.."

"Yeah I know I  am in my undies. Let's get covered up and start searching!" Jon was determined. And in few minutes, they took off.

Jon roamed in the streets of Merrytopia. The streets looked highly under-developed. Obviously, the people here did not care how they lived, where they lived. They just wanted to live as equals, get their hands on day-to-day resources and stay merry. Also, the whole city looked extremely bland, except the bar-cum-palace areas. They looked -how to put it- very colorful. Almost like those posters that he had seen earlier.

And he failed to understand when did his uncle pick up this liking for Bollywood movies. "Could be when he went to Asia to collect people.." he kept wondering as it suddenly struck him. He had seen a poster of Disco Dancer, the one similar to the poster in the Portal Room. Only that this poster was there at a public theater- which would remain jam-packed day and night.  " They screen the same movie everyday, yet these weirdos keep visiting the place like pilgrims. " He tried to test his theory. With a convincing disguise( he did not need much work as the guards were stoned) , he entered the movie theater premises. Snow was tucked inside his robes, and he pushed the swarm of dopeheads as he inched nearer to the poster. He was blinded with hope so much so that he failed to notice that it is getting too easy for him and Snow to escape.

Back in our world, in the farmhouse, Jon's friends were trying hard to get Jon back from the 'trip' .

________

Written By : Soumya Mukherjee

Original Post : The Placid Rambler