On The Highway..!!

(Hey guys, fed up of humour, I tried a different genre. Talk about experimenting..!! I've posted this on Writer's Lounge already. Okay, brace yourself and get ready for a thrilling drive.)

Refilling petrol into his Ford, Vishal swung into a small, silent, lifeless lane. He turned on his music player and threw a glance at the dashboard clock, which said- 8pm. It was starkly dark as he drove steadily ahead in search of an entry point to get back into the highway. The road became narrower and darker as the surrounding woods got denser. He could have touched the highway by just retracing the route by which he had come from, but somewhere in his adventurous mind, he thought- “Lets explore.” But now, as he passed well through the village limits, he wondered- “ Do I need this?” He noticed a hitch in his voice and repeated loudly to himself- “ Do I need this crap? No right?”

Suddenly the head beams illuminated a large wooden sign attached to a tree, and Vishal stopped the car. He stared out of the windshield into the old, dirty, bedraggled wooden board and noticed a familiar word STOP. The rest of the sign was incomprehensive, but he could notice another similar word- DEAD END.” He observed his head beams illuminate a small metal barricade about 50 metres in front of him, which blocked the road. The road looked perfectly fine ahead, which made him contemplate as to why such a board was put up. He surveyed the glove box on the dashboard, in search of his torch. He dug out a small piece of paper, which was in it and read it with the help of the torch. It said-“ Toll fee- Rs.35.” He entwined and crushed it, threw it outside and stepped out with the torch in his hand though he had kept the car’s head lights on.

He walked tardily as the dry leaves on the road made crisp sounds as he stepped over them. He reached the barricade, scanned around the place with his torch and found nothing to apprehend the wooden sign to. ”Somethin’ fishy” he said in his mind. With feelings of ambivalence, he started his walk back to his car, covering his eyes from the glare of the car’s powerful head beams. With silence surrounding him, he could literally hear his breath and the crisp sounds of the dry leaves as the wind blew. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked- an unfriendly bark, he decided. He got closer to the car with just ten strides away from it- one… two…three…. four…five..and he froze. A human hand rested on his shoulders with blood dripping through it and a struggling male voice cried- “ Hey….Hey….”




His dashboard clock read 8:30 pm and his speedometer read 110 kms/hr. He was back on the highway, he screamed at himself- “fuckin speed-breakers” and jumped over one. He was sweating profusely, though the car’s air conditioning was switched on. He noticed his music player was still playing, and turned it off in a flash. A milestone read- “Chennai – 98kms.” He found another, the third ‘toll-booth’ on the highway so far and stopped to pay and then proceeded. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, luckily it could catch the network signal and he dialed his close buddy Vijay, whom he was supposed to meet in Chennai. Moreover, he had to confide in someone close to him, preferably a good crony.

Vijay- “ Hey bro..!! You are late. I’m waiting. What’s up?”

Vishal- “ Hey Vijay.” He cleared his throat and continued- “ Listen, I need to tell you something. Something dangerously important.”

Vijay- “Buddy, you sound tense. What’s wrong?”

Vishal- “ Yeah. On the way, I had to enter a small village to refill petrol after which, I headed along through the village road in search of the highway entry point, where I found a ‘dead-end’ sign. I got down to check out and man… shit He pulled out the small water bottle from his glove box, emptied it in one go and continued- “ A person, a middle aged person, with blood stains all over his body came to me and tried to say something. All he managed to say was- “ Hey.. Hey…” and directed his hand towards a house at a distance and fell dead right in front of me. I think someone stabbed him with a knife. Oh man, in trying to be stupidly inquisitive, I fucked up everything.”

Vijay- “Holy shit. What else?”

Vishal- “ Nothing. I dint know how to react? So, just hurried out of that place. Now, I fear the police would put me into hardships regarding all this. All unnecessary bullshit I got into. Don’t know what the fuck made me go there.”

Vijay- “Okay, cool down.” He paused and continued- “ Okay, do as I say. Reach Chennai, and ‘check-in’ into “The CrossRoads Inn” Leave your luggage in the room and walk out into the public, maybe a restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”He paused and continued again- “ Remember, you are not the culprit. So head held high. Okay? We shall take the bull by the horns. See ya.”

Vishal- “Yeah. Thanks” they cut the call.

He continued driving at a constant 90kms/hr as the road was wide and smooth. He glanced through the rear-view mirror and his heart stopped for a second. A police ‘Qualis’ was following behind him. He hit the accelerator, as the speedometer needle rose to 110kms/hr. His heart raced along. The police car behind him, was no less, it too maintained good speeds if not it was faster than Vishal’s Ford. The Qualis swung to the right, pushed ahead and was now head on parallel to the Ford. Vishal threw a hesitant, nervous glance towards the driver, a policeman but realized that he wasn’t returning the look. Vishal released the accelerator trying to abate and the Police-Qualis moved on without cooking up any kind of a storm. Vishal exhaled deeply relieving himself. He turned ‘on’ his music player in an attempt to vanquish his fears.

In an hour, he entered the familiar, Chennai and drove with no confusion to the hotel- “The CrossRoads Inn.” He parked his car in the parking space, checked in into room number- 305. He tipped the helper who showed him to his room and locked the doors. He went in, had a shower, ate some fruits that he had carried and noticed the wall clock, which showed- 10:30 pm. He messaged Vijay over his phone to inform the room number and typed- “ Meet you at the restaurant.” As he was putting on his shoes to leave to the restaurant, he heard the ring of his ‘door-bell’ and two hard knocks on the door. He swung to the ‘switch-board’, switched off the lights and headed to the ‘peep-hole’ of the door. He peeped optimistically, but to his shock his worst fears came true. He saw three men in khakis, waiting at the door. The Policemen had arrived.

To be Continued....

Midnight Utopia..!!

“Sonaaaaliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii………………” I screamed as the clock struck 3 in the morning, in my hostel room.

Sensing that I was still asleep, Roshan brought a jug full of water and poured it on me. Drowned with water and shock, I tried to sit, trying to catch my breath and thoughts as the water entered my nostrils. That bastard could have just sprinkled water on me.

“Oh God! What kind of a mad ass are you?” Roshan asked restlessly feeling helpless about me- the enigma.

“Same to you.” I smiled and blasted- “Go get the towel you stupid.”

As he passed the towel to me, he said with ineffable restlessness- “ You literally kill me with your dreams everyday. How many tonnes of crap do you have loaded into that useless head of yours?”

I was recollecting my dream without even renting out an ear to his ‘woe blabbering’. I said interrupting him- “ Okay listen to my dream” and began with the unvarnished version of the mid-night crap-

The sky encircled me with dark, gray clouds. I clad a white shirt with a white dhoti in a pukka South Indian village style. A tall, black guy stood facing me around 10 metres from me with a stare, a forest of a moustache and a knife in his hand. With his other hand, he held my girlfriend, Sonali's throat. I looked at my slippers and then at the sky, removed my sunglasses and flipped it aside. The first drop of rain reached my forehead, which ignited my show of bravery and man-ness. With a tough look on my face I lifted my right leg as if to show him my thighs. Then I lifted my right hand and slapped hard on my right thigh and just as I slapped the thigh, a loud thunder broke out and the downpour began. With that, the guy trembled with fear, released the girl and ran for his life. Sonali ran to me and hugged me and was about to kiss when the director hurriedly shouted- “CUT. Take Okay.”

I added to Roshan, who was with his ears open to my preposterous dream story, cleaning all the excess water on the floor after he had poured it on me- “ Dude, the damn director. I was reminded of our guru, Navjot Singh Sidhu’s saying- “ The ball missed the bat just like a kiss in an Indian movie.”

‘Crap-disinterested Mr. Roshan enquired- “ And you shouted Sonaaliii for that?”

“No, you stupid.” I continued- “ That’s after another scene in the movie.”

“Fuck You.”

“Thank You.”

Unlike Roshan, I was excited, so I continued- “ And you know what? I won the Indian equivalent of ‘The Oscars’ – ‘The Bhaskars’ for this role. You ever got such a dream in you lifetime?”

“Thank God. No.”

Roshan, in pursuit of time-pass, asked out of curiosity- “ What was that next part which made you shout so loud like Tarzan?”

I smiled and started-

I paid 100 bucks for a bunch of flowers, which costs just 50 bucks and began to run to the railway station. Though there were taxis all around, I had to confine myself to running. My sweat and tears merged confusingly as I sped across the city like a thief who stole flowers. My informers (a bunch of comedians) had informed me that Sonali’s dad (the villain by the way) was taking her away from me to an unknown place. The train began it’s movement as I reached the station entrance. I dint care to buy a platform ticket but ran, jumping around like Jackie Chan. The train was speeding away from the platform when I spotted Sonali from the train extending a hand towards me with tears flowing through her like a waterfall. I ran and ran, but the train was faster and I couldn’t reach her. Now my 100 bucks worth flowers and my life was totally wasted. So I waited for the next train to enter the platform, and as it came along, I jumped in front of it shouting out loud- “ Sonaaaliiiiiiiiiiii…..”

It was 6 in the morning now, Roshan scratched his head after listening to my story and walked into the bathroom to get ready for college. Then it was my turn, and then we headed to college, where I narrated this story to a bunch of guys who all scratched their heads later and then I headed back home and fell asleep.

At 3 AM, the next morning, I shouted with roof-threatening levels of sound- “Yeahhhhhhhh..!!! I won ‘The Bhaskars’ …. Yeahhhh..!!” which made Roshan waste another jug of water.

25 dimesnions..!!

Asbah tagged me with this. I’m supposed to write 25 random things about myself. I’ve had this notion of not writing tags, but somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke up when a thought struck me like lightening- “ Stop acting over smart and do those tags which nice people generously pass on.” At 11 in the morning, here I am…..

1--> I plucked off a white hair that I spotted on my head today. How depressing for a first thing to do on the morning of Valentine’s Day. I’m 21, but I’m getting to feel like 81.

2--> I watched a telugu movie of Siddharth ( of RDB fame) yesterday. I knew girls liked him but not to the extent that no guys watched his movie. The theatre was 80% girls. Man, I felt weird, but not completely bad. :P

3--> I sometimes, all of a sudden feel like listening to slow, depressing songs. Feel like taking a walk alone in a park. Feel like staying alone n all that. This serves as entertainment for my silly friends.

4--> People talking to me for the first time can easily come to a conclusion- “ What a boring person he is!” That is cent percent right. It takes time for me to get along with people. I tried to change, but I guess I’m like that.

5--> Right now, I’m feeling – 25 things about me is just too (three) much.

6--> I love the color- Black. Black and blue is the combination I like the most. It doesn’t go well with dresses thought.

7--> I can prepare dosas, chapathis and few such tiffins. I’m famous in my family for preparing Tea. So, in case unemployment strikes me - chai..chai..chai chai chai… in the railways stations surely.

8--> I sometimes feel I can make a Mega serial (soap opera) with my cricket stories (rather woes) and my health issues. Just need a good ‘camera-man’ who can zoom in on me thrice every second.

9--> I love writing funny stories. I love the fact that I make people laugh by doing so (if that is a fact btw!!). What better than laughter? ;)

10--> My posts may not suggest this, but I’m a responsible person, be it on the road or generally as a citizen.

11--> I don’t like people who always keep grumbling. Be happy until u die, keep worries for heaven.

12--> My favourite movie is – The pursuit of Happiness. It inspires me like nothing does.

13--> Am presently listening to a tamil song- ‘Mundhinam paarthene.’ From ‘Vaaranam Aayiram’. The song is soothing. Next on the playlist is Akon.

14--> I am shy. Hehe. Yeah, I feel shy sometimes.

15--> I wish to move around to more places. I was born, brought up and spoilt all here in Bangalore. I love this city though.

16--> Just like another billion in our country, I’m crazy about cricket. I pretty much understand all the technical details about it. I’ve been coached by some national players, also had been selected for my state U-15 team, but that was the end of the story. Health issues. I recollect this once in a week at least. Can’t help. Can’t digest.

17--> I can’t imagine how my life would have been if I hadn’t been blogging. Best thing that has happened to me recently, really.

18--> Kids in my family circle like me like hell. They do all sort of things with me. Last month, they put a flower on my ear and took snaps. Last week, they put wires all over me and yesterday they put dirt on me. They take snaps of it and laugh the whole day. I wonder if I’m that funny.

19--> I hate it when people compare me with someone else.

20--> I’m getting to like my name nowadays. :P

21--> I must say I have a wonderful sister. She’s 8 years younger to me. I love the way she cares for me. I keep trying to reciprocate, along with a few fights as usual. ;)

22--> Comments on my blog make me very happy. So I try to leave a comment on which ever blog I visit.

23--> Now, I’m feeling the heat. 25 is too much asboo.

24--> I get stupid thoughts sometimes when I read the newspaper. Just like this one yesterday- Why not grab a few pink chaddis from Muthalik. He’s got 35,000 of them. It’s recession time anyway, y not stock up? ( btw, I’m showing no sympathies to that bastard Muthalik).

25--> I’m leaving for Vellore (The Golden Temple) in a while from now with my parents. So, you can make further calculations about my relationship status on this auspicious Valentine’s Day..hehe.)

Thanks once again Asbah, for this tag. I’d further tag Aarthi, Tara, Tejesh, Sunil, Akansha, Dipti, Neha (Miss.London), Jack, Naveen, Asmita, Meera, Prats, Richa (U’ve got to do this Richa), Saket, Kaber, Riya, Shruti, Thoorika, Rinzu.. and anyone who I’d have missed out.
Long list, but I just dint want to say- Anyone can do this. Wanted to name them.. hehe..
And great news- I’ve turned off the –‘Comment Moderation’. So, my dear spammers like – ‘MoneyMatters’ or ‘LoveTricks’, keep away.. U don’t want me sending those pink chaddis to ur bog ryt?? :P

Take Care

Heavy Party..!!

Me and Roshan, after a brain storming session filled with arguments came to the conclusion that we should also include a greeting card along with a birthday present (a monster gorilla) to his neighbour’s kid- Nikil a.k.a Dangerous Darling, on his birthday. We bought a Birthday card on which I was about to write the regular- ‘ With Love from……’ when Roshan interrupted in a way they interrupted marriages in movies. He said to me- “ Even pharmacists are clueless about your hand writing. Give it to me, I’ll write.” A lady standing beside giggled trying to look at the ceiling. I’m basically dust-proof, rain-proof and insult-proof. So, I just walked away. Anyway, after all that non-sense, we entered the party hall, which actually looked like more non-sense. Nikil ran to us and we wished him and presented him the gift and the card & in return he gave us Birthday caps (cones) and paper trumpets (we call it pee-pee). I blew hard with it and all the kids followed suit, which made me close my ears and made their parents’ BP levels rise. People who knew me well enough, in a weird way could conveniently establish the relation between- Parents’ BP levels and me. That didn’t make me any prouder, but as I said, I was insult-proof.

Anyway, they served us a ‘Welcome Drink’. Holding the drink we found a seat for ourselves. While I could finish a glass of juice in 4 seconds, Roshan takes 4 minutes. He’s like a lazy senior citizen. Meanwhile one known ‘aunty’, who was extra-large in size came by and said to me with a wicked, disgusting smile- “ You have gained weight. You were so good looking.” The happiest person on earth at that point of time, Roshan replied- “ Aunty, I have a six pack. Did I tell you? ”
Aunty smiled and looked at me waiting for a reply. I thought about many replies but said- “ He has a six pack. I have a family-pack.” She laughed but wasn’t amazed. Who cares?

Then, dinner was ready for me and I was ready for dinner. My plate got so jam-packed that I couldn’t even see the plate. I found a seat to hog on to the stuff on my plate. Meanwhile the kids put color papers and some scrap on my head and took snaps. They loved me like hell. I was reminded of the joke- “I have just returned from a children's party. I'm one of the survivors.” Roshan dint find any girl, so he sat quiet. He suddenly went to a two year old kid and started talking- “ chu chu chu… chu chu chu…” and I began to wonder who was two year old. Meanwhile that extra-large aunty came by along with her daughter. She pointed at me and told her daughter- “ Go ask him if that is a basket ball or his tummy.” They both giggled. They themselves were extra large and that tested my ‘insult-proofing.’ It was time to show my ‘man-ness’. I looked out for Roshan for company but he had already found a girl and was talking some crap like how much he liked ice-creams.

Anyway, I walked to that aunty and her daughter. The children just started singing- “ Humpty Dumpty…” I asked aunty curiously- “ Aunty, do you measure your weight in a weighing machine or a Richter scale?” and sang along “Humpty Dumty sat on a wall…” with the kids.