Story of a well

Once upon a time in Kabul, there lived two kids. Arif and Ehsan. Arif was on the heavier side while Ehsan was slender. Once bored of their monotonous summer holidays, they decided to play football in an empty field in the neighbourhood. There was an old well in the field, which fed the locality's water tank. One of Ehsan's sky-high shot accidentally entered into the well. For a moment, they both became perplexed. But, they both knew that it was not a deep well and they knew how to swim. Without wasting a moment, both of them jumped in.

The cold water kissed their heat-tormented bodies and they relished in the newly discovered swimming pool. They kicked the ball, played water polo with it, and finally, after an hour of refreshing break from the scorching summer heat, they decided to climb up using the iron-holders fixed alongside the old well's wall. Eshan, good with high-shots, kicked the football out in one go and started climbing up. Arif followed.

When Arif stepped on the third iron-holder, he couldn't get a good hold for his big foot. He twitched it and gave the holder a little jerk, only to find it coming off and experiencing a free fall into the well. The shriek, 'Ehsaaa....aan', was soon muted by the cold water gushing in Arif's open mouth. Ehsan upon hearing the shriek became worried and quickly looked below. He saw Arif lying in the bed of water with his body submerged, while his hands and mouth struggling for breath. 

'I'm coming Arif, just be there.' Ehsan shouted and started climbing up faster than before. 

'I'm waiting.' Arif said panting, hoping Ehsan to bring someone to help him come out of the well. Soon Ehsan disappeared outside the well and that left Arif all alone, with only his heavy breaths as his companion.

The lull, the dim light, the cold, the disappearance of Ehsan and his loud heartbeats began to scare him. He once again shouted, 'Ehsan, are you there?' to which there was no response. He battled his fear by pacifying himself that Ehsan might have gone to call his father or elder brother to help him out. 

Suddenly, a splash occurred just a few centimeters away from him. Ehsan was back! And a moment later, the football came flying in and hit Arif on his head.

Puzzled, before Arif could ask what was happening, Ehsan replied, 'Sorry, the ball went really far, that's why I took so much time to bring it back. Let's restart the game.'

The Locket

I have this eerie feeling that someone has been living within my mind. Someone who has been watching me. I'm scared of it sometimes. Sometimes, it's the only support. I don't know who it is. It has been living inside me for a very long time.

It's like a silent invisible ghost whose shadows become visible in darkness, in stark silence, at times, when I want them to be farthest. It's difficult to trace it, it's difficult to define it. It's not like the children's story where the ghost turns out to be a friend. It seems to me - an eternal enemy; its dark evil laughter sometimes wakes me up from my sleep to look around, in search of my mother to save me from it. It has a smile, a very evil smile, the smile which shines from the darkness, cruel and barbaric, looking as though it will slice my soul with its razor sharp edge. But it doesn't do anything. The smile smiles at me from a distance, its mind playing with mine when I'm fast asleep. Sometimes, it seems to be a memory from the past life but sometimes it seems to be coming from the future. It's morbid. It's macabre. Though with time, it has become subtle and less effective, but I still tremble in fear, when I remember what I'd once faced. As I blink, the smile still flashes. Fainter though. But enough to make me fear going to the loo, even today.

When I was a child, the fear of encountering it in darkness used to prevent me from going to the loo and most of the times, it used to be my only companion on my wet bed that used to scare me to lull. I never made any noise while it enjoyed its dark play. Only once did I dare to fight it. I started sweating in my sleep. It was torturing me with its appalling laughter. In the sleep, I started calling my mother. She came running, thinking that I'd been attacked by a cat or something. I was profusely perspiring. She got worried, woke me up when I tightly held her waist. She recited Hanuman Chalisa to comfort me when I asked her to sleep beside me, to prevent it from assaulting me. She assured me that she would. I held my golden Hanuman locket, which I had around my neck since god knows when, tied with the sacred red thread that panditjis always used to carry. I thought it would stop it. It indeed did its magic. My nani told me that Hanuman had been the strongest of all Gods. No wonder I thought, as I stretched my imagination to merge with darkness. The darkness was haunted. He was still there, with his haunted smile, his small dot like eyes staring at me like a white dwarf far away in the sky. I was scared. In my sleep, I was conscious enough to wrap my right hand tightly around my mother, while my left hand clung to the golden locket. His smile soon faded in the unassailable darkness.

The morning came. Light came. The night was over. I found my power in my locket. I was happy, as though Lord Hanuman had taken away every bit of darkness haunting me. But still, the thought that even Hanuman's eyes couldn't see in the darkness scared me. I wished why couldn't he be an owl instead of a monkey. But no matter how powerful my wish had been, history never had a reason to hear an intimidated kid. I forgot about the previous night, I forgot that the sun sets every day. I played - played ghar-ghar with my neighbouring kid-friend, my childhood crush whose name I no more remember now, who used to call me Harshu and I used to love it. The evening faded, sun kissed the horizon. It was time. Time to go back home, watch my favorite TV-shows Centurion and Swat Cats on Cartoon Network, disinterestedly finish my homework, enthusiastically play with my globe and atlas and then count my collected money - to ensure that no theft had taken place - and go to sleep. I asked my mother to be near me, to call Hanumanji, if need be. He didn't come that night. I was relieved. My mother strongest!

It forgot to inhabit my darkness for over a month. Times change. My childhood crush stopped talking to me since she saw me accidentally looking at her through the window when she was changing. Okay, it was not accidental but I was a child then. Curiosity is what defines a child. No more ghar-ghar in my life, since I'd shifted to following the man with an MRF bat. Swat Cats still remained the second best pass time and now, since all her windows remained closed, when she was in her room, I had nothing else to fix my mind to. I resorted to studying. I didn't study course-books. I studied Children Knowledge Banks Vol 1-Vol 6, which my brother gifted to me on my birthday; I read Robinson Crusoe and another book known as Tees-Maar-Khan which was the Hindi translation of Oliver Twist and I started drawing birds, in a drawing book. I was happy and I, despite having a bizarre feeling, decided to sleep all alone once again.

The same pillow, the same bed, the same darkness, the same smile. The same torture. Only this time, I had a resolve. I won't be scared. It smiled. I smiled. It looked cruelly at me. I pressed my eyelids tighter to stop seeing it. No effect. It was still there, as visible as before. I had an idea. I spat on it. A moment later, the spit fell on my face. I thought he spat back. I was fighting with it, with all my vigour. He seemed effortless, the dark vicious smile didn't fade at all. I had another idea. It was afraid of light, I would kill it with light. I opened my eyes. It was gone. The darkness outside my eyes wasn't at all dark as compared to what I'd just seen inside my eyes. The pillow was wet, my breathing faster. I went in search of my locket. It was there, intact.

I was nervous. I started mumbling Hanuman Chalisa, broken but still the heard verses in place. Sankat se Hanuman Churave, Mahavir jab naam tu laave. I started trembling. Appalled by the dread of experiencing death, I touched my locket. It sent an electric current down my spine. I was absolutely clueless about where I was going to be the very next moment. Loud villainous laughters struck my ears and I thought the earth was going to end for me. In a moment, the sacred red thread tightened itself around my neck and in what I think lasted for a minute, I was almost asphyxiated to death, when holding the locket, thread by thread I managed to disentangle it and break it apart. Oxygen. It was bliss.

I could have died to take one more breath in. My voice wasn't in a condition to call out my mother. I somehow managed to stand up. Fear, no more. I went on to the loo, peed in darkness, watering all around the target and washed my legs, as I had been taught to be hygienic and came back. The locket was lying on the floor, it was upside down. It resided on the other side of Hanuman. It smiled at me. The cast of Hanuman resembled the dreadful darkness upside down. The same dark vicious smile. Entrapped with fear, I stepped back, trembling. Somebody caught hold of my shoulders. My blood ran cold, I couldn't dare to turn back. The hand moved away from my shoulder and patted on my head, and rebuked, 'Why don't you flush after using the toilet?'

Father. He went back to his room. While I, with the suddenly found inspiration, moved over to the locket and picked it up, despite the dark smile. Spat on it. This time it didn't hit me back. I abided by my father's order. The water was just enough to drown the golden darkness.

Next day, when my mother was not able to find the locket, she got frenzied. I decided not to be the victim of her frenzy and blamed it on the game where MRF bat defined who batted first as the reason why Lord Hanuman decided to get 'flushed' away. She wasn't convinced but she couldn't help it. She brought me another Hanuman after a few days which I boycotted, saying I'll rather have one of Lord Kartikeya - my favorite God, if she could find. Being just 9, I was smart enough to know that Lord Kartikeya was not a big-shot in the Indian God Industry and my mother would never find him. The trick worked; I inwardly thanked Ganeshji for taking all attention away from Kartikeyaji and went back to smash the cosco ball over the roof with my self-decorated bat with stickers of Sachin, Ganguly and Dravid stuck on the opposite side.

I never needed a Hanuman Chalisa after that. And Lord Hanuman got a kilogram of laddoo from me in return, for the disgraceful act that I had to commit. I always argued with him, that it was my father who provoked me to do it, not me. He seemed to be at peace with me now, since my crush, who used to call me Harshu, made a card for me in the coming month and gifted it to me.

When I opened it, to my utter disappointment, it said, 'Happy Rakhi, Harshu.' I forgot to make peace with the dark devil, I guess.

The Pig Story

Once upon a time, there lived a pig called Slimy, of traditional upbringing. He was simple, naive and pure. Yes, pure, but inwardly. His thoughts were immaculately shaped by the pig community around, with frequent inputs from goat aunties and dog uncles, from nearby localities.

So, as we can hope, Slimy's idea of the world was more or less structured by what his society had told him, what his middle-class pig-parents perceived it to be and how his friends who opposed the norms were looked down upon by the people around. Being an adolescent, he developed some carnal cravings, but he was too shy to disclose it to anyone. It would have been an act of insolence for the wise society, he thought. He blamed it on his age, and tried to forget about it but all in vain.

As soon as Slimy turned 12, Daddy-pig thought of sending him to the 'The Pigland School of Dinginess' for higher education, which was in Swineton - the ultra-urban capital of the mighty state of Pigland. After clearing a series of rigorous examinations on various insipid subjects like 'Urban ways to eat waste', 'Rural Garbage Management' and 'The Shit Psychology', Slimy was found quite eligible for admission in the reputed B.Crap course in the institute and hence forth his journey for knowledge began.

It was an emotional moment when Slimy left the neighbourhood that comprised of his childhood friends viz. Lily - the goat, Champ - the chimp, Robin - the bitch, Jack - the Jackal and Hazel - the hen.

Slimy came after having a long hot water bath in the nearby bog, that was constituted of human sewage, and carried his heavy suitcase of left-over plastics, aromatic garbage and discarded polythene bags across his house. After a touching adieu to his friends around, Slimy wiped his tears, while sitting in his Daddy's vintage convertible, with seat-belts on and paid heed to what his wise Daddy had to say.

'You have made me proud. You know, you happen to be the first person in our family to make it to the prestigious Pigland School of Dinginess. You've glorified your forefathers' name. How happy your Grandpa Filthmaster would have been, if he had been alive to this day.' The Daddy-pig bragged gleefully.

Slimy just nodded in unison, trying to hide his smile beneath his long piggy snouts, which shone pink with pride.

'Just make sure that you live up to our expectations. Since you're going to a city, hear out my advices carefully. Just be aware about the pigs from city there, they are very canny and they woo simple and talented guys like you and introduce you to fresh water, aromatic scents and simple vegetarian food. Also, beware of the she-pigs of Silly University, who are infamous as male-trappers and they try their best to find young pigs like you from the School of Dinginess, who are assured of a high paying job after graduation. I could never stand you with a wife from a different community than ours, I hope I am making myself very clear. I've a big name in the society and I expect you to glorify it.' The Daddy-pig continued, with great articulation in his speech.

'Sure Dadda, I will stand up to your expectations. I promise.' Slimy said, with a surreal grit in his voice, that came from his fat and hairy throat.

The proud Daddy got his admission into the elite college and came back to his small town. He called all the prominent people of the city and basked in the praise of his son's God-gifted talents in being so intelligent, clean-hearted and dingy since birth. He also praised the reputed Professors with degrees from the famous Ivy Pig Universities, and the greatly beneficial courses at Pigland, which his son had already mastered under his able guidance, if we're allowed to trust him with his words. While Slimy, on the other hand, was having a real difficult time in the completely new atmosphere of the city.

Little did our Slimy know that there was a beautiful surprise waiting to mesmerize his stay at the premier institute and would make him traverse a path less travelled. It was not a she-pig, rather it was something more exciting. Yes, the surprise was beautiful - and they called it the lush green-n-clean campus. For Slimy, this surprise was not a pleasant one. There was no bog, no stinky ponds and surprisingly no open human sewage channels to clean his chubby body with. It brought great disdain to our dear Slimy who in his childhood dreamt of becoming the next Dingy Minister of Pigland, some day.

Slimy for almost a week was baffled as to how do pigs bathe in the city, with no swamps, no open drainages and no sewage channels. He promised his father on the Piggy-phone that he would not bathe in clean water, as it was unholy for his religion and therefore, he stopped bathing. He also reconfirmed the Daddy Pig that he was taking strict precautions to avoid any she-pig that comes in his way. He proudly related to his father how he once accidentally boarded an elevator full of she-pigs and how he didn't even respond to their kind and flirtatious 'hellos', despite the fact that one of the 'hellos' came from a frail old lady-pig, who even had trouble speaking. The Daddy Pig was happy, very glad that his son heeded to the advice he gave.

The next week, he was allotted a hostel room and simultaneously classes began. Slimy, as his habit was, always used to be the first one to get up in his hostel and went out for a jog. This habit of running in the morning was inherited from his father, who inherited it from his father i.e. Grandpa Filthmaster. If we were to believe Daddy Pig's words, once upon a time, whole community of Pigs were in danger because of a slaughterer who came in the locality, and he was supposed to kill each young swines within a day. And it was Grandpa Filthmaster, who carried thirty five of the small ones one by one, holding them in his mouth, at lightning speed thirty five times to a different town, and saved whole of the generation that was to come. And so 'running' ran in the family blood of Slimy.

Settled, Slimy realized that the new place was something that he had been missing throughout his life. It had everything he would ever want: 24 hours dirt-net, a safe and secure campus, the ultra-modern capital Swineton with swooshing metros, hi-tech buses and lots of restaurants, 'dingeons' and stink-bars. He even enrolled himself into the gym nearby and started working on his biceps, not to impress the fatter sex but rather to live in the glory of his mighty grandpa.

One day, while he was waiting for a bus, a fragrance captivated him. It was the same smell of filth, dirt and utter rotten vegetables that he was missing in his life at Swineton. He looked around, with his protruding snouts and went behind the smell trying to trace its origin. It was a she. He had never come across a she-pig face-to-face, eyes-to-eyes. Those eyes, surrounded by fleshy eyelids and black and silky eyelashes; those soft pink snouts looking as though they were created to kiss him; those ears, horny, petite and submerged, telling him that silence would speak louder than words; those legs, soft and tender, holding her 'bigness' on those small flat soles; and that tail, which swayed flirtatiously, which would swirl the masculinity of every single pig in the locality.

He stumbled at the sight. It was sheer love-at-first-sight. He wanted to speak. She waited to hear. He mustered up courage to finally mumble.

'Hello, I'm Slimy.'
'Hey, I'm Shabby.' She said, in a seductive tone. Her tail waived at him. He was uncomfortably seduced. Delighted, excited but short of words. She realized his inhibition and began the conversation herself.

'Where are you from, Slimy?'
'Oh, I'm from ... Kachra-town, that little place in Dungland. My father is the Mayor there.' Slimy stammered, shyly.

'Oh my Dog, I can't believe that. Are you really from Kachra-town? Oh my Dog! The prophesy has come true.' Shabby said in an exhilarated tone. She started jumping in joy, her tail danced like an eel. She stank, big-time. He loved the smell.

'What prophesy?' Slimy asked, perplexed.

'When I was a child, an enlightened baba from Pigalayas visited our house. He declared that one day, I would meet a pig with name starting with 'S' from Kachra-town and eventually I would marry him. You're the love of my life.'

Shabby jumped forward to hug Slimy. He stepped back. His Dadda's words, 'I could never stand you with a wife from a different community than ours,' resonated in his ears. He felt guilty.

'I think you're mistaken. I might not be the ONE.'

'You're the one. Didn't you get attracted to my smell?'

'Yes, I did. What about that?'

'See, that's the sign that we are made for each other. As asked by Swami Pigananda, I'd been bathing in the gutter since the last 7 years, waiting to someday attract you with my peculiar smell, and now that you're here, you're doubting the destiny.'

'I can't cheat on my Dadda. I can't shun our family's glory for you.'

'Your Dadda treats you as an object of flaunting. You're nothing more but a flashy asset for him, so that he flaunts it in amongst his peers.'

'Shut up. I can't tolerate your insolence. Get lost.'

'Go wherever you want, it's in our destiny to be together - we'll be. No-one can change the fate, not even your fear. You yourself will fight with your father when you realize how had he been using you. I'll be waiting for you.' Shabby turned back angrily. Her tail went up and down as she went ahead. Slimy was stunned, all too confused to think about what had happened and what would.

Desolate, he called his Daddy, 'Dadda, I met a she-pig today. She claimed that we were destined to be together. I fear what if she is true. I don't want to spoil our family's glory.'

Daddy pig got tense. He didn't condemn Slimy but said in a serious tone, 'Oh my dog! I knew it would happen. Does her name begin with an S?'

Slimy got worried, seeing his Daddy worried, 'What? How did you know that?'

'Nothing, son.' Daddy-Pig replied in a contemplative tone, 'Don't worry son, I won't let her take over you. You're our pride, I won't let anyone evil eye you.'

'Dad, do you know Swami Pigananda?'

'Huh, how do you know him?'

'I got the answer Dadda. It's indeed in our destiny. You know what, she had been bathing in the gutters since she was 9, just because she was to meet me. Whereas you just treated me as an object to flaunt amongst your peers. Can you ever match the intensity of her love?'

'What are you saying son? Please don't be so brutal, Son.'

'I'm going to marry her. I can't let you play with my fate anymore.'

'The prophesy has come true.'

'Yes, the prophesy has come true, no matter how hard you try to stop it.' He disconnected the call and vowed never to call again until his Daddy-pig accepted his bride. Slimy was of a marriageable age, so his want to carry out his research studies being happily married was not completely unjustified. Child marriage was in vogue in his Kachra-town, even his friends Champ and Robin had been married.

He ran to search for the enchantress, the lady with the intoxicating smell. After running for seven hours without a break nor a glimpse, he thought of giving his weary body some rest. Sweaty and thirsty, he decided to take a stall in the nearest gutter that he could find. Unfortunately, it took him another half an hour in this ultra modern city of Swineton to locate a gutter. It was the king of all - the city gutter. Imagine a swimming pool with fresh faeces, greasy liquids and rotten vegetables and plastics! What more could be more pleasing to a tired pig? He took a full throttle dive into the gutter and fell into the fragrant water 'dhapaak' se.

His dive took him to the bottom of the gutter, where he encountered ultra-modern waste adorned with urban-sewage. He relished the experience. He started imagining about Shabby, fantasizing about her sexy body - how they would make love in the same gutter when he finds her, how his conservative upbringing had made sex a taboo and how now he was free to explore the unknown; how he would convey to her his love in immaculately emotional poems, such as:

I see you, in love and delight
I feel you, despite all the fight

I miss you, in compost and pit
I smell you, in garbage and shit

I hear you, in all the farts
I love you, oh dear sweetheart

A sudden splash awakened him from his fantasy. It was the queen of his dreams. He couldn't believe his eyes. She was gasping deep breaths with her eyes closed. He hid inside the filthy water, his voyeuristic pigness couldn't resist to stealthily see her bathing.

'Baby, come. I'm waiting for you. This is the place where I had spent my seven years, just for you.'

Slimy was perplexed. How could she see me with her eyes closed, and especially now, that I'm inside the gutter-water?

'Baby, what are you waiting for?' Shabby said in a ravishing tone.

Slimy was driven to madness. He didn't know that he would have to satisfy his voyeuristic desires with his own action. He swam near her, slowly. She was waiting with her protruding snouts, filled with filth, to kiss him. This was the moment.

Dhapaak!

Slimy was suddenly at the bottom of the gutter. It seemed that a sumo wrestler just jumped on his head. His neck seemed to have suffered every kind of dislocation he could think of.

After gathering his own weight and the weight of pieces of his broken bones, he somehow managed to battle with the heavyweight over his head to come out on the other side of the gutter. The sight that he beheld would make even the voyeurs of the voyeurs shy. Shabby was making out with another ugly fat pig - upon careful observation he realized that it was his senior schoolmate from Kachra-town - Sweepdirt, who used to bully Slimy all throughout his schooldays thus, making him a wimp. Seeing the culprit behind his jeopardy, the man in him spoke, 'Shabby! How could you do this to me?'

Shabby was stunned. So was Sweepdirt. Shabby retorted, 'Oh my Dog! You're intruding upon my privacy! How could you do this to me?'

Slimy started crying and in tearful grunts, spoke, 'You cheated on me.'

Shabby said, 'Oh, I didn't. You know what, I met Sweepdirt today. You were so right that there could be another Pig from Kachra-town with the name beginning from 'S'.

'No, it was me. Swami Pigananda even visited my house and foretold about the prophesy.' Slimy replied.

Shabby said excitedly, 'No, it was not you. It's him. I forgot that Swami Pigananda said clearly that the man's name should end with dirt. And, he's the guy. Meet ...'

Slimy uttered in rage, 'Yes, the daily-bather, neat-n-clean, human-like - bloody cowhole! In short, Sweepdirt.'

Shabby replied, 'Great that you know him.'

Slimy taunted, 'As white as milk, fresh, shiny, bloody cowhole!'

'Stop using those swear words otherwise I'll say something very bad.' Sweepdirt retorted. Slimy controlled his tears and triggered his wrath at him.

'Say all you want. Let me see how much spunk have you got, bloody detergent washed dog-dick!'

'Son of a cow!' Sweepdirt said, grimacing his face.

Slimy burst into tears. He pulled his wobbly neck up the ladder and walked away on the boulevard of broken dreams. He felt guilty of fighting with his Dadda. At the same time, he felt bizarre about the prophesy that his Dadda was talking about. He dared to call him to apologize.

'Hi Dad, forgive me, I got swayed away. I'm back. I'm back - filthy and dirty - as before. Nothing could touch my impurity.'

'Son, I'm proud of you.'

'Dadda, what was the prophesy you were talking about?'

'That was the thing I wanted to tell you about. The prophesy that Swami Pigananda gave when you were a child was that you would fight with me for a girl upon getting admitted to the college.'

'Was it the prophesy? Didn't it have to deal with my marriage to a she-pig?'

'No, son. Swami said that God didn't make a she-pig for you.'

'Hmmm.' Slimy disconnected the call and went to his place. He never took bath in his life again.

P.S. Slimy Filthmaster devoted his entire life to studies and became a professor of Pigland School of Dinginess, later appointed as the Director of the same. His work on Universal Law of Crapination gave him worldwide fame. He was known for his isolation and bashful nature. He died a happily unmarried death on 31 March, 1727 and his epitaph contains his last words, 'All of us are pigs here. It's a sad fact that many are still running the rat-race.'

'Park'ing the butts!

It has been almost a year since I wrote something that delved into humour. The last bit was a short-novel called 'Oops!' which is now materializing in the form of a book. This is a small piece roving into the most loved genre of writing i.e. humour, which is inspired from a real-life ordeal of a very close friend of mine.

Prologue
People say that friends are those who can make you smile when you're sad and who can help you out when you're in trouble. But for Daksh, things were just the opposite. Perhaps, the things being totally opposite was what that made his life so interesting. Interesting, really? Well, we'll just see...

Friday night, 11'o clock. Chandigarh
"Guys, do you want to have some fun?" The sharp nasal voice broke the lull. A 200 pounds thick-skinned guy who looked more-or-less like a baby sumo proved to be its origin. His parents did not have a difficulty coining his name and gave him the most apt name - Sagar - which was good enough to describe his vastness.

"Fun! What kind of fun dude?" A petite man with face as round as a rugby-ball said with curiosity. His eyes twinkled.

"Shaan! Don't trust him. His ideas of fun are very weird. Don't you remember the last time we went to the cinema-hall? He emptied down his whole coke can on the adjacent seat before leaving." The gentleman in the white shirt said with concern. He was gentle - meek and gentle, to be precise. They called him Daksh(meaning expert). He really was an expert at getting nervous at nothing at all or doubting little-sumo's each and every idea of fun.

"Yeah, of course. Coke kissing the ass! It was really awesome, Sagar! I could laugh for hours just by remembering it." Shaan said with a mischievous smile making a begging-bowl on his face.

"See buddy! I've got fans." The sumo basked upon the glory of his destructively creative mind.

"Yeah sure, fans who would be hanged on the ceiling someday, that too for your mischief. Anyway, tell us your today's idea of fun." Daksh said trying to hide his visible curiosity behind the newly-formed wrinkles of his forehead.

"Not here! Come along to experience the fun." The baby-sumo smiled wickedly. He looked the cutest sumo ever.

"Where? What's the plan. At least, tell us something..." Shaan said with a little bit shaan.

"I've seen a park nearby today when I bunked the classes. Park - at night - doesn't it sound racy? Plus I've a surprise for you two that will be revealed when we get there. Daksh-y, you better stay at home...you know it will be dark and frightening. I don't want my friends to get a heart-attack before even getting married." Sagar carried on his slight-sarcasm.

11.30 pm. Just outside the park
"Dude, read this! You've seen the park already...didn't you read it?" Daksh pointed his pointed-fingers at the notice just outside the entry-gate of the park.

"What? Open only until 8 pm. Damn!" Shaan exclaimed.

"That's where the whole idea of fun lies. See, this park will be totally empty - devoid of people, light and the monotony of our hostels. And then I'll disclose the surprise." The sumo jumped in his prideful air.

"Screw you and your surprise. How will we get inside and what's the surety that there will not be any guards inside the park?"

"C'mon. What would a guard be doing inside a park? Guarding the trees or guarding the grass. I advised you to keep your ass off any adventure and you still are here...now you've no options other than following me. Now listen, we'll jump over the side-wall." Sagar took the lead.

"You go first." Daksh said consciously.

"I am not even sure whether you'll be able to cross it on your own!" Shaan hoaxed the Japanese-wrestling-master.

"Don't challenge me, you don't know. I have crossed higher walls than these." The Epitome of Roundness proclaimed. His round feet could not grasp the architecture of the wall.

"Should we help?" Daksh asked, this time with concern.

"Of course not." The two sets of hands at first prepared themselves upon hearing the first two words that struck the eardrums but the last word botched up all their preparedness.

Another try to make his cylindrical feet climb the summit produced a bizarre screech in the relatively silent surroundings. A Faux Pas.

"What was that? Did you hear that noise?" Shaan was curious.

"Dude, it's me! Don't laugh...please..." The duo looked up. Sagar's pant tore down at the perfect-most position, as if somebody had sliced it up with a knife along the butt-line. Despite the darkness, the big-sized bright white underwear peeping out of the pant made itself quite radiant around the wall. It seemed as if an overfed God was sitting on the wall with a 'misplaced' halo.

"Ok buddy, we won't laugh." Daksh said with a mischievous smile hidden.

"Ready one, two, three - go..." Shaan began the countdown - the countdown to...

"Hahahahahhahahahahaha......" The sound buzzed the surroundings for over a minute.

"I'll see you both. Just wait and watch." The God flushed his anger.

"Yeah, we are watching. But the sight is horrendous! Hahaha..." Daksh, for the first time, showed his adroitness in pulling someone's leg. And this time, that someone seemed none other than the God himself.

"Dude, you know what, you're shining!" Shaan put the toppings on the ongoing hoaxing.

The temporary God realised that until his halo is hidden, the bhaktas won't be relinquished. He took off his full-shirt and wrapped around the origin-of-the-halo thereby restricting the door to his Godliness.

He jumped down the other side and the other two followed without trying out any halo-genesis experiments.

11.45 pm, Inside the park
"What the fuck!" Daksh exclaimed. A slight precipitation suddenly appeared on his wrinkled forehead.

It had been just a few seconds since the trio landed their feet as well as butts in the unmanned territory, when something unexpected sprouted for them. In the moonlit darkness, Daksh noticed something strange.

"What's this? Didn't they get a better place to display this warning?" Shaan was puzzled.

"What's it guys?" The baby elephant said after finishing the inspection of the so-called racy place. The round eyes rounded around the warning which said 'Trespassers will be prosecuted'.

"Bloody dumbass! They're so dumb that they placed it inside the park. Had it been outside, at least my pant would have been spared." Sagar blurted out with disgust. Shaan chuckled and looked for Daksh to reciprocate but his eyes could not find him.

"Where is Daxy?" Shaan said and the four eyes hastened around the dark surroundings. There was no radiant halo present to illuminate it. The marathon of those eye-balls reached their finishing point simultaneously when they stared at the wall from where they jumped in. Someone was on top of it - someone who seemed to be an expert at wall-climbing - expert, he was.

"What happened to you? Where are you going Daxy?" Shaan shrieked.

"What? Do you guys still want to rove around the park? Didn't you read that warning? If yes, then I am sorry, I won't accompany you. I know you'll fall into trouble and make me a part of it."

"Hey man, you've already trespassed the boundary. You're no less a criminal than us. And even if you leave and we both fall into troubles, you will be the one who we'll revert to. There is no option left other than ... oops!" Sagar's long preaching encountered an abrupt full stop. The expert wall-climber fell off the wall. The duo rushed to him, being completely perplexed.

"Are you okay?" Sagar asked Daksh with concern.

"Sssshhh! There was a night-guard rambling along the corner of the road. Don't shout! By the way, my back hurts...awww...mummy!" Even his whisper sounded frightened.

The Laurel-Hardy pair gave the momentary back-broken body of Mr. Expert rest on their shoulders. They carried him along searching for a place to park their butts in that moonlit park.

"By the way, you could have jumped instead of falling." The high pitched nasal voice again exhibited its cacophony breaking the silence of the lulled park.

"Will you please whisper?" Daksh shouted as loud as he could in whisper.

"You can't stay-free if you whisper!" Shaan employed his imagination to fabricate a pun out of the delicate situation.

"Hahaha..." Sagar laughed quite freely, but this time in whisper. It even brought a slight curve which was just short of a smile in Mr. Expert's worrywart face.

"You didn't answer my question? Why did you fall down? Don't tell me that you got frightened seeing that night-guard."

"No dude, I was going to jump when suddenly some kind of reptile crossed my feet and gave me this backbreaking fall. Eh, it hurts!" Daksh looked embarrassed.

"Don't worry! We won't laugh." Sagar said.

"Ready, one-two-three go!" Shaan practiced his newly learnt numbers.

"Hahahaha ... this guy got frightened of a reptile ... hahaha ..." Sagar left no stones unturned to ridicule the Man-who-had-a-downfall. Shaan also didn't lag behind, he exercised his divine knowledge that laughter is the best medicine in a unique way by laughing in grunts.

"Aww...eeks!" Sagar's demonic laughter encountered a sudden speed-breaker. He started jumping on the way.

"Something crossed over my legs." Sagar exclaimed in horror. The two of them laughed their heads off.

"A reptile? Hahaha ... this guy got frightened of a reptile ... hahaha" Shaan broke his grunt-practice and burst into a wild laughter. Now they were well off the periphery and therefore could easily afford to stay free from whisper.

"It was not a reptile, rather a rubber band. I dropped a rubber band out of my pocket just to break his spell of ridicule. Hahaha...this guy got frightened of a rubber-band!" Daksh borrowed the newly invented style of mockery.

After walking with a living luggage on shouders, Sagar's fat eyes found a fat-bench - fat enough to let six fluffy-bundle-of-flesh take the most comforting-rest of their lifetime.

12.00 am - The Surprise
"Huff...finally this was the fun that we had been promised. A broken back, a boring park and wait a minute...what was the surprise that you were talking about?"

"Well, the surprise ... hmmm ... you remember it? Well, ladies and gentlemen, the surprise you've all been waiting for is none other than your very own Megha! Does it bring a tickle?"

"Oh gosh! Megha! How did you manage her..." The two pair of eyes looked dazzled with glimmer and ecstasy despite the darkness. Their curiosity was thousand-folded and their tongues were a centimeter short of coming out of their respective kennels.

"Where is she? Where...exactly?" Shaan said, his eyes piercing the darkness around.

"Here!" Sagar said and moved his hand generating complex spirals, the tip of the spiral being illuminated by his bright mobile-screen light. The sight was funny, as if an ultra-plump Hippo was playing with a digital-phuljhadi in the gloomy surroundings.

"Sexyyyyyyyyy! You got her number...man you're just awesome. How did you manage it?" Shaan exclaimed.

"I just managed. I don't like to disclose my secrets." Sagar said with his heavy eyelid falling under gravity over one eye, in short fabricating a wink.

"Really? Man, this is the best thing you've ever done!" Daksh forgot about his broken back amidst this breaking news.

Megha. A ravishing beauty - the one and only girl in the Mechanical Engineering Department. Each and every guy of the fachcha-crowd was infatuated with just one name - Megha, our trio being no exception. Yes, they were the first yearites. They had experienced just one month since they transported their asses from their school-benches to the college-sleeping-berths.

Even in the hot summer with no rain, gori-Megha kept on disturbing them at night and sometimes, even during the day. Thankfully to her, the Mechanical Engg. Dept. of SUSCET, Chandigarh encountered 100% attendance in the first one month of the classes. Her number was the dream of every 'single' guy of the college and it caused some dilemma in even the already committed few.

"That's not all buddies! There is another surprise. See the time. It is 12 am. It means 9th August. It means it's her birthday. But, I've no balance left in my phone. You'll have to lend me yours."

"Woah! Man you rock! You found the perfect reason ... now keep off guys! I'm going to call her first... Sagar, give me her number...Megha, prepare to get impressed with your ideal match..." Shaan motivated himself and snatched the phone from Sagar.

"Dude! Give me your phone! I am going to call her first. She even talked to me during classes on two occasions...she would recognise me even..." Daksh asked Shaan.

"Why are you asking for my phone then? If you're so desperate to call, then do it with your own cell. You're never short of balance as far as I know." Shaan rebuked.

"Dude, you don't understand. My mother keeps a track of me. She is so very suspicious about me that she gives me a ring or two at anytime in the night just to check whether my cellphone is busy or not. She fears that I would fall for some Punjabi girl and let her down in my Brahmin society. Her night-duty starts as soon as the clock strikes 11. She had given two check-calls with just one ring since the last one hour." Daksh said being completely annoyed.

"Now I see why worry is in your genes. Hahaha...Biharis are so funny yaar." Sagar ridiculed Daksh while Shaan was preoccupied making sure that he typed Megha's number in his cellphone perfectly.

"See. It's already 12.05 am. We should call her soon to make our image good in her eyes. Daksh, since you already had talked to her, you call her. But make sure you tell her that it is my number, and hand over the phone to me as soon as possible." Shaan directed Daksh.

"Will it sound okay to straightaway call a girl, that too at midnight?" Daksh switched on his worry-factory.

"Come on! It's her birthday... no one gets psyched on one's birthday. You better switch the speaker on and Shaan, don't forget to introduce me to her at last. After all, they say save the best for the last." Sagar said with drops of mischief falling down from each and every corner of his face.


12.08 am. The Awaited Call
The three faces rounded around Shaan's cell-phone with eyes in expectation and heart in desire to hear their hearthrob's sensuous voice. Daksh cleared his throat and was ready to let loose his masculine voice.

Shaan pressed the call button. At first, they could hear their own heartbeats amplified in expectations but soon, Sagar's internal-bass-woofer-system numbed the sound of the duo's heartbeats.

"Tring-tring...tring-tring...tring-tring...tring-tring..." The silly-and-cliched phone-ring's tone digged their ears.

"Isn't it strange that her phone is not busy on her birthday? She might be an early-sleeper. Eeks...I am disconnecting the call!" Daksh said and moved his hands towards the red-button while the irksome tring-tring continued, just then...

"Hell..lo!" A sleepy-and-irritated voice gifted the hell to the trio.

"Hello, is it Megha?" Daksh managed to speak up.

"Yes it is. But who is it?" She grew more irritated at discovering some stranger disturbing her late at night.

"Hi, I am ... am... one of your collegemates. I just called you to wish you Happy Birthday!" Her cruel melody made Daksh forget his own name. His feet started trembling.

"Birthday! What kind of joke is it? I've seen idlers like you! This is a very old method to start a talk with a girl but let me tell whosoever you are that I am not one of those nymphomaniacs. I am going to complain to police if I receive another call!" Megha thundered.

His heartbeat beat Sagar's woofer-system and Shaan too was a bit shocked. Suddenly,

"Kabhi kabhi aditi
zindagi mein koi to
apna lagta hai!"

buzzed the surroundings.

"What was that?" Three voices simultaneously creaked, of which one had its origin in the throat of the gorgeous. Daksh was unperturbed but at the same time disgusted.

"Dude, it's my Mom. This is her yet another check. And madam, you kindly listen. Keep this phone call to be your birthday wish for the rest of your lifetime. I am not going to bother you ever. I've better things to do than calling a wicked butthead like you at midnight." He yelled his disgust out at the beauty and disconnected the phone. Sagar was laughing wildly and even Shaan chose to be in the side of the mockery-maker.

"Damn you Hippo! I'll kill you ... there is a limit to everything and you've crossed it today! I am safe that I forgot my name while talking otherwise what impression would she have about me? Plus, my Mom's check. Damn, life is so dramatic for me! By the way, I am going to kick your ass - you bloody pig!" Daksh said with his wrinkled forehead seeking revenge.

Daksh raced towards Sagar and punched his flossy-belly which looked much more like a boxing-pad and kicked his already-kicked ass. The kick did its job and the halo lighted the place around yet again and Sagar embarrassingly tried to bolt its door.

"Chill man! It was just a little game." Sagar tried to explain, but his try remained a try. Meanwhile, Shaan face imported some of the worrying-properties from Daksh's.

"Yaar, what if she lodges a complain to the police, after all, it was my number."

"I don't think she would do it right away. And we're not going to call her ever again, so I don't think there is much worry." Daksh gained back his composure. His expert logic transported Shaan back from the alienated-world-of-worry.

12.20 am. The Encounter
The duo heaved a sigh of relief while the baby-sumo was busy finding a fixture for his mass-ass, when suddenly his chubby eyes noticed four feet tramping towards them from the far darkness.

His heavy feet suddenly found an engine to accelerate - accelerate in the opposite direction.

"Run, someone's coming!" Sagar shouted to the duo and rushed towards the famous-wall-of-the-misplaced-halo. The duo followed, but could not outrace the big-foot-big-bottomed runner.

The bulky-athlete reached the wall and tried to push his mighty-body up, but could not succeed. His fellow-athletes reached the place soon and he pleaded to them, "Please help me climb up or I'll quit!"

The tiddly duo tried their best to let the Master-of-Calories climb up. Sagar's right leg was just one inch short of reaching the top of the wall when suddenly a loud-screech seethed the surroundings. This time his half-torn pant was promoted to be called a fully-torn pant and the halo emerged making a bright ring in between his body.

In a reflex, he moved his hands off the wall and tried to catch hold of his shredded pant. He managed to remove his pants off their original place but mismanaged everything else. As expected, the God fell down on two of his bhaktas, blessing their cheeks with his divine aura and his misplaced halo gifting them displaced jaws. Now with just his brand-new-big-sized-white-underwear adorning his lower body, he totally resembled a baby-sumo on top of two meek-and-gentle road-rolled souls.

The trio lay down in broken condition in front of the warning-board which seemed like laughing at them and saying that - 'Trespassers will be prosecuted.'

The sound of the footsteps rustling through the grasses grew louder and louder as time passed. The trio had no energy nor any chance left to escape the encoming surprise. Sagar displaced his 'misplaced' halo off the duo's face and that brought enough respite to them to face any encoming trouble.

The six eyes steered through the darkness along the ground and what they saw made their pants plus God's underwear wet in fear. There were four feet standing upright just a meter away from them and were ready to play the tough game with the fun-seeking-triad.

"I told ... ah ... that Megha would lodge a complain! See, they are already here..." Shaan shrieked twisting his displaced jaws upon seeing those two men in Khaki - one giraffe-like well-built soul and the other being more or less a lilliputian - rendering a perfect combination of Bade Miyan - Chote Miyan.

"How could it happen? This is just impossible! Police can't act so swiftly." Daksh was again back in his whisper-mode, while Sagar's heavy eyeballs were stuck at the four feet which were a meter apart.

"The race is over gentlemen! Hands up. I said hands up!" The Chote Miyan thundered in his grave baritone. The trio stood up despite their broken neck, jolted back and shaken jaws and finally managed to stand on their legs with just four hands up.

"Don't you listen rascal - hands up?" A feminine voice bombed their eardrums. The three musketeers were startled by the two musketeers and began looking for its origin.

"I told you it was Megha!" Shaan shrieked in fear.

"What are you staring at? I am talking to you. Hands up! And who is this Megha?"

THE REAL FUN IS JUST GOING TO ARRIVE...TO BE CONTINUED IN A DAY or TWO(will be updated around 9th morning)...

The Bet

30th June, 2009
Scene 1
'Ding dong! Tunn...tunn...tunn...' The sound struck Shrey's ears. It was the Royal Cathedral's bell that just told him that it was three o' clock in the afternoon.

He was at the Buchannan Bus Station, Glasgow and had a bus to catch at 3.40 pm for Edinburgh. Punctuality was in his genes. He reached the bus station an hour before the bus was going to leave. He hoped to find someone, after all, two of his friends Rohit and Farhan were also going along with him to Edinburgh.

Even after cross-checking his bag for the necessary goods more than a dozen times, he kept checking the stuff inside from time to time. He had everything in there, right from shaving kit, clothes, laptop, chargers to foodstuff packed as neatly as a newly-wed bride's room, just one thing was missing - the bus ticket. He was not worried though, since he delegated that responsibility to Rohit a week ago and gave him 30 pounds in total to book tickets for whole of the journey.

Scene 2 - The Bet
3.10 pm. He kept his bag on the ground and suddenly, somebody tapped his shoulders. It was Rohit.

"Hey bro! As always you're here before me! What do you do by coming so early?" Rohit asked.
"I just have a look around. After all, there is so much to see here." Shrey said with a naughty smile.
"Aha! I see. So much to see. Now I got the reason." Rohit said.
"Leave the reasons aside, give me the change. I gave you 30 pounds for the ticket, you must have got something left?"
"Oh! Tickets...I delegated that task to Farhan. He was going to the station that day."
"Dude! I intentionally asked you to do that! How could you give it to Farhan? He's such a disorganized person, he'll pack everything up in the last hour and I am damn sure, that he'll miss the ticket." Shrey said irritably.
"You can never be so sure buddy!"

"I can always be if that guy is Farhan. He holds the record of losing his things maximum number of times. Don't you remember that he lost his wallet during the last trip to Inverness? And not to forget the two mobile-phones, of which one was worth 80 pounds. 80 pounds - have you any bloody idea what that amount means? I can feed myself for two weeks with that money. Farhan! Freaking careless and now even phone-less!" Shrey exploded his hate for the species called 'careless people' in one go.

"But still, I don't think he could be so silly as to forget taking tickets with him for the journey. I bet he won't forget. 5 pounds is my bid!"

"I too bet - that he'll definitely forget! I bet my 10 pounds rather that he'll forget the ticket and would come with his irritating smile as if it were saying - 'this was the one last time bro, from the next time there will be no mistakes.'"

"Done! I am going to be richer by 10 pounds." Rohit said.

"You're being overconfident, just wait for 10 minutes; we'll all know who gets richer!" Shrey said looking at his watch, it was 3.20 pm now, just ten minutes to go when the boarding for the bus starts.

"By the way, I suppose you'd told him about all the journey details - 3.40 bus, then Evening ride to the Holyrood Hill in Edinburgh and all. At any cost, I fear that he'll even be able to reach here on time." Shrey said in an indifferent tone.

"Yes. I explained him everything. You got to have faith."

Scene 3
The talk paused for a while when the bus came into the stance and the passengers were asked to keep their baggage in the luggage box. Rohit kept standing with his light bag tightly hugging his backbone while Shrey took his delicately-arranged heavy bag with utmost care and cautiously kept it in the luggage-box. Meanwhile, the passengers lined up in a queue for boarding. The duo with no ticket, and no clue of Farhan the-ticket-wala anywhere, exercised their ciliary muscles in the meanwhile by dilating their eye-balls to filter the-ticket-wala in the crowd around. They could not trace him.

"Damn! Now Farhan is boiling my blood!" Shrey is agitated.

"He knows about buses, much more infact, since his last mobile phone was lost in the bus only. Still there are 10 minutes to go. He'll come with the ticket. He'll not let me lose the bet." Rohit is calm and composed.

3.30 pm. The boarding started. The two sets of eyes - one being more agitated than ever before and the other having just forgotten its principle of calm-sutra; were frantically searching around the crowd. Of thousand bright-skinned people in the bus station, finding someone who was of a tanned-texture was not a difficult task, but that tanned texture to be that of Farhan seemed impossible.

"Man, this bet is not taking us anywhere. We both are losing. Losing 30 pounds each. He has even forgotten to come. You were right! That bloody careless forgot even about the journey." Rohit echoed Shrey's skepticism. Shrey's blood pressure shot in rage.

3.36 pm. The entry had started and the queue now contained just a dozen homo sapiens. There was no hint of where our hero Farhan was!

The four eyes were tired of analyzing every tanned face they observed, so the eyes went back to their original seats.

Scene 4
A minute passed, when suddenly, Rohit screamed, "Oh my gosh! He has made it. That too with the bus-ticket." Farhan was painting their retina. He was at some distance, hopping towards them with a tortoise-smile on his face and a rabbit's jump wobbling his body. He held a paper in his hand - just a paper - no luggage, no bags, nothing at all.

"Here is your 10 pounds bro! You win the bet! But that creepo had given me a nightmare in broad daylight. Losing 10 pounds feels at least better than losing 30 pounds...huh!" Shrey sounded relieved despite losing the bet and now Rohit's wallet was heavier with 10 new golden coins making victorious music as they went inside.

The Countdown
3.37 pm.
The hip-hopper jumped all through the way and greeted the duo. The duo dislodged themselves from the queue for the time being - it didn't matter them much since they were standing last in the queue.

"Hey buddies! What are you people doing here? At the bus station?" Farhan said in a cheerful tone.
"Don't pretend! Your smile isn't going to win our hearts." Shrey remarked. Farhan stood confused.
"Where is your luggage? Aren't you carrying along any bags or clothes?" Rohit said with his face taking the most bizarre form of his lifetime.

3.38 pm
"Bag, luggage...what for?" Farhan looked puzzled.
"Stop kidding bro! I am already fed-up with you. Isn't it the ticket that you're holding in your hand?" Shrey said, a bit irritated this time.
"Yeah, it is, so?" Farhan said.
"So what? Board the bus! Give me the ticket..." Rohit said and snatched the ticket from Farhan's hand.
"What the fuck? What the heck is it?" Rohit was flabbergasted. Shrey peeped in.

3.39 pm
"What kind of joke is it? You have brought 'Angels and Demons' movie ticket out here...where is the bus ticket...to Edinburgh...today's journey ticket?" Shrey asked in a tone that showed he had started losing his temper.
"Wait a minute! What date is it today?" Farhan asked. His eyes were trying to find a shelter outside his skull.
"30th June."
"Oh fuck!" Farhan exclaimed horridly. The phrase turned quite a few heads nearby.

3.40 pm
"You left the ticket at home, don't you?" Shrey charged. Farhan stared at him with a blank face.
"Damn! I lost the bet!" Rohit exclaimed before Farhan could speak a word. He handed a twenty pounds note to Shrey. Shrey looked happy though losing 30 pounds for the ticket was tickling his angry heart.
"Bet? What bet?" Farhan asked, rather to himself in a nonplussed tone.
"Damn you! How could you forget the ticket? 30 pounds in vain." Rohit screamed at Farhan. His irritation at losing the bet did a sleek task of increasing his anger every other second.
"I forgot the tickets. But I can't understand why are you people crying for 30 pounds. The money you gave me is still with me. 'I forgot the tickets' - by this phrase - I mean that I forgot to book the tickets. I'm really sorry for that! It's all my mistake..."

3.41 pm
Instead of being anguished, the faces of Rohit and Shrey lightened. A close-up smile sparked the surrounding, and they both simultaneously hugged Farhan side by side. The sudden uplift in their feelings-storehouse came from the fact that their 30 pounds was still safe and it shot their miser ego to a higher state. All the while, Farhan was a bit baffled at their reaction.

"So, what are you doing here then at the bus station?" Rohit asked being pleased with himself as well as with everybody else.
"I just came back after watching the movie 'Angels and Demons' through bus number 118 and as soon I deboarded from the bus, I saw you two standing here in the queue. So, here I am with the ticket."

Scene 5 : The Climax
"The queue for the bus! Oh shit!" Shrey exclaimed in horror. He turned to the side and all his dark-brown eyes could see was air replacing the space which Megabus occupied moments ago.

"My air-bag! Oh shit! It had my laptop." Shrey held his head in his hands and cried like a three years old child. He was busy remembering his beloved bag, about how the air bag would be enjoying the breeze between Glasgow to Edinburgh, which he was supposed to enjoy.

The Rohit-Farhan duo left no stones unturned at laughing on The Epitome of Carefulness's miraculous transformation into an object of ridicule.

"What was the bet you were talking about?" Farhan spoke intentionally to lighten Shrey's mood by changing the topic.

"Oh yeah! The bet! So, tell me Shrey who won the bet?" Rohit asked. Shrey didn't respond. He was sitting with his head resting upon his palms and his eyes concentrating on the mosaic tiles of the ground. Meanwhile, Farhan went behind Shrey to do something - something pre-planned.

"Screw you both!" Shrey screamed and just then something appeared from beneath his chair. Something which he had been missing with all his heart, which he had arranged with so much patience, something that was supposedly enjoying the breeze between Glasgow to Edinburgh. It was an air-bag with the name 'Shrey Saxena' imprinted on it and there was a paper pinned to its upper cover. Shrey jumped in joy, the joy he had never ever experienced before in his so-called organized life, and in that moment of elation he picked that special paper, which said -

Megabus - Glasgow to Edinburgh
Booking number - P8715384
Date of Journey - 30th June, 2009
Time of Journey - 4:40 pm

And in the bottom, a handwritten note saying -

"Now tell us, who won the bet?"

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P.S. This one was supposed to go somewhere, but it went somewhere else, and am glad it did because it has become better than it would have been otherwise.
P.S. This is emphasizing human nature - the basic pride that we feel if we're good at something makes us underestimate every other person who is not as good as us, but the reality is every person can be as good as we are in anything if we just give them time and chance.
P.S. Here friends plan this trickery to make a situation where the most organized guy is suffering the most while the most casual guy has enjoyed the most.

The Pendulum

Time - 1 am.
Sunday night, 5 days before the majors exam.
The location - Room no. xx, 'Arbit' Hostel, IIT Delhi.

Our protagonist, Mr. Anuj Modi had just turned off his laptop and he was endowed with an irritated look on his face.

Mr.Modi took his specs off, massaged his eyeballs with his courtesy-to-the-keyboard calloused fingertips and heaved a loud sigh. The loud machine gun noise owing its origin to a computer game called Counter Strike buzzed his ears, his irritation climbed the charts and he popped his head to have an 'annoyed' look at his roommate. His roommate was meditating at the screen in front of him, eyes wide open rather than being closed while meditation and the hands in synergy with the brain for executing the reflex. The machine gun voice continued to buzz the surroundings. Our protagonist's face was busy in climbing Mt. Annoyance; the summit seeming endless.

He saw his watch. It was 1:10 am, the date was 26th April and his irritation reached neared the summit. He looked around. For something. He was searching something. He unfurled his bedsheet but still he could not locate that thing. Peeved completely, he bent down and there it lay - his mobile phone - switched off. He switched it on, it had over two dozen missed calls of his girlfriend Isha.

He lay there wondering, "She might be asleep till now! Shit man, I wasted my last six hours over the internet...killing time...doing nothing."

He switched off the lights and shouted at his roommate, "Creepo! Put your headphones on. I am sleeping."

His voice, subdued by the machine-gun's noise, could not break that yogi's concentration spell. He screamed, "Bloody creepo! Shut down your speakers!"

This time, the scream made the difference, the amplification of machine gun's noise now went directly into creepo's ears through noise isolating headphones.

Mr. Modi 'tried' to sleep. 'Tried', but didn't quite succeed. He was feeling annoyed with himself. He twisted and turned over his small bed intermittently, the room was quite hot and he was feeling sultry. Thoughts started wandering. Not here and there, but only at one point i.e. academics. The insurmountable academic pressure struck his mind with a great force. He could not sleep. He opened his eyes. He realized that his closed eyes were giving him more torture than every other thing in this universe. He pressed a button on his mobile phone. The time had run, run quite rapidly, as it was 1:40 am then.

He checked his mobile-phone inbox, it contained her sweet messages, the first one saying, "I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much, muahh! <3"

He went through the other messages, his heart could feel a tickle, he wanted to talk to her - desperately. The dilemma of not-to-disturb-her-while-sleeping and uncontrollable-desire-to-talk-to-her played simultaneously with his mind. Finally he gave in. He pressed the green button.

Rings went by. First, second, third...fourteenth...to finally, "The number you are trying to reach is not responding at the moment. Kindly try after sometime."

He was sad as well as happy. Sad because he could not talk despite his great urge, and happy because he was not guilty of disturbing her sleep.

He chose to give his insomniac mind yet another tryst with sleep. He shut his eyelids and took a deep breath in. With the deep breath in, the same stressing thoughts regarding academics knocked his mind again. He was irritated, much more this time. Suddenly, something tickled his ears and his eyes were amazed - it was his mobile-phone, with 'Isha Calling' flashing the blue-lighted screen.

"Hi bacha. How are you? I thought you were sleeping!" Anuj said.
"I was in the loo when you called. I could not sleep. I was worried about you. Are you OK? What happened to your mobile...I was trying it for the last three hours and it was switched off! Where were you?"
"Oh! Don't remind me of the past hours!" Anuj said, his expressions were seemingly anguished.
"What? Is there anything wrong?"
"My whole life is bloody wrong. The majors are just 5 days ahead and what am I doing? Sitting over net, chatting and posting random things around. My entire syllabus is yet to be touched, I have hardly attended a lecture in the last couple of weeks and bloody me, I am sitting for hours on the net!" Anuj reached the peak of annoyance, but it was no big achievement to celebrate.
"Baby, still you've ample time, you can repair every error. C'mon cheer up!"
"How can I cheer up? I want to throw my laptop out of my window!" Anuj said seeing his newly purchased laptop lying on his table.
"Discipline yourself rather breaking your laptop. Everything can be put back into place, just organize yourself. Go to sleep!" Isha said.
"I am not getting sleep! I am so irritated at myself. I am going nowhere. I am stagnating, doing nothing constructive, not even doing the primary job for which I came here i.e. studying. I don't know what pushes me to log in my facebook account and keep refreshing my wall without any reason. Tell you something, I am going to be a big failure in my life. You chose the wrong guy! I am warning you, leave me now, I would not like seeing you with a failure in your future." His tone became more and more disgusted and self-condescending.
"Hey baby, c'mon! This attitude won't help. And don't dare abusing yourself. You might not care about yourself but I care about you. It's just a phase, it will pass. Struggle always requires patience. C'mon, we'll just plan your coming week now and everything will seem easy to you." Isha said patiently.
"Nothing is easy, because I am taking it as too easy. I am going to fail in my exams."
"Shut up! Don't dare say a word! It had been 5 minutes listening to all your non-sense. Now listen to me. First, move out of your room. Get out JUST NOW! Get yourself some fresh air. C'mon, lazy bones, shed your laziness. Stand up or I'll cut the phone!" Isha said didactically.

Heaving a huge sigh, Anuj got up, went outside his room staring at his absorbed-in-counter-strike roommate with patronizing eyes.

"I have become like everyone else - idle with nothing to do. Academics is sucking big-time and there is nothing else to flaunt upon. I hate myself."
"Chill, c'mon tell me are you out of your hostel?" Isha asked patiently.
"Ya."
"Can you see the moon?" Isha asked.
"Yes, I can."
"Look at it carefully. Can you see two faintly-dark spots on the right side of the moon?" Isha asked. She was adept in lightening his mood.
"Yeah! There are a few more spots, but they seem merged to the original one. "
"Good, now try to locate the Big Dipper and the Orion!" Isha said.
"Located."
"Just join the handle of the Big Dipper to the three collinear stars of Orion, what figure do you get?"
"Hmm, wait let me try it! Hmm...I can't get it...just a little hint, please?" Anuj asked, he was finding it difficult to figure out what was it.
"No hints! You're an IITian, the so-called cream of the nation, let me see how fast your mind works! Your real standard is going to be revealed!" Isha said.
"I got it...It is like a a coca-cola bottle with coke leaking towards a well."
"Nopes buddy, so this is the brain which you people flaunt? Can't even guess a single figure."
"Don't challenge my brain! This time I got it, it is like a Rhino with a spoon-like tail."
"Hmmmm." Isha said slowly.
"Bingo! I told you don't challenge my brain. Loser!"
"Hmm." Isha said in a contemplative tone.
"What 'hmm'?" Anuj said in wonder.
"I was just wondering how wonderfully you use your so-called sharp brain for manufacturing complex shapes out of no shapes at all." Isha said.
"What do you mean?"
"Dumbo! I mean, there was no shape, I gave it just for timepass. I made a fool out of you, in short!"
"Oh! I can see you smiling - that shrewd smile of yours." Anuj said. He was not annoyed with this little game which Isha played with him, rather he relished it. After all, his mood was rekindled.
"Hmm. Aren't you too smiling honey?" Isha said. She definitely rejuvenated his mood.
"Yes I am. Feeling much better after a smile." Anuj liked the free fall from the summit of Mt. Annoyance.
"Now, let us plan everything. Just see how easy things become when you work on a time-table."
"Cool. But first I should do something about internet. It has become an obsession for me." He was looking at his situation from a non-annoyed angle for the first time.
"Can I give you an advice?" Isha said with a genuineness in her voice.
"Yeah, sure. Say!"
"Discard your LAN-cable for the next two weeks. You give it to some friend of yours to lock it in his cupboard and then you'll never get a chance to pursue your obsession of internet."
"Hmm, sound advice! I will implement it."
"No 'will'. You are going to implement it 'now'. Go back to your hostel, c'mon."
"I am feeling nice out here, the breeze is so soothing, I'll go in sometime and do it. I promise." Anuj tried to sound convincing.
"Breaking promises is one of your hobbies."
"Not this time. I'll do it as soon as I enter my room. Happy? The weather is so romantic, leave all these things for a while, let us talk about something else baby." Anuj's happiness wanted to take some other course.
"Hmm, the lover back in action...all thanks to me!" Isha said.

The talk continued for yet another hour. The content of the talk became a bit more private and privacy is not the genre that I want to touch upon. After one hour, Anuj felt that the lover inside him was sagging and was desperate to give the fatigued backbone a relaxed sleep. He bid a bye to Isha with all kinds of buttering and polishing making him the most romantic guy of the hour. He disconnected his call just at the corner near his hostel and had a look at his mobile for time. It was 4 am, not quite surprising for him. Time flows like wind while talking to one's girlfriend. He was feeling happy, excited and his mood was calm rather a bit on the naughty side. He considered himself lucky to have Isha as his girlfriend.

He reached his hostel after strolling through the breezy IIT-D campus for the last two hours. He entered his room, his gaming-maniac roommate was sleeping, with the same concentration as he had about three hours back.

He turned on the lights. He could see the laptop on his table, with the LAN cable connecting his laptop to the mighty internet hub. The talk about discarding the LAN cable crossed his mind. He moved his right hand towards the LAN cable. Suddenly, his hand froze, something within him stopped him. "Let me check my mails and notifications for one last time", came the inner voice. It was like God speaking from within him.

He opened the lid of the laptop and pressed the power button. He logged into facebook as well as gmail account and checked his wall and mails. There was no increment in notifications, messages or mails still he kept refreshing those pages. Time passed, he forgot his backache and droopy eyes, 'the one last time' continued for the next three hours until he was transported to a dream state with his cheek getting the imprints of the keyboard below.

Our protagonist was awakened by his room-mate at 4 pm the next day, who despite feeding his fingers to the laptop last night for a longer time than Mr.Modi, attended all the lectures the next day, while our Mr.Modi was making rhino with spoon-like tails out of the stars scintillating in his dreams the whole day.

P.S. The LAN wire never got unplugged and the rest is history.

P.S. It's a true story.
P.S. I got an idea for a sci-fi short-story, the next one will be the one.