Not every time krish wakes up to a rattling sound of the door. Being dragged out from his deep, beer induced sleep, an amalgamation of varied emotions surged him, making him as unbalanced as the proportions of water and alcohol as the sip of drink, he had the previous night. The reality seemed as abstract and weird as the complex, alcohol driven dream he just had a few moments ago, which ended up abruptly before he could possibly make out anything from it, by the hard tapping sound of the door.
Characterized by a somnolent walk, he strolled over the entire breadth of his dingy, unbelievably small, yet compact cozy room, reaching for the door knob,all the while his eyes being shut. As soon as he opened, someone entered stomping him, hardly, while his eyelids opened suddenly, in a reflex to witness a near absurd sight. Standing before him, was a gigantic figure; untidy and dirty to maximum extent. More untidy and nasty his shirt would get in his alcohol stimulated frenzy. What was even more bizarre was that he was holding a stack of currency notes in his left hand. More than half a dozen Ghandhijis delightedly, smirking at him.
Leaving no time for him to react, he stuffed the hot cash in his pocket while saying, "I want it, as soon as possible", in an authoritative tone, very much like his project manager. "Want what?", he asked. Swerving as swiftly as he could in the staircase, he retorted, "Already enough is discussed. I want it. Just for a day and if possible for a night." He wanted to probe further, but the 10 notes having ghandhiji's smiling at him, gave him an instant excitement, leave alone the consequences.
He tried to decipher the strange event that had just happened, figuring every possible signs, and the remnants of the previous night's intoxicated frenetic moments. He had known that guy, and recollected almost every conversation he had with him, previously. He was strange; every aspect of him, appearance and the series of disconnected long sentences he usually used to speak, makes it not much difficult to figure out that he is mentally deranged. His insanity never gets beyond the blabbering and drinking stuffs. If not, he would've been long put up behind the bars of a mental asylum. Krish gets insane to such an extent, to give a match to this strange guy's strangeness whenever he boozed up. And every bit of words he had shared with him , was either in person or through long chatting sessions in facebook, at the peak of his intoxicated frenetic moments. But Krish wondered, what strange thing on earth, he must've said that made the strange man to stuff 6 notes of 1000 rupees in his pocket. After all 6000 rupees is more than the quarter of his salary. More than enough for him to survive, with food and water for a month.
Leaving no time for these investigative thoughts to germinate, his door thumped again. This time in a very lightly, deliberately creepy way, like a ghost making it's presence felt, in the weird hours of the night. Striken by a strange fear, he reached swiftly to the door knob, unclutched it, and witnessed something, which triggered a heart attack, sprinkled with a little surprise.
It's was her. The very girl, he'd been prowling over for the past 2 years. It's hardly a week since his name in her waiting list, moved up to RAC, and got confirmed unexpectedly. Seeing her, the alcohol triggered blush in his face, became even more gloomier, with the happiness of her unexpected early morning attendance. Waking up to the company of the girl he loves in a confused, inebriated condition, caused by the night long alcohol induced frenzy, made him think that his day was made. But instantly, this series of thoughts subdued into a sense of doubt and strangeness. He just remembered the first quarrel he had with her, the previous night.
Like a sudden power failure, his thought fan stopped whirling abruptly by the sight of her right hand, strecthing towards the top, like a fast bowler, preparing to deliver the throw in full toss, her hand's direction, swerved perpendicular to his cheek, before he could even realize what's happening, he felt a sudden sense of soreness; a pain that reminded him of the slap, he got from his maths teacher in the good old school days.
Slapping him, with all her might she left immediately, leaving no clue of the series of bizarre events happening around him.
Left with no clue, to the gory hands of frustration and disappointment, he took his mobile, to call her. His android phone's home screen, displayed a facebook notification.
Suspiciously, he he opened it. Facebook home page said, 4 people like his status. He hardly remember anything on posting a status. Something smelled fishy.He opened.
A photo of his girl friend, appeared. Facebook said, he posted it on 11:48p.m the previous night, with a tagline.
"Girl friend for sale. No pun intended.."
P.S.: My friend suggested this a 1 line script for a funny short film. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment