The dog barked before he could take any evasive action. He tried hard. He ran, shouted, ran faster, shouted louder and at one point of time even barked back, but the dog was persistent. He was running out of options. He had already tried shouting/running/shouting louder/running faster. He needed help. He thought of the SWAT team and then his thoughts wandered to the healthily built lady who held guns like fruits and sprayed canisters of ammunition like perfume on her body. Ahh! No wonder his legs relaxed and the dog gained advantage. An unfair race it was! The dog grappled with his jeans and pulled hard. He pulled harder and kept running. Bindu’s shop passed close by and he saw the twins buying sugar in small packets that they held one each in their hands. The smelly Raghu was sitting and swatting flies in his ‘samosa shop’ eagerly waiting for the first bunch of customers that morning. He chewed pan and spat outside the shop nearly missing his jeans as Chantu and Bantu made into his shop with their share of pocket money for the day. He congratulated himself. His sense of observation was bloody impeccable even with a fucking dog up his ass! Ahh!! He grabbed his ass and ran past the gloomy streets as the shadows grew longer and his shadow raced faster ahead of him before he ………
***
Readers, their friends and their second cousins who scratch their backs using pencils in sweaty summers and eat small pellets of erasers as and when they are accessible to them. What happened next? Let’s make logical conclusions. So, we have a human being. Possibly a guy; easy deduction based on the use of the pronoun ‘He’. In his early twenties. Non smoker probably; who can defy the dog this long without a healthy pair of lungs unless he is in a dream. My my; can this be a dream. Of course this is a dream. You see the reference of the morning and Raghu’s wait for the bunch of first customers and the contradiction in shadows growing longer unless…. unless.. the ‘he’ referred in the second half is not the same ‘he’ as the one in the first half. But both the ‘he’s are involved in running.My my… is the dog a metaphor for the second ‘he’ or is it a reference to the first ‘he’ and the first ‘he’ is chasing himself going round and round in swift motions defying the speed of light and a lot of high school physics. Good God!! We have a conundrum at our hand..!! What do you think?
***
“So? What do you think?” This was the 314th dress she had tried on. Twice.
“What can I say? It is just picture perfect.” He struggled hard to avoid a yawn as she went in to try the 315th. His mind drifted quietly to the conundrum he was trying to resolve. It had something to do with a dog and a chase. Good God! With Karuna’s constant interference he was not able to think clearly. He decided to take a walk.
“Baby where are you going?”
“To find the 316th” he shuddered ”and a life” he added silently. Only the salesman and the lady behind the counter heard him. He passed them and the door outside. He lit one. He lit the second and then the third before she came out probably in the 319th. It was a purple colored ...... something!! Damn! Garments for the ladies have come a long way. Gone are the good old days of ‘salwaars’ and ‘kurtis’. Now there is a balloon top, a sack top, a tank top and to top it all a half sleeved, balloon shaped ass kicking tank top which fits in a sack. So much for the F-tv fans and the midnight hot lovers. They are all there to screw up with the peace of your life. He had no idea if it was a tank/sack or balloon top. Actually he was confused if it was a top. He tried turning himself upside down but to no avail. Her head stayed where it was.
“This looks good. Actually, great. The color suits you and the…. the … .. the .. thing… whatever it is shows off your figure ……appropriately” He added the ‘appropriately’ cautiously.
‘Damn these words. They fail me when I need them the most. I remember the name of the twelfth prime minister of India and the hundred and fifth element in the periodic table but damn…. What is this thing called? I am pretty sure it was somewhere between 245 and 256th thing she tried on!! Think baby think. It is loose. It has sleeves. So all sleeveless variants are out. It is short. Just around mid waist. Probably some tight top. Maybe a tunic. Tunic? He repeated in his head before discarding the idea. He still thought that tunic was a vegetable. Back is covered. Not tied back to the neck. Definitely not a halter. Yes… Yes… you are doing great. Elimination is the process. Let’s start off again.
Balloons a little around the neck. Trims down into a tight top as it goes down. She is wearing it on a jeans but does not look out of place. Of course a balloon top. No… trick question ..Don’t go by your instincts. It’s definitely a tank top. ‘
“Do you think I can wear this Bandeau dress to your boss’s housewarming party?”
Crap!!
“Well ..well yes..!! Definitely. The ‘Bondage’ top looks great. Better than the ‘Tank’ top you tried before.” Shut up!! Now you are just showing off your knowledge of the female apparel.
***
He woke up with a start. He had been dreaming about apparels. No! it was worse. He had been dreaming about apparel shopping with her. His head buzzed a while before he came to his senses. He looked outside the window.(Why do people always look outside the window after getting up in stories?) Low sunlight. Could be morning or dusk. How long had he been sleeping? He thought of the last memory he had.
He was talking on the phone. She was speaking. No she was questioning. He was silent. No! He spoke. Yeah, he definitely spoke. A cup of coffee lay nearby on the table. He had coffee. But he liked tea. He probably had company. But normal social protocol would require him to drink along with the company to keep up with the social customs of entertaining guests. He got out of the bed and hit a steel glass spilling the remains of tea leaves draped in the last sip of the tea left in the glass. Ahh! Mystry solved. He definitely had company last night. Probably Gupta. That bastard drinks coffee to show off!
He opened up the drapes. The shadows were directed towards the west. Defintiely ‘morning’. He exhaled with peace. He had not slept the day off. He thought about the phone call.
“So tell me, what is the best moment that we have shared?” she inquired over the phone from far away.
“Is it really necessary?” He retaliated. Office had squeezed this habit of denying everything at the first go. But not everything was ‘work’ and not everywhere was ‘office’.
He thought. I must say he thought really hard. He thought harder than the time when his parents had found him with a page of ‘Debonair’ in his ICSE physics book and he had tried thinking of a sane excuse. And bingo! He thought one.
He softened his voice. There was a reason for the sudden urge of softness. You should know it already. If you don’t; go teach Dhoni how to perfect a cover drive.
“There was this one time when we were in high school. We had not started to ‘converse’ then. I saw you walk into the classroom ‘soaked’. You put the umbrella down and then moved all your hair to the left, tilted your head and used your kerchief to dry the excess water and then rocked your head in one swift motion, tilted your head back and tied your hair in one neat semi-wet bun. Damn!! you looked wonderful that day. I slept with a smile that night for I had seen someone beautiful.” He brought the dramatic narration to a climax and like a school kid waited for her response.
“I will repeat once again. What is the best moment that we have shared?” The stress on ‘we’ was not necessary. He had intentionally ignored it the first time.
He thought again. He thought hard and then he stopped thinking for he started to remember. He remembered the beach when he saw the sun setting; casting its final rays on her face. He remembered the train journey and the wind blowing her hair and revealing the tiny speck on her forehead. He remembered the time they sat on the ledge of his balcony swaying their legs idly and she singing him the songs he wanted her to sing. And he thought some more. And some more before he smiled. There it was. He struggled for a minute. Yes! Definitely that was the best moment. He clearly remembered every bit. He wondered if she would remember. He knew he had picked up the best. Her heart would melt into butter. He laughed silently before he started his narration.
“There was this one….”
“Have you thought of all the cherished moments?” she cut him short.
“Yes……….almost” one can never be sure.
“Well then there is no need to tell. I just wanted you to recall them. Just wanted to reinstate your faith in ‘us’.” Beep. Click. She was gone.
“Evil Genius” He murmured with a crazy smile locked upon his lips.
*****End of episode*****
4 comments:
The first two paragraphs make you feel , you are a part of the movie" inception" .Then follows everything that is amazing, lovely and beautiful, as the "episode 7- The conversation". i hope that likeness , justifies the likeability for the episode.
Nice writing dost...clearly u r able to say some things to whom u want to say...u evil bastard...btw...GUPTA..nice move..!!
Gupta ke bina to har kahaani adhoori hai...
next part to "their story" is eagerly awaited..hoping to see the story move forward. :)
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