Plethora of freedom – Chapter 3

Please read the previous chapter here

Name of Author 3 : Arjun Charles

Note on Author 3 : I put letters, words and sentences to satisfy personal ego and glorify recent experiences.

Please read his blog here

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Chapter 3

Garden of thorns

“Fucker’s finally opening his eyes.”

The pain had mutated and travelled from the back of his head to his right thigh. Eyes spinning and flickering, he could make out the hilt of a knife – the sharp edge of which was sticking in the thigh. He looked around. He was sitting on a wooden chair, his hands tied in front with rope. He was in a tarpaulin tent. He was naked except for his loincloth. He turned towards the source of the abuse.

“By the beautiful Hibiscus on my eyepatch! The great Ox seems to be in a spot right now!”

He recognized that voice. Squeaky and loud. Like a chick being put through a grain mill, but only a teeny bit tougher. But all this had nothing to do with him being called the Spider.

“I never understood your name. Ox. Ox – as in the great Ox who helped plough our lands once? Or Ox – after the vizier and governor of Egypt?”

Silence.

“Now now, if you’re an Ox, I’m the Spider. And a poisonous spider’s bite can stun a fucking fat Ox. So, be a cutie, and tell me why your name is Ox!” And he twisted and pushed the knife deeper.

Searing Pain. And a succumbed scream. And a gravelly voice grinding out from clenched teeth.

“It’s…not…Ox…It’s 0x. 0x45…”

“And…?”

“0x45…Hexadecimal notation for the decimal 69…”

“And…?”

“Tried 68 times…to find an alternative for my given name…Didn’t like my primitive given name…And decided on 0x45 finally…Over time, came to be known as 0x…and finally Ox…”

“Oh my Ox, you a brainy one. I’ll stick to Ox. You’re too knowledgeable for me. Too intense.”

He could finally open his eyes fully. His tormentor stood before him. Wearing a red tunic that extended till his ankles. An eyepatch with a drawing of a hibiscus over it. Auburn hair. A scar over across his nose. Whenever he breathed, it looked like air expunged through that scar. “Ugly bastard”, Ox thought to himself.

“I am a simple man, Ox. Her Highness orders, I execute. And in this case, She has requested that I direct all my attention to you. So, either you tell me where your goddamn sister is, or you face the Hibiscus’ wrath.”

“Hibiscus?” A sly smile escaped his lips.

“Her Highness’ royal emblem, you fucktard! And don’t make me show what that knife in your thigh can do, once it’s right up in your eye socket. Fucking insolence.”

Ox closed his eyes. He tried not to think of water. And drowning. Deep inside, he knew what he had done.

As Sara dropped the note onto her cell floor, she heard thunder. Or was it thunder? She was not sure. The lone cell block suddenly, started to feel damp. The smell brought back the haunting memories, the convulsed screams, the blinding darkness, the familiar pain. She hugged herself. “Drown.” “Drown.” “Drown…Drow…Dro…”

The walls cracked. “He really meant what he wrote”, she thought.

So many experiments. So many calculations. He was really determined. However, he had failed to notice that essential flaw in his plan.

Butterflies can’t swim.


“Can you swim, Ox?”

“Why?”

“You see that lake there? We usually toss our prisoners alive into that thing. Bound and gagged. Would love to see how you would whimper around that.”

Ox looked up. The squeaky voice was near his ear. Whispering, but firm.

“I know that you freed your sister by flooding the cells. And I know that you’ll live if you tell me where she is right now.”

Ox looked at his thigh. To his right was a table. And on the table, was the glass bottle using which he had initiated his final plan. Near the rim of the bottle, were the initials “S.A.” in brown dye. He looked around. Spider was his only company.

“Like a Butterfly caught in a Spider’s web, alone. Tell me Spider, aren’t you interested in the name of my sister?”

“Why would I?”

“Sara. Didn’t think it was peculiar?”

“Uh…”

“Didn’t think there was more to it?”

“Uh…”

“And why didn’t you ask me about the bottle?”

“Which bottle?”

Before Spider could understand the weight of Ox’s questions, Ox grabbed the bottle with his tied hands. In one swift motion, he brought it right to Spider’s head. As the glass broke, Ox shiv-ed the bottle right into Spider’s eyepatch.

“YOU FUCKER!” the Spider howled as he clutched his blind eye. “GUARDS!”

Ox used the broken bottle to cut himself free. He ran towards the exit of the tent. The guards had just heard the Spider’s wail. Ox turned and ran to the back of the tent. He climbed atop a truck containing oil barrels and hid himself amongst them. He could still hear the Spider’s voice.

“Find him, you worthless fools! Find him!”

As his mind raced furiously over the consequence of his actions, he chanced upon the lake.

Butterflies can’t swim, but oxen can.

Flooded cells and frantic swimming. Sara wasn’t ready for this, but she had to do it. Fighting the water, fighting the dark thoughts and fighting the experiments that her brother had performed on her. As she struggled through the icy currents, she felt her arms and limbs weigh her down. “No, not now!”, she feared. Trying to reach the surface, Her vision slowly became unclouded as she saw sunlight above. She heaved and ascended.

As her head popped over the surface of the water, she gave in. She gave in to the experiments that her brother had performed on her. She transformed, slowly. Her limbs were brown wings, her body thinned and shrivelled. Her eyes compounded. The water slowly shook itself off her. She took flight. But not for long.

A bottle containing the initials “S.A.” enveloped her. The lid popped tight, and a weary pair of eyes gazed at her.
S.A. Sara Alexandra. Alexandra Birdwing. The Butterfly.

Holding the bottle, Ox was succinct in his thoughts. “The Spider and the Hibiscus won’t know what hit ‘em.”

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The next author to be nominated soon.

 

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Trepidation – Chapter 2

Please read the previous chapter here

Name of Author 2 : Sadagopan Govindan

Note on Author 2 : A serial procrastinator. Self inspired writer with a cold feet. Avid reader and no-themed blogger.

Please read his blog here

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Chapter 2

 

It was pitch dark. It felt like the deepest trench of nothingness. I was able to sense the dry air, brushing my skin. I couldn’t feel any part of my body. Head was too heavy as if my skull was opened and my brain was replaced with a 12-pound bowling ball. The smell of the dirt mixed with blood began to hit my nostrils. A sudden patch of coldness greeted my dry lips. I slowly opened my eyes with some difficulty. There she was staring at me holding a shiny katana sword in her hand. I was lying there on the ground helpless, unable to move, looking at Angelica moving towards me with a swag of a predator. I could literally hear my heart beat faster. That was the only sound in that place which looked like deserted ruins of some ancient building. She raised her sword angling it towards my heart. I closed my eyes ready to die without having any clue about who she was or why I was there. Was she an outcome of one of my past karmas? I felt the cold steel contact my chest and in a quick movement it ripped my shirt off. My lungs heaved heavily, I opened my eyes unable to comprehend what just happened. She was staring into my eyes with a devilish smile and moved away from me. I could feel my eyelids becoming heavy again and I started falling into the deep trench again.

“Alec! Alec Manser! Open your bloody eyes. We have no time”. Her high-pitched voice jolted me up.

“What’s happening here? Who are you? How do you know me? What did you do to me in the machinery? Why haven’t you killed me yet? Do you care to fill me in?”

“We are racing against time. Time is our worst enemy now. We need to keep going. I will explain when the time comes. Finish this porridge quickly. We will have a visitor soon”

I was annoyed.

“Who is coming? What is going on? Where are we?”

“Alec! Ask all you want. All I know is this. We are in a restricted area of an ancient library, 10 feet underground. My job was to bring you here and wait for further orders. We are to meet a member of our group who will provide further instructions. “

“A group of what? Some Illuminati? Conspirators? Who the hell are you people?”

“Can you quit asking questions for a while? I should not have woken you up. Should have let you rot in the machinery”

Suddenly she heard some noise and signalled me to keep quiet. She was looking around the place where the noise came from. The room was filled with columns of books. A figure in a dark cloak whizzed past the column behind her. She signalled me to remain silent and started moving slowly towards the direction. The room echoed with a quick snapping sound followed by a sharp moan from Angelica. She turned around holding her throat. Her eyes were wide open and were clearly in pain. She slowly moved her hands and started stumbling towards me. I could see a sharp arrow-like object pierced through her throat. Blood was gushing out. I was in shock and my wits failed me. Angelica dropped down and I quickly moved towards her and held her on my lap. She was desperately trying to say something. I lifted her gently towards me and brought my ears near her mouth.

“O3. Oath of the messenger. Secret Passage. Run. They need your help“. She gasped for air. Too much blood has been lost.

“I do not understand. I need to take you to the hospital quickly”

“No use. Run. Run!”

Unable to fathom what is happening around me, I was completely blank. It was clear that my life was in danger. Was Angelica good or evil? Only time will tell.

I heard more footsteps approaching from the other side of the library. As I started moving, reluctant to leave Angelica behind, she grabbed my arms. She touched my tattoo on my chest and murmured, “Bald Eagle”. She gasped one final time before her breath stopped.

“So much for Satan’s daughter”, I thought. I didn’t know her but I felt sorry.

I quickly came to my senses. The footsteps were approaching closer. I recollected what Angelica whispered

“O3. Oath of the messenger. Secret Passage. Run. They need your help”

It didn’t make any sense. Where should I run? What is O3? Where is the secret passage? I was frustrated. I needed to get out of that place first or I would suffer the same fate as Angelica. I took her katana, kept low and started moving swiftly hiding behind the columns of books. There were at least 20 large people covered in dark cloaks with various weapons in hand. I was sure I am going to be dead that day. I didn’t realize that one of them was standing behind me. He raised an alarm and the others started moving towards where we were. I quickly slashed his throat and disappeared into the darkness. My training from the mafia days helped now. They were everywhere and three people were guarding the exits.  I leaned my back against the wall and looked up cursing my fate. That’s when I saw the sign.

“O3”

O3 was a column of books.

“The secret passage should be somewhere here.” I pushed through all the doors in that column but couldn’t find any break. Then it struck me. Oath of the messengers could be a book. I desperately looked for the book hoping that I was correct. I was. I found the book. I lifted the book out of the shelf and a narrow door opened between the columns.

“Bloody darn lucky” I quickly squeezed into the passage and the door closed. I was relieved and happy to be alive. Not for long. I felt a heavy blow on the back of my neck and I started blacking out.

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Next author to be nominated soon.

Trepidation – Chapter 1

Name of Author 1 : Subhashree Srinivasan

Note on Author 1 : Pessimist creative writer who wants to do more, but is completely lazy. Is drawn to bit of sentiments and more of vegetarian food.

Please read her blog here

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Chapter 1

Her skin was perfect. It was mild, soft and glazed all over in sweat. It wasn’t too much or less, the smell was turbid of sweet and salt. Her hung head over on her left hand like she was asleep peacefully, except she wasn’t. I moved closer to her face where I could feel her breathe. It was rhythmic like music and slow. Slow was unusual for someone in this situation, but she wasn’t aware. I touched her and the fingertip poked in a small depression on the chin but, she didn’t stir. I held her face upright to take a better look.

My heavy boots cracked under my weight and I stopped the movement. I hated the noise that sprung out of nowhere from things that were insignificant. Her mouth was gagged with a cloth to ensure the same. She was insignificant. She was my victim, my love animal and a pleasure for my tool. She was brought from the street where my men smoked weed and did things that even the walls surrounded never spoke of. She had walked to them into their den, like a hungry deer would do for grass. They said she had called out my name in all its glory of the city, and the men had promised to take her to me. The deep blue scars on her arms indicated the journey to him would have been rough and she was used. But to me, she still looked beautiful.

I let go of her face and she slid back to her old position. I got up from the kneeling position and pulled my pants up.

‘They didn’t need to be there in some time’. I smiled at my thoughts and turned to the far end of the machine. I had trapped my victim in one of the abandoned warehouses of 100 years old. When my men had found this place nearly a year ago, it was hidden in trees and tall golden dry grass. They had cut through a path and made a way into the warehouse. They have since used this place to play around with humans and toys. There were some machinery of solid iron still left behind in this old place, which was unexplored and unused. I had placed all my drinks on one end of the machinery which was near this beautiful girl.

I pulled a bottle of alcohol and sipped straight from it. The taste of alcohol hit my nose before it could travel through my throat. I flinched, but in pleasure of the warm taste that moved down the throat. I needed something to warm me up, as well make me intoxicated for the things I was going to perform on the woman once she was awake.

I turned the bottle upside down to take another sip, when I heard a soft murmur. It was as melodious as a waves of an ocean. I cut the trip to the second sip, and looked at her. Her eye balls moved rapidly under the eyelids as she moaned.  I hastened my steps towards her, bent on my knees and placed my hands on her shoulder. Her body was cold, and rigid. I tilted face on one side and searched her heart beats; they existed. Her eyes fluttered and opened slowly adjusting to the dim light around her.

Her eyes were grey, including the center which would have been black for most people. It was the colour of wolves that were shown in movies. But this feature didn’t bring down her beauty; it only enhanced it. She looked straight at me without blinking her eyes.

I have been in the business of human trafficking for 22 years, and nothing had even caused a wince on my face. But her casual unfazed stare did. She parted a lips a bit where I could hear a soft sound of her lips, but spoke nothing as she was still studying me.

‘Maybe she is still getting adjusted to the enviroment’.

I waited patiently with one of my hands over her arms and other holding the glass of alcohol. It was very strange that she wasn’t showing any kind of fear, even after few minutes. She frowned in a manner that someone would be asking a question. I removed the gag from her mouth, and within moments she spoke in a thin shrill voice.

“Are you Alec Manser?”

I was mildly surprised hearing my original name, as everyone called me Rogue. I didn’t answer her immediately. I believe she would speak more than just asking me to affirm my name. And this wasn’t even the question she should be asking when her hands and legs were tied to the iron machineries. But he waited patiently, with no signs of fear. And this instilled some kind of strange fear in me.

“Who are you?”

“I am Angelica. Daughter of Satan himself”

Now, I smiled. So, her father was some psycho dude who called himself the Satan and she was proud to be his daughter. Unfortunately for both of them, he had held his daughter captive in an old warehouse.

“Please don’t touch me.”

I smiled again. She was definitely playing the badass here.

“Doesn’t your father like it when I touch you?” I asked rubbing my hands on her thighs.

She didn’t even protest.

“He doesn’t hate it. He conquered humans with power of lust”, she hissed back.

I was quite enjoying this myself.

“So, he must be fine with whatever I am going to do with you. Would he come for you?”

“No, he wouldn’t. I don’t think I need him. You haven’t answered my question. Are you Alec Manser?”

I was slightly perturbed with her audacity.

“Yes, I am. What do you…”

“Shall I sing you a song?” she asked looking straight into my eyes and soul.

It was only a split second before I could comprehend the question, when I heard a jarring loud sound that came out of her mouth.

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I nominate Sadagopan Govindan to write the next chapter. Thank you for accepting 🙂 All the very best!

Please read the next chapter here

Race against immortality – Chapter 1

Name of Author 1 : Subhashree Srinivasan

Note on Author 1 : Pessimist creative writer who wants to do more, but is completely lazy. Is drawn to bit of sentiments and more of vegetarian food.

Please read her blog here

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Chapter 1

Standing at 7 feet, he may be the average height among men and women in Quantum speed express, but he definitely was the oldest. Vidyush Vibhan was returning from his 145th birthday celebration with friends and family who were closer to his age, drinking away in glory and not worried about any kind of consequences. He stood in a vehicle which had ceilings much higher than his height, and few people in the vehicle were almost at the ceiling.

“Kids these days grow faster, but dumber”

No human being in the vehicle made any noise, while they worked on their virtual machines. The vehicle in itself didn’t make a sound as it moved faster than what human eyes could comprehend. This irked Vidyush to an extent. He reminisced the days of his childhood which had vehicles on roads that made noise. In those days, the cities were bustling with activity and the air had oxygen. He remembered the stories from his grandmother about music and movie theatres which were available in 2020, the year he was born. All the images of the musicians hung in the museums of history.

“Our planet had become a strange place”

The Earth was covered with more human beings than trees, more machines than schools, more technology than clean natural source of water. Everyone was living alone in their coffin homes, carrying on with their monotonous lives but pushing forward a fake online interactions with lives of others.

Vidyush lost his parents in a war that had occurred exactly 74 years ago, wiping out most of the human race as much as it did with the naturally occurring landscapes and resources. After the war, man had built weapons faster than anything else. The weapons for the biological warfare was the improvement of medical systems to greater extents – the genetics, the clones and the robots which performed the operations.

Vidyush noticed that his shoe lace was untied. It would have only taken him a click of a button on his smartchip to tie them back together, but he didn’t use the option. Instead, he bent down straight and began to tie the lace. The man next to him, shifted noiselessly to other side to allow him to continue his activity. All the artificial organs in his body began to crunch. He let out a sigh carefully, making sure that he wasn’t adding any kind of noise to the surrounding. Almost all of his organs were replaced by machines.

He stayed seated over his knees for a moment when he noticed that the oxygen indicator of the vehicle read 92%. The vehicle had the capability to synthesize oxygen from the carbon dioxide let out from the human beings. In fact, all the streets, shops, malls were installed with such equipment.

There was much lesser oxygen levels in the air than it was few years ago, but it didn’t kill men. The science was very advanced than it had made men, immortal. The emergency alerts were upped, organs were made artificial and cure for every disease came as breakthrough faster than it could spread. As the diseases and pain increased, the part of the human body which caused it was replaced with a machine that could function just as the natural part. And the machines could never die.

Vidyush was a celebrated war hero. As much as he liked all the fame that it had brought him in his younger days, he despised the fact that he was very alone now. His family were long gone during the war, his friends moved apart with the love of their lives and he was only needed in case of emergencies by his officials. He was condemned fit to work even now, as a medical Run officer whose task was to get closer to victims who were attacked by any man made weapons. He was also one of the reasons why men never died.

During the protocol stages of the Medical Run initiation, Vidyush had tried to kill himself many times. But, each time he did so, the science overtook him by bringing the help closer and faster. He was worked upon by robots which performed operations at a 100% accuracy rate reducing all risks of him dying. And Vidyush hated this.

He considered himself to be another man made machine. He was not interested in living more than it was needed. But, his officials always ensured that he stayed alive as he was one of the most efficient officers. How much ever tried, Vidyush always worked to help his fellow human beings in state of crisis; this quality of him was most sorted after. Even though he was saving many lives, he himself felt lifeless and tortured with too much time that he had.

But, with the science being so complicated, and machines working so reliable, diseases having cures, how was man ever going to become mortal again?

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I nominate Niranjana Das for the next chapter. Thank you for accepting and all the very best 🙂

Judgement – Chapter 3

Please read the previous chapter here

Author name: Kavita Yajnik

Note on the author: A blogger and an avid theatre enthusiast who spends her days in marketing different products. A foodie, and a fan of the traditional Garba dance form, she loves to leave people laughing their heads off with her mimicry skills.

Please find her blog here

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Chapter 3

Ghosts of the Past

“The past is never where you think you left it”, read a frame in that sultry basement of Mwalisso22-a bitter reminder to the unfortunate inmates who were left there waiting to die, a bitter reminder of their horrendous crimes that had brought them there, a bitter reminder to Kwon and his colleagues for their perceived incompetence.

With number plates hung around their neck, the prisoners boarded the cramped truck that would take them to aircraft to Risok Labs for the second round of testing. As Kwon called out the names, one after another, his heart skipped a beat. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and as he paced up and down that corridor. For the first time in his 10 years at Mwalisso22, Kwon seemed visibly anxious. “There must be a mistake”, he frantically yelled at his supervisor. “Our orders are clear”, replied an unperturbed voice on the other side of the line. In bold letters read the last name on that list in his hand: ‘200. KWON THELMES’.

It was a dark, stormy night when a young, 10 year old Rusk Thelmes sat by the window waiting for his father to return. He didn’t return that night, neither the next, or the night after. The police claimed it to be an accident-a laboratory casualty during an experiment that he was performing. But Rusk knew there was something darker to that incident than just a fatality. He knew his Uncle Kwon was involved. Kwon had learnt of a trade secret that Rusk’s father was working on and had threatened to leak it unless he received a princely amount in exchange.
Rusk knew his father was exasperated by the increasing threats to him and his family from Kwon and his clan. He suspected this was more than just an accident. He smelt murder. But who would listen to a 10 year old’s accusations? Who would pay heed to investigate into such a well crafted murderer who didn’t leave any trace behind? The chapter of tragedy had not yet ended for little Rusk. Unable to tolerate the humiliations from the society and the increasing threats from Kwon, Rusk’s mother ended her life one night leaving the 11 year old in an orphanage. And in that shabby little orphanage began Rusk’s quest for science-to delve deeper into the intricacies of the human brain.

Kwon knew the fate of the ‘guinea pigs’. They were all killed-either by the prolonged effect of the drugs which were administered to them, or due to a failed experiment, or were executed by Kwon himself, least they divulge any sensitive information. Kwon knew his fate. What he did not know was that his fate was being decided by his own nephew.  

Back in the claustrophobic Risok Labs, Rusk and Varnia continued their extensive research on the test to be performed on the 200 humans. They studied each case file in detail to understand how their actions in the past could be altered by administering the drug. As Varnia sunk among the large heap of files on the table she couldn’t help but notice Mr. Rusk immersed in the contents of one particular case file. Ms. Varnia was not a person who would jump to conclusions. Her scientific bent of mind and the years of research with Mr. Rusk prevented her from doing so. But intuition told her that Mr. Rusk and Kwon had a history to share. In over 10 years of her research with Mr. Rusk, she had never seen him as much involved in the case file of one particular patient. As engrossed as she was in her own world of scientific discovery, Varnia could not be easily deceived. In the past she had been a part of several works of Mr. Rusk Thelmes, some scandalous, others revolutionary; but she knew that none of those works were as sinister or as breakthrough as this drug. She was well aware of the implications of this drug as well as the accolades that this invention would bring. As much as she respected Mr. Thelmes as her mentor, she knew that he would leave no stone turned to be recognized as the most powerful and respectable individual in the world of science. And as much as she knew that Mr. Thelmes needed her assistance to make this experiment a success, she also knew that once the experiment succeeded, Thelmes would not think twice to get her out of his way-least she revealed a patented secret or claimed a share of his success. She knew she was an important asset to Rusk Thelmes, but not indispensable.

As he flung the file aside, Mr. Rusk Thelmes had a flood of emotions bottling up within him. All his dreams and aspirations would now come true. From being an underrated scientist, it was not too long before he would become the most powerful scientist that the world had in years; and his invention, the most formidable invention in centuries. A drug that would alter how humans make moral judgments, a panacea to prevent every immoral action – a drug that would prevent a person from committing suicide, that could enable an alcoholic to quit drinking, a drug that would have helped his mother stay alive a little longer, that could have prevented Uncle Kwon from killing Rusk’s father, a drug that could prevent any heinous crime and at the same time inflict enough mental trauma on a criminal so as to wipe out every criminal that existed in this world; a drug that would make this world a better place to live in.

But who decides the difference between right and wrong, moral and immoral? Who decides the ‘greater common good’? Is homicide, with the intention to make the world a better place, a righteous act? Can an act which is justifiable for one man not be immoral to another? Can one man be omnipotent? Is he above the realms of law and justice? Did Rusk Thelmes have the power to distinguish the right from the wrong?

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Next author would be Vikas Singh . Thank you for accepting 🙂 Wish you all the very best.

Upheaval – Chapter 1

Name of Author 1 : Subhashree Srinivasan

Note on Author 1 : Pessimist creative writer who wants to do more, but is completely lazy. Is drawn to bit of sentiments and more of vegetarian food.

Please read her blog here

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Chapter 1

Brindavan Colony

It was one of those afternoons that Mr. Seshadri dreaded and anticipated for, at the same time. The weather was cloudy, filled with water in the air as much as it dripped all over his own skin. He stooped to bend a little, with hands on his hip, bulging out his fat tummy and concentrated on his breathe. He could hear some giggles behind him on the ruined charcoal coloured staircase, but didn’t have the strength to turn back. Still focusing on his heavy breathing, he pulled a white handkerchief which emancipated rose powder all over him as he shook it. Not willing to dust the rose powder off his clothes, he wiped his flushing face with it. Mentally preparing himself with a determination of a bull, he thrusted his body forward and began to climb the rest of the stairs of Brindavan building.

As Mr. Seshadri reached the fourth floor of the building, he cursed himself for the countless number of samosas that he had consumed in the early morning. When he was in the middle of his seventh samosa carefully dipped into the sweet chutney, that he received a call from dear friend Police officer, Venkat. Not wanting the samosa to turn cold before he put down his phone, he gobbled the entire second half into his mouth and picked his mobile phone.

“Errr…llloooo”

“May I know who this is? I thought I called my friend Seshadri, but seems like I called a wrong number”

Venkat proceeded to click some buttons on the other side.

“But, this is his number. Who is this? Where is my friend? Is this Bittu. Bittuuuu…dont play a prank now. I want to talk to Seshadri…”

Mr. Seshadri completed the samosa that he had stuffed in his mouth before Venkat could complete his sentence.

“Aiyooo…it is me. What happened now? “, Seshadri enquired his friend.

“Oh, it is you. I thought I dialed a wrong number. I just wanted you to come to Brindavan colony in the far east of my street. There has been a murder reported. I need your help in this case”, yelled Venkat over the phone as if Seshadri was presumed deaf.

Mr. Seshadri began to scowl as he licked the chutney off his fingers. He was a self-proclaimed detective, still a fancy word in India, who had helped the police solve some cases. Most of his cases were solved not because of his observant skills, but him being a retired renowned lawyer. He had always found loopholes in the system, and was able to read the mind of the criminals. But this time, he seemed uninterested.

“If you want someone to help with a murder, ask Chaturvedi like you did last time. Don’t come to me for cases like this.” he accused his friend over the phone.

“But, you are now detective no? This is work for detective. Please come fast”, Venkat gave the ultimatum to Seshadri and put down the phone not waiting for a response.

As large as Seshadri was, his ego wasn’t. He washed his hand, cleaned his mouth with ample of water and started immediately to the location of the murder.

There were many children trying to peep into one particular house when he arrived on the fourth floor. The bad news reaches fast than good in any country; India was no exception. He shooed away the children, smiled at the colorful saree clad women and walked towards the door.

“Venkaaaaattt…are you there?” he called out from outside the door.

A thin tall figure scurried through the corridor of the bedroom to receive his friend.

“It…looks…bad…bad…very…bad”, Venkat murmured.

Mr. Seshadri was very surprised at the tone with which Venkat received him at the door. Together, they had seen unfathomable murders that were gruesome and in ways that could be never imagined. Even with the body so fragile, Venkat always had the strength to sleep at night after seeing all the dead bodies over the day.

“Oh Venkat, this is unusual. Why are you whimpering now? Nothing can be more surprising for us now. Do you remember seeing the head separated from body last time in Dwala Street? What can be bad after that?” Seshadri comforted his friend as they moved towards the store room of the house.

Venkat didn’t reply back to any of those words, but stopped suddenly, that Seshadri assumed that the body was somewhere closer to them now. The room was lit with a single suspended light bulb that flickered as it swung. Mr. Seshadri focused his eyes in the darkness to get a look at the body.

If someone looked at this scene first, they would have assumed that a beautiful young lady with a red dress was sleeping across the floor on a red mat. It would have seen as simple as that. But the scenario would have changed as soon as one noticed that the red mat was her own blood merging from all directions. Blood in a crime scene wasn’t any surprising for the investigating duo. But, the way the blood was oozing of the body like a sprinkler that attached in the garden seemed very frightening. The victim’s flesh was torn at places of her body – hands and legs. The blood from these parts spread all over the victim and covered her in crimson red. She seemed like the little red riding hood with the colour of the skin as well.

Venkat and Seshadri stood there for minutes, not saying a word to each other or doing anything. They have seen murders and blood before, gorier than what they were witnessing. What lay in front of them wasn’t the most horrendous thing they have ever seen, but the most mysterious.

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I nominate Munmun Singh Nagpal, who has already published her first book , to write the second chapter. Thank you, Munmun. Feeling very happy about this 🙂

Also, for people who read this part, you can also check Munmun’s book ‘Looped’ in Amazon and order yourself a copy. I guarantee that it is worth it 🙂

Looped on Amazon

Crack a boot – Chapter 1

Author 1 : Swaran Michael

Note about author 1 : A voracious reader. Writing has always been my passion. Proud holder of a certificate in technical writing and quite a blogger myself.

Swaran’s Personal blog : www.languagehype.com

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Chapter 1

Years back, a philosopher,  enlightened by a spiritual guru decided to go on an unending journey to meet people at large . On a fine morning, he put on his old & rugged chappals and walked out of his sober hut. The philosopher travelled long distances and spoke to many whom he came across. On his way people recognized the philosopher by his bearded face and his intellectual probing eyes. Some went by staring at him and some greeted him. Once twilight sets in indicating time for day end, he told  the village men that he would be staying in their town for a week . People who heard his wisdom were happy to take him home. Many said that he was a boon to this deserted town and his coming would bring in good fortunes through the wisdom he carried.

 

On the second day, the philosopher  asked the residents to gather for his lecture on Developmental aspects of  Science and Society. Everybody gathered near a temple to listen to his speech. He started his lecture with a quote “Everyone born on this earth is equal”. The statement energized the public. They listened to the speech with interest and they took this opportunity to learn more about development of science and society. The philosopher told them science and society is interlinked.  Science is a material to develop a society with all amenities.  Society is an instrument in the hands of science. The world grows with inventions and innovations. Rajesh, a person from the crowd shot a question to the philosopher, why the world is behind science? The philosopher answered: science is the pillar for any development as we know, man wants something new every day.  Science has taken a huge turn in the recent times.

 

From the past to present science exists in various forms. Science was used to develop in the past but now in the name of science we are spoiling our livelihood. Technology has overtaken abilities in a sense we have started using science for destroying our own nature. As technologies improve we should grow as nation but in turn spoiled our growth. The philosopher took a break for lunch. Uh! Seeing the people hurrying for lunch he  was shocked. He became speechless. After the break, he commenced the session two for day. Everybody was sleepy,  yawning and least interested in the lecture. The philosopher tried to make the session as interesting as possible but he was unsuccessful in his attempts. It was dusk by then. Before returning home for rest, Jacklin, a youngster approached the philosopher greeted the wisdom giver and told him the lecture at the noon was a splendid insight. The philosopher was delighted and and thanked the young girl with a warm smile.

 

The next day, he started the session with a game. All age groups participated in the activity with enthusiasm. The game prolonged for 15 minutes. As they were enthusiastically involved in the game, he called all the people back for the session. People were full of energy and involved themselves in the session. Now, the philosopher commenced the session at ease. He told that Science is the backbone of the society.  There are many dimensions in science for the society to develop. As he was giving his lecture people shot many questions from the crowd. He was astonished to see people involved in his session. The day went on with lots of discussion on Science – An instrument for growth. Debates were conducted. The argument heated up. Finally at the end of the day he told science is a model for growth.

 

The dawn of the fourth day was even more energetic. The philosopher discussed on the aspects of scientific development and aspects of technological advancement in society. He told that science is virtual and can be destroyed at any time, but  nature is to be protected. We have started misusing the power of science. With the help of technology arms are manufactured and terrorists groups make use of the advancement. As they do we also use artificial pesticides for ripening and also use hazardous technologies and we become a reason for climate change.

 

Vimal, a person from the group asked: How can the problem of scientific development improvised? The philosopher applauded for the question and told it  is not simple but possible. He paused and told we are getting secluded from the world. People did not utter a word in return. They started to ponder what should be done.

 

At the rise of the fifth day, it was time for the philosopher to leave the town. When he stepped out of the town, he turned and asked the people what are you planning to do for enriching scientific development in society and safeguarding the nature?About 25 youngsters participated in the lecture  along with Jacklin and they shouted in chorus, society has given us a lot but we have not given back to the society, they  told him they would ensure scientific development for the betterment of the society and not for destroying the mankind and the nature. They also told him they would harbor the good news in the minds of youngsters and spread it around. The philosopher was happy with the response he received and went to the next place to spread the good news.

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 I nominate Suparna De for the next chapter in another 15 days. All the very best for your write up 🙂