The tri-color flags fly high. The drums beat on. The ecstatic screams ring out loud. The fireworks light up the night sky. The arch-enemy has been vanquished and sent home. Victory is ours to savor. The moment seems to last forever.
At least we wish it does.
India have earned a place in the Cricket World Cup final after defeating neighbors and perennial rivals Pakistan. It’s been 28 long years since we have won this trophy. 28 years of agonizing defeats and bitter disappointments. Now, the cricket-crazed fans of the world’s second most populous country have another chance to hope, to dream, to wish upon a star.
Can this team cross that final hurdle when so many promising Indian teams in the past have flattered to deceive? Will MS Dhoni lift the same trophy that the legendary Kapil Dev brought back home in 1983?
This is the question in the hearts and minds of every Indian. This is the question that dominates our thoughts and our conversations. Has our moment finally arrived?
Nothing brings this vast country together like the sport of cricket. We forget our differences, our petty squabbles over religion and politics. We are united now in a common belief, a shared dream. Oh how we have longed for this moment.
Our opponents in the final, the island nation of Sri Lanka, have been brutal in destroying their opponents. They hammered the hapless English out of the park. They brushed aside the ordinary New Zealanders with relative ease. Their confidence is high, their form is solid, their cricket is exceptional.
Contrastingly, India have taken the scenic route to the final. The batsmen held their nerve and squeaked through in a tense run chase against the powerhouse Aussies in the quarter-final. This was followed by disciplined bowling and fielding effort to earn an emotional victory over Pakistan in a much-anticipated, high pressure game.
Here the Indian team is at the final then, one game away from immortality, amidst a fanatic home crowd in the country’s commercial capital. Mumbai. The home town of Indian cricket’s greatest legend. Sachin Tendulkar is worshipped more ardently and by more people than most Gods. On the verge of a historic hundredth century, he will have one last chance to win the ultimate prize for his country.
While I was growing up, my father used to regale me with tales of the 1983 World Cup which India won. They were tales of triumph against odds, of glory, of public elation. These tales always left me in wonder, wishing that I had been there. I followed the fortunes of the Indian cricket team for all my adult life. For years, Indian teams showed so much talent but failed to deliver. For years, we waited for victory, for glory. But the tales of 1983 remained just stories handed down from an older generation.
We, the battle-hardened Indian cricket fans, have suffered through enough painful disappointments and nearly moments. Our hunger for this trophy has built up over the years to a deafening crescendo. We need our own stories now to recount for future generations. We need our own moments of mass euphoria, of collective ecstasy, of prolonged jubilation.
Come Saturday April 2nd, 2011, our moment of reckoning has arrived.
Comfortably Numb
Naveen leaned back against the car. He wasn’t able to stand straight. Loud music still rang in his ears. His roommate, Marvin, staggered behind him.
“We are fucking drunk.” Marvin was a fan of stating the obvious.
“How many drinks did I have?” Naveen wondered.
“I stopped counting after my fifth.” Marvin declared. “The first two rounds were tequila shots, then a vodka, then two whiskeys…and then…” He paused and appeared to be thinking. He laughed, “Who the hell knows what else I had.”
Marvin skipped forward. “Tonight’s gonna be a good, good night….oh yea...tonight’s gonna be a good, good night…”
Naveen cut him short, “Tonight is over man. But, tomorrow’s gonna be bad, bad hangover…oh yea…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
Both of them burst out laughing. Marvin rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
Naveen nodded. “Thanks. The feeling is mutual.”
Marvin pointed at the car they were leaning against, “Is this your car?”
Naveen turned and stared at the car, as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh yea, it is my car. The good ol’ Honda Civic. I love this car.”
Marvin pulled against the handle of the door, “Open it.”
Naveen searched his pockets, produced a key and unlocked it. Marvin opened the door, leaned down into the car and let out a gut-wrenching sound.
Naveen’s expression froze. “What the hell are you doing? You opened the door to throw up in it?”
Marvin remained bent over, holding his stomach and vomiting out. Naveen grabbed his roommate’s shoulder and pulled him up.
Marvin had a broad smirk. “Ha ha ha ha…I got you….”
Naveen exhaled, glanced into the car, and then cracked a smile. “Not bad….well done.”
Marvin smiled, “Alright, let’s get out of here now.”
Naveen nodded. He opened the driver’s door and paused. “Are we gonna drive back?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, like you mentioned earlier, we are fuckin’ drunk.”
“We definitely are. So what?”
Naveen shook his head. “Let’s take a cab. We’ll pick up this car tomorrow.”
Marvin grunted. “Don’t be such a wuss.”
Naveen raised his eyebrows, “A wuss?”
“Yea, a wuss. If you want, I’ll drive.”
“You?” Naveen laughed, “C’mon man, you’ll barely be able to make it into the car without falling a few times.”
Marvin frowned, “I fooled you with the fake vomiting, didn’t I? That shows how sharp my mind is right now.”
“I don’t know about your sharp mind and all, but yea, you did fool me, I’ll give you that.”
Marvin stumbled towards him. Before Naveen could react, Marvin grabbed the car keys from his hand and collapsed into the driver’s seat. Naveen stared at him for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and went around to the passenger’s seat.
“Alright, that’s more like it.” Marvin fired up the engine. “Let’s do this.”
Marvin backed the car out and picked up speed. “So, where we headed?”
“Umm…how about home? It’s 3 am man.”
“Home?” Marvin was offended, “Where are the others?”
“Everyone split after we left the club, man.”
Marvin frowned, “Fine, fine…home it is.”
He changed lanes and pulled onto the freeway ramp. Suddenly, he grinned and looked across. “We still have half of that whiskey bottle remaining, right?”
Naveen winced at the thought. “You really want to puke, don’t ya?”
Marvin sang aloud, “I got a feeling…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…oh yea….tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
Naveen joined in, “Oh yea…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
They cruised along, picking up speed as the freeway cleared up ahead. Marvin put on the radio and tuned to the classic rock station. The lyrics sounded from the speakers “Now, I’ve got that feeling once again. I can’t explain...this is not how I am…”
Marvin’s eyes lit up. He cleared his throat and started to hum. “I….have become…”
Naveen joined in, “….comfortably numb…”
Both sang aloud, out of tune and out of sync, “There is no pain you are receiving....”
Suddenly, Naveen noticed some flashing lights behind them. “Did you see that, man?”
“Shhh…” Marvin admonished. “A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon…”
Naveen shifted in his seat. He blinked and looked back again. A black-and-white police car appeared behind them.
Marvin continued on. “When I was a child, I had a fever…”
“I think the cops are following us man.” Naveen said.
“…Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying…”
Naveen nudged his buddy on the shoulder. “Seriously man, there is a cop car behind us.”
Marvin glared at him. “I’m sure it’s not for us. Here, I’ll show you.” He changed lanes, giving the police car room to pass.
“…now I’ve got that feeling once again…”
The black-and-white car changed lanes too and stayed on their tail. Without warning, the flashing lights blazed on. A siren rang out, piercing their ears. A voice bellowed over a microphone. “Please pull over to the side.”
Marvin shut the radio off, and pulled the car aside and turned off the engine. The two roommates exchanged a quick look.
“I told you.” Naveen murmured. He felt his heart beat faster.
Marvin sat in silence. He rubbed his eyes.
The police officer slowly walked over to their car, and demanded to see license and registration. Naveen fumbled through the glove box and produced them.
The officer shone a flashlight on Marvin. “Do you know how fast you were going?”
Marvin cleared his throat. “Must have been about sixty five?”
“You were doing seventy miles per hour. Do you know what the speed limit is here?”
Marvin stuttered, “Six-Sixty?”
“It’s a fifty mile per hour zone.”
Marvin swallowed. “I’m sorry officer.”
The office stared at them with unblinking eyes. The bright yellow light from his flashlight shone directly into their eyes.
“How many drinks have you had?” He asked Marvin.
Marvin paused to think. Naveen recollected his roommate’s impressive alcohol consumption chronicles from earlier. He cringed inwardly.
“I…umm…I’m not sure…” Marvin struggled for words. “Maybe just a couple of beers.”
The officer’s expression remained unchanged “A couple of beers, ha?”
“Please step out of the vehicle.”
Marvin looked up. “But officer…”
“Step out of the car.”
Reluctantly, Marvin obeyed. Naveen started to open his door.
“Not you.” The officer commanded. “You stay there.”
Naveen heard the office ask Marvin to take a breath alcohol test. He felt his stomach churn. He saw Marvin make an attempt to protest and then grudgingly blow into the contraption that the officer produced. The officer took it back to his car.
Naveen leaned out the window and looked at his roommate. Neither of them said anything. The officer returned towards them, along with his partner.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“Ha?” Marvin stood there, dazed.
“Please lie face down on the hood and put your hands behind your back.”
“But, officer...I didn’t do anything wrong.” Marvin protested.
“Like hell, you didn’t. You failed the breath test. Your blood alcohol level is above the allowed limit. You were driving under influence.”
Marvin’s face went ashen. The officer read him his rights. Marvin bent down on the car and put his hands behind. A pair of steel handcuffs snapped on his wrist. Naveen stared at them. He felt the blood rushing through his veins. He swung his door open and jumped out of the car.
“Please officer…” Naveen pleaded.
The officer’s partner looked startled by Naveen’s sudden movement. In a flash, he had his hand on his gun. “Get back in the car.”
“Please sir…” Naveen went on. “We are just kids…”
The partner’s eyes were locked on Naveen. “I’ll ask you again to get back in the car.”
Naveen saw the look in his eyes and hastily retreated to the car. He shrunk into his seat and watched Marvin being bundled into the police car. The officer’s partner got into the driver’s seat and pulled the car away. Naveen’s breathing became quicker and quicker.
The officer appeared at his window. “And how many drinks have you had?”
Naveen looked at him. “I don’t remember….not too many.”
“Uh-huh. Please step out of the car.”
Naveen obeyed. Without a word, the officer displayed the dreaded breath testing contraption that had already claimed Marvin as its victim. With a resigned look, Naveen blew into it. The officer took the device aside and then, came back to Naveen.
“You failed too.”
Naveen nodded, wondering how steel handcuffs felt like. Would they hurt?
The officer continued to gaze at him. “But you weren’t driving. We will, however, have to get your car towed. Another car will come around any minute and will give you a ride home.”
Naveen blinked. He exhaled slowly. So, no handcuffs after all.
“Where did you take my friend, officer?”
The officer glared at him.
“Please officer, tell me where you took my friend, so I can go bail him out later.”
The officer took out his walkie-talkie, said something into it. A voice said something in reply. Naveen couldn’t make out the words.
“Clyde hill station.” The officer said.
At that moment, another black-and-white car with lights flashing showed up and stopped next to them. The officer went over and spoke to the new arrival. He opened the back seat door and indicated to Naveen. “Get in.”
Naveen slid into the seat.
“Where do you live?”
“Bellevue, sir.”
The officer drove the car ahead. “Tell me which exit.”
Naveen felt his head nod. He blinked and tried to stay focused. He felt numb.
“Do your parents know that you’ll are driving around drunk like that?” The officer asked.
“Umm…our parents are in India, sir.”
The officer glanced at him sharply in the rear view mirror. “So, what are you’ll doing here? Students?”
“No sir, we work here.”
“Is this the exit?” The officer pointed ahead.
“Ye-yes. This is the one.” Naveen stammered.
The officer continued to study him in the mirror.
“Next left, after the signal, sir.” Naveen said. The officer swung into the lane.
“Umm…it’s the apartment complex up ahead and the last building to the right, sir.”
The car stopped abruptly. The officer glared back at him. “We’re close enough. You get off and walk from here.”
Naveen felt himself nod again. He opened the door and put one foot down. “What about my car, sir? How do I get it back?”
“Hold on.” The officer mumbled into his walkie-talkie and a voice responded. “King’s Towing Company. Look them up and call them.”
With that, the black-and-white car sped away from him. Naveen staggered towards his house. He paused and took a few deep breaths. He looked up at the black sky. Where was Marvin?
He brought out his cell phone and dialed his roommate’s number. No response. He left a voicemail. Then, he called another friend, Kaushal, and explained the situation to him. Kaushal listened and told Naveen to stay right there, that he would reach there and they could go get Marvin out of jail.
Naveen stood outside his house and waited. What a night it had been. The cold air penetrated his jacket, but Naveen felt nothing.
Kaushal arrived within minutes. “Not been able to get through to Marvin. We should leave a note for him on the door in case he comes back here.”
They scribbled a quick not and stuck it on the door. The image of Marvin being handcuffed was burned in Naveen’s mind.
“So, I looked up Clyde Hill station. Let’s go there.” Kaushal said.
They took off towards Clyde Hill. Suddenly, Naveen’s phone started ringing. The sound seemed unfamiliar. He stared at it. It was Marvin.
“Where are you, Marvin?” Naveen blurted. “We’re coming to get you.”
“Relax,” Marvin’s voice said over the phone. “I’m back at home. They filed the charges and released me without bail.”
Naveen registered this slowly. “So now what happens?”
“Now, my case will come up in court. I have to find a lawyer I guess.”
“Oh…” Naveen went silent. “But you’re okay, right?”
“Yea.”
“How do you feel?” Naveen asked.
“I….have become…comfortably numb….”
“We are fucking drunk.” Marvin was a fan of stating the obvious.
“How many drinks did I have?” Naveen wondered.
“I stopped counting after my fifth.” Marvin declared. “The first two rounds were tequila shots, then a vodka, then two whiskeys…and then…” He paused and appeared to be thinking. He laughed, “Who the hell knows what else I had.”
Marvin skipped forward. “Tonight’s gonna be a good, good night….oh yea...tonight’s gonna be a good, good night…”
Naveen cut him short, “Tonight is over man. But, tomorrow’s gonna be bad, bad hangover…oh yea…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
Both of them burst out laughing. Marvin rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
Naveen nodded. “Thanks. The feeling is mutual.”
Marvin pointed at the car they were leaning against, “Is this your car?”
Naveen turned and stared at the car, as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh yea, it is my car. The good ol’ Honda Civic. I love this car.”
Marvin pulled against the handle of the door, “Open it.”
Naveen searched his pockets, produced a key and unlocked it. Marvin opened the door, leaned down into the car and let out a gut-wrenching sound.
Naveen’s expression froze. “What the hell are you doing? You opened the door to throw up in it?”
Marvin remained bent over, holding his stomach and vomiting out. Naveen grabbed his roommate’s shoulder and pulled him up.
Marvin had a broad smirk. “Ha ha ha ha…I got you….”
Naveen exhaled, glanced into the car, and then cracked a smile. “Not bad….well done.”
Marvin smiled, “Alright, let’s get out of here now.”
Naveen nodded. He opened the driver’s door and paused. “Are we gonna drive back?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, like you mentioned earlier, we are fuckin’ drunk.”
“We definitely are. So what?”
Naveen shook his head. “Let’s take a cab. We’ll pick up this car tomorrow.”
Marvin grunted. “Don’t be such a wuss.”
Naveen raised his eyebrows, “A wuss?”
“Yea, a wuss. If you want, I’ll drive.”
“You?” Naveen laughed, “C’mon man, you’ll barely be able to make it into the car without falling a few times.”
Marvin frowned, “I fooled you with the fake vomiting, didn’t I? That shows how sharp my mind is right now.”
“I don’t know about your sharp mind and all, but yea, you did fool me, I’ll give you that.”
Marvin stumbled towards him. Before Naveen could react, Marvin grabbed the car keys from his hand and collapsed into the driver’s seat. Naveen stared at him for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and went around to the passenger’s seat.
“Alright, that’s more like it.” Marvin fired up the engine. “Let’s do this.”
Marvin backed the car out and picked up speed. “So, where we headed?”
“Umm…how about home? It’s 3 am man.”
“Home?” Marvin was offended, “Where are the others?”
“Everyone split after we left the club, man.”
Marvin frowned, “Fine, fine…home it is.”
He changed lanes and pulled onto the freeway ramp. Suddenly, he grinned and looked across. “We still have half of that whiskey bottle remaining, right?”
Naveen winced at the thought. “You really want to puke, don’t ya?”
Marvin sang aloud, “I got a feeling…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…oh yea….tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
Naveen joined in, “Oh yea…tomorrow’s gonna be a bad, bad hangover…”
They cruised along, picking up speed as the freeway cleared up ahead. Marvin put on the radio and tuned to the classic rock station. The lyrics sounded from the speakers “Now, I’ve got that feeling once again. I can’t explain...this is not how I am…”
Marvin’s eyes lit up. He cleared his throat and started to hum. “I….have become…”
Naveen joined in, “….comfortably numb…”
Both sang aloud, out of tune and out of sync, “There is no pain you are receiving....”
Suddenly, Naveen noticed some flashing lights behind them. “Did you see that, man?”
“Shhh…” Marvin admonished. “A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon…”
Naveen shifted in his seat. He blinked and looked back again. A black-and-white police car appeared behind them.
Marvin continued on. “When I was a child, I had a fever…”
“I think the cops are following us man.” Naveen said.
“…Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying…”
Naveen nudged his buddy on the shoulder. “Seriously man, there is a cop car behind us.”
Marvin glared at him. “I’m sure it’s not for us. Here, I’ll show you.” He changed lanes, giving the police car room to pass.
“…now I’ve got that feeling once again…”
The black-and-white car changed lanes too and stayed on their tail. Without warning, the flashing lights blazed on. A siren rang out, piercing their ears. A voice bellowed over a microphone. “Please pull over to the side.”
Marvin shut the radio off, and pulled the car aside and turned off the engine. The two roommates exchanged a quick look.
“I told you.” Naveen murmured. He felt his heart beat faster.
Marvin sat in silence. He rubbed his eyes.
The police officer slowly walked over to their car, and demanded to see license and registration. Naveen fumbled through the glove box and produced them.
The officer shone a flashlight on Marvin. “Do you know how fast you were going?”
Marvin cleared his throat. “Must have been about sixty five?”
“You were doing seventy miles per hour. Do you know what the speed limit is here?”
Marvin stuttered, “Six-Sixty?”
“It’s a fifty mile per hour zone.”
Marvin swallowed. “I’m sorry officer.”
The office stared at them with unblinking eyes. The bright yellow light from his flashlight shone directly into their eyes.
“How many drinks have you had?” He asked Marvin.
Marvin paused to think. Naveen recollected his roommate’s impressive alcohol consumption chronicles from earlier. He cringed inwardly.
“I…umm…I’m not sure…” Marvin struggled for words. “Maybe just a couple of beers.”
The officer’s expression remained unchanged “A couple of beers, ha?”
“Please step out of the vehicle.”
Marvin looked up. “But officer…”
“Step out of the car.”
Reluctantly, Marvin obeyed. Naveen started to open his door.
“Not you.” The officer commanded. “You stay there.”
Naveen heard the office ask Marvin to take a breath alcohol test. He felt his stomach churn. He saw Marvin make an attempt to protest and then grudgingly blow into the contraption that the officer produced. The officer took it back to his car.
Naveen leaned out the window and looked at his roommate. Neither of them said anything. The officer returned towards them, along with his partner.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“Ha?” Marvin stood there, dazed.
“Please lie face down on the hood and put your hands behind your back.”
“But, officer...I didn’t do anything wrong.” Marvin protested.
“Like hell, you didn’t. You failed the breath test. Your blood alcohol level is above the allowed limit. You were driving under influence.”
Marvin’s face went ashen. The officer read him his rights. Marvin bent down on the car and put his hands behind. A pair of steel handcuffs snapped on his wrist. Naveen stared at them. He felt the blood rushing through his veins. He swung his door open and jumped out of the car.
“Please officer…” Naveen pleaded.
The officer’s partner looked startled by Naveen’s sudden movement. In a flash, he had his hand on his gun. “Get back in the car.”
“Please sir…” Naveen went on. “We are just kids…”
The partner’s eyes were locked on Naveen. “I’ll ask you again to get back in the car.”
Naveen saw the look in his eyes and hastily retreated to the car. He shrunk into his seat and watched Marvin being bundled into the police car. The officer’s partner got into the driver’s seat and pulled the car away. Naveen’s breathing became quicker and quicker.
The officer appeared at his window. “And how many drinks have you had?”
Naveen looked at him. “I don’t remember….not too many.”
“Uh-huh. Please step out of the car.”
Naveen obeyed. Without a word, the officer displayed the dreaded breath testing contraption that had already claimed Marvin as its victim. With a resigned look, Naveen blew into it. The officer took the device aside and then, came back to Naveen.
“You failed too.”
Naveen nodded, wondering how steel handcuffs felt like. Would they hurt?
The officer continued to gaze at him. “But you weren’t driving. We will, however, have to get your car towed. Another car will come around any minute and will give you a ride home.”
Naveen blinked. He exhaled slowly. So, no handcuffs after all.
“Where did you take my friend, officer?”
The officer glared at him.
“Please officer, tell me where you took my friend, so I can go bail him out later.”
The officer took out his walkie-talkie, said something into it. A voice said something in reply. Naveen couldn’t make out the words.
“Clyde hill station.” The officer said.
At that moment, another black-and-white car with lights flashing showed up and stopped next to them. The officer went over and spoke to the new arrival. He opened the back seat door and indicated to Naveen. “Get in.”
Naveen slid into the seat.
“Where do you live?”
“Bellevue, sir.”
The officer drove the car ahead. “Tell me which exit.”
Naveen felt his head nod. He blinked and tried to stay focused. He felt numb.
“Do your parents know that you’ll are driving around drunk like that?” The officer asked.
“Umm…our parents are in India, sir.”
The officer glanced at him sharply in the rear view mirror. “So, what are you’ll doing here? Students?”
“No sir, we work here.”
“Is this the exit?” The officer pointed ahead.
“Ye-yes. This is the one.” Naveen stammered.
The officer continued to study him in the mirror.
“Next left, after the signal, sir.” Naveen said. The officer swung into the lane.
“Umm…it’s the apartment complex up ahead and the last building to the right, sir.”
The car stopped abruptly. The officer glared back at him. “We’re close enough. You get off and walk from here.”
Naveen felt himself nod again. He opened the door and put one foot down. “What about my car, sir? How do I get it back?”
“Hold on.” The officer mumbled into his walkie-talkie and a voice responded. “King’s Towing Company. Look them up and call them.”
With that, the black-and-white car sped away from him. Naveen staggered towards his house. He paused and took a few deep breaths. He looked up at the black sky. Where was Marvin?
He brought out his cell phone and dialed his roommate’s number. No response. He left a voicemail. Then, he called another friend, Kaushal, and explained the situation to him. Kaushal listened and told Naveen to stay right there, that he would reach there and they could go get Marvin out of jail.
Naveen stood outside his house and waited. What a night it had been. The cold air penetrated his jacket, but Naveen felt nothing.
Kaushal arrived within minutes. “Not been able to get through to Marvin. We should leave a note for him on the door in case he comes back here.”
They scribbled a quick not and stuck it on the door. The image of Marvin being handcuffed was burned in Naveen’s mind.
“So, I looked up Clyde Hill station. Let’s go there.” Kaushal said.
They took off towards Clyde Hill. Suddenly, Naveen’s phone started ringing. The sound seemed unfamiliar. He stared at it. It was Marvin.
“Where are you, Marvin?” Naveen blurted. “We’re coming to get you.”
“Relax,” Marvin’s voice said over the phone. “I’m back at home. They filed the charges and released me without bail.”
Naveen registered this slowly. “So now what happens?”
“Now, my case will come up in court. I have to find a lawyer I guess.”
“Oh…” Naveen went silent. “But you’re okay, right?”
“Yea.”
“How do you feel?” Naveen asked.
“I….have become…comfortably numb….”
The Empty Boat
The yellow sun illuminated the clear, blue sky. Gentle waves splashed against the shore. The church bells clanged. The birds chirped. A typical summer day in the floating city. Venice. A paradise to many, an abode of relaxation, a magnet to travelers.
Maurizio rowed his gondola upstream. He was headed home for lunch. His thoughts were occupied by the saffron aroma of his wife’s homemade risotto. He could almost taste it.
Suddenly, he felt himself being thrown back. A garish purple gondola had appeared from nowhere and collided against his boat.
Maurizio looked up at the mustached boatman. He waved his fist, “Watch where you’re going, idiot. Are you drunk?”
The boatman in the other gondola just shrugged his shoulders, by way of apology. Maurizio shook his head. He clearly had the right of way. Where did these morons come from.
Maurizio continued to curse under his breath as the two gondolas separated and continued along their way. He rowed ahead and gradually his thoughts returned to his upcoming meal.
Half an hour passed without further incident. Maurizio navigated past the central market district. He slowed down and steered towards the land. He was almost home.
Once again, he found himself jerked back. He lost balance and fell on his back. He looked up and saw that another gondola had collided with him. He face turned flush red. He could feel the anger rise up inside him. He gritted his teeth.
He stood up. “What the hell do you people think? You can do anything you want? Maurizio will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Maurizio will beat you so bad that…”
He stopped short. He found himself yelling at thin air. There was no boatman. The brown gondola that lay before him was empty. It had simply come loose from its mooring and floated with the waves.
Maurizio felt his anger subside. He laughed at himself. He pushed the empty boat aside and continued on his way. As he pulled towards the land and parked his boat, a realization struck him. Both the collisions were identical. But the first seemed to justify yelling and the other seemed to justify laughing. He smiled to himself.
From that day, he treated any offending boatman as if he were an empty boat.
Maurizio rowed his gondola upstream. He was headed home for lunch. His thoughts were occupied by the saffron aroma of his wife’s homemade risotto. He could almost taste it.
Suddenly, he felt himself being thrown back. A garish purple gondola had appeared from nowhere and collided against his boat.
Maurizio looked up at the mustached boatman. He waved his fist, “Watch where you’re going, idiot. Are you drunk?”
The boatman in the other gondola just shrugged his shoulders, by way of apology. Maurizio shook his head. He clearly had the right of way. Where did these morons come from.
Maurizio continued to curse under his breath as the two gondolas separated and continued along their way. He rowed ahead and gradually his thoughts returned to his upcoming meal.
Half an hour passed without further incident. Maurizio navigated past the central market district. He slowed down and steered towards the land. He was almost home.
Once again, he found himself jerked back. He lost balance and fell on his back. He looked up and saw that another gondola had collided with him. He face turned flush red. He could feel the anger rise up inside him. He gritted his teeth.
He stood up. “What the hell do you people think? You can do anything you want? Maurizio will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Maurizio will beat you so bad that…”
He stopped short. He found himself yelling at thin air. There was no boatman. The brown gondola that lay before him was empty. It had simply come loose from its mooring and floated with the waves.
Maurizio felt his anger subside. He laughed at himself. He pushed the empty boat aside and continued on his way. As he pulled towards the land and parked his boat, a realization struck him. Both the collisions were identical. But the first seemed to justify yelling and the other seemed to justify laughing. He smiled to himself.
From that day, he treated any offending boatman as if he were an empty boat.
The Beggar
Rohit discovered a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. He stared at it for a moment. Shrugging his shoulders, he took a puff and exhaled the smoke slowly. He surveyed the scene around him. Sophia College Lane was deserted, as one would expect at midnight. The dim street lights only somewhat illuminated the sloping lane. The red tobacco stains on the white wall stood out amongst the assortment of foot marks, food particles, dirt and other decorative attempts.
“It’s the time to disco…La La La La…” A hoarse voice sang out behind him. Rohit turned to see a group of college kids sauntering down the lane. Two girls, dressed in loose tops and tight jeans, walked close to each other, giggling. Staggering ahead of them was the guy singing, dressed in a striped shirt with the top three buttons opened.
Open Buttons continued his sorry attempt to sing. “It’s the time to disco….oh oh oh…yea…oh oh oh…” It sounded more like an asthma patient coughing.
Rohit shook his head and took another puff. The group took no notice of him as they continued down, with Open Buttons blaring on, and the girls exchanging hushed comments.
Their voices faded away into the night. As silence descended around him, Rohit remembered his own college days. Those were such fun times. No job or money to worry about. No sense of responsibility. He took another puff and walked down to the large banyan tree. He stood under it, recalling the times he had come there with friends during college.
“Can you give me a cigarette, brother?” A voice called out, interrupting his thoughts.
Rohit swirled around. A short man appeared from nowhere, dressed in torn rags. His hands were gnarled, his fingers out-of-shape. His face was covered with a thick beard. His pants were rolled up to display swollen knees, expanding outwards like inflated balloons. The skin around the knees took a dark purple color and was mutilated in several places.
Rohit grimaced, and took a step back.
“Please brother, just one cigarette.” The beggar pleaded, extending his right palm.
Rohit stared at those knees, which were swollen the size of beach volleyballs. His stomach churned and his legs felt wobbly. He had to look away. He looked up at the man’s imploring eyes. He brought out a packet of cigarettes, and handed one to the beggar, who eagerly put it in his mouth.
Rohit produced a lighter and lit the cigarette. The beggar took a long puff and started to cough loudly. The twisted hands pressed against his chest as he continued to cough. The coughing barely subsided, and he took another puff. And then coughed some more.
Rohit looked at shrunken figure before him. He became acutely aware how lucky he was. Sure, he had lost his job and his girlfriend had dumped him for some larger hunk. But who was he to complain. Life had been kind to him.
The beggar looked into his eyes. “You’re a kind man, brother. Can you spare me some money? I haven’t had a bite to eat for days.”
Looking at the man, Rohit didn’t doubt it for a moment. He took out his wallet to check how much cash he had.
Without warning, a rough hand grabbed Rohit’s neck. The wallet disappeared from his hand. Rohit could barely register what had happened. He found himself being shoved back against the banyan tree. His cigarette fell to the ground.
The beggar’s eyes glared at him, no longer pitiful, rather red with rage. The black beard drew inches from Rohit’s face. A smell of vomit filled his nostrils.
“Feeling sorry for me, were you?” The beggar’s voice turned into a hiss. “Now, I have your money. Remove your watch and give it to me.”
Rohit’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked and looked at the beggar. The contorted hands produced a long kitchen knife, the kind used to chop onions. The tip of the blade pressed against Rohit’s neck. The beggar’s eyes were the color of blood. If he pushed the blade a little deeper, real blood would spurt out.
Rohit felt his pulse rate quicken. His breathing became shallow. He snapped off his watch and handed it over. The red eyes examined the metal strap and silver dial. A smirk appeared on the man’s face, revealing yellow-stained teeth.
“Good boy. Now, what else you got?”
Rohit leaned back against the tree. The knife blade hovered around his adam’s apple. He swallowed a breath of air. His eyes locked onto the knife.
The beggar slapped Rohit’s chest “Give me your belt….and…your glasses...quickly.”
Rohit obeyed, without a word. He had gone from sympathetic bystander to hapless victim. And it had happened in a flash.
The beggar glowered at Rohit, “Stupid, little rich brat.” He shoved his loot into his shirt, and starting laughing. He laughed so hard that it turned into a cough. His back stooped low, as he spat on the ground. Those inflated knees seemed incapable of bending.
The red eyes caught Rohit observing him. “What you looking at, ha?”
Rohit felt the metallic blade against the skin of his neck again. He bit his tongue.
The beggar continued to stare, without blinking. “Your phone…give it…”
Rohit slid out his mobile phone from his jeans pockets. He extended it towards the gnarled hands. All of a sudden, the phone started ringing.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me…Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak was like me…”
Rohit stared at the phone. He blinked. That wasn’t his ringtone at all. The music grew louder and louder, ringing in his ears. He couldn’t see the beggar. He blinked his eyes again. The music was deafening.
Rohit sat up and rubbed his eyes. His palms were full of sweat. He looked around him. His bed, his desk, his cupboards came into view.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend…” Music emanated from his speakers. The digital display on the radio showed the time as 09:02 am.
“Rohit,” His mother’s voice yelled from somewhere. “Wake up and turn that alarm off.”
*****
“It’s the time to disco…La La La La…” A hoarse voice sang out behind him. Rohit turned to see a group of college kids sauntering down the lane. Two girls, dressed in loose tops and tight jeans, walked close to each other, giggling. Staggering ahead of them was the guy singing, dressed in a striped shirt with the top three buttons opened.
Open Buttons continued his sorry attempt to sing. “It’s the time to disco….oh oh oh…yea…oh oh oh…” It sounded more like an asthma patient coughing.
Rohit shook his head and took another puff. The group took no notice of him as they continued down, with Open Buttons blaring on, and the girls exchanging hushed comments.
Their voices faded away into the night. As silence descended around him, Rohit remembered his own college days. Those were such fun times. No job or money to worry about. No sense of responsibility. He took another puff and walked down to the large banyan tree. He stood under it, recalling the times he had come there with friends during college.
“Can you give me a cigarette, brother?” A voice called out, interrupting his thoughts.
Rohit swirled around. A short man appeared from nowhere, dressed in torn rags. His hands were gnarled, his fingers out-of-shape. His face was covered with a thick beard. His pants were rolled up to display swollen knees, expanding outwards like inflated balloons. The skin around the knees took a dark purple color and was mutilated in several places.
Rohit grimaced, and took a step back.
“Please brother, just one cigarette.” The beggar pleaded, extending his right palm.
Rohit stared at those knees, which were swollen the size of beach volleyballs. His stomach churned and his legs felt wobbly. He had to look away. He looked up at the man’s imploring eyes. He brought out a packet of cigarettes, and handed one to the beggar, who eagerly put it in his mouth.
Rohit produced a lighter and lit the cigarette. The beggar took a long puff and started to cough loudly. The twisted hands pressed against his chest as he continued to cough. The coughing barely subsided, and he took another puff. And then coughed some more.
Rohit looked at shrunken figure before him. He became acutely aware how lucky he was. Sure, he had lost his job and his girlfriend had dumped him for some larger hunk. But who was he to complain. Life had been kind to him.
The beggar looked into his eyes. “You’re a kind man, brother. Can you spare me some money? I haven’t had a bite to eat for days.”
Looking at the man, Rohit didn’t doubt it for a moment. He took out his wallet to check how much cash he had.
Without warning, a rough hand grabbed Rohit’s neck. The wallet disappeared from his hand. Rohit could barely register what had happened. He found himself being shoved back against the banyan tree. His cigarette fell to the ground.
The beggar’s eyes glared at him, no longer pitiful, rather red with rage. The black beard drew inches from Rohit’s face. A smell of vomit filled his nostrils.
“Feeling sorry for me, were you?” The beggar’s voice turned into a hiss. “Now, I have your money. Remove your watch and give it to me.”
Rohit’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked and looked at the beggar. The contorted hands produced a long kitchen knife, the kind used to chop onions. The tip of the blade pressed against Rohit’s neck. The beggar’s eyes were the color of blood. If he pushed the blade a little deeper, real blood would spurt out.
Rohit felt his pulse rate quicken. His breathing became shallow. He snapped off his watch and handed it over. The red eyes examined the metal strap and silver dial. A smirk appeared on the man’s face, revealing yellow-stained teeth.
“Good boy. Now, what else you got?”
Rohit leaned back against the tree. The knife blade hovered around his adam’s apple. He swallowed a breath of air. His eyes locked onto the knife.
The beggar slapped Rohit’s chest “Give me your belt….and…your glasses...quickly.”
Rohit obeyed, without a word. He had gone from sympathetic bystander to hapless victim. And it had happened in a flash.
The beggar glowered at Rohit, “Stupid, little rich brat.” He shoved his loot into his shirt, and starting laughing. He laughed so hard that it turned into a cough. His back stooped low, as he spat on the ground. Those inflated knees seemed incapable of bending.
The red eyes caught Rohit observing him. “What you looking at, ha?”
Rohit felt the metallic blade against the skin of his neck again. He bit his tongue.
The beggar continued to stare, without blinking. “Your phone…give it…”
Rohit slid out his mobile phone from his jeans pockets. He extended it towards the gnarled hands. All of a sudden, the phone started ringing.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me…Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was a freak was like me…”
Rohit stared at the phone. He blinked. That wasn’t his ringtone at all. The music grew louder and louder, ringing in his ears. He couldn’t see the beggar. He blinked his eyes again. The music was deafening.
Rohit sat up and rubbed his eyes. His palms were full of sweat. He looked around him. His bed, his desk, his cupboards came into view.
“Don’t cha wish your girlfriend…” Music emanated from his speakers. The digital display on the radio showed the time as 09:02 am.
“Rohit,” His mother’s voice yelled from somewhere. “Wake up and turn that alarm off.”
*****
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