Greed: Part I

Life has surrounded us with traps, meant to entice. Looking at it from another angle, it’s actually God’s way of throwing a few red herrings on our trail, secretly hoping that we pass the test and don’t follow the trail.

But we do, don’t we? We’re HUMAN BEINGS.

It’s like getting your first share of profit at the markets. Quite like when an animal smells blood. It feels so good...

Out of the seven sins, I believe that greed is the worst. It’s like those ‘gold/platinum’ credit cards—NO LIMITS!

Oh wait! You may be wondering why I’m writing all this... I’m in jail actually. And actually enjoying every minute of it...

Part II coming soon...

HAVE MERCY

A loud cry in the middle of the night woke me up. The rain should have actually drowned out any other sound, but this cry was different. I woke up to find that there was no power (as usual). As I walked over to the living room, the cries grew louder. I opened the door and looked around. No one was there. As I turned back, my eyes fell on the porch. I got the shock of my life.

He was like God to his people, Lal sahib. He was the wealthiest zamindar in Allahabad. And the kindest. People from all over India would come to him with their problems and he would treat those problems as his own. And this man was about to become a father. His entire village was in celebration. In a few days, they were going to be blessed with God’s successor.

“DADI! Please get the lamp!” Dadi was 78 years old, but I knew that if there was anyone I could count on in such a situation, it was her. We’d been living alone in this village for more than 20 years now, and she was respected (even feared, maybe) by every person. When she came to see what was happening, she just silently shook her head.

Lal sahib had brought a doctor home. His wife was in labour. In those days, only the wealthiest could afford to bring a doctor home. Apparently, the doctor threw up words like ‘complication’, but Lal sahib would have none of that. He ONLY wanted to hear good news. A little while later, the doctor came out.

“UFFF! Are you going to keep that poor thing out?” Dadi screamed. She took the little boy in her hands, and dried him with the towel that wrapped her shoulders. I looked on, almost in disbelief. “Dadi, it’s a BOY! And as it is, we’ve got problems of our own? Why should we care?” I got one resounding slap.

"Please, don’t shout, the villagers are standing outside.” Yes. The entire village indeed wondered what was going on. This was supposed to be a day of happiness, of joy, of celebration. But Lal sahib was bellowing at the top of his voice, and things were flying about. There were pleas and cries for help, but no one moved. Probably the villagers were too stunned to hear their God, so angry, so out of touch with his usual self. And then, it was all revealed.

“Have you forgotten Dadi? Have you forgotten how we were humiliated? It was YOU who told me all those stories, Amma! You told me how my father lost his mind! You told me how he just kicked out a woman and her helpless daughter! You hated men, AMMA! YOU HATED MEN! YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN STRONG AND PUT THEM DOWN DADI! Now, you’ve slapped me for this BOY?”

“AFTER SO MANY YEARS, YOU GIVE ME A GIRL?? A GIRL?? FIE UPON YOU!” Saying so, he just kicked them out of the house. Both mother and daughter. In front of the whole village. Lal sahib was no longer God. He had transformed into something terrible.

“Don’t be a fool.” was Dadi’s riposte. “And don’t be under the impression that I’ve forgotten anything. I haven’t. That’s why I don’t want you ending up like your father. Now come inside and help me with this little lad. Looks like he’s going to need milk.”

Dadi could never forget Lal sahib. She had only forgiven him. And that was that.

Dirty Harry: RIP

1987, San Francisco

I was born in San Francisco in 1979. My neighbourhood was pretty rough—I was involved in backyard brawls since I was 7. But somehow, I didn’t end up on the wrong side of the law. I always wanted to be a cop, just like my dad, because when I used to see him walking around with a gun and people saluting, I thought it was a cool thing. Yeah, Chico Gonzalez Jr. (that’s me) wanted to be a cop.

But nothing was cooler than what my dad told me about somebody named Harry, Harry Callahan. Apparently, he hated bad guys to the point that he would just shoot them off in the head with his .44 Magnum. That sent shivers down my spine, but heck, I was willing to do it. The more he told me about it, the more I wanted to be just like him. Yeah, that was my ambition. To be like Harry Callahan.

 

2009, San Francisco

11:00 PM

He was lying on the floor, his clavicle completely shattered (that’s collar bone to you fellas). I was late by five minutes and those scumbags got to him. But Harry did take out two guys, even in that kind of situation. It was just him.

“Don’t waste your time, sonny. Get out and after them. I might go any time.”

I couldn’t do that. I called 911 and alerted an ambulance. It’s the least I could do. I mean all my life I’ve wanted to be like him. Couldn’t let him go like that, could I?

Ah, there’s the ambulance...

11:00 AM

“... and today, we have come to witness the last day of Inspector Harry Callahan as an inspector. It truly has been an honour. Please, Mr. Callahan, accept this award on behalf of our community. It’s because of you our children have been able to walk these streets at night without any fear. Thank you.”

I saw him walking toward the stage to collect his award. At 78, he still had that swagger. He collected his award and went hurriedly back to his seat, but was caught by the MC. “No, no, Mr. Callahan, you have to share something with us. You can’t get out of this one with your .44 Magnum.”

The crowd roared with laughter. Callahan too managed a wry smile. He walked up to the podium.

“Hey guys... and gals.” The throaty, manly voice was still intact. “All I want to say is... I hope future police officers aren’t scared of dishing out justice to those pricks out there like I did. Sure you don’t win friends, but you keep your enemies off the street. That’s all I have to say, thanks... and oh, all you lucky punks out there, you better not feel so lucky. I still have Smith & Wesson with me.”

Saying so, he drew out THAT big gun. The audience let out a gasp. Ol’ Harry just gave them a wry smile and put it back in.

I was put in his department. Homicide—where my father first assisted Harry. I saw some pleased faces on my way to the Police Department. Must say I didn’t like them. They were the pieces of dirt, the scumbags in whom Harry had put the fear of God. They felt they were let off the hook. Really, now?

11:30 PM

“Too much loss of blood... we can’t give him too much of a chance.” The words rang in my ears. I told the doctors I’d be back.

Meanwhile, my assistant (MY assistant, lord it sounded so funny) was on the trail of those bad guys. They just wanted to get back at Harry, and get back they did. JEE WHIZ THIS TRUCK’S COME OUT OF NOWHERE, I’M ON COLLISION COURSE...

Chico Gonzalez Jr. assistant’s narrative

They were six of them. SIX of them. Chico had to take Harry to the hospital. I don’t know why. What was so great about this guy any way? An old guy with arthritis in his hands who thinks he rules the world. Not happening for me. For me, NO ONE is above the law.

Uh-oh. Bullets coming in from all directions. I think I had just run into them.

I could only see the silhouettes. They just started firing again.

I ran for my life. I hid behind cars, trees and anything that came in my way. In the ensuing chase, I lost all my bullets. So I had no gun and six crazed guys after me.

DEAD END.

I turned back and looked at them. My time had come. They all raised their guns. Suddenly, I heard a few gunshots.

I thought I was gone. But I opened my eyes. Nothing happened to me. I just saw four dead guys, and two standing facing the other side. I checked my pocket and found one bullet left. I shot one of the guys with that. Now only one was left.

What I saw though, in front of me, was frightening. At the far end, I saw a shadow, in a sling, holding up what looked like Magnum .44, hair frazzled. And on the look of it, his skin on the outlines were wrinkled. The guy in front of me was shaking in his boots. I then understood why—I heard a familiar, throaty voice of that man.

I know what you're thinking, punk. You're thinking "did he fire six shots or only five?" Now to tell you the truth I forgot myself in all this excitement. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and will blow you head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?

Back to Chico Gonzalez Jr. narrative

I found myself in a hospital, feeling all woozy. Suddenly, I realised, Darren (my assistant) had gone after those six mad thugs. I gotta get there. I somehow managed to convince a frantic nurse and a very anxious doctor that I was ok. I just picked up my gun and off I went.

I ran, without realising that I was lost and wouldn’t have the faintest idea where the crooks were. Suddenly, I heard gunshots around the corner. I ran.

When I reached there, I saw six guys with their backs to me. Obviously, they’d cornered Darren. I took out my gun—hey wait a minute, this is Harry’s .44! After I picked it up, I got a message from the doc on my cell phone—we’d lost Harry Callahan. Excessive loss of blood.

I couldn’t let him die just like that. I had a fully loaded .44 Magnum with more bullets in my pocket to spare. Aimed it at those b*#@$%s and BANG! BANG! BANG! Four down, two to go.

By this time, I suppose Darren had woken up, because the guy in front of me just dropped dead. Yeah, he was looking straight into me just like the last crook. But the both of them had this queer stare.

And then, with a bit of a flourish, I gave him that piece of talk which I grew up listening to. The last guy was so terrified, he shot himself in the head. Good thing, because I fired and realised I’d run out of bullets.

Darren came out of the shadows and asked, in fear more than anything else, “Harry...?”

I just turned away and walked.

Live on Harry, live on. 

JATAYU – THE FOURTH REICH

2960 AD

The Third World War had arrived.

Surprising that there was a thousand-year gap in between, considering the state of the world. But it was inevitable. With Ravana heading The Mutant Avengers, and trying to woo all and sundry to his side, the threat of war was imminent.

He was audacious enough to start with Indian Presidency. Easy target, next door neighbours, they must have thought.

The first battalion of Mutant Avengers entered through where the Gateway of India had existed. Easy opening, lads. They loaded their guns and weapons. They fired.

They hadn’t counted for HIM, though.

2900 AD

As he held the little man-bird in his arms, Garuda was elated.

Garuda, the most powerful of all man-birds, had a son. His wife died in the outbreak of mutant flu in the early 2800’s, but before that she left her eggs with the Mutant Laboratory. It was a pre-decided arrangement—Garuda knew his wife was too weak to survive the flu.

“What will you name him, sire?”

Garuda pondered. The hospital suddenly began to shake.

“I believe we have an earthquake coming, sire!” yelled the doctor.

Garuda shook his head, “This isn’t an earthquake. This is Ravana. Take my son and get out of here, now!”

“But sir, his name!”

“GO NOW!”

As he was running out of the building, Garuda tried to use all his power to keep the building up straight. But Ravana was too powerful for him. Just before he died, he looked into the doctor’s eyes—the doctor was now standing outside—and screamed, “JATAYUUUUU...”

When the doctor turned around, he had the shock of his life—a young, ten-headed hydra stood just behind him, yo-yoing with a human head.

“So... Garuda names his son Jatayu, eh? Too bad, he’s only going to last a few minutes...” saying this, he blasted a laser beam at the infant.

The doctor turned away, but a little late. The baby’s wing was hit, and he was crying. He tried running, but Ravana was too quick for him. He caught the doctor and ripped his head off.

“Ah... I now have a replacement!” He threw away the head he originally had in his hand, and used the doctor’s head as a yo-yo.

The baby was now crying more loudly than ever before, and Ravana walked up to him. “Hmmm... should I kill you, or should I not?”

Suddenly, the sun came overhead, and Ravana’s heads started heating up.

“OUCH! I hate the summer! Anyway, little baby, I think the sun is enough to kill you. I’m going to leave you here to die... bye, little Jatayu! The emperor of the Fourth Reich pays you his last respects! HAHAHAHAHAH!”

And so, Ravana left. As the sun shone on Jatayu’s body, the cries stopped. Was this it?

Back to 2960 AD

As the Mutant Avengers fired their guns, they found that all their bullets blasted midway before reaching the target. Through the rubble of the Gateway, they saw a pair of red eyes. Before they could register what it was, they were dead.

Jatayu strode out of the rubble.

He saw Ravana in the distance, pulling off another human head. He flew magnificently towards him.

Ravana saw him coming and laughed. He just took his craft higher and higher into the atmosphere. Jatayu followed him. And so did Jatayu’s partner, Batushka.

At one point all three of them were pretty close to the sun. This is where things got worse. Jatayu started seeing red. Batushka knew what was happening, but it was too late. Ravana simply laughed.

Jatayu’s eyes emitted a stream of red-hot laser rays, and he spun round and round, not knowing what else was going on. He hit Batushka in the right wing, and missed Ravana by a whisker.

Ravana took Batushka with him and left Jatayu to his fate, just like he had all those years ago. Poor Jatayu destroyed almost everything around him, unknowingly, and collapsed to the earth in a heap...

2975 AD

Jatayu kept hearing the voices in his head. Was Batushka really alive?

As he entered the Lankan Presidency, he met his first obstacle—the giant mutant ogre, Bakasur.

Bakasur smiled evilly, “Welcome back, Jatayu. How would you like to be dealt with this time?”

Jatayu calmly replied, “The same way I kicked your ass the last time, buddy.”

Bakasur flew into a rage. And then flew at Jatayu.

Jatayu leapt at him in the same motion. I WILL BRING THE FOURTH REICH DOWN MYSELF, he thought to himself.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Engaged…

That was odd.

A phone call I had no idea of. God damn it, 5 in the morning. Must be a crank call.

No… I don’t have too many friends. Not many who’d give me a call like that.

And what was that about a body, anyway?

 

It was almost all over. The grill was open. There he lay. Fat boy. Shallow breathing. Eyes filled with fear. As far as I’m concerned, no remorse.

“Do you fear death?” I asked the boy.

He nodded nervously.

“Oh, then I’m sorry…”

Fingers at the ready… light’s out, kid!

 

Another boring day. I had absolutely no idea what to do. Jobless, penniless and generally had everyone’s nerves on edge. My mind had diverted from that phone call. It seemed insignificant now, compared to the other stuff I was handling. Stuff? Wait a minute, I thought I was jobless. Oh, working in a call centre didn’t seem like a job these days. I liked the dough, though.

 

After my bit of ingenuity, I lumbered over towards the old shack. Another victim. Oh I wish I’d come here before, these guys are just too easy. As I opened the door, I saw him lying down there. The grill was next to him. My appearance was enough to put the fear of the devil into people.

 

Today, I decided to take the day off. Uh oh, my phone is ringing [please don’t be the team leader, please don’t be the team leader]. It’s not. [UNKNOWN NUMBER]. Ok, funny. “Hello?”

 

It was time to contact him. I reached out for him. He was empty, devoid of much feeling. Just tagging along in life, as it were. Hopeless, useless, and as far as I was concerned, time for him to leave. All I had to do was contact him. Aha, a cell phone. I knew all about this contraption. And with my ability to speak the language, it was a cinch. Time to open the grill, folks. Dinner’s ready.

 

That call again. I can’t even trace it. The police? No, that doesn’t seem a friendly proposition at the moment. What body was this fellow talking about? Who was going to die? I needed to help this guy, whoever he was. I’m not well known in these parts for being a friendly chap, generally, but something within me told me that I should help this fellow, whoever he (or maybe she, if I’m lucky) was.

 

I kept walking along the street. My, this place was filled with scumbags. I mean come on, you’ve got to have a life! These fellows didn’t have one. That’s why I’d come along, to take them away. If you have something you’re not using enough, it’s time to discard it. But these people weren’t realising that. Sometimes, you needed more than an alarm. You needed a wake-up call.  I was ready to make the call.

 

I was all set and ready to go. Go where? I didn’t know where this call came from! Wait a minute, I hope I’m not hallucinating. Check call register. Nope, I wasn’t. Unknown number at 5 am and 11 am. But who? And where?

 

How did I land up here? Strange place, this. Lots of big houses and small huts. Oh yes, I’d come here to do my job. That’s right. The journey can make you feel disoriented sometimes. Sigh. I started walking. I noticed a lot of people around me. Early morning jogging. I wondered whether the girls really wanted to keep fit or to show off. And I wondered whether the guys were motivated to stay fit or… forget it. Any which way, they’re all going. Keep running, I say. This might be your last run, ladies and gentlemen.

 

I just ran down the building. I don’t know why. I had NO idea of where I was supposed to go. Still, I thought I had a sense of responsibility over that person. Where was his body trapped, though? Suddenly, I heard screams. There was a rundown shack just 50 metres away from my house. My, they were loud! No one else seemed to hear them though. Strange. I ran towards the shack.

 

“You understand your role, then?”

“Yes” I replied.

“Do you fear death?”

I looked him in the eye and said, “No”.

“Very well, then…”

And the lights went out.

 

I could hear voices from within. I circled cautiously around the shack, searching for an opening. Finally, I saw a window, some 3 metres above the ground. I needed something to stand on. Aha! It was ready for me. A couple of large boulders. I was around 1.8 metres in height myself, so I only needed a little leverage. I climbed up on the boulders and looked inside.

A man sitting at a table, looking at a body on the opposite wall. Funny, that body looked very familiar. Anyway, I was concentrating on the man. Tall, dressed in those ancient Victorian robes, complete with frills and laces. He had white hair and a pair of monocles to boot. But heck, even he looked familiar. In fact, the guy looked just like my next door neighbour, who died in mysterious circumstances. A strange looking grill was beside him.

And then, I realised.

 

“Oh no, please, not me,” I said. “Take the guy who lives next door! He’s a guy with a tarnished image, and his soul needs cleaning, not mine!”

“Don’t worry, you will make arrangements for him. However, now it’s your turn.”

“I will make arrangements? ME?”

“Yes you… oh you ask too many questions!”

I was under his powerful hypnotic spell. After that, he asked me, “Do you understand your role, then?”

 

When a ray of light fell upon the body on the wall, I got the shock of my life.

IT WAS MINE.

And this definitely was my neighbour!

But… but… if my body was there, what was I doing here?

Suddenly, I felt myself floating towards that strange grill. It was open. I tried resisting, to no avail. I was then brought face-to-face with my… well, ‘dead’ neighbour.

“You have a tarnished soul which needs to be cleaned.”

“Nonsense! Just let me go!”

“Oh really? And how come you think you’re floating in the air? Some illusion, I suppose? Isn’t that you lying over that like a rucksack?”

It definitely was.

“But who the hell are YOU to decide? You can’t decide when I die or what to do with my soul!”

“I most certainly can, my boy… I am the Alpha, the Omega. I am the universe. I am… THE SOUL COLLECTOR. I am God’s messenger.”

I tried pinching myself, but to no avail. This was no nightmare. In a few seconds, I was under his powerful hypnotic spell. My body, that is. I looked on, not able to do anything.

 

He then asked my body, “Do you fear death?”

It nodded nervously.

 

“Oh, then I’m sorry…”

Fingers at the ready… light’s out, kid!

 

I was dragged into the grill. The only thing I remember next is getting a crank call, 5 am, about a body.

Wait… that was MY body.

CODE NAME: ENIGMA

Hello and how do you do?

I believe the theory of evolution. Any species evolves into a greater one. Why is it so, that man has stagnated? There is a being higher than the current Homo sapiens - a being much more intelligent, more resourceful and much more powerful.

It is high time man moved on. But man is obstinate and lazy. He will want to stagnate. He has attained a comfort zone, sitting on a fat, round ass, waiting for destiny to throw Treasure Island up in his face. People want fast money, fast ladies and a slow life. Evolution doesn’t quite work that way. Old life gives way to new blood. For me, you have to be a higher being to move on. It’s like, everyone wants to play cricket. Chess matters to no one.

But it does to me…

Churchgate station - 5:25 p.m.

A bespectacled man, with sharp features and a gaunt frame, walked towards the train. He was wearing a sherwani suit, was quite fair, and looked pretty disinterested in the sea of people who were collecting around him to board the train.

It was an unusually hot day. The train seemed pretty empty. He opened his magnetic chess box, and started playing.

“Mind if I join?”

He looked towards the man. Interesting species, he thought. A fat man in a tight-fitting tee. This was going to be fun.

“I’ve never lost before. Never. Only I can defeat myself.”

The fat man looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Not only a tight-fitting tee, he had an interesting pair of jeans. Add to that a double chin, eyes out of sockets, no hair and an ‘Americanised’ accent. It seemed that the old guy was trying to be ‘cool’. And from the looks on the other commuter’s faces, it seemed he had eaten their brains out already. And the train had just started.

“You probably haven’t met your match yet, my boy.”

The bespectacled man smiled. “Better start off – I’ve already made my first move.” He pointed at the board, where the white pawn was already 2 places ahead.

Black pawn ahead. “That’s conventional” remarked the bespectacled man. “Here, have this.” He put his horse ahead of the pawn. The fat man put another pawn ahead to challenge the horse. The game moved ahead in this fashion, with the fat man using all his pawns, but eventually the bespectacled man managed to bring him down using only his horses and castles. The pawns were almost stationary.

Eventually, the black king, and a couple of black pawns were all that was left. Almost all the major white pieces were intact, although only one pawn was left. The fat man was sweating.

“Let’s make this interesting. We’ve played pretty fast. It’s only 5:33. Another five minutes and we’ll be at Mumbai Central. You’ve taken almost all my pawns, and I’ve taken almost all your pieces. You have five minutes – if you manage to survive till then, then I let you go. Or else, if you lose, you have to do what I tell you to do. Agreed?”

“W-w-what…” the fat man was really scared.

“S-s-s-s-h-h-h… the clock is ticking. Make your move old man!” the other people in the compartment were watching the game with interest.

He moved his king sideways, shielding them with the pawns. He kept looking at his watch. 3 minutes to go. The bespectacled man removed one of his pawns with his horse. “Check…” he said. Mumbai Central station arrived. There was a huge sigh of relief from the fat man. Both men exchanged a handshake.

The fat man had enough. He got off the train, and wiped the sweat of his forehead. He looked at his handkerchief, and there was a small drop of blood on it. He quizzically looked at his hand, and sure enough, there was a small, red dot. He looked back at the train, which was already on its way. Everything around him started to blur and fade away. He fell, face-down on the platform, and a crowd gathered around.

Meanwhile, in the train, our friend continued his dialogue, “…and mate!” The king was knocked out.

Dadar marketplace - 5:50 p.m.

The marketplace at Dadar was busy. Vendors were having a field day with their fruits and vegetables. One particular vendor though, seemed to be outselling the others. All he had was apples and oranges. A likely combination!

“Come and have the choicest of fruits! Apples and oranges! Reasonable rates! Come one, come all!”

It was reasonable to the point of being fishy. Just yesterday, buying these fruits was almost impossible, with rates touching the sky. Today, it was Rs. 20 for a DOZEN apples (NEGOTIABLE) and Re. 1 for every orange!

The vendor was a dark fellow, thin, with a thick jowl and eyes almost hidden behind those pieces of flesh we call eyelids. He had a strange body structure: plump face with an almost emaciated body. But he certainly new how to draw customers to his shop, even though his knowledge of economics was certainly not quite the level of Amartya Sen. He probably believed in the law of ATTRACTION more than anything else. A passer by who noticed this asked the fruit seller:

“Why are the prices so low? I think I smell a rat somewhere…”

“What are you saying sir? Then why would people come and buy from me? These are unique apples and oranges you won’t find anywhere else sir!”

“Why… what is so unique about them? And you don’t seem to be making any money! The ultimate objective of life is to earn money to survive, isn’t it?”

“Money is not important to me sir! My goal is to enable the people to enjoy the choicest, unique fruits. I can challenge you: no where will you find such fruits! Call me a philanthropist if you wish…Eat one yourself and decide sir!”

“You know you speak pretty good English for a fruit vendor…” he was getting suspicious.

“Why do you think it’s only YOU guys who can speak English? Why? Anyway, do you want the fruits, or not?”

“I don’t mind really. Give me half a dozen apples and oranges.”

The vendor gave it to him for free, “This is because we had such a nice discussion.”

“What?” Just as he was about to put forth another set of questions, he noticed that there was some commotion at Dadar station. Everyone ran towards the station. It was known that a man had fallen dead at Mumbai Central for no apparent reason. High alert was called for at all railway stations.

He then realised that somebody behind him was choking. Turning around, he saw a man with an apple in one hand, and the other hand clutching the throat.

Suddenly, the same thing happened to another lady. She was having a juicy orange.

Both of them fell flat on the platform.

The man rushed towards the fruit vendor.

There was no one there. Only an open stall of apples and oranges.

Andheri station - 6:25 p.m.

There was a long queue in front of the ATM at the entrance of the Andheri station. Third in line was a thin, old man, wearing thick spectacles, but yet standing tall. He seemed to be healthy for his age.

Suddenly a young ruffian came in his way and took his place in the queue.

“Young man, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Aye uncle! Please keep your lectures and your preaching to yourself. Bloody old laggard… I’ve got to go to an important place, and I’m sure my work is more important than yours!”

“Son, that’s no way to speak to a man your father’s age!”

“Oh yeah, you can take a walk old man.” His cell phone rang. “Hi sweetheart! Yeah I’m getting the money and reaching in 15 minutes, don’t worry. Love you babe!”

“That’s not…”

Before he could speak up, the ruffian turned around and caught the old man by the collar. “Hey old fag, I don’t have time for your shit. You’re getting on my nerves.”

The old man didn’t say anything. He allowed the ruffian to get ahead of him. No other person came to his rescue. Not even the watchman.

The young guy entered the ATM. As he took his cash and wanted to come out, he found that the door was stuck. “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

No matter how many people tried, the door would not budge.

Since it was a tough glass door, an axe was brought to take it down. The moment the policemen swished the axe at the door, the axe flew off its hilt and smashed the glass door with great force. That force took a glass piece straight into the young man’s heart, and the axe smack on that glass piece. It ruptured a hole in his heart and he died on the spot.

There was panic at the station. Everyone was running around.

Only one man was smiling. The old man. As there was chaos around him, he went up to the axe and examined his handiwork. As his work was done, he slowly walked out of the station, and caught a rickshaw.

CASE SO FAR – The police and intelligentsia are absolutely baffled. They came to the conclusion that this was the work of a well-networked gang, until 2 months later after the deaths; they received a note from an anonymous source. It went like this:

Hello and how do you do?

I believe the theory of evolution. Any species evolves into a greater one. Why is it so, that man has stagnated? There is a being higher than the current Homo sapiens - a being much more intelligent, more resourceful and much more powerful.

It is high time man moved on. But man is obstinate and lazy. He will want to stagnate. He has attained a comfort zone, sitting on a fat, round ass, waiting for destiny to throw Treasure Island up in his face. People want fast money, fast ladies and a slow life. Evolution doesn’t quite work that way. Old life gives way to new blood. For me, you have to be a higher being to move on. It’s like, everyone wants to play cricket. Chess matters to no one.

But it does to me…

I want to create a Utopian world. A world where people understand values, where people understand the value of life. Not a world where people are at each others throats, suspecting and envying each other on every count.

I would rather like it if you helped me in my endeavour.

Otherwise, I shall do it alone… ALL ALONE. Just for your records: I caused ALL the railway station deaths 2 months ago. I will continue. Maybe not at a railway station, but yes, I will continue until I’ve cleaned the world of this riff-raff.

Welcome to my world,

CODE NAME ENIGMA

THREE'S COMPANY... TWO FOR A LIFETIME

(A man was alone in a dark room. He had an airplane ticket in one hand and a pistol in the other.)

Saturday, September 15, 2007 – This was it, D-Day. Both Rahul and Smita were sitting in the room, trying to speak to each other, contemplating the future. Almost 7 years of being into each other, and yet they were unsure.

“7 years Smita, 7 years. Are you trying to tell me that it has gone waste?”

“No. Certainly not. I am only saying you could have handled this better. You know better than I do that I cannot and will not spend the rest of my life with anyone but you. Thanks to the circumstances…”

“Circumstances eh? What happened to all that LOVE of yours hah? Ok, I do agree we were separated by distance. But I used to call you, come over whenever possible and we’ve shared some lovely moments together! Even you cannot deny that fact Smita, and you cannot take those moments away from me!”

“I’m not, and I won’t. It’s just that…”

“Yeah it’s just that Mr. Ka…”

Just at that moment Karan walks into the room.

(The man in the dark room takes the gun up and keeps the ticket down)

“Sorry I’m late. I had to…”

“Yeah right, MR. KARAN. Always having excuses. Always late, never on time.”

“Maybe I was late you bloody… (Looks gingerly at Smita) you know Rahul, maybe I was late, but I beat you to it! Fair and square!” saying this he pointed towards Smita.

“Beat you to it? BEAT you to it? Yeah right, an innocent girl comes from a small town to a big city, and you guys see her as easy prey. Unfortunately, I had faith in my 7 years of love. I thought she’d see some sense…” Rahul falls away.

“Easy prey? EASY PREY? Goddamn you I love Smita! And she’s no baby – she’s 21 if you’ve not realised. Why do you always bring your SEVEN YEARS OF LOVE into the picture? Haven’t you ever realised that what I’ve done in less than a year for her has probably far outweighed what you could muster in 7 years? I am not even binding her to some contract like you are! 7 years… codswallop”

Smita was getting restless. “Guys I think we’ve come here…”

Karan intervened, “No Smita, not today. You will not come in between us. We need to settle our differences man-to-man.”

Smita winced, “But…”

Karan caught her hand and said, “Trust me”

“Take your hand off her!” roared Rahul.

“Why? She doesn’t seem to mind do you Smita?”

Smita just kept silent. Karan said, “Ok, I do not understand what your silence means, so…”

Rahul pounced on this, “SEE? In one year you cannot understand her feelings. I know that she means no when she’s silent!”

Smita, “NO RAHUL… my silence doesn’t mean that! I’m just waiting for you guys to finish your babble! And please let me say what I have to! Please!”

Now it was Karan’s turn, “Dear oh dear… even seven years hasn’t done you much good eh?”

(The man in the room keeps the gun down, and picks up the ticket)

Smita had enough. “Now it’s MY turn! I will do the talking! Please guys, I have had enough trouble trying to make truce between the both of you. I know this is all my fault – I probably shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Or even if I did…” she looked at Karan, “… I should have kept myself back. Now it’s an awkward situation for everybody. I’m really sorry guys. But we’ve come here to settle differences and make a decision. And I think the decision has been made.”

Now it was Karan’s turn to get hot-headed. “Really, Smita? Do you think the decision has REALLY been made?”

“Karan, you know that I can’t stay here any more. My folks back home are suspicious, and thank God, I at least told Rahul about our relationship or things would have spiralled out of control even more. He took care of my folks back at home. My family and his have known about our relationship for quite a while now. The entire town back home is expecting us to get married. I don’t think I can really…”

“What if I tell you, Smita, that I am ready to stand up to your folks? What if I’m ready to face society for you? What if I tell you I can put everything on the line? You STILL would choose Rahul?” Karan was tense.

“Karan, please understand one thing – it’s not that I’ve stopped loving Rahul or anything. He’s also given me his time, and even he’s ready to do anything for me…”

“But you still love me don’t you?”

Silence from Smita. “Now Mr. Rahul translator, please translate THIS silence for me?”

Rahul smirked and said, “That’s what I’m saying. You guys in the city think it’s a joke and you put the girl through such turmoil that…”

“Turmoil? TURMOIL? What we’ve shared in the last one year has been TURMOIL, Smita?”

Again, a scared silence from Smita. “What do you mean by that Smita? What exactly do you…?”

“KARAN PLEASE!” Smita started sobbing. “Don’t put me through this. You… you just have to forget me. Keep no memories of me, Karan. I have to go back. I cannot take this any more...” she started crying.

“What do you mean Smita? You came into this relationship of your own accord! You yourself told me that whenever you’d come to me with your problems, and I would help you out, you always wished you’d been here rather than there all your life. You said I was the one you were always looking for! I gave you all the support and friendship through your hard times here, and now when I ask you for your support, all I get in return is SILENCE? Now tell me what you’re putting ME through, Smita!”

(The man picks up the gun, and looks at the ticket and the gun in his hands)

Rahul got up and went towards Karan, “Hello, hello, please stop all this nonsense! Don’t you dare ever speak to her like that! Didn’t you hear her? She’s had enough of you! Now she wants to come back with me and live the rest of her life happily!” he almost caught Karan’s collar.

Karan just laughed slightly, “Before you make me come after you, let me ask you a simple question, man-to-man? Are you ever going to be satisfied or relieved your entire life, that a girl who doesn’t REALLY love you, who’s married you for the sake of society, will always love another man, that’s ME?”

Rahul was livid, “She doesn’t LOVE YOU!! She’s just confused!”

Karan laughed again, “Yeah right, a convenient excuse. Confused. A 21-year old not being able to take a decision on her own life. That’s rich. Or, not being ALLOWED to take a decision, should I say?” Both had each other’s collars in their hands now.

Smita, who was still in tears, separated them, “Both of you have never really understood me have you? You know I can’t see you fight, and still you go at each others throats, right in front of me!”

Karan now looked at Smita, “Smita, this is your one big chance. Here, I have a ticket that goes to the US tonight, where I’ve just landed the most incredible job. We’ll never have to see his face again Smita. We can go to the USA, settle down there and we’ll be safe and secure all our lives.”

(The man again puts the gun down, and looks intensely at the ticket)

Rahul was quick to retaliate, “Smita, you know that your father suffers from diabetes. Your mum has a lot of expectation from you…”

Karan spoke in between, “…learn to eviscerate these bonds as you move on in life Smita. This life is yours, and no one, not even your parents…”

“…I will be the laughing stock of the entire town, your parents won’t be able to bear the pressure…”, “…I’ll take care of your parents for you if you want…”, “It’s YOUR LIFE, YOUR LIFE…”, “…aren’t you indebted to your parents and relations back home?...”

“PLEASE STOP!” Smita had really had enough. “You guys will never understand me, and you’ll keep going at each other. Now I will take the final decision.”

Karan wanted to say something, but Smita stopped him, “Karan, I know we’ve had lovely moments here to ourselves, but eventually I must conform to the norms of my society. Rahul has given me 7 years of his life, and he’s always taken the best care of me. My parents believe that this is the boy I’m marrying. If I suddenly turn up with you, everyone’s going to have a bad impression. Neither Rahul nor my parents deserve it. If you’re worrying about how I’ll manage, don’t worry. Rahul’s love and your memories are good enough for me. And don’t ever think I’ll ever forget you Karan… I never will.”

“It’s easy for you to say that, after one year… you don’t realise what you’re doing to me, Smita…” now Karan was almost in tears.

(The man puts the ticket down and buries his face in his hands)

Rahul now said, “Imagine my plight, after 7 years in a relationship, my girl wants to be with someone else. I guess no one has even thought about that. Have YOU ever loved anyone 7 years Karan? Have YOU ever been ditched? Do YOU know how it feels?”

Karan looked into his eyes and said, “Yes Rahul, before Smita, I was in a relationship that almost drove me to the brink of suicide. So don’t you dare talk to me about this seven-year shit. When Smita came into my life, I thought things would change. But well, I guess I’m destined to be the loser all the time. This conversation was of no use. I was the outsider all the time.”
Rahul and Smita both got up, “Karan, please don’t say that. You will always, always hold a special place in my heart… right now though, I’ve got to go. You’ve got a great job in the US, and I’m so happy for you. I’m sure you’ll find a better girl than me, Karan.”

Karan just half-smiled, “That’s what all the girls say when they want to ditch a guy. Yeah, I’m always the ditched one, the spare piece, the rank outsider…” saying this he suddenly laughs.

Rahul then said, “Hey, we’ve had enough. You’ve a plane to catch, and we’ve a train to catch. Both of us have to catch something FAST. So long, it’s been nice knowing you, bye!”

Karan was fuming. “Ignore him Karan,” said Smita. She hugged him one last time, and put a piece of paper in his pocket. “I love you Karan, and I’m sure you’ll be able to do well without me. Here’s wishing you all the best in life.” She pecked him on the cheek.

Karan then said, “I don’t know about the ‘doing well without me’ part… heck I don’t even know if I’ll be able to make it tonight. But ok, love you too Smita, hope you and Rahul have a great life together. I’ll be on my way… for good…”

(Returning to the man in the dark room, he takes out his face from his hands. The lights come on, and we see Karan. He takes out the paper Smita slipped into his pocket, and puts it on the table between the ticket and the gun. These were its contents: DEAR KARAN, YOU ARE MY LOVE AND YOU ALWAYS WILL BE. THERE’S NO WAY I CAN STOP LOVING YOU. BUT WE’VE GOT TO REALISE THAT AT TIMES IN LIFE, YOU HAVE TO TAKE A TOUGH DECISION FOR THE BETTER. I WASN’T AS STRONG AS YOU TO TAKE ON THE WORLD KARAN, AND I CAN NEVER FORGIVE MYSELF FOR THAT. BUT YOU MUST REALISE THE PAIN AND SUFFERING MY PARENTS WOULD HAVE HAD TO GO THROUGH. THEY’VE GIVEN ME EVERYTHING IN LIFE, AND I COULD NOT BREAK THEIR HEARTS FOR MY WHIMS AND FANCIES. I HOPE YOU WILL UNDERSTAND. BEFORE SIGNING OFF, I JUST WOULD LIKE TO TELL YOU ONE THING KARAN: LOVE HAPPENS ONLY ONCE. THE REST IS JUST LIFE. YOUR JANU, SMITA. Karan now looked at the ticket, the piece of paper and the gun. He had a decision to make. 4 hours to a new life, with the memories of Smita, or 4 seconds to end this miserable, lonely life. He looked at the ticket, the gun, and the piece of paper one last time and his hand reached out to take one of them…)