(A hint that may help you enjoy better: Keep your mind's eye as open as possible)
3)
The lane where I’m going is right next to DURY LANE.
Stupid
little punks. Can’t watch where they are going; can’t even read signals; and
here they are, smearing the streets with burning tyre marks. This is getting
crazier by the day I tell you. And nobody does anything about it.
I
mean, what kind of a man doesn’t want to drive on clean roads, huh? What sort
of an idiot would enjoy opening the window of his vehicle to look down upon
crushed Cola cans, broken car parts, puddles of oil and puke, and God knows
what else passing besides him.
It
sickens me. It really does. You know I never open my window... never ever;
Well, unless I’ve got to spit out gum or tobacco or something.
I
love chewing tobacco.
Do
you want to know what I think? I’ll tell you what I think: it’s all a scam... a
big scam.
Why
else doesn’t someone like... uhhh... the... uuhhh... the government do
anything about it? I mean it could just ban sports cars or race-bikes from the
streets, couldn’t it? Is it that drastic a step to take? Well, no it isn’t. But
have they taken it? No.
I
don’t want to brag or anything but I spent a lot of time thinking about this
back when I was living with my in-laws... you see I had very little to do at
their place. And after a lot of pondering... and reasoning, I concluded that it
was all about Taxes.
Yes,
Taxes.
Well
I could explain it to you right now, but it is... uhh... It is a bit
complicated. So you may not understand it completely at the first instance. But
I assure you. I’ve... I’ve put a lot of thought to this... Yes, taxes are the
reason behind this scandal.
Oh
shit... did you see that? Did you bloody see that? That motorcycle almost
scratched off my tail light. These bloody… I tell you one of these days… Oh,
one of these days I’m just going to run over every last one of these wicked
driver brats.
I
swear I will. I suppose that’ll do the trick. And I don’t even have insurance
on this car!
And
what do you know! stupid little pricks... look at what they’ve made me do. I've
driven way past Dury Lane without noticing. Now I’m going to have to reverse
this darn thing.
Oh
Lord. I hope I make it on time.
4)
The building that I’m going to is the SIXTH one on the lane from the FAR LEFT.
So
where was I? Right... as I was saying, I have this problem. No, it is not a
physical one. It is more of something that has to do with my head. Well I…
uuhhh… how do I put it.
Ok,
here it goes- I forget things.
What?
No, its not amnesia. Something else.
What?
No. I haven’t seen ‘Memento’. But I know what that movie’s all about and no,
that is not what I am suffering from either. I just forget random things...
small things to be precise.
Yes.
I think they have a medical term for my condition. Uuuhhh... let me see... I
don’t know if I’m spelling it right… ah yes… I remember… it starts with a D...
then a U... then there’s an M and finally... I think it was a B.
Yes,
D.U.M.B. I think that’s it. That was what my wife told me I was suffering from.
Whats
that? Yes. Yes I know it sounds like the word ‘dumb’. I tell you what, (laughs
out heartily) that was the first thought that came to my mind as well when she
spoke to me that day as we were walking out of the hospital. But she even gave
me the full word for each letter and I swear to God it sounded pretty much
medical.
What?
Well yes, I do remember the full form. Yes, I... I could say it right
now, but... uuuhhh... trust me, there’s no use, you wouldn’t understand
it anyway, all medical terms and stuff.
So-
I forget things. That’s that.
For
how long have I had this problem? As long as I can remember.
My
wife said the doctors couldn’t tell whether the problem was from birth or began
sometime after. But she also said that it made no difference. Why? Because, as
of today there is no cure for my condition.
Yes,
seems like I’m just going to have to live with it.
Ok.
So we are at the far left, right? Alright. One... two... three... aaaaannnnnddd...
four. That’s it. That’s the fourth building right there. What? Of course I know
that we are going to the sixth one. I was just about to count five and six,
when you interrupted me!
You
know, people around me might say otherwise, but I think my condition has
started to cure since the day I got married. It sure has. It feels a lot better
when you have someone who knows what your problem is and someone who can, you
know, sort of... uuhh... care for you.
My
wife? Oh she’s a... she’s just an angel. I... I bet you, you wouldn’t have seen
anyone as funny as her. She has got this sense of humor that would blow you
right away. You just won’t see it coming and the next thing you know is that
your sides will be aching with all that giggling and laughing.
Hey,
wait a minute, I think I have a picture of her somewhere, (puts his hand behind
the mirror above and pulls something out).
There.
That’s her. Right there, standing besides me… Taken on our wedding day. Isn’t
she just beautiful?
Huh?
Well I can see that. I know she isn’t smiling in the picture and all. But I
tell you, some of the jokes she cracks, you’d have to have a pretty high… uuuhhhh... what do they call it… uuuhhhh… yes… IQ.
A pretty high IQ to… you know... just get the darn joke.
No
its not.
No,
she isn’t!
Why
would she be annoyed on our wedding day? No. maybe you’re not looking at her
properly.
Ok.
Just give it back! Just give me the damn photo.
I’m
telling you, she was not gnashing her teeth. She was not angry. That is how she
looks; that is her happy face, and I know it better than you mister, so watch
your mouth. (slides the photo back into the slot behind the mirror above him).
My
wife’s an angel. She really is. And she’s not just my wife you know. We’re
partners, in business. So give her a little respect.
What?
My job profile? Oh it’s nothing fancy. I just take care of the external work.
You know, going places, meeting people, buying, selling; things like that. My wife
handles the office work. Her’s is the bigger responsibility, of course. I
couldn’t last one day, doing the things that she does.
I
think we have arrived. And would you look at that! (shows his watch) We’re
right on time!
No.
No need to go to the parking lot. We’ll just leave the car on this side of the
road. My wife always tells me never to use parking lots.
No.
I don’t know why.
Let’s
see now. What’s the next one say...
5)
The floor that I’m going to is the GROUND FLOOR and the entrance to it reads
A.G.G. BANK.
Is
that a ‘G’? or a ‘C’? Looks more like a ‘C’ to me. So is it A.G.G or A.C.C?
Heck.
Now
what do I do?
Oh,
how many times have I told my son to practice on his block letters! How am I
supposed to do my work this way? What if I ended up going to the wrong place
and settling things with the wrong people? Could you imagine how stupid I would
look to my wife? After all that she does for me...
Ok.
I just need to calm down. No point in wasting time. I’m taking a wild guess
that we are at the right place.
A.G.G…
A.C.C, they all look the same to me. I’m going in.
I
tell you, the banks these days, what kind of service is it that they talk so
big about? They spend so much on fitting the entrance with glass doors and gold
coated door knobs; but not one gatekeeper in sight to open the doors for you.
You
just have to do everything by yourself. Like the... uuuhhh… what do they call
it… the... the buffet system. Utterly ridiculous!
Alright
I’ve opened the doors and got in. What next?
6)
The woman that I’m going to meet...
Damn
it!! Stupid boy! Can’t see where he’s heading; can’t stop himself from dashing
into other people’s ribs. Spoilt brat! Now my cards are all scattered on the
floor. And look at his nerve, doesn’t even bother to lift them up for me;
doesn’t even bother to beg me pardon! Oh, the kids these days. Just unbearable
I tell you.
But
you know what? Its instances like these that make me realize how lucky I am. My
wife and I have two sons, 14 and 10 years old; and neither of them are crude…
not one bit… no sir.
They
are as cultured as boys can be. And the way they walk, the way they talk; makes
me proud every time they call me dad. Oh by the way, I almost forget to tell
you, it’s my son’s birthday today.
No.
The younger one.
Yes,
we’re having a small get together at my in-laws place tonight. Nothing pompous.
Well, they always prefer few or no guests from outside the family at their
house. So its just going to be me, my wife and the kids.
Did
I tell you, my wife can cook up the best supper that you could eat? Heck, my
stomach is rumbling as I speak! Can’t wait to sink my teeth into that ‘special’
something that she promised to prepare for the birthday boy (laughs).
What?
Surprise? Of course I’m going to give him a surprise? I’m his dad, am I not?
Who else were you expecting to do it?
Well,
you see my sons are... uuhhhh... what you could call tough skinned. No, no...
not literally!
I
mean they... uuuhhhh... they’re the sort of kids who are always up for a scare.
How
do I know? I just know it.
Alright
I’ll tell you how, most of the films they watch… in fact, all of the films they
watch are horror. So I figure this: what better surprise could there be for my
tiny tot than a poltergeist knocking on the windowpane of his room while he’s
busy doing homework. Hah? How does that sound for a scare?
So
I ask my wife and she tells me I could use this outfit (points to himself) once
I’m, you know, done with my work for the day. Such a sweet heart, my wife is.
Ok.
(Picks up the fallen cards and starts reading again). Where was I...
6)
The woman that I’m going to meet stands behind a COUNTER in the CORNER FARTHEST
from the DOOR. Her label reads ‘TELLER’.
I
just don’t understand what people have against tall persons. Why does everyone
have to stare at me like that? Am I different from the rest of the customers?
I’m here to make a simple withdrawal; a straightforward transaction with the
bank just like everyone else has, right? And I’m sincere enough to just stick
to what I’ve come for, am I not?
It’s
not like I’m disturbing them; it’s not like I’m meddling with their documents
and stuff. But what do I get in return for my sincerity? Long drawn faces and
horrified looks. Now I’d agree if anyone told me that I appeared... uuuhhh... brutal
or something; but does it really mean that I’d just go around hitting people at
random?
As
if I’d ever hurt a fly.
Let
me tell you something, I may not have what you’d call a permanent desk job; no
sir, I’ve never had one my whole life. But I still am a partner in business... yes
I am. Doesn’t that count for something? And I’ve never wished everyone to hail
me as their lord or kiss my feet. Heck, I can’t even come to imagine such a
scene. I just want them to stop giving that awkward gawk that I feel around me
every time I enter a bank. That’s all. Is that such a big thing to ask for?
Anyway.
Whats the point of thinking about it. I know already that things are always
going to remain the same. People judge you by what you show them and it ends
there.
Hollow-souled
sinners!
Alright.
Farthest corner from the door.
And
what do we have here: T... E... L... L… ok ok, that must be her.
8)
The money that I am going to withdraw is with the woman that I’ve just met; I
will pass the BROWN COLORED NOTE that I have in my LEFT POCKET across the
counter and wait until she has passed me the CASH.
Ok.
Simple enough. Alright. Now let me see... uuhhh... left pocket... uuuhh... brown
note.
Right,
here it is, and here it goes across the counter.
I
look at the woman who is holding the note. She’s wearing one of those chic blue
dresses. I think I’d seen it once on the window of a shop while driving on the
road. Funny little clothes, I tell you, these modern ones. You just can’t
decide why women wear them- is it to ensure that the essentials are covered up
or is it to make sure that everything else isn’t (laughs).
Well,
I can’t speak for any other woman. But I know my wife’s taste. She hates this
craze for skimpy dresses. ‘I’d rather die than flaunt myself like that in front
of other men’, she will tell me when I ask her about it.
What?
No. I haven’t asked her yet.
But...
uuuhhhh... I’m sure her answer will be what I’ve told you.
So,
here I am waiting for the cash.
I
look up to the teller’s face. And I’m not lying one bit, the moment I see her,
I get reminded of a peeled off gourd. Yes, a gourd.
What
is it with these cashiers? What was it that I’d heard a few days ago in one of
those advertisements that keep blurting every half hour on TV? Right... ‘Service
with a smile’.
What
was that all about if she can’t even show emotions on her face?
Do
I care? Of course I don’t. What difference does it make if she isn’t smiling,
winking or throwing kisses at me as long as my task is being worked on without
delay?
So,
I wait some more.
And
when I’m finally handed over the bag, I count fifteen minutes. No, I’m not
lying. Fifteen minutes is what it takes for the best bank in town to process a
simple transaction of withdrawal. I can’t believe people actually pay for this
kind of shitty service.
Alright.
No problem. I’ve left the counter with my bag and started walking. The door is
just five steps away now.
(Looks
at his watch) Not bad.
If
I hurry up a bit, I may even get time to pick up flowers for my sweetheart. Oh,
how much I miss her when I’m out working.
So
then, where to.
9)
The TRUNK of my CAR is where I am going to KEEP THE BAG that I’m holding and...
Whats
that bloody noise? My darned ear has started to ache now. What a load of
ruckus!
Well,
there you have it; as if the service wasn’t bad enough… now this.
(Shouts
at the teller) Haven’t you gits ever heard of... uuuhhh... noise pollution or
something?
Stupid
bank; filled with stupid employees... Can’t even smile and here they are
torturing me with this racket. I could file a... what do they call it... right,
a suit against them or something; claim damages for sheer lack of
professionalism.
Wait
a second.
Is
that... is that what I think it is?
But...
uuuhhhh... how could it be that? I mean... uuuhhh... I mean, did I do something
different? No. I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. Or... uuhh... did I not do
something? No. I’ve done everything given. Then what is it?
(shuffles
through the cards for a few seconds and then suddenly stops)
Damn
it.
7)
The woman BEHIND THE COUNTER is the woman that I am going to meet; I will pass
her the RED NOTE that I have in my RIGHT POCKET and then I will WAIT FOR A NOD.
Damn
him, that little brat! This is all happening because of him; stupid child.
Can’t do anything right; can’t let anyone else do things right. I tell you, if
I were his father, I’d… I’d... cane his naughty little bums; I’d cane him until
he’d know how to behave.
He
made me miss one out. He made me miss one bloody card.
Now
look at all those cars halting outside the door. Screeching wheels and flashy
red lights… Silly little gimmicks.
What?
What am I going to do now?
I’ll
tell you what I’m going to do now; I’m going to do exactly what I’ve come here
to do; I’m going to do exactly what I was told to do by my spouse dearest.
9)
The TRUNK of my CAR is where I am going to KEEP THE BAG that I’m holding; then
I’m going to DRIVE back to my house by the SHORTEST ROUTE.
Am
I worried? Am I tensed?
No
sir. I’m not, not one bit.
Why?
Is there anything I should be worried about? No there isn’t.
I
tell you what my wife says to me every time I leave home for a bank. She says, “Now
honey, if anything at all happens that ought not to have happened, there’s no
need to panic.” Such a sweet thing she is, my wife. “Remember that you are a
customer making a withdrawal just like everyone else is.” Yes I remember that
all right. “Just stay calm and you’ll never know when you are through with the
job and back home with me.” She adds.
That
is exactly what I’m going to do- Stay calm.
Oh,
and you know how much she cares for me? You want to know what she tells me
every single time. She says, “Don’t mind what others will say dear. No need to
sweat beneath that horrible costume. Always unbutton your coat while you’re
doing your work honey. Open it up, nice and wide. Let in some fresh air. I
promise you, it’ll be very comforting.” And I’m going to do that as well before
I walk through the doors and up to my car.
And
what do you know? (Pushes open the glass doors and keeps walking casually) none
of these khaki-clad clowns seem to be bothering me.
(‘What
the!’, someone exclaiming. 'Whats that on his stomach?')
Hell,
my wife was right! Yes she was!
They're
stepping back.
(A
loud voice echoing in the background, 'Clear the area... . . Everyone back
off.')
“Ok...
Alright now, we’re going to let you through.” Shouts out one of them in my
direction on that... uuuhhh... whats it called... uuuuhhhh... yes, right…
handheld microphone.
“Don’t
be hasty now son. Theres a lot of innocent people here." He tells me.
"You don’t want to hurt them, do you?”
The
hell is that all about? I never told him that I wanted to!
“Alright.
You can board your vehicle. And I promise you that we won’t follow.” he shouts
again.
“Just
don’t press the god damned button!”
I
tell you, policemen these days, no idea when to say what. Blathering on that
mike; trying to show off in front of ordinary people just because they are
allowed to carry fancy stuff with them.
How
do morons even become policemen? I mean, isn’t there a... uuuhhh... test
or something to, you now, see whether they are sane or not?
Anyway.
(Opens up the trunk of his car, adjusts the bag inside it and bangs the hood
close)
What
do I care about some old git wearing a uniform?
My
job is done, right? (Unlocks the car door and gets in)
And
would you look at that, I’ve still got time to fetch those flowers for my dear
wife! (Engine starts as the road in front is being cleared of vehicles)
Oh,
how much I miss her when I’m out working.
7 comments:
The story is really an "INTELLIGENT COMEDY".The person playing the dumb character has left aamir khan of ghajini far behind...but the way you have shown the wife's character at the first shot makes us feel that she is really an angel but later on things turn out to be totally different.......
Definitely, a definite script rather than a story with finite number of characters and a very definite ending. But then, again it may be an indefinite ending for those of finite mind but most surely a definite closure with a person possessing an infinite imagination.
PS. (For dummies) – No Understand no read. Yes understand yes read.
@ Tejas: Well Defined, definitely! :)
This is a boring horror story. I was just laughing so much. so bad. uh.. wait.. uh
10) Read the comedy 'The Poltergeist' written by Anonymous.
uh.. comedy!
This is a comic piece that takes a second or third reading to really understand. And then it isn't so funny because the underlying sadness is winning out now. So it's a bit like a Wodehouse short story directed by Aronofsky, if you get what I mean. In other words, it's good at a level beyond the comprehension of most people.
Wow!! Blown away, without him having to 'press the button'. Loved the structure of the piece. Been a while since I read something with such rapt attention...especially, once the darkness of the story becomes evident and takes over everything else. Masterfully done!!! :)
Take a bow, Ravi! Brilliant, simply brilliant...
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