7 stories - 7 individuals - A number of emotions...
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I'm looking at the sky, not a cloud there, only the Sun glaring back at me. Oh God, it's July already! He Bhagwan, why are you testing us by holding the rains. Hell.. The village of Kardi will surely have a drought this year, I know! I hear 21 farmers killed themselves last year in Maharashtra due to similar situations in there villages.
How much will the Government help? And how many times?
'And why?'
'Yes, why. Wasn't it you villagers who allowed that contractor to raze the lush green jungles nearby to the ground to start the stone mines?!'
'Didn't your daughter learn in the school?! Jungles are essential for the rain, once they're gone, no rain!'
I gasp and helplessly answer, "No"
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I finish composing it! This has become a winner composition! Mama tells me she’s never heard about a 15 year old composing and playing such a heavenly melody on the piano. She’s so sure about me winning tomorrow's State Music competition.
Happily I go to Rebecca’s place to play it to her. She's my best friend. From her window I see her sitting by the piano playing it. I go and wait at the door and stand by it listening. She’s playing her composition with her eyes closed. Her tune is almost as good as mine, still it lacks the punch. I know it. She knows it. She looks at me and covers up her sad feeling with her cute smile. I join her on the piano and start playing to her a different tune.
On the competition day on my way to school my diary having the composition slips and falls into the river from the bridge. My solo performance is beginning in an hour. I walk up to the teacher and explain to him the incidence. My teacher’s going nuts for last 2 hours and is telling me again and again to remember it..
“So, any development?” He asks
I calmly answer, “No”
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I'm sitting on the rock, facing the Sea. The moonlit night, the cool sea-wind in my hair seem romantic. But I'm not in that mood. I'm fuming.
For last 1 year I'm trying to cover up for my one mistake, a mistake that cost me my entire team. Gold! We'd captured Rs. 10 Crores of Gold. General D'Mello gave 5 to the Government, kept undisclosed 5 for himself. On top of that.. he set that bloody smuggler free! Ofcourse, THAT meant another reward for him! And what for us, the team? Nothing! And then came the gang of mercenaries, sent by the same smuggler.. and they finished their job alright.. wiping out my entire team..
I hear footsteps and turn around. Lieutenant Phalke is coming running towards me. Does he have a good news for me? "Captain, we've intercepted their message. They're reaching the lagoon at 0400 hours" I run back to the control room. The conversation is being played again. Oh, it does not mean what it sounds like, it's better! They are coming right now.. landing at 0130 hours! That too with the arms and ammo; this is huge. Huge! I start briefing the team, charging them up with some pep-talk.
We quietly reach the beach near the lagoon, it's a dark night. In the dark of the jungle, we wait. On seeing the flashing light and the call signs, from the land, from the sea, we know... Yes; time to avenge the brave dead!
They come, they land, and start unloading. I order the attack.
Bang bang, we attack, bang bang, they start shielding and retreating.
None of my men die, charged as they are.. Most of the smugglers are killed.
Standing over one injured I command, "state your name" "Rafique" "Where from?" "Pakistan" "Who sent the guns?" "The ISI; please take me to the hospital saab.. I'm dying. I'm just their servant, helping them carry the boxes..."
Bang... I free his spirit. 'well, he helped them carry it didn't he?'
Phone rings, the General's on line. He's heard about the interception and is sounding really impatient..
"So any development?" He asks
I firmly answer, "No"
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"Oh, Come ON!" Danny's frustrated. Why not?! We are loosing millions on the 3rd consecutive day of the week. Market's killing us. All the expertise, all the efforts are proving to be worthless! RING!! Mr. Kanth's calling.. His portfolio's down by 30%. He might as well kill me!
"Good morning Mr. Kanth!"
"What's so good about this Wednesday? I've lost so much because of you idiots! You sold me shit" Kanth's shouting on the line. Several colleagues turn around and are looking at me with the sympathy that I expect only to be given to some looser.. I don't need it! I'm such a talented sales guy, I've won the award for the salesman of the year for last 2 years haven't I?
"Cool down Mr. Kanth I'm in the process of recovering your money. You know all about this economic slowdown. Idle funds are useless. Cool down, I promise that by end of this week your portfolio will be showing at least 10% profit" Oh whom am I kidding?
"I don't know and don't care about the profit. Recover all my money and give it back to me! Enough with this nonsense! I'm pulling all my investments out of your company!"
"Calm down sir, I'll handle this"
"You better!" I hear the phone slammed down at the other end.
It's the Friday today. Kanth's still 20% down. Scenario's hopeless. Reason of slowdown is useless and I know this because it resulted into so much profit for the rival team. And I'm sitting in the negative. Bass calls and gives me the ultimatum... and it works wonders! No, I'm not making profits suddenly.. I'm helpless on that front. Still, it reminds of a highly useful quality one should have in the times of crisis. Just then Mr. Kanth calls. Yeah, yeah.. he wants profit!
"So any development?" He asks
With utter indifference I answer, "No"
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My hands are trembling. Oh damn them.. Why now? That's never happened since that first surgery I did back in 1980! Then why's it happening today? That too when it's the question of life and death of my Son? I continue with the surgery. But the thoughts continue streaming.. 'Am I wrong in trying to prove them wrong? I can't support them for their popular belief that 'A doctor must not operate on his close relatives, specially the blood ones' ?
It's been an hour into the operation. My thoughts resume to wander.. But my hands, good, skilled hands! My hands begin proving their worth. "Iceman" that's how they knew me back in Med-school. Steady hands, steady as a rock!
More thoughts, 'My son, my dear one, his childhood, our outings together, his college days, his Graduation party, then this tumor, the way our world suddenly turned upside down!' ... No. No-no, I can't afford to have such depressing thoughts even for a second! "Focus, Focus.. Come on FOCUS!" I tell my mind.. and it shuts all the other activities. Swiftly, I complete the operation.
I remove the surgical gloves, wipe off the sweat. Walking back to the chair I start smiling as I'm happy; I've succeeded. There's an impatient knock on the door, my dad's walking in. It's sad that as a practice I cannot disclose the good news until the reports confirm it, still some time for that.
With his old, yet sharp eyes he's looking directly into my eyes.
"So any development?" He asks
Happily, I answer, "No"
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It's dark. And so cold. Still a few hours for the sunrise. It's been a while since all the fuel in the station finished, some 45 minutes?! Slowly it'll become difficult for all of us to take a breath. And then, we will choke to death. Cylinders attached to our Spacesuits are badly damaged due to the unexpected meteor shower. If something stops or obstructs us from reaching the horizon in time and be in the sunlight, we will be left with no alternative.
Diana's continuously trying to contact Houston again, hoping for some miraculous connection. No luck. The radio's also damaged a bit. We still can't contact them from behind the Mars. It's so much similar to the Apollo 13 disaster back in 1970...
Richard's an optimistic fella. He's calmly observing Phobos, taking it's snaps. Everyone is moving slowly, trying to conserve maximum energy and consume minimum Oxygen.
The time passes quickly, Sun's rising... I begin working on the systems. There are a few complications. It'll surely take a while to cure the damages. Minutes pass, it's getting harder to breath by every passing second. I'm getting tensed. That tension and the rising temperature are making my hands slippery. I hear a cough, Richard's moved away from camera and is looking at me.
"So any development?" He asks
I irritatedly answer, "No"
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I finish setting up the bomb. Blessings of Allah be with us! It's him and our great religion we are doing this for. Soon, I'll be united with my forefathers up there, in the heaven. I'll be dining with the Allah himself. Yes, Maulavi-sa has been preparing us well for it, and though my brothers failed in completing their tasks, I WILL DO IT! After all, we are doing 'his' work. The Kafirs shall soon be doomed. Insh-allah!
I take a turn at the next corner and stop. I sense something going wrong. Instead of turning around I choose just looking over my shoulder. Ya-allah! A bunch of kids are running towards the back-side of the Masjid to fetch their Kite. That's where I just set the bomb!
I start sweating, if I go there I might die with them... But if I don't stop them, Allah surely won't forgive me for doing the deeds. Without further thinking I start run towards them, shouting with an unknown rage on the way. Those few seconds seem like an hour! That short distance seems like a Mile!
The kids get scared and run away. Reaching the spot I stop.. Allah knows what's going in my ming.. Without thinking I get down and pick-up the device. Seriously, I don't know why I'm doing that. Quietly, I turn back and hiding the ticking bomb under my Pathani kurta, start walking towards the Madarasa. 24-23-22-21... Reaching the Madarasa I knock on the door. 15-14-13-12... Opening the door, Maulavi-sa pulls me in hastily, he's looking at me with an impatient look on his face. 9-8-7-6...
"So any development?" He asks
I peacefully answer, "No"
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7 stories - 7 individuals - Difference of attitude
Cool... nice concept...
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