Prologue
To jump or not to jump.
As he climbed the boundary wall of the bridge, he looked below at the river. At this time of summer, ganges looks more like a thin sheet of mirror. Static and shallow, but camouflaging itself with an impression that there’s a whole world inside it.
I can't swim. He looked around to ensure there was no fisherman in water to save him. Even the ghats around were stranded. Will I hit the bottom of the river? I should jump head first to ensure that my skull breaks open if it’s a shallow rocky surface down there. All calculations were perfect. He looked to his right. No signs of traffic. On a usual morning it would be normal to spot a truck full of sand running for some construction site blowing the dust off into the air. It would be normal to see some municipal worker washing off the fresh pool of urine on the bridge created by the passersby who individually deemed the corner of side-rail to be suitable for urinating.
There is this strange thing about mornings. Sometimes they are fresh with mixed fragrance of young flowers (not urine), mild sun-rays of new sun from the distance and a soft white thin layer of mist. But there also are times when the paleness of the backdrop colors every thing lifeless, the bird-less-ness of the sky suggests death and mourning and every hope of a new morning turns into a long wait for the darkness.
This morning smelled of stale urine from an old enough pool created and frequented by passersby.
He looked at the left breast pocket of his shirt.
Patna Municipal Corporation
Ramdin
The uniform had grown dull in color aged by constant exposure to cheap detergent. The deep dirt stains all over the shirt suggested that it was not washed for a long time. He heard a buzz made by a truck approaching from distance on the right side. The speeding truck was running around a pale bubble of dust originating from it. As it approached, his eyes followed the truck passing from right towards the left till the angle he could twist his head.
Pagla gaye ho kaa bhaiya. The bubble of dust screamed as it sped away. He turned to the right and looked towards the trail of the bubble receding away from him. As the dust settled, he saw a shadow standing on the boundary wall far enough not to recognize the face. She was looking into his direction, as if carrying the same question as he did about her.
She looked at him for a prolonged moment and turned to face the river. She closed her eyes. She was dusky, round faced with full cheeks. Her hair, long enough to cover half of her upper body was tied and well done with streaks of expensive hair color on select strands. She wore last night's mild makeup which still looked fresh. Her red tee top, blue jeans and black strap sandals gave her an alien look for the eastern side of Patna. She opened her eyes and looked towards her left and then her right. She wasn't sure who among them had come there first. The municipal corporation worker could have come before her or even the guy on the right side, distant enough for her to fail to see the face.
He had also noticed her. But just as people notice huge mountains on a painting. Just as a part of backdrop rather than an anomaly. He was too much into his thoughts to notice anything. The no despair looks supplemented by the average looks of a tall, dark, long faced build with hair elegantly parted from around the middle of head made him look like a man with a story. His black full sleeve casual short shirt and branded blue jeans, half covering the Reebok sign on his shoes gave him a familiar look of the native aliens, a phenomenon very common in Bihar.
What possibly could be a reason for him to be here? She had other things to worry about.
None of them tried to influence what was going to happen.
I am sure they also have a strong reason as I do…The thought echoed.
The moment had come… the moment to end it all... the moment to make a strategic jump to break open the skull… to release the overstock of recurring thoughts.
Thoughts about the last day… the day that defined their life… or their death maybe.
****************************************************************************************************************************
The Fireball’s Story People run towards wherever they see light, success and prosperity. They run from villages to towns, towns to cities and cities to metros. But they leave trails. A young man leaves his parents and memories behind at home, a successful kid leaves his name on the honor roll at school, a laborer working in a city leaves a permanent address for money-orders behind.
Cities are no different. Patna has been running towards west like a fireball, leaving all the ashes behind in the east and lighting up the western space. As one travels in Patna from west to east, traces of ashes keep getting prominent finally ending up in a pile of ashes, a widespread disarray of remains of old Patna, oblivious of the west. Restaurants with healthy breakfasts transform back into jalebi waalas with morning crowd, cozy 3-BHK apartments into 1-cabin slums and shopping centers into series of small 7 ft by 14 ft shops.
She was driving her fireball from her office at Gandhi Maidan towards Boring Road. A hurriedly packed bag with few clothes peeking out from the sides was lying on the back seat. She kept pressing redial on her phone. A drop of sweat was struggling with the cold blow from A/C to grow bigger and depart her forehead. The long wait at Dak Bunglow traffic signal gave some extra stretches to the forehead of her already worried face. She emptied her can of diet coke, lowered the window glass and tossed it outside on the road. The can rolled its way to the footpath dodging rickshaws and scooters till it got kicked in the middle of traffic signal chaos by a small kid half clad in dirty torn clothes.
“Aye ladka. Maar khayega kya.”
Inside the fireball the mobile phone started playing “Bring me to Life” by Evanescence. She saw ‘Sid calling…’ blinking on the screen and picked up the phone.
“Rachna where are you?” It was a firm polished male voice.
“I am on my way to your place. Where have you been, you didn’t even come to bank today. I thought we were meeting at Friends’?”
“Sorry, I was busy the whole day. Come there now. I am waiting for you.”
“Busy??? Ok I am coming.”
And the whole world changed. The sweat dried off leaving the mild makeup as fresh as it was. All the stretches on her forehead vanished leaving no mark behind. She took a U-turn and sped towards Friends’ Café on S P Verma Road.
Even in the western Patna, café culture was yet to catch up. The best that people understood of café was a small 10 chambered air conditioned shop playing bollywood songs of early nineties with young kids checking out exam results and mails or chatting with an alias of some priya4u while checking out some usually unavailable content.
Friends’ Café was a small café in the basement of an unnamed shopping complex. As she parked, she looked at the paanipoori stall near the sidewalk.
“Okay you say that I don’t give you enough time. Then let’s make this new café our hangout. It’s not pleasant to see narrowed eyes of customers and staff through the glass door of my chamber.” She said in a thick voice with mouthful of paanipoori.
“Oh!!! So now this is Assistant Manager, HSBC Patna Branch talking to me?”
“Yes Mr. Chief Manager.” They laughed it away
“O Madam… dekh ke chaliye!!!” An annoyed old man screamed as she was about to crash into him.
“Oh!!! Sorry Uncle.”
The lady at the counter smiled at her as she spotted her usual table. Friends’ café was as usual empty.
“Should I bring the usual order for two of you?” A cream cold coffee for Rs 70 is expensive by any standards at Patna.
“Surprise us today, it’s a special day.” She smiled back. And she sank back into her dreams.
“Sid… why don’t we run away. You only suggested it first. Let’s do it. My parents are never going to come out of this caste and region based shit. They say ladka kayasth bhi hona chaiye aur Bihar se bhi. And now they have found this religious boring IAS guy for me. I don’t want to marry this guy. Let’s run away Sid. We will take leave for some days from office and run to your home in Kolkata. Your parents are open-minded, they will agree.”
“What are you saying Rach? Uh… Ok let me talk to my parents. I know they don’t have objections but running away is a big decision.”
And then a smile broke on the left side of her lips creating an indentation on the cheek.
“Let’s do it!!!”
She was rotating the expensive shining bracelet in her left hand with red stones engraved into it.
“Oh! Another gift???”
“This one is to match your new red tee top.”
Her eyes moved to the gate from distance as he walked inside. His huge, athletic body and a long face with subtle smile always made her fall in love with him all over again. And then his usual nod while greeting her with “Hey Rachs” always drew her back into awe. She indeed was madly in love with him.
But today was different. He looked grave.
Ya its normal to get tensed in times like these. But it will all be fine. We will make our happily ever after happen.
She had expected him to be in the shirt she had gifted instead of this blue shirt.
“I hate it when you wear blue shirt and so I have brought you this black shirt.”
“Ok Ma’am. I would wear it the day I convince you in running away with me and you pack your bags…”
She had planned to laugh as they did that day. This… was not the way she had planned.
“Whats the matter Sid?”
“I am sorry Rachna…”
“Its ok to get tensed but I am angry with you for wearing…”
“…I can’t come with you. I think its time we stopped seeing each other”
“… this stupid blue shirt… of… yours…” She dragged last few words to complete her sentence with broken voice.
The smile on her face had given way to a blank yet meaningful expression. The indentation on her cheeks had sunken into the skin turning pale, her eyes had formed a film of water thickening on the lower side and her lips were struggling to part to burst out some unknown unsure words. It looked like a sea, ready to explode but calm out of misjudgment of its potential.
Why Sid… how can you do this… What am I supposed to do now…
The whole air was filled with the implied words still unspoken… the implied questions still unanswered.
After 10 unspoken minutes, he got up.
“What would you do now?” He asked in a hurried shaking voice while picking up his bag to depart. He seemed to be ashamed of asking this question.
She forced a look straight into his eyes cutting through all his courage. He lowered his eyes.
“I have someone else to run away with.” The first brimming drop broke its limits to run down the cheeks unsure of what to run into.
He walked out of the café leaving her behind. Leaving those missing indentations in the cheeks behind… leaving that matching silver bracelet behind… leaving the hurriedly packed bag behind… behind at their daily hangout… Friends’ Café.
The fireball had turned backwards to kiss the ashes. It had lost its light, its fire. A rolling tear was enough to put it out. She sped her car through Ashok Raj Path into the land of ashes. She held the open half empty bottle of just bought vodka by her side with one hand while holding steering wheel with the other.
She had made her plans. Yes she had the Ganges to run away with. She would jump off the bridge into her arms. Or maybe she would spend night in the car to cry every tear out before jumping off. She wanted to die with a smile. She always had. Twelve hours were enough to dissipate every tear into the darkness. A huge tree in the middle of the road near Patna College brought her consciousness back. She turned the wheel with a jerk to avoid a collision just missing to run over a man on the road.
“Dekh ke chalao Madam!!!” The man screamed.
The fire ball with no more fire sped away into the ashes leaving behind a cloud of dust… and him.
*************************************************************************************************************************
The Genius’s Story He stood there for a moment, looking beyond the speeding fireball… These were his first words in last 24 hours.
The genius just spoke!!!
The sms beep on the old mobile in his right hand caught his attention. He cleared the bloodstains from the corners of the phone while opening inbox.
"Dr. Rajesh wants to talk to you. Its urgent."
Unwilling to talk, he typed an sms to Dr. Rajesh while walking past the cows by the main gate of Patna College into the college campus. The evening sun had painted the sky red. The red old paint on the main building gave it looks of a color palette, with patches of color here and there… red, white, algae green, cement gray and black from the spray paint messages of AISA (All India Students Association)… The old British construction gave the buildings an aura of some old retired army general, lost in the glory of his history, barely listened to by anyone. Some kids were playing cricket in the playground by the building with cheap bats and tennis balls screaming their way to the center on every appeal. Another kid was admiring his kite high above in the sky while holding the last few inches of the string tight in his fist… His kite was flying the highest.
“Cut it loose, let it go.”
The genius spoke again!!!
“What? Are you mad?” The kid ignored him.
He waited for a while and proceeded. He walked along the road by the playground towards the ghat, occasionally looking up at the kite. Maybe wondering what the kite can do to escape.
Patna College Ghat is an old unattended ghat perhaps intentionally left without a purpose. It has no usual temples or memorial statues. It’s not even used as cremation ground. However it has its own guests.
As he walked past the shed towards the stairs leading to the river, he saw an old couple sitting by the side of the shed popping roasted peanuts and talking with long pauses in between… perhaps discussing about their kids in Bangalore or Mumbai. Or maybe discussing about the doctors they have to visit the next day for old age diseases. There was another young man looking past the river at the other side, holding a question paper from morning exam, oblivious of the human presence around, waiting for it to grow dark maybe.
He sat on the first step from the top and looked at his palm that read in fading ink ‘Forget Me Forever’. The smell of roasted peanuts had filled the ambience.
“Yes, one Peanut Masala also.” He screamed into the ears of the waiter at loud Purple Haze in Bangalore while lifting his half empty mug of beer.
“So did you talk with your parents about us?” She spoke blankly, as if knowing the answer.
“Not yet.”
"Are you going to talk face to face when you go home this time?"
"No. I am rather preponing my departure date."
“What? Why? Why can’t we get married before you go attend your school?”
“You won’t understand even if I explain.”
“So Mr. Genius thinks I am a retard? Mr. IIT and now Harvard genius…”
“I didn’t say that.”
[Pause]
“Akash I can’t wait, my parents are already talking about a potential alliance.”
“Then go get married. I can’t marry now, it’s a big distraction.”
“You know what that means…?”
“What?”
She snatched a pen from the waiter taking order from next table and forced his palm open to scribble.
As she walked away, he looked at her through the bottom of the mug while emptying the beer.
He looked at the Bridge close to eastern horizon. Looking like a small rope with lots of ants walking over it, crossing each other. The rope…
“Maa… is it ok if I take this rope?”
“Beta... sab kucch tumhara hi to hai… take whatever you need.”
“Cut the crap maa..”
[Pause]
So two years haan? Would you be back after that?
“No Maa… I need to pay the loans back so it will take 3-5 more years. I would call everyday. I have setup the laptop for you. You remember how to do the video chat right?”
“Your dad would know.”
“Where’s dad?”
“He has gone to the doctor, had to go alone as you couldn’t take him.”
“I had to pack my stuff maa. Anyways I am really running out of time. Need to leave in 5 mins.”
“Would you come and visit us?”
“Ya I would.”
The sms tone on the old phone brought him back from his thoughts.
“There isn’t much that we can do. I don’t think he would survive. We did all we could. I am sorry. –Dr. Rajesh”.
A drop of tear departed his eyes and dropped on the mobile screen blurring the word ‘don’t’.
“What’s the matter maa. I am yet to reach airport. I told you I would call once I reach.”
“Beta your dad… accident…”
As she collapsed while speaking on phone, someone in the crowd murmured “That’s their son... Akash. He’s a genius.”
He flipped the mobile to locate the sticker that was never removed... 'Happy Birthday Dad.'
Up above a kite was sinking, the same one that the kid was flying. The free fall and the drift took the kite above the river. The kite descended into the mirror-like surface of the river to meet its reflection. It floated on the surface with the river. It had lost its flight, height and the pace.
He got up and started walking. The old couple looked at him. His branded attire and expensive shoes gave him the true looks of a native alien.
His parents must be proud of him.
“Auto!”
“Kahan”
“Gai Ghat… Bridge ke paas.”
And he sank into the seat besides the shabby looking man in an old municipal uniform.
The auto was on its way to the place… The place where they later stood parallel to each other. Unknowingly.
**************************************************************************************************************************
The Dull Uniform’s Story “Sab road pe kachra bhar gaya hai… kab khatam hoga hadtaal ho?” Asked the auto driver in a loud voice without turning back.
The man in gray municipal uniform looked above in the rear view mirror. The auto driver was still looking at him eyes full of questions. The man ignored the driver and looked out towards his right. He could see a pile of waste and a pool of drain water on the other side of the road.
A pile of flesh and a pool of blood.
He looked back at his uniform.
Patna Municipal Corporation
Ramdin
All the blood clots on and under his vest were strategically hidden behind the uniform he wore. It was difficult to predict the source and timeline of the blood stains. The auto driver had also moved on by then and concentrated on dodging other autos to win the race into the ashes. Ramdin sank back into his seat. This was the longest day in his life, although unfinished.
“Kidnap kiye ho! Hadtaal mein naya dhandhaa shuru kiye ho! Bolo bitua ko kahan rakhe ho nahi to kal bhor nahi dekhoge.”
“Sir hum kucch nahi kiye hain. Hum gareeb ko phasaaya ja raha hai.“ His shaky voice had a touch of unprovable truth.
Arre o bhaiya, aise nahi bolega thoda iske badan pe khoon ke nishaan to lagao tab maanega.
“Ah.“ He blurted out of pain as the auto jumped on a bump. Perhaps the bleeding just started again somewhere. Everyone on the auto gave him a stare.
“Kaa ho bhaiya… Tempoo pe kabhi baithe nahi ho kaa.” The driver was perhaps getting back at him for that unanswered question. Ramdin gave him back by ignoring the question again. The annoyance of the driver came out in the form of a sudden jerk of accelerator.
“Ee kidnapping ko sab dhandhaa bana liya hai. Saala poora duniya mein Bihar phamus ho gaya hai inke karan.” The inspector cracked a satire at Ramdin as he sat on the floor.
His hands were tied together with a thick rope tied on the other end to a window grill. It was a small interrogation room at Patna College Thana. The walls wore old peeling whitewash. The old wooden furniture was randomly arranged as if they had found a place for themselves rather than someone placing them. The room opened into bigger main hall surrounded by a series of cupboards, brimming with remains of old files standing like old preachers surrounding the guru, the proud old chair of inspector. The empty lockups barely visible on the other side of the hall seemed to be looking at Ramdin with a hope that he would be placed in one of them.
“Sir hum kucch nahi kiye hain. Ye sab humko phasaya ja raha hai. Hum hadtaal karne se mana kar rahe the. Oo sab humko dhamkaya bhi. Jab hum nahi maane tab humko aise phasaa diya.” His voice had a frightened urgency broken by the continuous flow of tears out of his eyes.
“Sir hamara ek chhota sa bacchaa hai. Hum aisa kyun karenge. Hamara parivaar toot jayega. Hum kucch nahi kiye hain sir.”
“Hmm. Chalo bhaiya ek baar tumhara baat maan bhi lein... Magar kaise chhod dein tumko. Saboot kaa hai tumhre paas.”
“Aap ek baar is number pe ee phone karwa dijiye ke humko chhod diya gaya hai hum nirdosh saabit ho gaye hain. Saboot apne chal ke yahan aayega.”
“Hmm. Chaalak to ho tum.” The inspector gave a nod to a constable who was witnessing everything. “Aakhiri mauka hai tumhara.”
“Kaafi hai sarkar.” His voice gained sudden firmness.
“Lo bhaiya Gai Ghaat aa gaya.” The auto driver announced. Akash got down and paid exact change of 7 rupees to the auto driver. He used to frequent this place in the past just to sit besides the river. The auto advanced.
On the other side of the road, a series of police vans and trucks passed blowing sirens to the extreme.
“Arre bahut bada kaand hua hai Patna College Thana mein.” Someone spoke. “Inspector, constable sab dher. Kisi ko nahi chhoda. Sune hain ek apharan ka apradhi ko maarne aaye the sab. Aur sabko maar gaye. Unka boss bhi mara gaya.” Everyone seemed to understand the gravity of situation and gave a nod to convey that it must be terrible. Ramdin was looking on the other side of the road at small kids playing with toy guns.
It was pool of blood all around. Nobody knew who started it but by then the inspector was lying on the floor with his bloody unenquiring wide eyes in the direction of Ramdin’s hiding. The enquiry room had transformed into a general waiting room at a railway station. Only difference was that the dirt was replaced by a pool of blood, and the lifeless visitors were replaced by dead guests. He could see one body falling every 4-5 shots of fire. From behind the table where he was hiding he could see Boss, as people called him. The main reason behind everything including this pile of corpses at a rather unexpected location. Patna College Thana. A sudden urge made him turn towards inspector’s corpse. Their eyes met as he hurried to take out the pistol. No more interrogations.
This was perhaps the last gunshot. The one that emerged from nowhere and added the chief guest to the waiting room floor. As boss collapsed at a perfect headshot, the whole scene stood still. As if this was an epilogue to a strange piece of fiction, penned by the main protagonist, about the author, a revenge for the story. A tit for tat.
“Lo bhaiya. Aa gaya pacchim darwaja.” Ramdin was the last passenger on the auto. There still was a lot of journey into the ashes to be completed for the auto. Ramdin checked the seat for any blood while getting down, paid the money and advanced towards his house.
The streets of the ashes had grown dark. Small kids clad in dirty half torn clothes were running around. Their hair, brown out of malnutrition seemed to not have been done for days. Ramdin walked through the small streets ensuring not to stumble upon the small drains right across the streets. At the end of the street, he could hear loud music of songs from hindi movies of nineties. On the other side some kids were dancing to the tunes while bathing underneath the community hand pump. Few more kids, well dressed with well oiled hair and bags on their back, on the way back from tuitions giggled at them while passing by. As he passed through a number of streets to enter his street he sensed something wrong. Every door was closed. There weren’t any kids on the street or under the hand pump. Even the street lights were switched off. It seemed to be a mourning session among the houses, at no sign of humans.
He sensed that the worst had happened when he saw the door of his house wide open. Inside the house everything was broken and scattered. The beds, closet, puja ghar, TV, radio, everything lied out of place. His heart started pounding.
“Bittu!!!” He started shouting like a car horn gone bad. Loud but shaky. Everyone in the street could hear him. A small crowd had already gathered outside his house. No women, no children, only big strong people from neighborhood houses.
Someone spoke. “Woh aaye the… aath dus log. Sabke paas bandook. 2-3 goli bhi chalaye the. Fir Bhabhi jee aur Bittu ke chillane ka aawaz aaya. Baad mein woh Bhabhi jee ko le gaye. Bittu ka pata nahi.
Ramdin ran back into the house into the bed room, amidst everything was a small gunnysack, labeled in bold letters “Tohfa” and tied at the top. Stains of small streams of blood emerged from its pores, The whole sack was lying in the middle of a pool of fresh innocent blood.
Ramdin collapsed at the sight. Other people ran away as if they had seen a ghost. Within minutes he could hear sound of sirens coming from distance. As he moved, he realized that he had lost track of time. He had seen enough of blood for the day. It was time to wash it all out of his mind. There was one place where he could do that.
He stood up and walked out of the house. His mind numb enough to think of anything. Exhausted enough to care about anyone. All he knew of was the destination he was heading towards. He had to find his wife, he had to avenge himself. But not today, maybe tomorrow… if at all it comes. This day already seemed like a fast forward of hundreds of lives. He was done with everything. It was time to wash himself away, into ganga maiya.
***********************************************************************************************************************
Epilogue
Hours had passed and all the three of them still stood on the bridge boundary. Perhaps each of them was waiting for one of other two to jump first. To see whether this was enough to die. It’s ok if it took time. It’s ok if it missed to break open the skull and instead broke limbs to make it easier to sink into the river. Pictures from last day were still as fresh as first splurge of blood from a knife stab.
Rachna was looking straight into the calm stagnant mirror of water below her, and her small reflection in the water, like a red dot ready to fade away.
Maybe the one with saddest story will jump first. Thought Rachna. Deep down, she wanted someone else to jump first. Her story can’t be saddest. She wasn’t a loser. She had just lost everything she had dreamt of. That doesn’t make her a loser. She was there by choice. If she went back home and cried over her father’s shoulders, he would forget any anger he may have. Her decision sounded like just another cliché picked straight from bollywood movies and she hated herself for that. But she hated the idea of going back and crying even more. The world had come to an end beyond which if extended, it would be a bigger real life cliché. Instead of going home it would be preferable to extrapolate the life in mind and jump off the bridge. But not being the first one to do that. Cause she wasn’t a loser.
She looked at Akash on her left, at a distance far enough not to influence, close enough to give comfort. Akash didn’t see her looking at him. He was deep in his thoughts.
I have always had options in life. Where I missed out was I never gave life any options. Never… And maybe that’s why I am standing here at this moment. Akash was still expressionless. When things come to an end, it’s the best time to pass judgment about them.
I loved my stay at IIT.
I liked to spend time with her.
He was the best mentor I ever had.
I never gave my life any options.
Akash had never taken a break to think about life. Ironically now that he was to end it, he suddenly started to. He just wanted to spend some more time with life. Revisiting every moment he had let things go wrong. This would give him all the more reasons to jump off and end it all. And maybe by that time Ramdin on the extreme right would jump off, after all he looked in the worst shape.
Ramdin was lost in a flashback as insignificant as a destitute orphan.
Papa what’s that?
Oh that… it’s a snail son. The most helpless creature I have ever seen.
Is it ok if I crushed it?
If you don’t someone else will… These things don’t make it for long.
Ramdin’s shell had been crushed. His strength, his son. He felt more vulnerable than he ever had. He was already dead. This was the time for cremation. I don’t care if these two jump or not. I need to.
But wait a minute… Is that police?
A distant siren made them look towards left. A cloud of dust visible at a distance was approaching them. All of them climbed down from the boundary. Rachna rushed towards her fireball. Akash didn’t know what to do. Ramdin needed to hide somewhere. Just when they were looking here and there, Rachna waved at them. They rushed towards her car and all three of them jumped inside the car. She started the car and drove it slowly. It was chief minister’s convoy. He was returning from Muzaffarfur to deal with the aggravated situation on municipal strike after last day’s incident.
As the convoy vanished into the cloud of dust around it, Rachna took the vodka bottle in one hand and raised it.
“Drinks anyone?”
It wasn’t the right time of the day to be drinking alcohol but the only time scale they cared about was countdown to the jump.
“Ya.” Both of them agreed.
“I don’t have glass you will have to drink neat directly off the bottle”, Akash had already gulped down a stream by the time she announced it.
“Good enough!”
“So, do you think it’s high enough, to kill instantly?” It was indeed an inappropriate conversation but what else could have been more appropriate.
“I am carrying this for backup.” Ramdin smiled and showed the kitchen knife he was carrying in his pocket, it scratched one of yesterday’s wounds on his chest as he tried to put it back.
“Ahh!!!”
“Don’t worry man you are already half dead.” Rachna cracked a joke.
“Aren’t you?” Akash looked straight into her eyes. She just gave him back a blank stare. It was perhaps the most appropriate answer.
“Let’s do one thing, I drive the car at highest speed and break the railing out into the river. Let the machine do everything.” No-one responded.
“Or do you people care for a tea before that, I know a chai dhaba nearby?” Akash spoke looking out of the window.
Ramdin was blank faced. As if he didn’t care for anything. If he couldn’t care for his wife, what else could he possibly care for?
“Hmm, I am undecided let me try the first idea first.” She drove the car to the end of the bridge, took a U-turn and stopped the car in the middle of the road.
Every face was blank. She turned the ignition on and pushed the accelerator paddle firmly. The fireball sped southwards spelling the dust behind it blurring the vision maybe to break into the river smashing the siderail into pieces, or maybe just southwards with no destination to go to but a chai dhaba.
***********************************************************************************************************************
Note: My first serious attempt at a piece of pure fiction... never had imagined it would take so much of time to finish it off. I hope I did justice to the characters. If you read till now. I must say thanks and would appreciate if you could drop some comments... even otherwise its fine.
Labels:
Long Story,
Story
