In-waste-igation

The phone starts ringing.  Someone picks it up  and starts speaking.
"Inspector Vasu here".
"Sir, dead body." says a voice at the other end.
"What? Where? How?" asks an excited Vasu.
"Gundu mama is dead sir." responds the voice.
"Who is Gundu mama?"
"My uncle sir"
"Who are you?"
"Kittu sir."
"Where is the dead body?"
"In the bedroom sir"
"Give me the address you bloody fool"

Inspector Vasu notes down the address, dons his cap and sprints to his jeep.  He passes the address to the driver and instructs him "Go there".  The driver speeds through the city streets and gets to the location within minutes.  There is a crowd gathered outside a house.  Vasu pushes his way through the crowd and enters the house asking for Kittu.  Kittu comes forward and guides the inspector to the dead Gundu mama.  As the name suggests, Gundu mama was a fat man.   His body is lying on the floor besides the bed.  The floor around his neck is splashed with blood.

"He is dead sir" comments Kittu.
Inspector Vasu stares at him but does not answer.  He walks around the body, sitting and looking at the body from different angles.  He picks up the right arm and feels for the pulse.  "He is dead no?" asks Kittu.  "Get out of here" responds Vasu.  He continues to look at the body from different angles.  People watch him through the windows and doors in the room and exchange thoughts and comments.
"Murdered"
"Brutal"
"It could have been suicide"
"No chance, murder"
"His son hated him"
"No it must have been his brother-in-law"
"I saw someone running out of the house last night"
"That inspector will have a tear in his pants"
"Unfriendly guy"
"That fellow Kittu seems fishy"

"Silence" cries out Inspector Vasu "Someone remove these people from here".  He starts looking at other objects in the room.  He takes out his hand kerchief and pick up a bottle of water from a table in the room.  He holds it against the light and stares at it intently.  He puts back the bottle and picks up a book lying on the bed.  He runs through the pages and drops it back on to the bed.  He then gets to the feet of body and attempts to determine the position of the killer.  He then goes back to the door and attempts to enact how the killer would have got into the room.  As he does this, he observes the floor for some clues.  Suddenly, he stops, bends down and picks up a cigarette butt.  He smells it and then checks it.  "Hmmmmm, triple 5" he says.  He then goes back through the draws in the room but does not find what he is looking for.  He calls back Kittu and asks "Which brand of cigarette did this man smoke?".
"He does not smoke" replies Kittu.
"Hmmmm, who visited this man yesterday"
"He was in the city yesterday.  He only came back this morning."
"Mmmmmm hmmmmm, so somebody killed him this morning."
"Who visited him this morning?"
"I don't know.  I only came in now."
"Does anyone else know?"
"The watchman said that a person wearing a green shirt accompanied mama."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know sir."
"Mmmmmm, get the watchman."

The watchman walks into the room and stares at the body.  Inspector Vasu clears his throat and asks "Tell me what happened this morning?"  He does not get any response from the watchman, who continues to stare at the body.  "Dai, what happened this morning?"  No response still; his eyes are on verge of popping out now.  Inspector Vasu taps the watchman on his should and repeats "What happened this morning?"  The watchman gives the inspector a terrified look and faints.  The inspector kicks the wall in frustration and shouts "Take this idiot out of here".

Vasu walks into the hall and sees that the watchman has come back to his senses.  He sits opposite to the watchman and repeats the question.  The watchman says "Sir" tentatively.  He then lets out series of incoherent sounds.  The inspector gets up, walks out of the house, takes in a few breathes of fresh air and walks back into the room.  He gives an inquiring look at the watchman who has regained some control on his senses.  "Sir this morning, sir came back to his house with another man.  I did not see the man leave."
"Was he wearing a green shirt?"
"Yes sir."
"How did he look?"
"He was a tall and big man.  I could not see his face.  He was bald."
"Big man mmmmm."
"Was he carrying anything?"
"He was carrying a brief case."
"Which colour?"
"Brown sir"
"Do you see it here?"
The watchman looks around the room  and says "no sir".
"Go and check the other rooms"
"SIR?" cries the watchman.
"Ok, ok.  I will take care of the room with the body"
The brief case is not found anywhere.  Inspector Vasu calls Kittu over and asks him about this man in the green shirt.  Kittu does not know who it is.  He asks the watch man to describe the man to Kittu.  Kittu thinks for a moment and says that sounds like Prakash mama.
"Who is Prakash mama?"
"Gundu mama had visited him yesterday."
"So this guy must have come back with him, right?"
"I don't know sir."
"Do you have his phone number?"
"No, but we can check Gundu mama's phone book."
The phone book has Prakash mama's number.  Kittu calls up and finds out that Prakash mama had left the previous night with Gundu mama and they did not know his current location.  Kittu asks them to call back once any information about Prakash mama is heard.  He turns to Inspector Vasu and says "Prakash mama has killed Gundu mama", who promptly asks Kittu to shut up.
"Do you have Prakash's photograph?"
"I don't know" replies Kittu.
"Can you describe him?" asks Inspector Vasu.
"Yes"
"Then come by to the station"

The next day, Inspector looks through the details of the case sipping tea.  A constable walks in and says "Prakash and Kittu are here to see you".  Inspector Vasu jumps out of his seat and shouts "Show them in."  The persons enter the room and Inspector Vasu grabs the person with Kittu, who he assumes is Prakash, and shouts "Mr.Prakash, you are under arrest for the murder of ehhhh, errrrrr, Gundu mama".
Prakash cries out "No, no, I did not kill him".
"Ha ha ha, that is what all criminals say but no one escapes the long arms of the law".
"No, no, I did not kill him."
"The law has caught up with you old man.  You are under arrest."
"No, no, I did not kill him."
Kittu jumps in "No, no, Prakash mama did not kill Gundu mama."
"What do you know? I am the inspector here and I have proof that this man Prakash killed the man."
"What proof?" demands Prakash.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I have the right to know."
"Sir" interject Kittu "the watchman is missing".
"What has that got to do with this case?" asks Inspector Vasu.
"Soon after you left, the watch man left with a bag and has not turned up still.  Prakash mama called home and heard about Gundu mama.  So he got in touch with me."
"Yes sir" said Prakash in agreement "Gundu was alive when I left.  Something must have happened after I left"
"Hmmm, so the watch man is missing is it?" asks Inspector Vasu.

Inspector Vasu, Prakash and Kittu reach the murder site and start questioning the people about the watchman.  No one has seen him since the previous day.  They search his small room but does not find anything of interest in the room.  "Where is the brown brief case?" asks Inspector Vasu.  "Which brown brief case?" asks Praskash.  "The one Gundu mama was carrying" says Kittu.  "Gundu did not have any brown briefcase."  responds Prakash lighting a cigarette.  "Mmmmm hmmmm" says Inspector Vasu "let us get that watchman."

Now, Inspector Vasu is in search for the watch man named Mani.  He is average height and wheatish complexion.  He also a mole one of his cheeks (some people say right cheek and others left).  He has a moustache and is not fat.  If you see anyone of this description, mail to vasu@inspectorvasu.com

This is not a love story!

Kapil had to change buses to reach his college.  Within a few weeks of joining the college he had a good idea of the bus timings.  The 20 minute wait at the link road stop was turning out to be the most tiring 20 minutes of his life.  This being the pre-mobile era, there was no possibility of looking down at that object in his palm and be oblivious of everything else around.  Kapil was not into books either and so there was no doorway to the Austinen era England or Rice-an jungles.  He ended up standing under the shade of a tree and play mind numbing games.  How many red cars passed by today?  Can I spot any Mercedes Benz today?  Will Maruti or Ambassador win today's count?  As his mind played these games, many buses passed by but he did not notice any of these.  His eyes were fixed on the cars on the road.  Kapil understood the meaning of the word boredom at that bus stop.  If he went on to become a saint, this 20 minute wait in the morning and evening could be given credit.  But fate had something else in store for him - It never let him move from the state of passivity to patience to penance.  It gave him a fine distraction instead.

One day an altercation between a bus conductor passenger got Kapil's eyes off the road.  His eyes did not fall on the exact scene of commotion but on a beautiful face near the scene.  The pair of eyes on that face were watching him intently.  She took her eyes off him when he looked at her.  Kapil continued to look at her.  After a bit, she stole a glance at him but turned her head away almost itmmediately.  She kept her eyes off him till the bus moved away.  Kapil looked at her for as long as he could.  He then wrote the bus number into his head - A glimmer of light in the dark tunnel.

Kapil was very happy to get back to the bus stop the next evening.  He was no longer interested in the Marutis and Ambassadors on road.  All he cared for was the bus and the girl.  The bus of interest came by 10 minutes later and the girl was seated in the same location as the previous day.  Kapil did not take his eyes off her but she did not turn her head towards him.  The bus moved on leaving a disappointed Kapil . The disappointment continued for the next few days.  He waited for the bus, the bus came by, he stared at the girl, she did not look at him, the conductor blows the whistle and the bus disappears into the traffic bustle with Kapil's eyes on its disappearing form.  This went on for a few days and Kapil's interest on the bus and its beautiful passenger went down.  The intensity of his stare had gone down from "Oh! What a girl" to "mmmmm hmmmmm".

Around that time Kapil visited his friend Govind, where Kapil overheard Govind's sister, Paavani's phone conversation.  He heard her say "O! the link road stop is it?", "How long has this been going?", "How does the guy look?", "Did you talk to him?", "Noooooo, go ahead and talk", "How boring!".  The door opened and Govind's voice was heard.

The next time, he saw the girl his stare was back to the "Oh! What a girl" intensity.  He stared at her hard but the girl did not look in his direction.  The burning question in Kapil's mind was "Was Paavani talking to this girl?  Were they talking about me?".  The question continued to haunt him for the next few days as he did not see any reaction from her.  In desperation, he started visiting Govind's home and start small talks with Paavani.  But he never really got the guts to ask Paavani about the girl on the bus.  So small talks remained small talks and the girl in that bus remained that girl in the bus.

One day, Kapil decided to move away from the under-the-tree location.  He watched the bus as it came by but on this day the girl was looking intently at the location where he used to stand.  She looked around and then her eyes returned to the location under the tree.  Kapil walked to towards the tree, looking at the girl with a smile on his lips.  When he reached there, the girl noticed him and jerked her head off in another direction.  She then slowly turned he head round and smiled at him.  "It's time of the season for loving" was going on in Kapil's head.  The bus moved away with the two looking at each other.  The next few days continued to be smile at each other days.

Kapil now wanted to take the relationship to the next level - He had to talk to her.  The next day, he got into her bus.  The girl saw him walk towards the bus and her smile disappeared.  He took a ticket to the last stop of that bus and walked towards the girl's seat.  She was busily looking at a book in her hand.  He stood by the seat but did not perceive any reaction from the girl.  He stood there for some time and attempted clearing his throat, singing a tune, whistling another tune, force a cough, force another cough, force a sneeze, sing another song,... At this point, the lady sitting next to the girl glared at Kapil and asked him, in quite an unfriendly manner, to keep quiet and move on.  The girl did not look up or react to either of this.  Kapil kept looking at her and moved towards the driver.  He continued to look at her but she kept her eyes on the book and the lady continued to glare at him.  Finally, Kapil got tired of the scene and got down from the bus.

That evening, he visited Govind's place where a heated argument was taking place between Govind and Paavani.  The topic was about Paavani's friend smiling at a guy in a bus stop and the guy following her into the bus.
"If she smiled, he will follow her.  What did she expect?" said Govind.
"Why should he follow her?  She was only being polite." was the response.
"It does not mean that she was being polite.  It means she likes him."
"No, it does not.  She hardly knows him.  So how can she like him?"
"Then why did she smile at him."
"She sees him everyday and so she decided to be polite and smile."
"She sees a lot of people every day.  Does she smile at all of them?"
"He smiled at her first and she only returned the smile."
"Anyway, what happened after that?  Did he talk to her?"
"No, a good lady sitting next to her chased the creep off."

By this time, Kapil was sweating profusely and was looking at a way to run out of the house.  Govind turned to Kapil, at the moment, and asked "Hey, you change buses and the link road stop isn't it?"  "Well, hmmm, ya sometimes."  "Have you seen this guy standing under a tree and smiling at girls passing by?"  "Hmmmm, no.  I don't know.  Hey, I got to leave".

The next day, Kapil went to the NSS office in his college and enrolled for the evening traffic duty - one and half hours of controlling traffic before reaching the link road stop.  He did not see that girl again till many years later.  It was on the day of Govind's sister wedding.
"Congratulations Paavani" she said.
"Hi Geeta, so glad you could make it" replied Paavani.  She then introduced Geeta to her husband "This is Geeta, my good friend from school."
"Congratulations Kapil.  You look familiar.  Have we met before?"

In deep and ends

Independence, independence independence day
Its a holiday, holiday, just another holiday
Leaders, leaders, leaders many powerful people
Struggled, struggled, struggled against usurpers
Respect, respect, respect them in heart
No more, no more, no more sustained
Fallible, fallible, fallible they seem
Gullible, gullible, gullible we seem
Tyrant, tyrant, tyrants in many forms
Rulers, rulers, rulers in any form

Independence day

As the time of celebration nears
A tired nation looks back, looks around
The lighted path is no longer seen
The glorious sun hides from sight
Leaders innumerable have come and gone
But some are still around
Visions limited to tips of their nose
Have to carry her on to lighted places
Is there anyone or any many who can do it?
The path is dark and we need a light
But eyes don't shine enough
Are the days of thirst back?
Do we need another great soul?
Are great souls made these days?
Question mark above our heads
A nation looks ahead in worry
And looks back with pride
That is a worry.

A trip to black out

Finally I gave into the pressure and decided to visit Dev and Goda. Indianapolis was the destination that weekend.  I called my travel agent to book tickets (this being the pre-e-prefixed-to-every-damned-word-in-the-dictionary age I had no other choice).  Some one called Nancy picked up the call and asked me how she can help me.  I asked for a return ticket to Indianapolis.
"To where?" she asked.
"Indianapolis" I said.
"I don't think I understand." came the response.
I could not believe that the travel agent did not know where Indianapolis was and so attempted a phonetic split "In-di-ana-police".
"Is it in India?" came the response.
"No, it is not in India; it is in the US" retorted my voice with a tinge of frustration.
The other side remained cool though.  "Can you spell it?"
"I N D I A N A P O L I S"
Recognition finally struck in. "Oh you mean Indianaaaeeeeplis" exclaimed Nancy.
"Yes, Indianaaaeeeeplis" repeated I with a mixed feeling of frustration and relief.

I got out of office on Friday evening and headed directly to the airport.  Dev would be there at the airport to pick me up.  Goda as ever had to work late that night.  The taxi driver, like most taxi drivers across the world, was of talkative nature and I ended up conversing on some very interesting topics.
1. Weather: "Its really hot these days", "Yes"
2. Traffic: "The traffic sucks at around this time", "Yes"
3. Sports: "Did you watch the match last night", "No"
4. Nationality: "Are you from Pakistan?", "No, India"
5. Food: "I love Indian food". "Oh is it?"
6. Bollywood: "I have watched a Bollywood movie once", "Did you like it?", "It was interesting; colorful".
...
1156 Politics: "So what do you think about our President?", "Well, mmmm, ahhhhh there is the airport."

I got out of the taxi and ran for my life.  I heard the taxi driver scream out "Sir" from behind.  After a moments hesitation I turned around to see him point at something in the back seat.  "Your bag" he said.  I picked up the bag with a "Thank you very much".  Fate was forcing me to forget the feelings I had for the guy.  My head put in a "Good guy" in its scratchpad and erased it almost immediately.

The flight to Indianaaaeeeeplis was uneventful except for a bad pocket of turbulence during which the aircraft  dropped a few kilometres and my kidney, liver and stomach got a little closer to each other - now they are in the same neighbourhood.  Oh yes, there was also that Pretzel that nearly broke a tooth.  And yes, I forget that OhJ (apparently an acronym for Orange Juice) that tasted like acid.  Other than that the trip was uneventful.  Of course, there was that passenger who stared at me and muttered a curse under his breath when my bag hit his head, quite accidentally, as I was taking it out of the overhead compartment.  Nothing untoward beyond that.  I  don't think I should mention about that fall I had as I was getting out of the aircraft.

It was not an emotional reunion with Dev but I think there were a few emotions in that reunion. It got expressed in a hand clasp and  a few "Enna da, eppidrairrukke?" type of queries.  Of course, he noticed the limp and asked what happened.  Of course, he was not happy with a nothing much type of response and persisted.  Of course I was forced to explain the fall.  And a final of course here - Of course, he laughed all the way to his car.

It was now my turn to be the proponent of  that taxi driver type of conversation.
"How far is your place?"
"Oh my place is about 10 miles from here.  Goda's place is closer to the airport and I am taking you there."
"You guys don't stay together"
"Hmmmm, no.  I moved out couple of months back"
"Why?"
"Well, nothing particular."
"Any problem between you guys?"
"No no, nothing da.  Don't be silly."
"Then?"
"Well, I moved in with my girl friend."
"GIRL FRIEND?"
"Yea."

I had never realized prior to that moment that Dev could actually blush and that the blush could be so noticeable.  Now there was no stopping my curiosity.

"You have a girl friend. Kalakkere"
"Oh hmmmm aaaaa"
"Indianaaaa?"
"No"
"Americana?"
"Illa da."
"Appuram."
"Chinese."
"Chinese aaaa?  Does she know English?"
"Of course she does.  What the hell da."
"Ok ok.  How long do you know her?"
"A few months now."
"You did not tell me!"
"Well, I thought hmmmm you know"
"Nor did Goda."
"Yeah hmmmmm well"
"When can I meet her?"
"Why do you want to meet her?"
"What! You are not going to introduce me to her?"
"No, I will.  Let us see."
"What is her name?"
"Stephanie"
"What is her original Chinese name?"
"Stu Pe Nee"
"Stepneyaaa?"
"Dai."
"Ok ok."

I asked a lot of other questions but the response from Dev was near monosyllabic.  Many of them started and ended with a menacing "Dai".  That night, I quizzed Goda a bit on Stephanie but did not get much information.  The next day was spent in seeing many uninteresting places.  I have very little remembrance of these places.  The three of us had a great time eating, drinking and talking about old times.  Through the day, Dev's phone kept ringing; he attended a few of the calls but ignored most of them in the afternoon.  When evening came, he informed us that he had to leave and cannot stay back for dinner.  I was offended and expressed it with a variety of abuses.  Dev displayed incredible patience and explained that he has to get back home for dinner with Stephanie.  I wanted to meet Stephanie and wanted accompany him.  Dev was quiet but Goda asked me to shut up.  I ignored Goda's rudeness and insisted on going with Dev.  Goda slapped his hand against his head and Dev descended into a ghostly look.  Finally Dev acceded and accepted to take us to his place.  Our drive to his home was mostly done in silence.  Dev tried to reach Stephanie on mobile but was not able to get through.

On reaching our destination, Dev said "Stephanie is not feeling very well today and is not in the best of her moods.  So guys please watch out."
Goda responded "Its ok da.  We will not come up.  You go."
"Come on Goda.  This is not polite" was my pig headed response.

Goda shrugged his shoulders and moved on.  Goda and Dev climbed up the stairs stealthily.  Dev took out his keys and carefully inserted a key into the lock.  He waited a moment, uttered a prayer, opened the door and called out "I am here, honey".  The response came in the form a "You #@$*&r".  Dev shouted a "watch out" and ducked.  I heard Goda running towards the stairs.  A pink object flew out of the door.  When it was a metre from my face I saw Britney smiling at me from the object.  Dev's "watch out" echoed in my head but I continued staring at Britney.  I then felt a pain tearing up from my nose to the insides of my head.  The world first turned pink, then red and finally black. 

Bleak and bliss

He crept through the night.  The jungle was dark but he being what he was did not bother.  He slid through the trees and grass quite easily.  The rocks and thorns on the ground did not bother him.

He was searching for something.  He did not know what it was but was sure he would know once he got it.  He had been searching for it from forever.  He could remember a time when something painful enveloped him.  The pain stayed with him since then but he was not sure how long back that was.  At the time the pain came in, he realized he had to find it.  At that point, he knew what it was but as time went by his memory faded.  How long did his memory last?  He did not remember.  He understood light and dark but did not understand seconds or minutes or hours or days or months or years or decades or centuries or millennium. There was just the search for it.  He saw a lot of things; some moved and some did not.  The ones that moved seemed to increase his pain but others did not increase his pain (they did not reduce it either).  He was not sure if the pain ever reduced.  He could only feel the increase in pain.  In fact, the only feelings he had were the pain and the need to find it.

Suddenly, he felt his pain decrease.  A new feeling started creeping in.  He moved forward but the pain increased.  He came back to the original spot.  He went to his right and felt his pain reduce.  So he continued to move forward.  At some point, his pain increased.  He traced his way back and went left with no effect.  He came back again, took the right and felt his pain reduce.  In this manner, he continued till he realized that he had found it.  He moved slowly towards it.  The pain had almost disappeared and a new feeling that he did not understand took over.  He continued moving till he had no feelings at all.

With no feeling left, what more can be said.

Meanness

I would have laughed at his falling
If not for the sound of his nose cracking
That thud of his crashing screamed into my ears
His face kissing floor, his leg in air

His thought of himself higher than he fared
Ground below too low to be cared
Stones and potholes of no bother
Snakes and thorns hurt some other

As I watched him strut around with pride
Thoughts unpleasant arose in my head
When out of nowhere his world rocked
And I heard the song "Going down" in my head

His nose traveled at an increasing pace
Maximum speed attained when floor touched face
Blood spilled out, coloring the floor red
Why do I feel I won in the end