Useless Park Scene

The streetlight shines brightly against a deep blue night sky. Of the five guys present in that corner of the  parking lot,  two are sitting on the stairs, one stands, leaning against a parked car, and two are sitting on the broad cemented table like upward projection, which borders the staircase.

They are talking about love. One of them, to be precise, the one sitting on the steps, is very drunk and is in a visibly bad shape, he looks completely distraught. One of the two sitting on the cemented ledge of the stairs is crushing weed while the one standing is talking animatedly.

"Uh have to believe me on this mate; everyone comes alone, stays alone and goes alone. No one is here for you, nor are you for anyone" then aiming his speech at the drunk one, he said, "If that bitch fucked u over, you should just not give a fuck about her anymore."

A guard, dressed in a combination of blue and black, passes them by blowing a shrill whistle, the guy sitting next to the one crushing weed gestures towards the guard and the one crushing weed stops, looks at the guard, shrugs and seals a nicely rolled slim joint with a swift lick of his tongue.

The one sitting next to the drunken one stares blankly into the space just above the head of the one standing.

The joint is boomed by the guy sitting next to the one crushing, who in turn, sits, looking at the drunken one, who is staring at the ground, intensely.

"She refused to acknowledge me" said the drunken one, still staring at the ground, "you see those people standing there? " he said pointing at a family standing next to their car, at the other end of the parking lot, "she behaved just as they would behave if I went to talk to them, just like total stranger.  "

The guard passes them by,  whistling again; gesturing to other guards, but does not look at them. The joint moves to the guy standing, who now sits between the two guys sitting on the cemented thing.

"You don’t smoke?" asked the guy who had rolled the j to the drunk one, who is now staring at the number plate of a car in front of him on which the guy now smoking the j was leaning previously.

"No mite, don`t make him smoke, he is already too high " he says

"But it`ll do him good " countered the other one, stretching the middle of the word a little.

"No I don`t smoke " finally replied the drunk one, slowly, and with a snigger. 

The j goes to the roller, who takes a long chill 'um drag. Suddenly the one who was sitting next to him previously, stands up, dusts his ass, and says, "Bhai, I am leaving” emphasizing on the ‘I’ and without saying anything else, leaves. The two sitting on the cemented thing, keep looking in the direction of the departing one, while the other two keep their gaze fixed at different things, as before.

The night sky turns into a total black from deep blue and suddenly, getting all sentimental about what was going on around, the one who was crushing weed, says "the point dude is, she is not coming back? Is she? So find a new one. How long can you go on chasing the same chick? One has to move on, one day or the other, so why not now? "I have loved Bhai, I was in love and I am in love still, even when she has refused me " said the drunk in a drunk tone, " and now I will wait for her my entire life, and you know what? " he said with such excitement, that the rest were compelled to repeat,     "what ".

"Now even if she comes back, I won`t let her into my life again, at the same time I`ll not marry or anything, but wait for her."

There was such aggression in his voice that it made his statement believable, the passion in his bloodshot red eyes was enough to square any rebuttal,

"Look at the way he is talking now mite" is all that is produced, "don`t you get mah point bout individuality mite? Not at all?"follows.

Suddenly the silent one, stands up from the stairs, and leaves saying, "nature`s call" grinning.

"He talks?" Says the roller sarcastically, but not loud enough for the answerer of the nature`s call to hear.

The two left on the cemented thing are passing the j between them, while the drunken one sits staring at the number plate as before.

"So we ah goin to this party in Hauz Khas village mite, do uh wanna come? "

"Me? Dude. No. Now? Not possible." Says the roller who is fidgeting with his phone, and finally after making several hesitant finger touches, comes a broken wail of Thom Yorke, moaning,

Don`t get any /big idea / they are not gonna happen.

The one gone to answer natures call comes back. Grinning.

"Let`s go then, mite, towards booze and chicks! "

The drunken one looks up, the ground below is wet. He had been crying. The roller stubs the smoldering roach into the mud, next to the stairs and says, "ok then see you tomorrow " and leaves after shaking hands with everyone. Thom 's voice trailing behind him,

You go to hell for all your dirty mind is thinking.

"Let`s go mite, no point crying" says the only one seated on the cemented thing now and they both climb the stairs and leaves.

The lamp flickers for a while and then holding its ground against the dark, continues shining against a pitch black night sky.

Hilltop Story 1

Nothing much happened. Like always. I sat dreaming atop those little hills like I had done a million times before. The usual winter sun was shining brightly and there was a crowd,  as it happens, usually on such days.
                   Some school kids were hanging around and some old ladies were basking in the sun as were the stray dogs. The chaiwalas and the papadwalas were shunting around screaming from time to time, chai!!! Chai!!!  Or papad!!! Papad! Just like they usually did, everyday in their life.
              There also came a chatpatchannawala. His days were fixed.  But even he was usually there. Almost everyday of his life, screaming his harsh chatpat channa!!! Chatpat channa!!
                    The school kids who were some four five fifth class students, called the chatpatchannawala, who was alredy lurking near them tempting them with the chatpati redolence, his screams reduced to cooing, and a strange twinkle in his eyes. His boni time(first sale of the day), like his usual boni time. After a little childish bargaining that only children can do, they settled on a price and the usual transaction was going to  happen in which the producer, though may not be primary, would get a price for his product by a consumer who shows interest in that product. 
                                       But before this could happen something unusual happened and an older school kid came to them, in fact materialized from nowhere and took the younger kids with him to the school bus.
              Though not usual, or an everyday affair, but not even rare as the northern sunlight, whatever that is, the twinkle in the chatpatchannawalas eyes lingered on for a while and then vanished as he let out his usual harsh screams, chatpat channa!! Chatpat channa!! 
                                           And I sat like I  usually did on  that hilltop where you can find me anytime. Everyday. Where nothing happened.

The Day of the Fight

To be honest one has to be either stupid or slyly inquestive about the situation. If one is former then its the end of the story, but if one is later, then at some point of time one invariably realises that there is no truth to be honest about and one has to mearly go with the flow of things and if one has moral qualms then one has to simply adopt some side kicks, so to speak, to make up for the hurt done to certain random\un-random people during the flow.

This i didn`t realize when thepolice came to D school and how could i? i had no truth to be honest about.But because everyone wants to be honest but not stupid, they kept asking questions and more the questions more the answers and thus,even before poor Mole had the chance to wipe his blood soaked face people wrer alredy talking about a death, a rape and if not an alien attack then at least some talk about Uncle Sam was on.

All i knew was that someone was hurt, a shot was fired, claim of someone`s death was being made by people directly involved in the action and i had seen a blood soaked underwear which was too torn to tell the gender of the owner; and all this i sang to the fat lady officer who had been eating Mole with her eyes while the Jat policeman tried to locate Mole`s dislocated shoulder who was shouting most pathetically, with one arm raised over his head,"I need professional help!"

What had really happened, as i was told and inferred myself was that somehow the 'Revolution' which had shat at various places in our lives, markets, libraries, cafes and even on Che`s cap had egged some fifteen jat men to kill our John Lennon, and i swear this is all that happened, but how come John became John, Che Che and revolution became shit could only be debated in front of Godot who was though, conspicuous by his absence, wasn`t missed at all.

In the meantime an elderly married couple, greatly disturbed by the sudden hue and cry raised due to the unexpected situation, made faces and started singing Hallelujah; a gang of vultures sat smiling smugly hoping someone had really died; some un-whory looking girls lit fags under a tree while some whory looking girls gratefully gavethem light, saying 'Blah Blah Blah' followed by hyena laugh.And yeah all this while, Mithun the J.P.Stall boy was running mad collecting empty cups which he thought everyone was after.

The day had been sunny, nice and warm with the doobies doing the usual chirpy rounds. Chill`ums had been conspicuous by their absence so was Autin, the head dopper of D school. Everything was going well and good when suddenly a chort of some fifteen Jats came in from the main gate and before anyone could say 'shit', Mole was being held by two jats and a third one, who happened to be spearheading the whole jat movement, was delievering blows into his face. the other Jats were increasing the senic beauty of the place and tried to look important and aggressive.

Now i don`t know why but amidst all this i was suddenly overcome with a feeling of knowing the truth and also, though not much, of saving Mole. so i made it to the center of the action and started shouting,'why are you hitting him, leave him alone'. I sure as hell looked the lamest of all. I was still asking the same questions when suddenly the head guy jumped on me and grabing me by my collar shouted,' you don`t come in between bhenchod, you don`t come in between!' This calmed all my desire to know the truth and i sat in a corner waiting for them to finish bashing up Mole. I was still in shock when Mole came back and said with a groggy growl,'seen my glasses' which seemed to be coming from his stomach. The police came while we were looking for his glasses.

The flow of things found me sitting in the PCR going somewhere. Next to me sat Mole, his eyes shut and his head slowly going up and down with the moving car.The PCR entered a building which turned out to be Hindu Rao hospital and Mole started sweet talking eveyone while I was sent away to get some water to drink. when i came back everything seemed fine and Mole was happily chatting with the lady officer who was brimming with loving affection as he told her something about Ravan and his Lanka. The bastard can talk shit, smooth shit.

The only thing we were worried about when the PCR left us in front of Kamala Nagar Mc Donold was Mole`s glasses and obviously I was curious to know why had the whole thing had taken place. We went to his room where we were joined by the gang and the joints did chirpy rounds again and i forgot all about thr truth for doobies rendered me nor stupid neither inquesitive and to this day i do not know why had the jats been afte Mole`s life.