Sunday, August 16, 2009

Buona fortuna - Part 1




I put on my signature black shirt, took the day’s newspaper, the certificates, and the prized letter and set off, for what was to be an eventful day .Or so said the horoscope-“lady luck smiles upon you today, and don’t be surprised if you run straight in to her”. Mysterious, I’d thought, given my recent run-ins with luck weren’t the stuff that dreams were made of, especially so with a certain young lady I’d given my heart to .A little dove fluttered her wings somewhere and once again, that familiar pain ,pain I’d been so much used to that it shouldn’t have hurt at all. In the mirror, I saw a confident young man, not handsome, but definitely not bad-looking, but with the faintest whiff of despair in his eyes. Running late, I thought, better not miss the train, and off I went.




The road near the station was as crowded as ever, and .The throng of people moving to and fro was unsettling enough, and to add on to my woes, there was a steady downpour as well. I started walking down the side walk with my briefcase, and in a moment of impulsive ignorance, a.k.a, utter tomfoolery ,I decided to take another look at the letter, which would have been the foreword of a typical Indian success story, if it wasn’t for the lanky kid in the nirvana t shirt . Wide eyed at the prospective salary, my common sense had taken a backseat, and the kid who was probably in dope tripped me and in a tangle of legs and arms I fell on someone else walking down the road. The object of my attention, the interview letter flew from my arms and before I kissed the ground,I saw a gust of air first lifting it off to the edge of the side walk and then taking it on a one way ride down to the sewers.




Slowly, with all the time of a man whose last chance to redemption just sank in the dirty drains of Calicut, I got up, on my feet. There’s this funny thing about life, just when you think things just cant get any worse, they definitely do. In a wet, angry, dazed state I tend to roar, with tears filling my eyes simultaneously, and the result is a hideous creature, who definitely wouldn’t win “The Indian Gentleman” award. The first thing I did after my crash landing on the pavement was to analyze the scene ahead. Well, nothing different really, people going about on their business, after all what does it matter for them, if a certain Rahul Krishan’s dreams just shattered seconds before, like a streetlamp gutted by crazy urchins? But somehow, my mind was falling it to an abyss, a black hole of negativity, when I first heard that sweet voice behind me, as someone just started playing the violin, to soothe my wretched nerves. ”Are you all right? was that paper something important? I’m so sorry..”


I turned, only to find an angel of a girl standing by the sidewalk, an umbrella in her hand, concern in her eyes. She smiled sweetly at me,and at that instant, I forgot everything that was causing my heart to beat like an overworked rock singers’s drums. As a matter of fact, for what seemed like an eternity, it totally quit working. Important ? paper ? Ofcourse not! ”Well, it was an interview letter, but nothing to fret about .And it definitely wasn’t your fault either, miss”, I managed to mutter, taking in her full beauty. Beautiful would have been an understatement, I thought, with the fair almond shaped face, the brown eyes which were already fiddling with my senses, the rush of hair swaying in the breeze so typical of our beloved kerala monsoon. Pink salwar, and the pink umbrella, perfect with the slight pink of her cheeks, and the wild pink of her lips. On a rainy day, in a dirty street with total chaos, she made people stop and stare, jaws dropping. Probably she gave heart attacks, when the sun was out.” Oh my god, an interview letter. I just ruined everything for you! Is there anything I can do, sir, to make it right? Maybe I can call the company and tell them?” At that instant, a loud siren went off somewhere and through the fence, I saw the train on the first platform begin to rumble along noisily. I watched helplessly, as the train chugged away with my hopes of the dream job.” There it goes. Ah, no matter lady. By the way, the name is Rahul Krishan. And you?” She shifted nervously, “Its ....”

9 comments:

Tempest said...

umm.. Spike my man, why is rahul krishnan the hero of your story? Its good, really descriptive and all that, but the choice of hero still puzzles me.. Anyways.. Keep it up bro

ritu said...

wowww...so nice..keep it up...always keep writing dear...all the best :)

vj said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
candlelight soldier said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
candlelight soldier said...

ahem!!may i know who that is??

vj said...

well sorry!

candlelight soldier said...

why!!!!puh leez..

Aoi Miko said...

Amazing! What struck me more than the twist at the end was the atmosphere! I was completely pulled into that grey half-drizzle... beautiful writing! ^_^

candlelight soldier said...

Aoi Miko: Thanq ,Aoi :)