The next day was a busy one. I toured the city like a curious tourist and was awed by the grandness of the city's heritage, culture and food. Qutab Minar was much taller than my expectation and the Red Fort was indeed red, the museums had the past saved for us and the satellite town looked real rich buzzing with glamour and imposing modern architecture - India had come of age.
I picked up warm clothes, medicines, a torch, candles, replaceable battering, rope, a Swiss knife and some more things which I though would come handy. I felt excited like a school kid who was to take on his first scouting lesson.
Neena and Joe preferred to stay in and do some homework on the challenge ONE. They gather information about the place: how to reach there, the weather, people and what could surprise us. They handed me a sheet with the details of their findings, I neatly folded it and placed it in my wallet. Neena wanted me to stay for the drinks but I was tired and wanted some time alone. I left them to discuss their life experiences.
The hotels concierge was gracious enough to keep our belonging till we return. We pooled our money, 5,000 each as asked and Neena was to keep the checks and the balances. As per the plan we checked out at 07:00 and by 08:00 we were on the bus to this quaint and quite place, Kotgarh. I pulled the paper from my wallet which Neena had given me. It read:
Distance: 82km from Shimla via Narkanda on bank of river Sutlej.
Transport: Bus service between Shimla and Thanadar.
Location: District Shimla, Himachal Pradesh. Situated 6 km from Thanedar and 18 km from Narkanda.
Occupation: Apple cultivation.
Climate: Pleasant Summers (June-Aug) with cold snowy winters (Dec-Feb)
Landmarks: Old church built by the British in 1843, Gorton Mission School, Harmony Hall, Pahari style temples, Tani-Jubbar Lake and Hattu Peak.
We were in Shimla by 17:00. When we disembarked the cold wind pierced my coat and hit me like a sharp arrow. I could smell the fresh air and people appeared much happy and content and in no hurry to go anywhere. I smiled at everybody who looked my way and they reciprocated, they didn't make me feel stupid. I declared to my team mates that I already like this place and might never go back to the Oberoi's to collect my stuff. We decided to hire a taxi to Kotgarh as there was no other mode of transport available until next morning, when the HRTC buses would roar.
The clue card said that we had to meet Jawala Ram in Kotgarh and he was to give us more information and lead on the next phase of 'the big race'.
I was glued to the scenic beauty of the Himalayas all the way to Kotgarh and couldn't blink, I had never imagined that there was place so pristine and beautiful. From Narkand we took a small byroad which wandered through the thick deodars and then through the mesmerising apple orchards. The apple tress had shed their leaves in preparation for the harsh winter and the sweet smell of the pine wafted in the air. We all gazed at each other and were dumbfound by the natural beauty of the place. We were in heaven.
Jawala Ram was in his mid thirties and lived on the forest side of Kotgarh. It took us 10 minutes to look for him - it appeared that everybody knew everybody there. He seemed be waiting for us eagerly. His sweet manners further charmed me. His house was a three storied house surrounded by apple orchard. He had animals on the ground floor, lived on the first floor and the kitchen was on the top story - a typical pahari old style house. He had 2 small kids and a lovely wife to complete his world.
He showed us to the adjoining house facing the forest where we were to spend the night. It gave look of desertion and neglect but our room was well made. We all were to stay in the same room. It was roomy enough and was heated by a charcoal fire. They got us dinner which we three devoured and slept at about 22:00.
I felt somebody walk over me, I was jolted out of my sleep. I didn't see anybody there. Neena and Joe slept quietly in their corners. I dismissed it as a nightmare and tried sleeping again. A little later I heard wailing noise coming from the forest, I was in sweat. I pressed by hands against my ears and I didn't know when I feel asleep.
[SHARK IN A POND]
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Chapter 3 - The Old Fort
The Old Fort looked majestic. The ruins told a story of a glorious past and transported me to the old times... the kings, queens, elephants, horses and the grand battles. I was spellbound and it took a bit of time for me to get back to present. The time seems to have saved the ruins for this generation to drawn inspiration and make progressive plans for the future. The fort was bathed in the golded rays of the setting sun, the birds chirped and made their way home - they reminded me of my purpose there.
I found Neena and Joe outside the west gate. It was not difficult to spot them, they looked copy of the participants of the 'amazing race' - rucksack, cargo pants, bandana, trekking boots et al. They had come prepared. I studied them for a while and then walked up to them. I introduced myself with a big smile and a firm handshake. Neena gaped at me as if she was meeting Brad Pit. I do not blame her, I had inherited good looks from my mom and dad while Joe looked down on me - he was a foot taller.
They had been waiting for me for about 2 hours. At 19:00, the gate was closed for the visitors. Some of them made their way out reluctantly and didn’t want the spell to break.
A tall gentleman in a suit walked up to us and handed a bag. Before we could ask him anything he had vanished in the crowd. Neena torn it open with excitement. It had the details of ‘the big race' Challenge ONE and our stay plan in Delhi.
We were put up in the premier rooms at the Oberoi’s Delhi overlooking the beautiful golf course. We stayed there for the next two days; the staff charmed us with their hospitality. It reminded me of ‘The Nights Tail’, I concealed my emotions and enjoyed the stay.
At dinner we got to know each other a bit more. Neena flooded me with her questions: What I do? Am I married? Where I studied? Do I have a girlfriend and some more delicate questions. Her questions mortified me a little but I tactfully ducked them - watching TV does help. Joe was the reasonable type and he was busy admiring his biceps, that when I noticed he had big arms.
Neena didn't find joy in her bank job and had recently been abandoned by her boyfriend for an NRI. There was lot of anger and pain inside her. She spoke about her detachment and hate for male species and the institution which cages and stifled the minds. Neena had grown friendly with Joe and he held her hand and comforted her while she questioned the wrong that had been done to her. I nodded to show my concern and excused myself just past midnight and went off to sleep. They stayed on and drank
Our first challenge was to trek up to a small village in the Shimla district of Himachal Pradesh and pick our packet for the next challenge. We were advised of the weather and were encouraged to pick some warm clothes. We were also told to deposit our belongings with the hotel and only carry 5000 rupees. Heron we were to be provided money and things basis the requirement of the challenge.
[SHARK IN A POND]
I found Neena and Joe outside the west gate. It was not difficult to spot them, they looked copy of the participants of the 'amazing race' - rucksack, cargo pants, bandana, trekking boots et al. They had come prepared. I studied them for a while and then walked up to them. I introduced myself with a big smile and a firm handshake. Neena gaped at me as if she was meeting Brad Pit. I do not blame her, I had inherited good looks from my mom and dad while Joe looked down on me - he was a foot taller.
They had been waiting for me for about 2 hours. At 19:00, the gate was closed for the visitors. Some of them made their way out reluctantly and didn’t want the spell to break.
A tall gentleman in a suit walked up to us and handed a bag. Before we could ask him anything he had vanished in the crowd. Neena torn it open with excitement. It had the details of ‘the big race' Challenge ONE and our stay plan in Delhi.
We were put up in the premier rooms at the Oberoi’s Delhi overlooking the beautiful golf course. We stayed there for the next two days; the staff charmed us with their hospitality. It reminded me of ‘The Nights Tail’, I concealed my emotions and enjoyed the stay.
At dinner we got to know each other a bit more. Neena flooded me with her questions: What I do? Am I married? Where I studied? Do I have a girlfriend and some more delicate questions. Her questions mortified me a little but I tactfully ducked them - watching TV does help. Joe was the reasonable type and he was busy admiring his biceps, that when I noticed he had big arms.
Neena didn't find joy in her bank job and had recently been abandoned by her boyfriend for an NRI. There was lot of anger and pain inside her. She spoke about her detachment and hate for male species and the institution which cages and stifled the minds. Neena had grown friendly with Joe and he held her hand and comforted her while she questioned the wrong that had been done to her. I nodded to show my concern and excused myself just past midnight and went off to sleep. They stayed on and drank
Our first challenge was to trek up to a small village in the Shimla district of Himachal Pradesh and pick our packet for the next challenge. We were advised of the weather and were encouraged to pick some warm clothes. We were also told to deposit our belongings with the hotel and only carry 5000 rupees. Heron we were to be provided money and things basis the requirement of the challenge.
[SHARK IN A POND]
Monday, October 26, 2009
Chapter 2 - Delhi
My friends, staff members and couple of relatives had come to see me off at the airport. They all knew I was boarding the 14:15 Virgin flight to Heathrow, where I would be met up by the representative of the college. I bid them good bye and junked the flowers and gifts in the trash can and hopped on the Jet Flight to Delhi at 14:35.
The night before, I didn't sleep. We partied till the wee hours and when I returned to my pad I was overcome by emotions. My parents died when I was a kid, my elder brother supported me all through till I started working. We were very close to each other. He was a civil servant and was posted in the North East. After he got married his focus shifted to his family but we still remained in touch and watched each others back. It was too early to ring him, I couldn't stop myself, I had not even told him what my real plan was and where was I going. He answered the phone in a sleepy tone... we talked for about an hour. I felt better. I had spent last 10 years finding my footing in Mumbai and carving a place for myself in the tough city. ‘The Nights Tail’ was my dream, it was difficult to leave everything which had taken me 10 long years to build.
I felt excited when I boarded the plane. I knew this adventure would help me get a different perspective. I pulled out the package from my handbag, I had read and reread the 'the big race' papers a hundred times but still I wanted to make sure I understood the terms and conditions well and the clue card to find my team mates.
At 16:30, I was in Delhi. The lovely air-hostess announced the temperature and wished the passengers good luck plus invited them to fly again with them. I was nudged passed by a baldy; he seemed to be in too much hurry. I wanted to kill him but pretended I was okay. I made my way out of the aircraft and thanked the lovely lady.
October is a beautiful month in Delhi and the best time to visit the city. I was greeted by the cold breeze and a beautiful winter sun. I only carried my handbag and didn’t bother to pick my luggage – I didn’t need it. My handbag had all I needed - my passport, my phone,'the big race’ packet some cash and my wallet.
The clue card described my team mates and the location where I could find them. For me the race had begun. This was my first time in the city and I was ready for the worst. I hailed a taxi and described the place to the driver.
“Be at the old fort, Delhi. Oct 28th, 19:00.” read the clue card. He gave me an incredulous look after I described to him where I wanted to be, I pulled out the picture of the fort from the packet. He could not figure out which one it was, there were many in the city and they all looked alike. He still insisted in knowing the name of the place. My adventure had begun.
We meandered around the city asking the passerby's where this place was. Some didn’t had time to help and some were prompt is offering suggestion - take left, straight, right, roundabout, narrow lane etc. etc. How helpful? Finally we pulled up beside an imposing fort with crumbly walls and a giant door. It definitely looked old as the clue card described. I looked at my watch, it was 18:45. I paid the taxi driver who still had an incredulous look on his face.
[SHARK IN A POND]
The night before, I didn't sleep. We partied till the wee hours and when I returned to my pad I was overcome by emotions. My parents died when I was a kid, my elder brother supported me all through till I started working. We were very close to each other. He was a civil servant and was posted in the North East. After he got married his focus shifted to his family but we still remained in touch and watched each others back. It was too early to ring him, I couldn't stop myself, I had not even told him what my real plan was and where was I going. He answered the phone in a sleepy tone... we talked for about an hour. I felt better. I had spent last 10 years finding my footing in Mumbai and carving a place for myself in the tough city. ‘The Nights Tail’ was my dream, it was difficult to leave everything which had taken me 10 long years to build.
I felt excited when I boarded the plane. I knew this adventure would help me get a different perspective. I pulled out the package from my handbag, I had read and reread the 'the big race' papers a hundred times but still I wanted to make sure I understood the terms and conditions well and the clue card to find my team mates.
At 16:30, I was in Delhi. The lovely air-hostess announced the temperature and wished the passengers good luck plus invited them to fly again with them. I was nudged passed by a baldy; he seemed to be in too much hurry. I wanted to kill him but pretended I was okay. I made my way out of the aircraft and thanked the lovely lady.
October is a beautiful month in Delhi and the best time to visit the city. I was greeted by the cold breeze and a beautiful winter sun. I only carried my handbag and didn’t bother to pick my luggage – I didn’t need it. My handbag had all I needed - my passport, my phone,'the big race’ packet some cash and my wallet.
The clue card described my team mates and the location where I could find them. For me the race had begun. This was my first time in the city and I was ready for the worst. I hailed a taxi and described the place to the driver.
“Be at the old fort, Delhi. Oct 28th, 19:00.” read the clue card. He gave me an incredulous look after I described to him where I wanted to be, I pulled out the picture of the fort from the packet. He could not figure out which one it was, there were many in the city and they all looked alike. He still insisted in knowing the name of the place. My adventure had begun.
We meandered around the city asking the passerby's where this place was. Some didn’t had time to help and some were prompt is offering suggestion - take left, straight, right, roundabout, narrow lane etc. etc. How helpful? Finally we pulled up beside an imposing fort with crumbly walls and a giant door. It definitely looked old as the clue card described. I looked at my watch, it was 18:45. I paid the taxi driver who still had an incredulous look on his face.
[SHARK IN A POND]
Chapter 1 - The Start
The big race had gone all wrong. "I can see some huts about a mile from here," I yelled to Joe and Neena. I was standing on top deck of the rickety motor boat which we had bought off by pawning whatever we had with us.
I had been steering it down the river in heavy downpour for nearly 2 hrs. It was a mesmerizing sight the rain had almost stopped and the hot air was rising up and turning into mist. I stopped breathing for a while, the stillness of the place seeped into my pores. I killed the engine and the boat slowly drifted down the river like a lifeless log. Joe and Neena joined me on the top deck and they gaped at the sight. It was a shallow marshy ground with long green bladed abruptly interrupted by a range of small hills with flowers all over. White birds chirped and welcomed us by hovering over our boat. "Are we in heaven or do I see trouble," Neena shrugged.
I first met Neena and Joe in Delhi. They were part of my team which was to join the big race. Neena was 24, lithe with a sharp tongue and she had more things packed between her ears them inside her cups. She was an executive with a bank and talked in questions and it didn't take much time for me to fell for her quirky nature. She was a looker and could have turned on a flagging 70 year old without any artificial help.
The big race was an experimental project. It had the jaded corporate burnouts, jerks and lunatics looking for much needed kick to propel their lifeless life's engine with excitement and adventure.
I had been gamer for long and was looking for some real adventure in the real world. I stumbled upon the advert through a gamer friend who casually mentioned it to me during one of our high charged game session which he easily won. It read, "If adventure gives you high join the race". It also said in small prints that "you might not live to regret joining the big race".
Joe was a mild mannered jaded IT engineer. He was a foot taller than me and had curly hair and big arms. Joe seemed much older than 35 but introduced himself as in late 20’s. He was a wee bit darker than my favorite dark chocolate, not withstanding his completion he was a bright bloke and knew well how to connect the dots.
Nobody had a clue about who was managing and running the show. To register, I logged on the site, filled in the details and swiped my credit card for $20000. In 2 weeks, I was sent a mail with names of people who I was teamed up with - Neena & Joe. I was asked to look up for them in Delhi with simple clue and the picture.
Ramsey was my idol when I was being grilled in the catering college to differentiate sauté from frying. He was a celebrity chef with good looks and I nurtured a desire to be like him one day. Getting a footing in the business with not easy. I worked at couple of places before I answered the call of 'Knight Hotel'. They were looking for someone with experience in managing kitchen and I fitted the bill.
I loved my job at the ‘Kitchen of Moe’. It’s a small nook in the Knight Hotel and the management neglected it until I took over. I learned later that I was the only one who answered their advert. They didn’t hope me to do miracles. They seem to have chalked out a plan to go down the bankruptcy route with or without me. However, the fortune of the Knight changed once I took charge.
Moe’s helped me give free rein to my creativity - I experimented with different cuisines. Soon it was talk of the town and I had almost everybody eating out of my hands. I grew in popularity for my style of cooking and the show and drama I put up at Moe every evening.
Time passed and I moved out of Moe and stared my start alone restaurants, 'The Nights Tail'. It went on to win the restaurant of the year for its food and service and my journalist friends kept me in news. Money and fame pulled me into the vortex of the power game and I enjoyed every bit of it. After a while things stared appearing phony to me. My interest started flagging and then one day I heard about the big game.
I took a sabbatical from work and handed the charge to the junior chef. I told everybody I had been invited to Scotland to teach at the culinary college and was also to gain some insight into the their culinary history and fares. To be honest with you, I had absolutely no interest in haggis, scones and cakes but the reason was too perfect to be challenged or rebutted.
[SHARK IN A POND]
I had been steering it down the river in heavy downpour for nearly 2 hrs. It was a mesmerizing sight the rain had almost stopped and the hot air was rising up and turning into mist. I stopped breathing for a while, the stillness of the place seeped into my pores. I killed the engine and the boat slowly drifted down the river like a lifeless log. Joe and Neena joined me on the top deck and they gaped at the sight. It was a shallow marshy ground with long green bladed abruptly interrupted by a range of small hills with flowers all over. White birds chirped and welcomed us by hovering over our boat. "Are we in heaven or do I see trouble," Neena shrugged.
I first met Neena and Joe in Delhi. They were part of my team which was to join the big race. Neena was 24, lithe with a sharp tongue and she had more things packed between her ears them inside her cups. She was an executive with a bank and talked in questions and it didn't take much time for me to fell for her quirky nature. She was a looker and could have turned on a flagging 70 year old without any artificial help.
The big race was an experimental project. It had the jaded corporate burnouts, jerks and lunatics looking for much needed kick to propel their lifeless life's engine with excitement and adventure.
I had been gamer for long and was looking for some real adventure in the real world. I stumbled upon the advert through a gamer friend who casually mentioned it to me during one of our high charged game session which he easily won. It read, "If adventure gives you high join the race". It also said in small prints that "you might not live to regret joining the big race".
Joe was a mild mannered jaded IT engineer. He was a foot taller than me and had curly hair and big arms. Joe seemed much older than 35 but introduced himself as in late 20’s. He was a wee bit darker than my favorite dark chocolate, not withstanding his completion he was a bright bloke and knew well how to connect the dots.
Nobody had a clue about who was managing and running the show. To register, I logged on the site, filled in the details and swiped my credit card for $20000. In 2 weeks, I was sent a mail with names of people who I was teamed up with - Neena & Joe. I was asked to look up for them in Delhi with simple clue and the picture.
Ramsey was my idol when I was being grilled in the catering college to differentiate sauté from frying. He was a celebrity chef with good looks and I nurtured a desire to be like him one day. Getting a footing in the business with not easy. I worked at couple of places before I answered the call of 'Knight Hotel'. They were looking for someone with experience in managing kitchen and I fitted the bill.
I loved my job at the ‘Kitchen of Moe’. It’s a small nook in the Knight Hotel and the management neglected it until I took over. I learned later that I was the only one who answered their advert. They didn’t hope me to do miracles. They seem to have chalked out a plan to go down the bankruptcy route with or without me. However, the fortune of the Knight changed once I took charge.
Moe’s helped me give free rein to my creativity - I experimented with different cuisines. Soon it was talk of the town and I had almost everybody eating out of my hands. I grew in popularity for my style of cooking and the show and drama I put up at Moe every evening.
Time passed and I moved out of Moe and stared my start alone restaurants, 'The Nights Tail'. It went on to win the restaurant of the year for its food and service and my journalist friends kept me in news. Money and fame pulled me into the vortex of the power game and I enjoyed every bit of it. After a while things stared appearing phony to me. My interest started flagging and then one day I heard about the big game.
I took a sabbatical from work and handed the charge to the junior chef. I told everybody I had been invited to Scotland to teach at the culinary college and was also to gain some insight into the their culinary history and fares. To be honest with you, I had absolutely no interest in haggis, scones and cakes but the reason was too perfect to be challenged or rebutted.
[SHARK IN A POND]
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Greatest Fight
I was not too strong but the time had come to save my reputation and live up to my name “Sherdil”. The fight was to happen tomorrow in the scrap yard and almost everybody would be there to witness the mauling of “Sherdil” - I couldn’t get this thought out of my head.
That night, I didn’t eat my dinner. Everybody home was a little surprised; I never went to bed without finishing my meal. I looked fine and didn’t give out any signs of illness… they became more worried than surprised.
The night was cold and one could hear the wailing of the wolf in the nearby jungle. It was a full moon night and the moon washed the entire landscape in its milky rays. I had never seen a night so beautiful. I decided to sleep in the veranda. It was not usual for me sleep there; I was often found there when I couldn’t get in after having the night on town with my friends.
It might be my last day in this town - this thought pierced my heart and my eyes welled up. If I get the beating, I would have to leave this town. I had spent my childhood and my youth in the narrow lanes of this wonderful town. I fell asleep while planning for the next days fight.
I was to fight Ross. He was a ferocious Rottweiler and almost as big as me. He did not walk, he trotted - his trot was steady, full of energy with good stride. He seems to have come from a pure breed and was fed meat and special dog biscuits each day by Lala Chandu to ensure he maintains a shiny coat. Lala Chandu had got him home two years ago on his trip to Germany. Ross was reflection of Lala Chandu - intelligent, hardy and strong. From day one he had threatened my supremacy and I always wished that Lala Chandu kept him indoor but now and then on his daily walk Ross sprayed his scent to challenge my supremacy.
Ross’s stories of dare devilry had spread in the dog circles like wild fire. Every one touted him to be the next big things. The mongrels to gain his favour had been playing sycophants. They lost no opportunity to praise him and they even salute him and follow him around on his walks with their tail between their legs.
I never looked at him like an adversary but it had been build up by dog gangs who didn’t get along well with me. I was teased often about Ross being the next king of streets
The mongrels fed nonsense into Ross's head. Once Nip the scrawniest of the mongrel told Ross that I called him a jackass. On hearing this Ross went into fury and nearly flung his walker off the sidewalk. I confronted Nip and ripped his loins; he had to be carried away by the Municipal Corporation for administering first aid. Nip was never seen again. The mongrels were not stopping at this; they informed Ross that I ripped Nip as he was close to him. Ross couldn't take it anymore and wanted a face off to settle it for once and all. Scrap yard was fixed as the avenue for the big fight.
I was a gentle giant and played well with children and other dogs. I came from a long line of Saint Bernard. My parents were outgoing and sweet tempered. I inherited sweetness from my mother and even temper from my father. My father was looked up to and he managed to maintain harmony among the different dog gangs. After my father passed away the mantle was passed to me - I had been fair in my dealing with the dog matters and was well respected. This face off had a lot on stake for me.
That morning my master called me out for breakfast, I did hear him but my appetite was dead. My master was the kindest man; he had taken care of me after my parents were gone and he had never tied me down to a leash. I kept lying in the veranda. He walked up to me and first ruffled my head and then stroked by coat... I was full of emotions and cuddled up to him. He goaded me to come inside the house and treated me to my favourite biscuits.
Loud cheers greeted me at the scrap yard. My stomach was churning and my mouth was almost dry. I was a bit scared of Ross and feared that we might harm each other. He had a wild temper and the sharpest of the teeth.
I had prepared well and had rehearsed my moves. I knew when to dodge and pounce and when to dig my teeth. I had been in many fights but today’s fight was different – I was fighting for my honour.
Hundreds of dogs and dog gangs had come to the scrap yard to watch the greatest fight ever - that’s how it was promoted. The streets were unusually quite and deserted today.
Ross was already there with the mongrels. Ross seems to have given his walker a slip on the morning walk and Lala Chandu had been looking for Ross everywhere. Ross was beaming with confidence and gnashed his teeth when he saw me; I ignored him.
Without a warning Ross lunged at me. I ducked him and he fell flat on his stomach... swiftly he managed to be on his feet and turned around. He aimed for my leg, he almost had it before I gave a big push... it tore away my flesh. I was hurt and bleeding. I knew Ross came from a strong line of fighters and hunters and the only way to defeat him was to choke him. We growled at each other and he looked straight in my eyes... again he lunged at me but fell short by a foot. I hurled my whole heavy body on him and pressed his head to the ground with my big paws. Ross struggled for breath; I kept pushing down and only let him free when he was motionless. The mongrels made a quick escape when they realised Ross has been defeated and the entire scrap yard welcomed my victory.
Ross didn't move, I got concerned and used my paws to move his limp less body. Thank god he was breathing. I rushed home and pulled at my masters trouser. He knew something was not right... I led him to his car and we drove to the scrap yard. He was shocked to see a mêlée of dogs. I couldn't explain it to him. I guided him to the place where Ross was. He checked for pulse and hauled Ross into the back of his car and carried him to the vet. He also informed Lala Chandu about Ross.
I had been declared the King of streets.
Ross was back on his feet in couple of days. One fine day Ross happened to meet me on his mandatory evening walk led by his walker. Ross gave a friendly growl and thanked me for saving his life. He was a changed dog and so was I. I invited him over to the weekly meeting.
A bill was passed to maintain peace among the brothers and share the leadership and banned the usage of phrase dog eat dog.
That night, I didn’t eat my dinner. Everybody home was a little surprised; I never went to bed without finishing my meal. I looked fine and didn’t give out any signs of illness… they became more worried than surprised.
The night was cold and one could hear the wailing of the wolf in the nearby jungle. It was a full moon night and the moon washed the entire landscape in its milky rays. I had never seen a night so beautiful. I decided to sleep in the veranda. It was not usual for me sleep there; I was often found there when I couldn’t get in after having the night on town with my friends.
It might be my last day in this town - this thought pierced my heart and my eyes welled up. If I get the beating, I would have to leave this town. I had spent my childhood and my youth in the narrow lanes of this wonderful town. I fell asleep while planning for the next days fight.
I was to fight Ross. He was a ferocious Rottweiler and almost as big as me. He did not walk, he trotted - his trot was steady, full of energy with good stride. He seems to have come from a pure breed and was fed meat and special dog biscuits each day by Lala Chandu to ensure he maintains a shiny coat. Lala Chandu had got him home two years ago on his trip to Germany. Ross was reflection of Lala Chandu - intelligent, hardy and strong. From day one he had threatened my supremacy and I always wished that Lala Chandu kept him indoor but now and then on his daily walk Ross sprayed his scent to challenge my supremacy.
Ross’s stories of dare devilry had spread in the dog circles like wild fire. Every one touted him to be the next big things. The mongrels to gain his favour had been playing sycophants. They lost no opportunity to praise him and they even salute him and follow him around on his walks with their tail between their legs.
I never looked at him like an adversary but it had been build up by dog gangs who didn’t get along well with me. I was teased often about Ross being the next king of streets
The mongrels fed nonsense into Ross's head. Once Nip the scrawniest of the mongrel told Ross that I called him a jackass. On hearing this Ross went into fury and nearly flung his walker off the sidewalk. I confronted Nip and ripped his loins; he had to be carried away by the Municipal Corporation for administering first aid. Nip was never seen again. The mongrels were not stopping at this; they informed Ross that I ripped Nip as he was close to him. Ross couldn't take it anymore and wanted a face off to settle it for once and all. Scrap yard was fixed as the avenue for the big fight.
I was a gentle giant and played well with children and other dogs. I came from a long line of Saint Bernard. My parents were outgoing and sweet tempered. I inherited sweetness from my mother and even temper from my father. My father was looked up to and he managed to maintain harmony among the different dog gangs. After my father passed away the mantle was passed to me - I had been fair in my dealing with the dog matters and was well respected. This face off had a lot on stake for me.
That morning my master called me out for breakfast, I did hear him but my appetite was dead. My master was the kindest man; he had taken care of me after my parents were gone and he had never tied me down to a leash. I kept lying in the veranda. He walked up to me and first ruffled my head and then stroked by coat... I was full of emotions and cuddled up to him. He goaded me to come inside the house and treated me to my favourite biscuits.
Loud cheers greeted me at the scrap yard. My stomach was churning and my mouth was almost dry. I was a bit scared of Ross and feared that we might harm each other. He had a wild temper and the sharpest of the teeth.
I had prepared well and had rehearsed my moves. I knew when to dodge and pounce and when to dig my teeth. I had been in many fights but today’s fight was different – I was fighting for my honour.
Hundreds of dogs and dog gangs had come to the scrap yard to watch the greatest fight ever - that’s how it was promoted. The streets were unusually quite and deserted today.
Ross was already there with the mongrels. Ross seems to have given his walker a slip on the morning walk and Lala Chandu had been looking for Ross everywhere. Ross was beaming with confidence and gnashed his teeth when he saw me; I ignored him.
Without a warning Ross lunged at me. I ducked him and he fell flat on his stomach... swiftly he managed to be on his feet and turned around. He aimed for my leg, he almost had it before I gave a big push... it tore away my flesh. I was hurt and bleeding. I knew Ross came from a strong line of fighters and hunters and the only way to defeat him was to choke him. We growled at each other and he looked straight in my eyes... again he lunged at me but fell short by a foot. I hurled my whole heavy body on him and pressed his head to the ground with my big paws. Ross struggled for breath; I kept pushing down and only let him free when he was motionless. The mongrels made a quick escape when they realised Ross has been defeated and the entire scrap yard welcomed my victory.
Ross didn't move, I got concerned and used my paws to move his limp less body. Thank god he was breathing. I rushed home and pulled at my masters trouser. He knew something was not right... I led him to his car and we drove to the scrap yard. He was shocked to see a mêlée of dogs. I couldn't explain it to him. I guided him to the place where Ross was. He checked for pulse and hauled Ross into the back of his car and carried him to the vet. He also informed Lala Chandu about Ross.
I had been declared the King of streets.
Ross was back on his feet in couple of days. One fine day Ross happened to meet me on his mandatory evening walk led by his walker. Ross gave a friendly growl and thanked me for saving his life. He was a changed dog and so was I. I invited him over to the weekly meeting.
A bill was passed to maintain peace among the brothers and share the leadership and banned the usage of phrase dog eat dog.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Mr Toop
We (Pit, Josh and I) had been running for about 20 mins now. I looked back over my shoulder and couldn’t see the caretaker and even the barking of the black dog had died. We were out of breath and lost… we didn’t have an idea where we were and how to get back to the camp.
It was the 1st day of our 3 day educational camp. The class was to study the flora and fauna of this remote area, Katuna. It was believed to be the only place where there were some unique species of plants and animals which had survived the environmental changes of centuries.
“I am hungry and can’t walk any further,” announced Pit. He was the smallest and the noisiest of us all. Had it not been for his craving for the cherries we would had been noshing on some cakes with the afternoon tea. That evening we had strayed away from the camp on the pretext of a short survey of the neighbourhood.
Pit was resting against the crumbly rotting log, his sweaty and black long hair were clinging to his face and standing over him was the lover boy Josh, admiring his good looks in his pocket mirror and combing his wet hair slick a la reservoir dogs. He had more girlfriends than books he packed for school each day.
It was 6 pm, the sun had just slipped behind the Katuna mountains. “It would be dark soon… we need to find our way back. If we are not at the camp by 8 pm, Mr Toop would get panicky and the entire class would blame him for giving us a little too much leash”, Pit sounded concerned for the first time. Josh and I looked at him with incredulous expressions and we all busted into the laughter. The laughter came to an abrupt stop when we heard a shrill howl of a wolf. “Damn, it must be close. Lets find a place to hide… quick,” I shrieked. Josh pulled Pit off the log and we all rushed toward the open end of the jungle. It had a thick foliage and the tall trees… there was still some light for us to find a hiding place.
Back at the camp on learning that we are missing, Mr Toop almost dropped the book which he had brought to read on this yearly school educational camping trip. Mr Toop had been in trouble before because of us but this time if things were to go wrong Mr Toop might have to kiss his job goodbye – he remembered his last meeting with the principle.
A search party was formed. It consisted of the 5 big boys from the class, Mr Toop and the driver. The cook was made the incharge by Mr Toop and was left with a list of instructions. He unwillingly accepted the position feeling a bit proud and doled out extra custard to everybody that night.
While in the jungle we managed to find a small cave. It was almost dark by now and the howling of the wolf had stopped. “We would have to spend the night here and would have to be real quite… I have a sick feeling about this place… and these weird noises,” I said to my exhausted adventurers. Josh was ok with the decision but Pit wanted us to try to get back. We shot down his idea, it was too fraught with danger. Josh pulled out a cigarette and flicked the lighter; we all took deep drags and passed it around... I had a stub in my hand by the time it reached me on the third round - we all felt a bit better. No one spoke for the next hour. Josh removed his jacked and handed it to Pit so that he could use it for pillow. Pit was giving signs of fever and he soon dozed off.
Josh and I decided to take turn to watch out for any wild beast while others slept. I decided to guard first and asked Josh to sleep. I tried to be alert for a while but the days adventure was too much for me and didn’t knew when I slept off.
Mr Toop and the search party had a much better time… they had carried with them baskets of fruits and food for dinner and torches for better visibilities. They got to the cheery orchard and learnt from the caretaker that we had indeed been there and he chased us away before we could pluck some from his orchard. He pointed in the direction we had fled.
When I woke up, we three were in a small cage and were being carried off into the heart of the jungle by dangerously looking brown bodied scantily clad tough men with spears. They looked like the tribal’s of yore. I looked at Josh and then at Pit, they were pale with fear and Pit seemed to have cried his heart out. We were shocked and couldn’t believe how we have landed ourselves in this mess. They had tied us down to the cage and had smeared ash all over our faces. “ They are going to eat us”, Pit started sobbing.
We could hear the drums beat treacherously, the sound grew louder and louder. I had read many a stories where they carried the trespassers into the jungle, make the catch eat good food and later roast them and have a merry dinner of human brain and heart. On hearing this Josh and Pit nearly puked. I told them we need to maintain our wits and keep close and anytime there is an opportunity to escape we would flee.
The tribal’s were led by a leader. He was as broad as tall he was. His appearance was ghostly – the white painted face, a feather crown and tens of colourful beads around the neck and not to mention a menacing look. The tribal’s carried us towards the source of the noise. We could see the big fire from where we were – we started praying in unison, death was definite we thought.
There was a huge assemble of the tribal’s – men, women, children and animals. We were let loose near the big fire and were signalled to keep our head down and follow the leader. Everybody seemed to be shouting their lungs out… I could already visualize us on their plates, roasted and garnished. Suddenly the drums stopped and everybody was quite. We were confused… we looked around… the tribal’s were on their knees. From the canopy shaped shack emerged a beautiful girl followed by the tribal soldiers. We were motioned to bow our head by the leader who brought us here. The princess took up the high seat. We were pushed forward towards the princess… the leader announced something in the local lingo and pointed at us now and then. The princess looked at us intently and smiled… we looked at each other clueless if to smile back or not.
There on, it was a change of fortunes as I had read in the tribal stories. We were treated much better and fed lamb which had been skewered over the big fire with some pungent and sharp alcoholic drink. There was dance, music and noise; we eat and drank like hungry wolves enjoing our last meal.
When I woke up Mr Toop was standing over me. They had combed the entire forest all night to find us bissfully cuddled up in hay and looking rested. There was nothing around no princess, no leader, no tribal and no sign of anything. We narrated the entire episode to very annoyed Mr Toop on our way back to the camp but he found the story difficult to believe.
“We never came across the cherry farm on our way back Mr Toop,” I casually remarked.
Mr Toop stopped and looked ashen. It appeared as if someone had robbed him of his colour. He ordered everybody to pack up - we were leaving back for school.
It was the 1st day of our 3 day educational camp. The class was to study the flora and fauna of this remote area, Katuna. It was believed to be the only place where there were some unique species of plants and animals which had survived the environmental changes of centuries.
“I am hungry and can’t walk any further,” announced Pit. He was the smallest and the noisiest of us all. Had it not been for his craving for the cherries we would had been noshing on some cakes with the afternoon tea. That evening we had strayed away from the camp on the pretext of a short survey of the neighbourhood.
Pit was resting against the crumbly rotting log, his sweaty and black long hair were clinging to his face and standing over him was the lover boy Josh, admiring his good looks in his pocket mirror and combing his wet hair slick a la reservoir dogs. He had more girlfriends than books he packed for school each day.
It was 6 pm, the sun had just slipped behind the Katuna mountains. “It would be dark soon… we need to find our way back. If we are not at the camp by 8 pm, Mr Toop would get panicky and the entire class would blame him for giving us a little too much leash”, Pit sounded concerned for the first time. Josh and I looked at him with incredulous expressions and we all busted into the laughter. The laughter came to an abrupt stop when we heard a shrill howl of a wolf. “Damn, it must be close. Lets find a place to hide… quick,” I shrieked. Josh pulled Pit off the log and we all rushed toward the open end of the jungle. It had a thick foliage and the tall trees… there was still some light for us to find a hiding place.
Back at the camp on learning that we are missing, Mr Toop almost dropped the book which he had brought to read on this yearly school educational camping trip. Mr Toop had been in trouble before because of us but this time if things were to go wrong Mr Toop might have to kiss his job goodbye – he remembered his last meeting with the principle.
A search party was formed. It consisted of the 5 big boys from the class, Mr Toop and the driver. The cook was made the incharge by Mr Toop and was left with a list of instructions. He unwillingly accepted the position feeling a bit proud and doled out extra custard to everybody that night.
While in the jungle we managed to find a small cave. It was almost dark by now and the howling of the wolf had stopped. “We would have to spend the night here and would have to be real quite… I have a sick feeling about this place… and these weird noises,” I said to my exhausted adventurers. Josh was ok with the decision but Pit wanted us to try to get back. We shot down his idea, it was too fraught with danger. Josh pulled out a cigarette and flicked the lighter; we all took deep drags and passed it around... I had a stub in my hand by the time it reached me on the third round - we all felt a bit better. No one spoke for the next hour. Josh removed his jacked and handed it to Pit so that he could use it for pillow. Pit was giving signs of fever and he soon dozed off.
Josh and I decided to take turn to watch out for any wild beast while others slept. I decided to guard first and asked Josh to sleep. I tried to be alert for a while but the days adventure was too much for me and didn’t knew when I slept off.
Mr Toop and the search party had a much better time… they had carried with them baskets of fruits and food for dinner and torches for better visibilities. They got to the cheery orchard and learnt from the caretaker that we had indeed been there and he chased us away before we could pluck some from his orchard. He pointed in the direction we had fled.
When I woke up, we three were in a small cage and were being carried off into the heart of the jungle by dangerously looking brown bodied scantily clad tough men with spears. They looked like the tribal’s of yore. I looked at Josh and then at Pit, they were pale with fear and Pit seemed to have cried his heart out. We were shocked and couldn’t believe how we have landed ourselves in this mess. They had tied us down to the cage and had smeared ash all over our faces. “ They are going to eat us”, Pit started sobbing.
We could hear the drums beat treacherously, the sound grew louder and louder. I had read many a stories where they carried the trespassers into the jungle, make the catch eat good food and later roast them and have a merry dinner of human brain and heart. On hearing this Josh and Pit nearly puked. I told them we need to maintain our wits and keep close and anytime there is an opportunity to escape we would flee.
The tribal’s were led by a leader. He was as broad as tall he was. His appearance was ghostly – the white painted face, a feather crown and tens of colourful beads around the neck and not to mention a menacing look. The tribal’s carried us towards the source of the noise. We could see the big fire from where we were – we started praying in unison, death was definite we thought.
There was a huge assemble of the tribal’s – men, women, children and animals. We were let loose near the big fire and were signalled to keep our head down and follow the leader. Everybody seemed to be shouting their lungs out… I could already visualize us on their plates, roasted and garnished. Suddenly the drums stopped and everybody was quite. We were confused… we looked around… the tribal’s were on their knees. From the canopy shaped shack emerged a beautiful girl followed by the tribal soldiers. We were motioned to bow our head by the leader who brought us here. The princess took up the high seat. We were pushed forward towards the princess… the leader announced something in the local lingo and pointed at us now and then. The princess looked at us intently and smiled… we looked at each other clueless if to smile back or not.
There on, it was a change of fortunes as I had read in the tribal stories. We were treated much better and fed lamb which had been skewered over the big fire with some pungent and sharp alcoholic drink. There was dance, music and noise; we eat and drank like hungry wolves enjoing our last meal.
When I woke up Mr Toop was standing over me. They had combed the entire forest all night to find us bissfully cuddled up in hay and looking rested. There was nothing around no princess, no leader, no tribal and no sign of anything. We narrated the entire episode to very annoyed Mr Toop on our way back to the camp but he found the story difficult to believe.
“We never came across the cherry farm on our way back Mr Toop,” I casually remarked.
Mr Toop stopped and looked ashen. It appeared as if someone had robbed him of his colour. He ordered everybody to pack up - we were leaving back for school.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Jugnu
It was a special day for most including me in the village. One of my cousin brother was getting married to his love from the adjoining village. He had to wait five long years before he could convince the family; the girl did not belong to the same cast. He overcome odds and the mores of the society to marry her.
The house was beautifully lighted. Streamers of small blinking lights and shiny paper strips ran all around the house giving it an appearance of a well lit night sky. One could also smell the fresh coat of paint which added to brightness under the shimmering lights. The place was buzzing with excited chatter and laughter. The womenfolk had finally got a respite from the incessant housework and chores and the men were busy making arrangement to receive the bride - the 'barat' which was expected any moment. The kids were not to be left behind, they ran around chasing each other; the place provided an excellent playground for hide and seek.
This story is not about the wedding. It’s about Jugnu, the village drunkard. I happen to meet him when I was looking for a hot cup of tea to keep myself warm on that chilly October evening.
Jugnu looks out for these special occasions as he gets to drink as much as he can without any care. Everybody in the village felt that he has destroyed himself while Jugnu blames it on the time.
"Do not delay punditji, I want to get married in this life", Jugnu jokingly pleaded with the punditji. "I am busy today... don't worry we would sit someday soon and talk about it", said punditji trying to avoid Jugnu. Punditji gave him a slip and disappeared in the merrymaking wedding crowd.
Jugnu had withered with time but still towered over the gentle folks of the village; he was at least a foot taller than most. While I settled on a comfortable chair with my cuppa of tea, Jugnu was going on with his monologue after punditji had left the stage. He tried to hide that he had been drinking but his breath gave it away.
“You tell me sir, what should a man like me do when these girls pursue me to marry them? I have three chasing me but there is this one girl who is after my life. I have to get this done before I bid adieu to the world”. To be polite and save myself from offending him I nodded and smiled. Taking this as a cue Jugnu pulled a chair next to me and continued.
“I was one of the best volleyball player in the school. I could spike the ball just next to the net in the opposition’s court. I was lauded and touted as the volleyball prodigy. I won many a shields and trophies for my school. As the fate had it, I tasted this bloody alcohol.
My grandfather and father did well in education and were looked up to in this small part of the country but I dropped out of school. I couldn’t even get past the 10th standard. I wasn’t too bright a student and couldn’t differentiate geography from history. I didn’t apply myself and fancied myself to be the local hero; it was my choice or my fate. Once I had no association with the school my chances of making it big in the volleyball circuit were gone. I had no choice but to help the family in the fields. I failed again… I couldn’t set my mind on doing the field work and preferred the company of the villager loafers and today I lead them.
If I would had been married at the right time, I would had couple of kids today.
I want to get married and I can’t delay… I am 39 and have been drinking for past 21 years. I have met many beautiful girls and have had a good time with them. They strayed me but I do not blame them. I still remember this fair frail girl who I met when I had been to Calcutta looking for a good price for my farm produce. When away from home it was a secret ritual for us youngsters to look for a prostitute and have a good time before we come back to the villages and and went back to doing the same thing over and over again. It helped us to exploit our youth and taste freedom.
I fell for her and wanted to marry her. She was a Muslim, she was too beautiful - straight from heaven… I couldn’t take my eyes off her and was charmed. Without a thought I asked her to marry me. She though I was joking but when I proposed again she was taken aback... I feel I was the only man who had been kind enough to make this offer to her. She told me that she was a Muslim and it would be impossible for them to get acceptance. Moreover the pimp would not let her slip; if he finds about any plans to escape the city he would slaughter both. I even lied and tried to pass myself as a Muslim from Ghaziabad to counter her objection. She was amused by my feeble attempt and laughed her head off. I looked on while she had a hearty laugh - I had never seen such a beautiful laughter in my life.
She could see the love and desperation in my eyes to possess her for life. I wanted her to run off with me. I tried to argue and convince her that religion and caste are man made; to the almighty all are equal. She refused to run off with me... she feared for my life. She asked me to have a good time with her and when I was about to leave she handed me 1000 rupees for my journey back home. I was heart broken.
Each day I remember her and drink to her… I could have been somebody had it not for the bad times. No man is bad; it’s the time which is good or bad”.
I barely drank the tea while he told me his story… I was moved and tried to sympathize with him by mumbling some comfort words. I could no longer look into his moist eyes.
“The 'barat' is here… they have brought the bride… she is beautiful", someone shouted and broke my attention. Their was noise and commotion all around. Jugnu went on with his monologue while I left the place to watch the splendid 'barat'.
The house was beautifully lighted. Streamers of small blinking lights and shiny paper strips ran all around the house giving it an appearance of a well lit night sky. One could also smell the fresh coat of paint which added to brightness under the shimmering lights. The place was buzzing with excited chatter and laughter. The womenfolk had finally got a respite from the incessant housework and chores and the men were busy making arrangement to receive the bride - the 'barat' which was expected any moment. The kids were not to be left behind, they ran around chasing each other; the place provided an excellent playground for hide and seek.
This story is not about the wedding. It’s about Jugnu, the village drunkard. I happen to meet him when I was looking for a hot cup of tea to keep myself warm on that chilly October evening.
Jugnu looks out for these special occasions as he gets to drink as much as he can without any care. Everybody in the village felt that he has destroyed himself while Jugnu blames it on the time.
"Do not delay punditji, I want to get married in this life", Jugnu jokingly pleaded with the punditji. "I am busy today... don't worry we would sit someday soon and talk about it", said punditji trying to avoid Jugnu. Punditji gave him a slip and disappeared in the merrymaking wedding crowd.
Jugnu had withered with time but still towered over the gentle folks of the village; he was at least a foot taller than most. While I settled on a comfortable chair with my cuppa of tea, Jugnu was going on with his monologue after punditji had left the stage. He tried to hide that he had been drinking but his breath gave it away.
“You tell me sir, what should a man like me do when these girls pursue me to marry them? I have three chasing me but there is this one girl who is after my life. I have to get this done before I bid adieu to the world”. To be polite and save myself from offending him I nodded and smiled. Taking this as a cue Jugnu pulled a chair next to me and continued.
“I was one of the best volleyball player in the school. I could spike the ball just next to the net in the opposition’s court. I was lauded and touted as the volleyball prodigy. I won many a shields and trophies for my school. As the fate had it, I tasted this bloody alcohol.
My grandfather and father did well in education and were looked up to in this small part of the country but I dropped out of school. I couldn’t even get past the 10th standard. I wasn’t too bright a student and couldn’t differentiate geography from history. I didn’t apply myself and fancied myself to be the local hero; it was my choice or my fate. Once I had no association with the school my chances of making it big in the volleyball circuit were gone. I had no choice but to help the family in the fields. I failed again… I couldn’t set my mind on doing the field work and preferred the company of the villager loafers and today I lead them.
If I would had been married at the right time, I would had couple of kids today.
I want to get married and I can’t delay… I am 39 and have been drinking for past 21 years. I have met many beautiful girls and have had a good time with them. They strayed me but I do not blame them. I still remember this fair frail girl who I met when I had been to Calcutta looking for a good price for my farm produce. When away from home it was a secret ritual for us youngsters to look for a prostitute and have a good time before we come back to the villages and and went back to doing the same thing over and over again. It helped us to exploit our youth and taste freedom.
I fell for her and wanted to marry her. She was a Muslim, she was too beautiful - straight from heaven… I couldn’t take my eyes off her and was charmed. Without a thought I asked her to marry me. She though I was joking but when I proposed again she was taken aback... I feel I was the only man who had been kind enough to make this offer to her. She told me that she was a Muslim and it would be impossible for them to get acceptance. Moreover the pimp would not let her slip; if he finds about any plans to escape the city he would slaughter both. I even lied and tried to pass myself as a Muslim from Ghaziabad to counter her objection. She was amused by my feeble attempt and laughed her head off. I looked on while she had a hearty laugh - I had never seen such a beautiful laughter in my life.
She could see the love and desperation in my eyes to possess her for life. I wanted her to run off with me. I tried to argue and convince her that religion and caste are man made; to the almighty all are equal. She refused to run off with me... she feared for my life. She asked me to have a good time with her and when I was about to leave she handed me 1000 rupees for my journey back home. I was heart broken.
Each day I remember her and drink to her… I could have been somebody had it not for the bad times. No man is bad; it’s the time which is good or bad”.
I barely drank the tea while he told me his story… I was moved and tried to sympathize with him by mumbling some comfort words. I could no longer look into his moist eyes.
“The 'barat' is here… they have brought the bride… she is beautiful", someone shouted and broke my attention. Their was noise and commotion all around. Jugnu went on with his monologue while I left the place to watch the splendid 'barat'.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Red Roses
I resisted calling her. It was too early – she was a late riser. I hired a taxi and picked some red roses on the way home. She liked roses and the red were her favorite. I decided to catch her leaving for work; her carpoll used to come around 10 A.M.
Their was a spring in my step. I was excited about my decision... I felt free of the guilt that I had carried around - it was a redemption day. I had Elton John crooning 'can you feel the love tonight' on my music system; I hummed along. It was 9 A.M. I had an hour to shave, shower and eat. Then the phone rang - it was Vijay. "The case information has leaked to the media. They are all outside. I do not know what to do", he sounded nervous and scared.
The news of 'tiger killing' was over all. The media had found their breaking news and the opposition party a chance to get back at the ruling government. It besmirch the image of the ruling government, they ran for cover and in haste disassociated themselves from Sh. Lal Chand.
"Avoid saying anything. If you can't, tell them 'the crime' is under investigation and it’s too early to make any comment. Tell them as and when we would have more information they would be briefed", I offered him the simplest of the advice from my experience facing the media. I also asked him to stay calm and look good for the camera. "Oh! shup up", he snapped, he didn’t take the ‘look good for the camera’ advise kindly.
“And get out of there as soon as you can", I asked him changing my tone.
The 'tiger killing case' was played over and over again on almost all the news channels. Most of them presented it tastelessly; I felt pity for the poor viewers and the dead tiger.
I called up the Boss to apprise him of the situation. “What is Vijay doing there? Why did you let him stay?...” He was concerned and asked me more questions than I expected. I assured him that I have spoken to Vijay and briefed him and he would be out of Junna soon. Boss was more concerned about how he would handle the journalists. I got caught up in the whirlwind of the case. I lost sense of time.
It was 12 P.M. The roses had lost their shine and looked limp. Kavita would not have liked them - I flung the bunch in the trash can sitting next to my writing table. By that time the excitement to meet her had turned into anger and helplessness.
I tried her number and was greeted by the message, “The phone is out of coverage area…” I tried again and then again and again and felt frustrated. I had to tell her what she was to me. It felt heavy and I wanted to get it out of my chest. I rushed to her house only to find it locked. I turned home and slept off; I was exhausted by the day’s events.
Loud knocking on the door jolted me out of my deep sleep. I checked my watch, it was 8 P.M. I opened the door to find Vijay and Kavita. Vijay looked shaken and tired - he had a long day. He handed me the files said goodbye to Kavita and left. She walked in quietly.
We didn’t exchange a word for the next 30 minutes and then she broke the silence. "I had to rush to Junna to cover the story... Vijay told me everything”, I could feel the warmth and admiration in her words. She walked over to the trash can and picked up the bunch of limply dead roses. She looked at me and said,"they are beautiful". I looked into her eyes, she still loved me and was ready for a new start. I took her hand and pressed it tightly.
Their was a spring in my step. I was excited about my decision... I felt free of the guilt that I had carried around - it was a redemption day. I had Elton John crooning 'can you feel the love tonight' on my music system; I hummed along. It was 9 A.M. I had an hour to shave, shower and eat. Then the phone rang - it was Vijay. "The case information has leaked to the media. They are all outside. I do not know what to do", he sounded nervous and scared.
The news of 'tiger killing' was over all. The media had found their breaking news and the opposition party a chance to get back at the ruling government. It besmirch the image of the ruling government, they ran for cover and in haste disassociated themselves from Sh. Lal Chand.
"Avoid saying anything. If you can't, tell them 'the crime' is under investigation and it’s too early to make any comment. Tell them as and when we would have more information they would be briefed", I offered him the simplest of the advice from my experience facing the media. I also asked him to stay calm and look good for the camera. "Oh! shup up", he snapped, he didn’t take the ‘look good for the camera’ advise kindly.
“And get out of there as soon as you can", I asked him changing my tone.
The 'tiger killing case' was played over and over again on almost all the news channels. Most of them presented it tastelessly; I felt pity for the poor viewers and the dead tiger.
I called up the Boss to apprise him of the situation. “What is Vijay doing there? Why did you let him stay?...” He was concerned and asked me more questions than I expected. I assured him that I have spoken to Vijay and briefed him and he would be out of Junna soon. Boss was more concerned about how he would handle the journalists. I got caught up in the whirlwind of the case. I lost sense of time.
It was 12 P.M. The roses had lost their shine and looked limp. Kavita would not have liked them - I flung the bunch in the trash can sitting next to my writing table. By that time the excitement to meet her had turned into anger and helplessness.
I tried her number and was greeted by the message, “The phone is out of coverage area…” I tried again and then again and again and felt frustrated. I had to tell her what she was to me. It felt heavy and I wanted to get it out of my chest. I rushed to her house only to find it locked. I turned home and slept off; I was exhausted by the day’s events.
Loud knocking on the door jolted me out of my deep sleep. I checked my watch, it was 8 P.M. I opened the door to find Vijay and Kavita. Vijay looked shaken and tired - he had a long day. He handed me the files said goodbye to Kavita and left. She walked in quietly.
We didn’t exchange a word for the next 30 minutes and then she broke the silence. "I had to rush to Junna to cover the story... Vijay told me everything”, I could feel the warmth and admiration in her words. She walked over to the trash can and picked up the bunch of limply dead roses. She looked at me and said,"they are beautiful". I looked into her eyes, she still loved me and was ready for a new start. I took her hand and pressed it tightly.
Friday, October 2, 2009
2. The Dead Tiger
It was 6:30 AM when we reached the rest house. The 'chowkidar' at entrance was still huddled up with the blanket on the stool. He displayed amazing balance and managed to recover his fall each time he nodded off a little too much on one side.
“Chor, chor …” Vijay hollered and woke up the sleepy skinny 'chowkidar'. I was familiar with his silly pranks… it didn’t amuse me however it did upset the 'chowkidar' when he realized it was a joke played on him.
We were led in the rest house and then into the big twin room after we had signed up the visitors register. I flipped the pages to see who all have been here recently; most of the names were unfamiliar, however I did recognize Sh. Lal Chand who had been in the rest house about five days ago.
I slept off as soon as my tired body met the soft mattress. Vijay stayed up. He was hungry and asked the caretaker to rush some 'aloo paranth' and tea while he worked on the case. We had to be at the office of District Forest Office at 11 AM to dig deeper into the tiger killing case.
“Damn, do you want to sleep all your life? We have to be at the forest office in another 30 mins. Come on wake up…” I had heard it before. Vijay was arranging his shaving kit and looked quite dapper in his new blazer. I rushed into the bathroom and was out in 10 mins and still Vijay was busy, this time arranging things in his bag. I was out of the room much before Vijay. I beat him again.
D.F.O sahib had sent us his Jeep. We were in his office by 11:30. D.F.O sahib was barely 40 and looked quite sharp in his suite. I felt awkward in the company of two well dressed men. We were soon discussing business.
The forest guard had found a dead tiger near Sandhu yesterday morning. Sandhu was about 10 Km from Junna. After post-mortem it was found that the tiger was shot twice in the stomach and died a slow painful death.
The report said that it appeared the tiger was shot by a party of amateur hunters who didn’t chase the tiger after shooting. The tiger must have roamed around with his injuries for 3 days and died of hunger and thirst.
We were asked to inspect the dead tiger before it could be disposed off; it had starting putrefying. I couldn’t stand the stench however Vijay inspected the dead tiger like a true professional. He made observations in his little notepad. Next step was to summon the S.H.O of the area. He made a sheepish entry into the room and shared the details of his investigation and details of the people who own a licensed gun in the area. His observation was that the tiger could have been shot by the Billu gang of poachers… as they only possessed latest hunting rifles.
Vijay was diligently recording the details of the interviews. He interviewed anyone and everyone who was brought into the room. Some of them had seen the tiger, some had touched it and some had merely heard about it.
I was drifting between thought of Kavita and the dead tiger. The dead tiger had some kind of effect on me. It compelled me to a bit philosophical and takes a rational view of life’s choices and decisions before it was too late. I made up my mind to see Kavita’s as soon as I was back and ask her to marry me.
I looked at my watch, I was getting impatient. It was 4 PM. We were getting nowhere. S.H.O was definite that it was Billu gang but there was no proof to support it. D.F.O sahib shared all that he had seen and was told.
“Did you check if we have had any visitors in Junna lately?” I directed my question at the S.H.O. “We have had many since Sh. Lal Chand got the ministry. He is a true ‘junta ka sewak’. He has connected this sleepy town to the entire county by train and has spent crores on improving the roads and schools…” S.H.O seemed as impressed as me with Sh. Lal Chand’s achievements and work.
“I mean last week”.
S.H.O was taken aback. “Sh. Lal Chand was in rest house about 5 days ago. I would want you to check the purposed of his visit. Who were with him? When he checked in and when he left? And you can start with the caretaker of the rest house.” There was silence in the room.
We thanked the D.F.O sahib for his time and came back to the rest house followed by S.H.O.
On questioning, the caretaker informed that Sh. Lal Chand came late in the evening with a party of 5-6 men who talked among themselves in English. They had dinner and left in the night only to return early in the morning and left the rest house after having lunch. All of them appeared to be excited about something they had done in the night.
I directed the S.H.O to work on the lead.
Vijay wanted to stay the night there but I had Kavita on mind. I took the last train out of Junna and all along prepared myself to propose Kavita. I was back at the railway platform which I left a night ago. The mongrels and the hawkers were back and busy with their business. I looked at my expensive Swiss made wrist watch. It was 7 AM. A bright day awaited me.
“Chor, chor …” Vijay hollered and woke up the sleepy skinny 'chowkidar'. I was familiar with his silly pranks… it didn’t amuse me however it did upset the 'chowkidar' when he realized it was a joke played on him.
We were led in the rest house and then into the big twin room after we had signed up the visitors register. I flipped the pages to see who all have been here recently; most of the names were unfamiliar, however I did recognize Sh. Lal Chand who had been in the rest house about five days ago.
I slept off as soon as my tired body met the soft mattress. Vijay stayed up. He was hungry and asked the caretaker to rush some 'aloo paranth' and tea while he worked on the case. We had to be at the office of District Forest Office at 11 AM to dig deeper into the tiger killing case.
“Damn, do you want to sleep all your life? We have to be at the forest office in another 30 mins. Come on wake up…” I had heard it before. Vijay was arranging his shaving kit and looked quite dapper in his new blazer. I rushed into the bathroom and was out in 10 mins and still Vijay was busy, this time arranging things in his bag. I was out of the room much before Vijay. I beat him again.
D.F.O sahib had sent us his Jeep. We were in his office by 11:30. D.F.O sahib was barely 40 and looked quite sharp in his suite. I felt awkward in the company of two well dressed men. We were soon discussing business.
The forest guard had found a dead tiger near Sandhu yesterday morning. Sandhu was about 10 Km from Junna. After post-mortem it was found that the tiger was shot twice in the stomach and died a slow painful death.
The report said that it appeared the tiger was shot by a party of amateur hunters who didn’t chase the tiger after shooting. The tiger must have roamed around with his injuries for 3 days and died of hunger and thirst.
We were asked to inspect the dead tiger before it could be disposed off; it had starting putrefying. I couldn’t stand the stench however Vijay inspected the dead tiger like a true professional. He made observations in his little notepad. Next step was to summon the S.H.O of the area. He made a sheepish entry into the room and shared the details of his investigation and details of the people who own a licensed gun in the area. His observation was that the tiger could have been shot by the Billu gang of poachers… as they only possessed latest hunting rifles.
Vijay was diligently recording the details of the interviews. He interviewed anyone and everyone who was brought into the room. Some of them had seen the tiger, some had touched it and some had merely heard about it.
I was drifting between thought of Kavita and the dead tiger. The dead tiger had some kind of effect on me. It compelled me to a bit philosophical and takes a rational view of life’s choices and decisions before it was too late. I made up my mind to see Kavita’s as soon as I was back and ask her to marry me.
I looked at my watch, I was getting impatient. It was 4 PM. We were getting nowhere. S.H.O was definite that it was Billu gang but there was no proof to support it. D.F.O sahib shared all that he had seen and was told.
“Did you check if we have had any visitors in Junna lately?” I directed my question at the S.H.O. “We have had many since Sh. Lal Chand got the ministry. He is a true ‘junta ka sewak’. He has connected this sleepy town to the entire county by train and has spent crores on improving the roads and schools…” S.H.O seemed as impressed as me with Sh. Lal Chand’s achievements and work.
“I mean last week”.
S.H.O was taken aback. “Sh. Lal Chand was in rest house about 5 days ago. I would want you to check the purposed of his visit. Who were with him? When he checked in and when he left? And you can start with the caretaker of the rest house.” There was silence in the room.
We thanked the D.F.O sahib for his time and came back to the rest house followed by S.H.O.
On questioning, the caretaker informed that Sh. Lal Chand came late in the evening with a party of 5-6 men who talked among themselves in English. They had dinner and left in the night only to return early in the morning and left the rest house after having lunch. All of them appeared to be excited about something they had done in the night.
I directed the S.H.O to work on the lead.
Vijay wanted to stay the night there but I had Kavita on mind. I took the last train out of Junna and all along prepared myself to propose Kavita. I was back at the railway platform which I left a night ago. The mongrels and the hawkers were back and busy with their business. I looked at my expensive Swiss made wrist watch. It was 7 AM. A bright day awaited me.
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