Posted by: dekchidriver July 11, 2009
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***************Chapter 4******************
* Late Nights *
******************************************
"Oh noes!" groaned Sunny mockingly, "She brainwashed our dear Dharmu, our happy pork eating dharmu! We could well be the most secular apartment in the area. Now we're gonna be hearing about Judgment Day, qayamat, every now and then!"
The Muslims believe that each and every of your action is written in your Book of Deeds! Whether it be bad or good, it is written down. And until that supremely auspicious day (Qayamat) NO ONE knows just how much good or bad one's done. And that day, does not come very often. In fact, its never come. They're waiting for it. The Day of Judgment when their book of deeds and its logs will be 'judged' henceforth either allowing them eternal salvation or well, Hell, where you repent for your wrongdoings and reflect on your actions and hereby start the purification process.
Note of interest is that even when a Muslim dies, he does not get access to either Heaven or Hell UNTIL Qayamat has been passed. So when a living body dies, they (the muslims) believe in this phase called the Barzakh, a sequence that happens after death, in which the soul separates from the body and then rests in a cold sleep state. So in essence, ALL the Muslims who have died till now, all the way from King Jahangir to those suicide bombers in the 9/11 attack, they're in Barzakh, waiting in a state of sleeplessness for the Day of Judgment! Means, in the eyes of god, nor are they guilty, nor are they guilt-free.
"Such is the fate of men" mused a thoughtful Suste, "If they can't escape hell, they postpone the ticket. You can run, but you can't hide." his face alight with drunkenness and semi-religious fervor. He was stretched on the lazy chair fondling a bottle of Bud Light lime, while the others were haphazardly lounging about in the room.
Dharmendra was sitting on the cusp of the life size window/door to the veranda and Sunny was taking a drag out of his menthol and half-attentively listening to the conversation going on inside.
People mistook Sunny to be a good listener because he hardly interjected and every now and then added his 2 cents to the conversation. But truth was that Sunny was an eksoore an unlikely introvert always lost in his own limbo of oblivion. There were various factors that shaped his outlook, but intellectual conversation was not one of them. He wasn't a 'peoples person'. He was wild, reckless, a conflagration of speed and momentum and swept away anyone in his way. His comments were harsh and hurtful, but crazily accurate and in a way true. No one really knew what drove him. Some took him for plain retarded crazy, some saw him as an extremist of sorts, and the women all thought he was lata. He was definitely not an opportunist, more of the live by the minute man.
And that was what made him successful with the ladies. He was by no decent measure of scale, good-looking, or 'hunk'y, and not very athletic, but his 'uniqueness" balanced the scales in his favor. Einstein is reported of having said, there is beauty in mysteriousness, and this was exactly the case why Sunny received so much attention. Because no one understood him.
No one but his friends, and that's why they loved him even more. He wasn't the kind of guy to judge from 1st impression, not that its a standard for ANYONE to get measured by. 1st impression is always the wrong one. Hell, he might even have appeared stupid to many on first rendezvous.
"So Kazakstan huh?" Sunny questioned. "Where the hell is that?" Dharmu had already explained it was towards the north west of china, just like Afghanistan is to India he had exemplified. Formed as a satellite nation after the former USSR broke up into some fifteen or sixteen individual nations, Kazakhstan is a big chunk of land with a population density of 6 people per square kilometer, and is primarily a Muslim nation, although it is a secular state and recognizes other religions like Orthodox Christianity. Interestingly enough, it is the biggest landlocked country in the world. Although they do have really large lakes. Large enough to be called seas, and not lakes.
But off course, Sunny wasn't listening. He was already in a land far off, lost in his memories. "Its in South America" replied a frustrated Dharmendra, "and half the people over there are tribal cannibals. Thats how they keep their population under control."
Sunny nodded "Interesting. She could live off you for a couple of months."
And so the conversation dragged on into the wee hours of the morning and by the end of it eyelids were getting heavy and decided to call off their impromptu board meeting and resigned to their respective mattresses. There were no beds. Too expensive so they had just bummed someone else's mattresses and laid them out on the flood in their rooms. It was one of those things they didn't bother with. Who needs a bed when all you need to do is close your eyes and dream of one?
A couple of hours had passed and suddenly there was rapid knocking on Sanjeev and Sunny's door. "K bho?" came Sanjeev's weary voice.
A pale faced Dharmendra entered and quivered, "Theres something in my closet man! Its scaring the shit out of me. It keeps making random strange noises, and I know for sure its not the plumbing this time! I think its a ghost! Sanchi!"
"Maybe Allah has come to scare you from being a Muslim" a groggy Sunny quipped. "Maybe, its yamraj himself, who knows? Go open the closet, find out and goto sleep."
"Sanjeev aija na yar, ati tarsayo. I would have woken up Suste, but you know how he sleeps like Kumbakarna, plus I dont want to get scolded by him!"
Sanjeev, the big brother of the four roomies had no choice. Dharmendra would definitely not let him sleep peacefully until the matter at hand was addressed. To appease him, Sanjeev got out of bed and motioned for Dharmendra to follow and dissapeared into the other room. It was dark in there save for the red glow of the led on the alarm clock. It showed 6:06 in the am. "Couldn't have timed it better" murmured Sanjeev and was about to say more when a deep ferocious growling stopped him dead on his tracks and had hair raised on end.
It couldn't have been Suste, cuz he was in the other corner of the room. Thump Thump, came the noises again, this time he was sure it came from the direction of the closet. That room had no lights as the bulb had gone kaput a couple of days earlier and they hadn't visited Walmart for a replacement yet.
"You hear it too don't you? I think there's a wild beast in there". Dharmendra cowered behind Sanjeev. Another growl emanated from the closet. Grabbing the only weapon in the room, Suste's tennis racket, he inched towards the closet, Dhamendra close on his heels. Heart racing, he slid open the door of the closet as slowly as possible. It was pitch dark in the closet, which was a well endowed hollow space carved into the walls. It might have been the size of two "Superman" telephone booths, but in the pitch blackness, it might as well have been an abysmal portal to hell.
Suddenly there was a flurry of movement from inside the closet and a human hand shot out in the dark and grabbed Sanjeev by his leg. In no time he was shouting "FUCCCKKK kelle tokyo yarr!!!! " Dharmendra who had no idea what was going on because it was so dark started chanting "Ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram".
In a reflex of terror Sanjeev swung his racquet back with the intention of thrashing whatever was "biting" his leg, and hit Dharmendra instead, who, with his eyes closed, was feverently chanting Ram Nam, behind him. Letting out a wail Dharmendra collapsed to the ground loosing his senses, not because the impact was hard, but because of the fear that he was being attacked by this unknown demi-god-wild-animal inside of the closet.
In the midst of this turmoil, there was a familiar voice saying "Oye k bhayo? Ma ka chu yar?".
Sanjeev cocked his head listening, still gripping the tennis racket. "Ko ho?"
And without warning a figure stumbled out of the closet and bumped into Sanjeev and then tripped on Dharmendra's lying body and fell down with a crash. The noise had been enough to wake up Sunny and bring him running into the room dressed only in "Who's your daddy?" boxers. He'd been smart enough to bring his Blackberry because he knew that there was no light in there. The blackberry's glowing screen provided the light necessary to solve the situation. Lying face down on the ground, moaning in pain was Unlce Sam and a meter away from him Dharmendra, and a few further steps from him was Sanjeev sweaty and pale. Suste was sleeping peacefully oblivious of the drama that had taken place.
It was Uncle Sam who was making all those 'growling' 'thumping' noises in the closet with his snores and body movement. When the security had busted the party ealier, he had been the 1st to bolt to Dharmendra's room and hide himself in the closet. Unfortunately, no one knew he was there, so he had no way of knowing if everyone was busted or if it was safe to come outside and had fallen into drunken slumber amidst a pile of Suste's laundries.
After waking up Dharmendra and ensuring he wasn't hurt or anything, Sanjeev handed Uncle Sam a blanket and let him crash on the couch. Then shaking his head he retired to bed. Dharmendra visibly embarrased apologized for creating a scene and went down to crash in his spot. He was sort of envious that Suste was such a sound sleeper. What could he possibly be dreaming about that made it hard for him to pay any attention to the real world?
In the darkness of the room, Suste had a content smile on his face. He was cuddling his extra pillow with hands and legs and smiling like an idiot in his dreams.
What WAS he dreaming of?
***************Chapter 4******************
* tbc... *
******************************************
* Late Nights *
******************************************
"Oh noes!" groaned Sunny mockingly, "She brainwashed our dear Dharmu, our happy pork eating dharmu! We could well be the most secular apartment in the area. Now we're gonna be hearing about Judgment Day, qayamat, every now and then!"
The Muslims believe that each and every of your action is written in your Book of Deeds! Whether it be bad or good, it is written down. And until that supremely auspicious day (Qayamat) NO ONE knows just how much good or bad one's done. And that day, does not come very often. In fact, its never come. They're waiting for it. The Day of Judgment when their book of deeds and its logs will be 'judged' henceforth either allowing them eternal salvation or well, Hell, where you repent for your wrongdoings and reflect on your actions and hereby start the purification process.
Note of interest is that even when a Muslim dies, he does not get access to either Heaven or Hell UNTIL Qayamat has been passed. So when a living body dies, they (the muslims) believe in this phase called the Barzakh, a sequence that happens after death, in which the soul separates from the body and then rests in a cold sleep state. So in essence, ALL the Muslims who have died till now, all the way from King Jahangir to those suicide bombers in the 9/11 attack, they're in Barzakh, waiting in a state of sleeplessness for the Day of Judgment! Means, in the eyes of god, nor are they guilty, nor are they guilt-free.
"Such is the fate of men" mused a thoughtful Suste, "If they can't escape hell, they postpone the ticket. You can run, but you can't hide." his face alight with drunkenness and semi-religious fervor. He was stretched on the lazy chair fondling a bottle of Bud Light lime, while the others were haphazardly lounging about in the room.
Dharmendra was sitting on the cusp of the life size window/door to the veranda and Sunny was taking a drag out of his menthol and half-attentively listening to the conversation going on inside.
People mistook Sunny to be a good listener because he hardly interjected and every now and then added his 2 cents to the conversation. But truth was that Sunny was an eksoore an unlikely introvert always lost in his own limbo of oblivion. There were various factors that shaped his outlook, but intellectual conversation was not one of them. He wasn't a 'peoples person'. He was wild, reckless, a conflagration of speed and momentum and swept away anyone in his way. His comments were harsh and hurtful, but crazily accurate and in a way true. No one really knew what drove him. Some took him for plain retarded crazy, some saw him as an extremist of sorts, and the women all thought he was lata. He was definitely not an opportunist, more of the live by the minute man.
And that was what made him successful with the ladies. He was by no decent measure of scale, good-looking, or 'hunk'y, and not very athletic, but his 'uniqueness" balanced the scales in his favor. Einstein is reported of having said, there is beauty in mysteriousness, and this was exactly the case why Sunny received so much attention. Because no one understood him.
No one but his friends, and that's why they loved him even more. He wasn't the kind of guy to judge from 1st impression, not that its a standard for ANYONE to get measured by. 1st impression is always the wrong one. Hell, he might even have appeared stupid to many on first rendezvous.
"So Kazakstan huh?" Sunny questioned. "Where the hell is that?" Dharmu had already explained it was towards the north west of china, just like Afghanistan is to India he had exemplified. Formed as a satellite nation after the former USSR broke up into some fifteen or sixteen individual nations, Kazakhstan is a big chunk of land with a population density of 6 people per square kilometer, and is primarily a Muslim nation, although it is a secular state and recognizes other religions like Orthodox Christianity. Interestingly enough, it is the biggest landlocked country in the world. Although they do have really large lakes. Large enough to be called seas, and not lakes.
But off course, Sunny wasn't listening. He was already in a land far off, lost in his memories. "Its in South America" replied a frustrated Dharmendra, "and half the people over there are tribal cannibals. Thats how they keep their population under control."
Sunny nodded "Interesting. She could live off you for a couple of months."
And so the conversation dragged on into the wee hours of the morning and by the end of it eyelids were getting heavy and decided to call off their impromptu board meeting and resigned to their respective mattresses. There were no beds. Too expensive so they had just bummed someone else's mattresses and laid them out on the flood in their rooms. It was one of those things they didn't bother with. Who needs a bed when all you need to do is close your eyes and dream of one?
A couple of hours had passed and suddenly there was rapid knocking on Sanjeev and Sunny's door. "K bho?" came Sanjeev's weary voice.
A pale faced Dharmendra entered and quivered, "Theres something in my closet man! Its scaring the shit out of me. It keeps making random strange noises, and I know for sure its not the plumbing this time! I think its a ghost! Sanchi!"
"Maybe Allah has come to scare you from being a Muslim" a groggy Sunny quipped. "Maybe, its yamraj himself, who knows? Go open the closet, find out and goto sleep."
"Sanjeev aija na yar, ati tarsayo. I would have woken up Suste, but you know how he sleeps like Kumbakarna, plus I dont want to get scolded by him!"
Sanjeev, the big brother of the four roomies had no choice. Dharmendra would definitely not let him sleep peacefully until the matter at hand was addressed. To appease him, Sanjeev got out of bed and motioned for Dharmendra to follow and dissapeared into the other room. It was dark in there save for the red glow of the led on the alarm clock. It showed 6:06 in the am. "Couldn't have timed it better" murmured Sanjeev and was about to say more when a deep ferocious growling stopped him dead on his tracks and had hair raised on end.
It couldn't have been Suste, cuz he was in the other corner of the room. Thump Thump, came the noises again, this time he was sure it came from the direction of the closet. That room had no lights as the bulb had gone kaput a couple of days earlier and they hadn't visited Walmart for a replacement yet.
"You hear it too don't you? I think there's a wild beast in there". Dharmendra cowered behind Sanjeev. Another growl emanated from the closet. Grabbing the only weapon in the room, Suste's tennis racket, he inched towards the closet, Dhamendra close on his heels. Heart racing, he slid open the door of the closet as slowly as possible. It was pitch dark in the closet, which was a well endowed hollow space carved into the walls. It might have been the size of two "Superman" telephone booths, but in the pitch blackness, it might as well have been an abysmal portal to hell.
Suddenly there was a flurry of movement from inside the closet and a human hand shot out in the dark and grabbed Sanjeev by his leg. In no time he was shouting "FUCCCKKK kelle tokyo yarr!!!! " Dharmendra who had no idea what was going on because it was so dark started chanting "Ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram ram".
In a reflex of terror Sanjeev swung his racquet back with the intention of thrashing whatever was "biting" his leg, and hit Dharmendra instead, who, with his eyes closed, was feverently chanting Ram Nam, behind him. Letting out a wail Dharmendra collapsed to the ground loosing his senses, not because the impact was hard, but because of the fear that he was being attacked by this unknown demi-god-wild-animal inside of the closet.
In the midst of this turmoil, there was a familiar voice saying "Oye k bhayo? Ma ka chu yar?".
Sanjeev cocked his head listening, still gripping the tennis racket. "Ko ho?"
And without warning a figure stumbled out of the closet and bumped into Sanjeev and then tripped on Dharmendra's lying body and fell down with a crash. The noise had been enough to wake up Sunny and bring him running into the room dressed only in "Who's your daddy?" boxers. He'd been smart enough to bring his Blackberry because he knew that there was no light in there. The blackberry's glowing screen provided the light necessary to solve the situation. Lying face down on the ground, moaning in pain was Unlce Sam and a meter away from him Dharmendra, and a few further steps from him was Sanjeev sweaty and pale. Suste was sleeping peacefully oblivious of the drama that had taken place.
It was Uncle Sam who was making all those 'growling' 'thumping' noises in the closet with his snores and body movement. When the security had busted the party ealier, he had been the 1st to bolt to Dharmendra's room and hide himself in the closet. Unfortunately, no one knew he was there, so he had no way of knowing if everyone was busted or if it was safe to come outside and had fallen into drunken slumber amidst a pile of Suste's laundries.
After waking up Dharmendra and ensuring he wasn't hurt or anything, Sanjeev handed Uncle Sam a blanket and let him crash on the couch. Then shaking his head he retired to bed. Dharmendra visibly embarrased apologized for creating a scene and went down to crash in his spot. He was sort of envious that Suste was such a sound sleeper. What could he possibly be dreaming about that made it hard for him to pay any attention to the real world?
In the darkness of the room, Suste had a content smile on his face. He was cuddling his extra pillow with hands and legs and smiling like an idiot in his dreams.
What WAS he dreaming of?
***************Chapter 4******************
* tbc... *
******************************************
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:31 AM
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:32 AM
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:32 AM