Blackout

Last evening I got off early. And now courtesy wheels, my commute time is barely 5 minutes.

I reached my room, and voila, it was dark.

“No electricity sir, it was not there the whole day!!”  , said the security guard.

Wow this just about does it, back from office and nothing to do. I am sick of coffee days, pizza huts and malls. All were barely a couple of minutes drive away, but I wanted none of it. And I am now sliding down the utility curve of the sight of an idiot box, so there is nothing much to do.

Into my room, and I wanted some music. I switched my laptop on, and it gave a feeble try and blinked off. No battery. My cell phone took inspiration from the Lithium ion in the laptop and blinked off too, so much for smart phones.

I stripped down to my underwear and lay comatose on the bed, opened a bag of ruffles lays extra large and Saint pure grape juice for company. 

“Crunch” and “slurp” sounded loud in the stillness of the surroundings, almost disturbing. I pushed it aside and just lied down, savoring the stillness.

It soon turned very dark, and my abode being a remote place, absence of light was kind of magnified. I struck a match and lit a candle, (I had a box just in case). 

Woohooo the breeze blew eerily outside. The flame flickered, but did not give up. It was like a game between the breeze and the flame, and somehow I was rooting for the flame to win, possibly because it was tangible, and visible.

Staring at the flickering candle flame, I thought,” When was the last time I stuck a candle apart from the purpose of adorning “happy birthday to you cakes”?

The realization hit me. It was during my days at Noida, when blackouts were common and kind of looked forward to. This was the time when you could play hide and seek in the night apart from the stipulated hours and that kind of made it exciting.

No phone…… no songs…….. No sound…….. No food and ……… nobody around.

The winds blowing…… ……… eerily dark surroundings ………….. The slightly damp night…….A railway crossing just about a 100 meters away. 

This was all the stuff horror or let’s says non-love movies were made of. 

However it was not horror I was reminded off, it was Harry Potter.

Almost on cue “ Woohoo” ,  the breeze had turned to a wind intensity. I felt it moving over my lips like it was kissing me.

Dementors …it is the night of the Dementors.

Stop it Rajan, this is the stuff imagination is made off, I reminded myself sternly.

Déjà vu though. I still couldn’t shake the Dementors off me.

Chocolate, yea chocolate is the cure; I had some with me at that instant.

I broke of a piece and slipped on my tongue, it was Bourneveille, rich cocoa.

The piece had become all soggy, and squashed and immediately dissolved. The feel was good, and as a self serving bias, I imagined warmth in my body, mocking the chilly winds, like the flame was mocking it.

“ मुन्नी बदनाम हुई ”, screamed as the room was illuminated , suddenly.

The spell was broken; the Dementors I believe were scared of मुन्नी  ....... but chocolate…well it had its day!!  

It Could Happen to You !

1.       Nighttime ......... location.......... Doddenakudi village, Bangalore

2.       Status – Tired, hungry and penniless (only electronic money available)

3.       Environmental condition/resources at disposal – Balmy weather, just a hint short of chilly, all restaurants closed, even hole in the walls, no transportation excepting 11 number bus(for the uninformed it refers to walking)

It is difficult to sleep on a queasy feeling in your tummy, particularly when you believed you have earned the right to un-quease it. I knew a Domino was somewhere close to the Marathalli bridge and decided to trudge along to it.

In enter...... the dregs of society, the riff raffs and all........gaunt...........skeletal...........bearded and stinking...........alternatively of sweat, and booze.

With the laptop slung across my shoulder and in Friday casuals I was a sure shot picture of a techie, often confused for the financially well endowed.

One glance at the three told me this is going to be ....easy.... !!

I am no Dharmendra, but they were all puny, and under water at various levels.

A shove by the most inebriated. It was hard and I fell down.........heavily on the bag.

Another one aimed his feet at my face but missed. The third however landed one nicely on my back, and it was some pointed shoes this one was wearing so it hurt. Meanwhile the first picked up a stone and was making a swing.

In this mess the laptop bag had split open from the front, which is a very rare thing. A hint of metal caught my eyes from the tumbling baggage and I ....................for a moment froze.

It was my Ram Baan.............my constant companion of the lost years............... it was a Punch.

I had found it tucked away in some remote corner of my cupboard, in Delhi and I had just put it in my bag and promptly ............forgot about it.

I slipped it into my fingers. Its cold feel reminded me of the countless warm liquids that it once used to see. I made an uppercut motion towards one face and stopped midway.

Never use a punch on a face …makes it too messy and too identifiable.

I delivered one with full force on his upper arm; it nicked some of the skin away. The guy howled and started of some kanaada words.

A razor sharp pain course from the back of my leg it was a short knife, like the pen knife , but very pointy, the back of my leg started feeling very warm and I knew the cut was deep.

A brawl, followed as the animal brain took over the rational one. I just forgot about all the pain in my back...........the hunger in my stomach ..............and the tiredness in my body.

A punch in one and the other bare knuckled, I started wild swings. Two of them went down, thanks to two blows at the leg and the arm and one for good luck in their guts.

The third one was slightly nonplussed by this; after all it was sheer numbers, one against three.

I stared at him, with no expression and then motioned him to go away. He hesitated and then walked off, that what the drink does, it shows who you really are, and he was a coward.

The other 2 were whimpering, I picked up my bag, transferred the spilt contents to the center slot of my bag and surveyed the damage.

A deep cut on my lower leg.............. a developing bruise on my back........... and small cut on my butt. Thankfully it was all internal ............no external visible damages.

To eat ………..or to trudge back………… clean and sleep?

The smell of baking cheese reined powerful than the smell of dripping blood. Dusting myself, I cleaned the cuts with some water from my bottle. Twenty minutes later, a vegetable extravaganza inside it was dawning on; the pain was coming back with a vengeance. I needed a drink to numb it, but then I could not touch alcohol.

I walked out, and paid 250 bucks for a 30 minute ride in an auto.

A warm bath, and two Flexons later, I hibernated…….

Come morning I thought about the night.

You are walking towards a hotel hungry and tired and someone kicks you in the shin…could it happen to you??

It could happen to you!