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 The college years - Book I
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Posted on 06-29-09 4:55 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Note: This is a ficticious account. Please keep that in mind.










******************CHAPTER 1*****************
**               Same Old Story           **
********************************************



Work finished and Sunny came home all tired and greased up from closing the campus cafeteria. He'd been working there for the past six months along with a whole 'basti' of other fellow Nepali students earning to pay for their textbooks. The job was allright, it was better than working for construction, but it had its tolls.

One could only work during the weekdays, which meant juggling class schedule and work was quite a task. Getting a substitute to cover was as simple as calling someone and asking them if they wanted hours, and if they did, they'd be glad to oblige. Everybody was happy that way.
Sitting down on the tattered beize couch he untied his boots carelessly and flung them into the closet by the door. Basket! He praised himself. It was Friday night, and Sunny always loved Fridays. Espcially since this was only his second semester in college and the 100 level courses just consisted of silly multiple choice question answers that required as much as 2 hours of total studying before the finals to mug up all possible answer combinations. All too easy!
'So where is everyone', he found himself asking. And it was weird, because usually by 8pm on Fridays his roomates would have been figuring out what alcohol to get for the weekend. Today, it was calm. Across the room the 20" Sharp television flickerd the Xbox logo dancing across the screen.

The Xbox could be viewed as their temple, or their battlefield. Many a lives had been destroyed, over and over again, on the surreal ring planet of Halo. Snipers, swordsmen, turret gunners, drivers, demolitionists, and even hand combatants dished it out all night long here. It was a sub-culture thing. People from far and wide (ie: other apartments) used to visit the famed apartment to partake in the vitual bashing of their peers.
On occasions the atmosphere used to get so heated that physical taunting of competetors became common. But it was all in good spirit.
After all, it was just a game, played on a teeny 20" screen by four participants, all of them skilled at reading the other person's screen to find out exactly where he/she was running about. It provided for good entertainment value and idle talk.

With nothing else to do, Sunny humbly grabbed his weapon, the controller and initiated single player campaign. While he was waiting for the loading to complete his eyes fell on the communal ashtray. 'El Roacho!' he exclaimed as he spotted a half smoked joint chilling casually on the rims. 'The boys must have saved this for me' he thought reassuring himself as he hurried to the stove to light it up. A couple of drags later, he was Master Chief, protector of the universe, opening a can of major whoopass on a group of Unggoys, with his battle rifle.

In the midst of his intergalactic saga, a knock on the door, followed by the abrupt entrance of Sunil dai. Sunil dai was a dimunitive man, with a balding head, and always had dark circles under his eyes. He was reputed for being infamously anal about the younger generation. People jokingly called him Hitler for his almost nazi-like fundamentalism.

"K ho muzi, jahile ya ayo, ki game kehlirachunchas, ki gaza khai ra hunchas, ki party garira hunchas! Tei garnu ama bau le talai pathako america?" Sunil dai opened the floodgates.

"A dai, ama le asti chitti ma heroin khanu chai na birsi hai chora, bhanera leknu bha thiyo, aba tyo chai baki cha. Basnu na dai, ek shot hanne ho ki?" mocked Sunny. He didn't like Sunil dai. Infact, there were very few people who liked the old goat. Its because he always preached his ideals to people younger than him. Always ready to emotionally blackmail you with promises made to parents, with misguided patriotism and other general bullshit.

Always out to spoil the fun, Sunil dai was. The old man just never shut up, except when in the presence of his older peers!

"Heraaa ellai! Najayaz balak! I pheel sawry phor your parents!" chided Sunil dai.

"Me too." replied Sunny picking up a shotgun in game. Oh how he wished he had a real one. It was usually useless to argue with Sunil dai. Budo le kahile kahi ati tension dine sapailai. Here was a man who was living in the past, and at the same time trying to force his version of reality on the bunch of young guniea pigs he found in Sunny's apartment.

That was one of the reasons for his unpopularity. Everyone missed their parents, in their own way. They didnt need sum old spiteful boka reminding them at each and every turn of how they were fkking up their life and shattering their parent's expectation. But he could not get used to the notion that not everyone thought like him. A piously rigorous man he was with a fixed set of rules. Rigid. And he never gave up on the nagging.

"Ani dai, aja k cha ta plan?" Sunny was trying to make conversation. He already knew what the buda boka had in mind, but still.

"Tei ho bhai" Sunil dai softened up. "eso raati tira ekchin downtown janu parla!". Sunny couldn't help but stifle his laughter. Weekends, Sunil dai and downtown was a common story in the neighborhood.

Sunil dai's father owned a travel agency back in Nepal. His parents had probably borrowed from here and there to send their 35 year old son to a better place where he could hopefully be successful in what he liked doing. Sangeet. Or the lack thereof.
So the old guy, had made it so far, and now instead of accepting what was around him, he was trying to forcefully change it. But one thing he did try to accept. And that was the women. Whenever Sunil dai noticed slender white legs plowing through the pavements, his eyes turned into saucers and whoever was around him at that fateful moment got splashed with his extremely vulgar intentions as to what he would do if he ever got a woman like that. The deaf were definitely lucky in that they didnt have to hear the volley of sexual motifs set forth deep from Sunil dai's labido!
Rumor had it that Sunil dai got the wrong impressions from overwatching Girls Gone Wild and henceforth started visiting clubs in downtown every Friday, in hopes of bagging himself a prize snowbunny! And EVERY Friday/Saturday night, he lurked in the shadows of the clubs waiting, watching, wanting.

And darned clever he was too! He once confided to Sunny that his main aimfor the moment was to get married to an American girl by professing his undying love for her. So that he would have the proper contacts to help out with his father's waning business in the tourist industry back home. "Shes going to be our ticket to richness" he had sneered in his typical way.


"Ani bhai, khane kura kei chaina yaha? Malai ta kasto bhok lagyo yaar. Timiharu kei pakako chaina?"

" ... " Sunny acted like he was fully engrossed in the game but the back of his mind was shouting insults. Sunildai ALWAYS did this. That old goat was too lazy to cook, and too kanjus to do groceries so he used to mooch off them as often as he could. Word on the street was Sunil dai was so kanjoos that he set up agreement with his roomates NOT to pay for toilet paper since he didnt have use for them. Poor roomates of his recall hearing the the tap in the bathtub go on everytime Sunil dai had to answer nature's call. "Khai dai ma ta bhakkar kam bata ako, fridge ma kei hola ki." Sunny could not be mean even if he tried to. Plus he was tired and stoned! He just wanted to chill!

Sunil dai came back with a plate and 2 chalupas! "oho! kolle mero lagi bachayecha" bhandai, khanu thalyo. Sunny just ignored him. He sat there thumbing his way through Halo while Sunil dai sat by his side and noisily finished off the chalupas, put the plate on the table in front of Sunny and with some words of excuse, left the room.

Back in the game, Master Chief was really kicking ass!

After what seemed a couple of hours the door opened and the remaining heroes of the apartment entered, carrying plastic bags with Walmart sign on them. Sanjiv, Suste, and Dharmendra. Yep that was his real name. Dharmendra. Given him by his parents who were probably a big fan of the Bollywood icon. At least thats what the rumors said. No one really cared to ask if it was true.

"Oye, bahira gadi bata doodh ra anda lyai de na, ani alikiti saman haru ni hola." ordered Sanjeev.

Sanjeev was the cool headed responsible diplomatic roomate who knew how to get stuff done without really making anything seem like an issue. He was the much needed cement to keep the bricks together. The three of them were bricks. They were unique and individual, but bricks. And some of the ladies even thought it was spelt with a 'p'.

*****************END CHAPTER ONE*********************
*                 to be continued...               **
*****************************************************













********************Chapter 2 *********************
**           Guilt free semesters                **
***************************************************



Sunny stepped outside the apartment into the parking lot.  It was 30F and snowing lightly. Cursing under his breath, he made his way to the parked Mazda MX6 and scavenged what was left of the groceries; milk, eggs, a couple of Walmart bags with  coriander, broccoli and tomatoes, and rushed indoors to escape the biting cold.



Inside, Sanjeev had already gotten preparation underway instructing the boys to stow away the groceries in the appropriate places, most of which went into the refrigerator.  



"K cha ta plan bro?" asked Sunny teasingly. He knew there HAD to be some sort of fun activities planned for the weekend. The 'Ghetto Boys', as they called themselves, couldnt live without rewarding themselves a little over the weekend. It was customary.



Every Friday, the roomates would pitch in $20 each and go out to the liquor store to get some goodies for the night. Suste was in charge of the alcohol as he was considered the 'connoiseur' amongst them and always came back with fruity delicacies to soften their palate and intoxicate them with. Sunny was in charge of getting the 'chicks' as he had contacts in the college dorms, which were always full of eager minors interested in hanging out with the internationals. Plus it was a dry campus, meaning no alcohol within campus boundaries so if someone wanted to drink, they'd either have to go to the bar and shell out tonnes of $$ or crash an off-campus apartment party.



"Boka lai call gar, ani chix haru kati auncha bhanera khabar gar" instructed Sanjeev to Sunny. 'Boka' was their friend who lived in the dorms and hence had friends, girls and guys who were looking for a decent place to hang out. WIth his help, the boys had become acquainted with a good number of college students, both american and international. "Dharmu, khana ko intazaam gara yar" poked Sanjeev, "esto bhok lagi racha".



Dharmendra was furiously burrowing through the fridge in search of something. Dharmendra was the mote amongst them. Every group of friends have at least one who is slightly stubby, lazy, and loves to eat. Dharmendra was The Chosen One of this group. Frustrated, he gave up and came outside by the sofa where Suste was playing Halo. Sunny was outside on the veranda talking to 'Boka' coaxing him to get 'as many chix' as he could.



"La bhayo" squeaked Sunny as he entered back, "Boka le 4 jana kt haru lyauncha re! Suste ja alik ramro jaad kinera aija. Asti tyo 99 Bananas thik lagya thiyo, tyo ni le na hai?".



"Taile mero chaloopa khako ho?" Dharmendra accused suspiciously. He had seen the plate that Sunil dai left on the table. He hated it when someone ate something that he had been planning/dreaming to eat later on. It never went well with him and all his roomates were aware of that fact.



Sunny was defensive "Ka maile khanu? Tero baje ayera khayo. Sunil dai le. Ja ullai gayera kara. Dimag kharab yaar. Ma bhanda ullai mero ama bau ko dherai chinta cha!"



Everyone laughed. They knew Sunil dai and his notorious tactics all too well. On seeing that the half saved joint was missing as well, Dharmendra teased, "G ni budo le sakayo hola haina Sunny?" This time the laughter was louder and longer.  Sunny's was a bit hysteric owing to his recent contact with the drug.



A couple months ago, Sunil dai had barged in, as always, into their apartment just as the boys were about to light one up. Sunny had offered Sunil dai a hit, but little did they know that the old man had never smoked his entire life. Sunil dai went crazy. He started blaming them for trying to kill him and even threatened to call the police on them. It took the guys a whole lot of effort to calm him down and persuade him that they were'rnt trying to kill him or anything. Then Sunil dai, once calmed, proceeded to appease the boys by showing off his musical talent in singing. And so the old frog croaked Sa Re Ga Ma and some motifs in the scale holding the boys hostage as his audience. It was a well remembered incident, and they vowed not to let that happen again.



The clock struck 9:40 and Suste was cajoled into his alcohol delivery because the liquor stores all closed at 10. Obiediently, he took his leave and Dharmendra proceeded to resign himself to the kitchen. It was going to be a long night, and they had just begun.



There was no such thing as preparation because all they needed were drinks and people. At five to ten Suste arrived with the drinks, and by ten thirty, the much awaited Boka arrived with his shipment of beautiful ladies and a couple other guys.  Sunny usually DJed for the crowd on the 5.1 Creative Surround Sound speakers that they'd bought off ebay. He started off with ATB and queued up Paul van Dyke on his jukebox.



Within half an hour, a steady stream of Nepali guys and girls flowed into the apartment from the neighboring apartments, each with his/her bottle of tequila or other preferred alcohol as was the unspoken rule of BYOB at house parties.



There was the Nepali Spice Girls, who were given the name cuz they were always together, the 5 of them, and they loved to dance. Then there were The Troopers, a group of 8 guys who had just come from nepal and stuck together most of the time. The Troopers were a lil wild and rowdy, but they were really nice helpful people and mixed well with the rest of the diaspora, often participating in jokes and laughs. Suste nudged Sanjeev to bring their attention to one of the Troopers hitting on the Spice Girls. "Monkey blast, geda fast" was the motto around their apartment. And things moved fast, especially when everyone was drunk.



A bunch of guys were crowded around each of the dorm chicks, offering drinks, smokes, phone numbers, dances. The four girls were thoroughly enjoying the attention they were getting. Dharmendra had one of the girl's undivided attention as he was explaining to her about the religion and culture of Nepal. Sunny and Boka were teaming up on this girl from Serbia, who was an exchange student and whose accent probably drove half the guys in the room crazy.



Suste was the quiet one. The reserved introvert who spoke very little and when he did it usually carried a lot of weight with it. He sat nimbly on the arm of the sofa listening in on all the conversation around him. He didn't really care for all these women, or the parties. His heart was with someone else, and at the moment his mind was preoccupied with her thoughts. No one else knew about it but Suste. Not even the girl herself knew that he even remotely liked her. He was good with hiding his emotions and keeping things a secret. Thats why a lot of people trusted him and told him their secrets and their grudges. He was very diplomatic too, offering a kind word when someone confided to him about their tragedy. His story, or his secrets, tho, were never known to anyone but himself. Suste had his own views on life and there was no one who could change the way he saw things.





In the midst of all the commotion there was a rasp knocking on the door. Nobody noticed it at first. Then the knocking turned into a banging. Sunny jumped and cut the music and went to the door and spoke "Who is it?".



From the other side, a serious voice shot back "Security!"



The look on the faces of the underaged drinkers were always the same.





********************End Chapter 2******************
**                to be continued...             **
***************************************************



Last edited: 17-Jul-09 03:44 PM

 
Posted on 06-29-09 5:59 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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"A couple of drags later, he was Master Chief, protector of the
universe, opening a can of major whoopass on a group of Unggoys, with
his battle rifle."


"Word on the street was Sunil dai was so kanjoos that he set up
agreement with his roomates NOT to pay for toilet paper since he didnt
have use for them. Poor roomates of his recall hearing the the tap in
the bathtub go on everytime Sunil dai had to answer nature's call."


LOL couldnt stop laughing while going thru these lines..next time from home only.
Jhandai jagir khuskya
Good one.

 
Posted on 06-29-09 8:50 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Nice read dekchiedriver, i am waiting for more :D

 
Posted on 06-30-09 2:49 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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ahaaaa so the writer is back ;)

.......and woahhh what an entertaining read . Kudos .

 
Posted on 06-30-09 4:53 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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********************Chapter 3****************
**                                 Knock,Knock                          **

********************************************

The security personell at Plaza Heights Apartment, was a pudgy 40-something year old, with big thick, gold-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes ever so a bit, and chubby fingers with which he always clutched on to a Maglight torch. His hair was combed in a sloppy slant and showed telltale signs of his setlling age. He was the supreme dictator of Plaza Heights, nothing moved without his noticing it, no one breathed without his permission. They peed when he told them to, and talked when he told em to. He had the complex in his iron grip. Or thats what the senile bastard liked to believe anyways.

Peeping through the doorhole Sunny motioned for the others to get hidden. There was quiet pandemonium inside. Dharmendra in a swift motion, grabbed a trash bag and within no time had all the beer cans and glasses whisked to safety and then went to hide himself. The vast majority of underaged drunks filed into the bedrooms inside, some went as far as stuffing themselves in the closet and wait for the green signal. Most of the Americans were hysterical and just opened the balcony slides and jumped onto the grass and took off. Suste was in one of the bedrooms calming everyone down and telling them to shut up and Dharmendra was doing the same in the other room.

Meanwhile, Sunny pushed Sanjeev to the door to talk to security. They were the only two people above 21, and a ticket meant they'd be responsible for all the minors hiding inside.

The door opened and the fat security guy was waiting impatiently with his young trainee.

"You sure took long to open the door" he accused.

"Sorry, my phone rang at the wrong moment" Sanjeev defended, trying to buy them some time.

"Well you know why we're here?" questioned fatty.

There was a sarcastic tone to his voice, hinting that he'd done this drill all too many times in the past.

"Yeah I guess someone complained about the music in here!" answered Sanjeev "Sorry, we were cooking and thought it would be nice to listen to some music while at that"

"At 1:30 in the morning?" He wasn't buying it. He knew pretty darn well that something fishy was going on, but just couldnt bring himself to accuse them because after all the apartment was empty and there were no traces of alcohol.

"So whats with all these shoes?" he said, pointing at the 20 odd pairs of shoes and slippers next to the door.

Sanjeev let out a sheepish smile "We love shoes, we buy them as soon as theres a sale in the mall".

"Even those heeled ones?" mocked the trainee.

"Well, girlfriends are visiting" sanjeev flashed his boyish grin again.

"Ok, we aren't going to fine you, but you're getting this warning here, and if you guys make a racket again, we're gonna get the cops, ya hear? This aint no time to be turning on your rap music so loud!" fatty scolded. And paused and looked straight into Sanjeev's eyes for the 80th time that month indicating that this time he was serious.

Nodding, he thanked the officers for their kindness and promised them that they'd be good for the rest of the night and came back in. As queitly as he could, he went inside the bedrooms and signalled for everyone to leave without making a noise. They couldnt afford another ticket. They already had the previous one to take care of. And so the drunk janti left one by one until it was just the roomates by themselves.

"Ghanta jasto racist security" spat out Sunny, "Yo mula khaire haru ko party hunda chai kahile bust gardaina, hamro ghar ma chai ako ako garcha! Kasto RaatoGhaati". It was true. Not the racist part, but that about him not doing anything to their white neighbours but constantly giving them a hard time. That did make him a little racist.

"Aba dherai party nagarum." Suste spoke softly from the corner of the sofa. They knew he was right. Two whole semesters spent uselessly, wild, drunk. Plus they were getting tired of cleaning up every morning with a hangover. They say you can only lead a horse to the water but not make it drink it. Offcourse you can't, the horse gotta be thirsty first! And to get the horse thirsty a whole lot of work needs to be done. Plus the young heroes had been drinking the wrong liquid all the while.

Change was imminent, one gets tired of repeating the same things over and over again. Suste simply stated the words that had been going around in everyone's head for the past four or five months, he was good at that. Short bursts of meaningful, much needed advice. Thats why he hardly got into an argument with anyone. 1stly, he didnt argue, 2nd no one, that knew him, wanted to argue with him, 3rdly, there was no point arguing with him! Suste was suste, he would just stay silent throughout the debate, expresionless, and in the end, let his silence conquer everything.

So no one said anything when Suste put forth the suggestion to stop partying. They were relieved, it was like an unseen burden taken off their back. After all, why everyone had to come to their apt to drink all the time every friday and saturday, every week, every month, every semester? That was no good! Dharmendra sat, shirtless, near the windows, nibbling on a cheese sandwich that he had just fixed. Deep in thought about the short but enlightening conversation he had recently had with that girl from Kazakhstan he popped the question "Do you guys believe in god?"

Sunny cudnt hold his skepticism in "Yo muzi ajjai till cha jasto cha! Oye kati ota shot hanis aja?"

"Its a simple question demanding a simple answer. Ta kina hero? Anyways my point I'm trying to make is that we dont believe in a god, hence we are free, or rather, think we are free to do whatever we want, without consequences. The absence of god from our thoughts removes the fear of consequences to our actions." Dharmendra shot back placidly.

"Bollywood ko hero bhaneko ta, Gautam buddha po nikelcha!" Sunny replied, "I was born a hindu, but raised catholic, and my girlfriend's buddhist. I simply gave up! Too much things to consider. Ama bau le yo mandir ja, tyo mandir ja matra bhanne, boarding school ma 'praise Him in the morning, praise Him in the noontime' gaunda gaunda wakka bhaye, ani budi le chai je kura lai pani zen jasto philosophy apply gardine. Ma ta baulaunu matra baki cha! I can't take this religion BS man. Maybe later in my life I'll get it, but right now, No Thank You."

Sunny's parents were hardcore orthodox Hindus. They made him, rather forced him, to see the gods as they did through their eyes. It never went well with him. He didn't want to believe something without understanding why he was doing it. On his bartaman, Sunny nearly made the baje cry by asking him too many questions. Nothing could satisfy his curiosity. And when they couldnt give him feasible answers, his hunger grew, but since it couldn't be fed, it metamorphed into spite and sarcasm for the Hindu religion. He openly mocked it. The only reason he went to all those temples was because his mother emotionally blackmailed him to. He did it out of respect for his parents, but he knew, and they knew too, that he couldn't keep doing it forever.

And when he wasn't at home, he was in school, which was most of the time since he went to boarding school. And there, again, he found himself being forced to follow another religion, Christianity. He was fonder of Christianity than Hinduism for reasons of his own, but at one point he started abhorring it as well. Usually in both religions, the practices never went well with Sunny.

And recently, hed fallen in love with girl who was a Buddhist adopter early on! And she had helped shape some of his thoughts using the passive persuasiveness of Buddhist-Zen philosophy. He still didnt like it when someone forced him to do stuff, but since it was his girlfriend, he found ways to overlook it.

Dharmendra was still convinced about his point "We are so uncivilized! Why? Because we dont have a set of rules that we respect and follow. Animals! All of us! I think life would be so much better if we chose one religion and stuck to it, no matter what!"

This drew a sneer from Sunny, but it was Suste who answered "So what do you want us to do?"

"Nothing! But the least you could do is support me" bellowed Dharmendra, "I have taken my decision that from now on I will be a man of religion and live righteously and by the book. My life is going to be much more meaningful and organized from this moment on."

All this while Sanjeev was taking in everything happening around him. Also, he was a tad bit tired from all the events of the night. He didnt want the discussion to carry on into the next morning, as had happened on numerous instances in the past. "So you're going to be a good Hindu from tomorrow and stop eating beef?" he joked, and recieved a couple of chuckles from Suste and Sunny.

"No, I'm not gonna stop eating beef. Remember that Kazak girl I was talking to? I think I like her. We're gonna meet tomorrow. She persuaded me to stop eating pork. I'm going to become a Muslim".




****************End Chapter 3****************
**                          To be continued                           **
*******************************************


Last edited: 30-Jun-09 05:00 PM
Last edited: 30-Jun-09 05:04 PM
Last edited: 21-Jul-09 11:45 AM

 
Posted on 07-09-09 2:39 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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is more coming soon? been waiting for more than a week now!
 
Posted on 07-10-09 2:17 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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lol sry! so ppl DO read em?? dam...ill have to get myself bz now :) haha.

i was just waiting for the weekend.

 
Posted on 07-10-09 3:15 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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Please reconsider the formatting of the text for this reader. It's like reading grandfather's docotrate thesis now. I promise an affirmative reply if you do so.:)

 
Posted on 07-10-09 4:52 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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waiting..........for next part

 
Posted on 07-11-09 1:26 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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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...                    *

******************************************
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:31 AM
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:32 AM
Last edited: 11-Jul-09 01:32 AM

 
Posted on 07-17-09 3:39 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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***************Chapter 5******************

*             Suste's Soliloquy          *

******************************************

Saturday mornings
, for the boys, were, in actuality, Saturday evenings. An inverse to the wisdom of 'early to bed, early to rise', things usualy started stirring around the apartment at around 3pm.

Someone would get up for a glass of water, resign himself to the couch, and stare absentmindedly at the walls till the other roomies shook themselves from their wonderlands.

This time around it was Suste. And he didn't seem all that happy. Noticing Uncle Sam passed out on the couch he let out an inaudible grunt of dissatisfaction at losing his morning throne and resigned himself to the lazy chair instead.

He wore a white 'Vision Streetwear' tshirt and light brown checkered American Eagle shorts. It was breezy outdoors, so he slid the windows open to let in the fresh air. He evidently bore heavy thoughts and was lost in them for a moment while he tried to take in the serene scene of the countryside outside.

Saturdays were usually uneventful days. Frequently people went downtown late nights to socialize at bars, pubs and clubs. A regular Saturday party boy was creepy old Sunil dai. One could spot him at any given club on any given Saturday night, glass of beer in one hand and a box of cigarettes in his other hand, although Sunil dai never smoked. Someone had once asked him as to why he clutched on to that cigarette pack to which an enthused Sunil dai replied "Maile dekhya chu ni. Katti chuwak chuwak khaireni haru churot khanda rehicha tara bichara naani haru sanga kahile ni churot hunndaina. Mero haat ma dekhera, magnu auncha ki? Ani tyaha bata flight kata kata jancha, tyo chai dekhajayega. K thaha green card paunla ki?"

Suste wasnt much of a party animal. He was a halpless romantic. He was a man of very little words, but that void in speech communications was filled up in his diary by Suste himself. Lately he'd been thinking of one particular girl. She eclipsed virtually any other females from entering his mind. He thought the world of her. If only he could tell her that!

Everyone else was asleep, so pouncing on this chance, he took out his trusty black diary from his bag and began writing.

Surreal :

It was. I remember it vividly, yet my thoughts were so clouded, like
I was there, but my mind was numbed and confused as how that came to
be. I don’t remember entering the movie hall, nor do I even remember
what film it was. I found myself sitting in the front row, all empty.
If there were people in there, they sure knew how not to break the pin
drop silence.


Just as the movie started rolling, she slid into the chair behind
me. I didn’t turn, but knew it couldn’t be anyone else. It could have
been anyone, but there was something about the hall, maybe its
ambience, that hinted that I’d already been here before. A classic deja
vu moment.


I could hear her breathing behind me. Something told me she had her
eyes fixated to the back of my neck instead of the screen. I wanted to
turn, but couldn’t, I couldn’t even move. Id turn to stone, maybe a
tree, as I sat there breathless, motionless, my eyes taking in the
pictures flashing on the screen, but my brain unable to process and
comprehend them.


This went on for about a quarter deep into the movie. There was
still pin drop silence in the hall, even the movie, it seemed, belonged
to the silent era. But I could still hear her breathing, the fabric of
her vest stretching as she took in those tiny gulps of air, and when
she exhaled, I could feel the warm vapor breeze past my hair.


And then leaning forward, she introduced herself, and I could
finally move again. She told me her name. I half turned around to smile
and introduce myself. Looking into those shiny stars that were her eyes
I could hear loud rhythmic beats fill up the aural void of the hall. It
sounded very much like…. heartbeats. Mine? Hers? Ours in unison? I was
unable to distinguish. But beating it was. Alive and fierce. And strong
and steady.


As I turned around, I repeated her name in my head. It was familiar,
I just couldn’t put a face to it. The remainder of the movie, we
watched together; laughing together, secretly crying together, sharing
popcorn, I dont know how that came there, but we were sharing it! As
the movie drew to its climactic conclusion, I knew it was time for her
to leave, and me as well. She just said bye, but the way she said it,
she turned that one single word into a throng of poems, with me
deciphering the varying nuances in them.


All I knew, and all I could make out of it, was that, she would come back.


And she did.


Every night, at the same theatre, we would meet, me in front, her
behind, and we’d watch movies, movies about war, love, suspense,
natural disasters, sci fi, you name it, we watched it. As one.


I knew she was beautiful beyond description, even if I’d never seen
her outside the movie hall. Her voice was sonorous to the core, and
tinged with genuinity. There in the darkness of the movie hall, I
didn’t have to turn back to appreciate her beauty while it was flowing
full force to me, from behind, in the form of her luscious voice. It
had the quality of solid gold; rich, bright, and honest. I was washed
away, then and there.


I was hooked, I craved to hear her every night. Waited with baited
breath every night on that lonesome front row seat, to hear her flow
into hers, and start the converse.


We talked more than we watched. We talked about a million things.
Maybe more. But we never talked about ourselves, the cordial movie hall
relation we shared. We didn’t have to, it was implied, it was
understood, like geese fly in a pack without bumping into one another,
it was simple, yet spectacular. But the things we never talked about
grew into a tumor in our hearts.


Unanswered questions arose, digging deeper into our consciences. I
was aware of the burden she carried in her heart. She was aware of
mine. The answer was conclusive, but it still had to be said out
verbatim as our feelings felt. Its only a matter of time, I had said to
myself, before I took the plunge and stepped forward to embrace her.


We still talked, but every now and then, the ugly stain of
unanswered questions smeared our conversations. It was getting
unnerving for the both of us. She was waiting.


All this while, apart from her I noticed only one other soul in the
cave of the theatre. He wore a cherry red down jacket and had his hair
spiked in an eerily exact manner every time I noticed him. And he
always sat next to her, even though I’d never heard them talk or touch.
I think he was Korean.


I waited for a couple more movies to plan my move, while we talked
and laughed. I’d ask her out. I’d grow a pair and ask her out. I’d do
it tonight! After the movie.


The movie ended, the heartbeats skipped down a couple of decibels.
It was getting louder, and faster, and stronger. I groped my way out of
the darkness and into the red exit sign.


Outside, it was blinding. I was in a quadrangle of sorts. Trees,
distanced a couple of meters away from each other, lined a walkway
towards the outside of the theatre compound. There were a lot of people
there as they made their way home after the movie.


Very vaguely, I saw her, from afar, and knew it had to be her. The
red jacketed Korean was strolling by her side. I yelled, called her
name and ran behind her. She turned and gave me a waning smile as she
recognized me. I didn’t waste no words.


She was more beautiful than I’d imagined. I’m at a loss of words to describe.


Running up to her I gave her a warm hug and a quick peck on her
lips. She stood there dazed. “Will you go out with me?” I asked,
expecting her answer.


Instead, tears rolled down her eyes. Even then she was beautiful. “I
was waiting for you love, but you’re a bit too late. I’m sorry.” she
replied glancing at the Korean.


And once again, I was at a loss. Of words, of emotion, of sanity.


And then I woke up.




***************End ofChapter 5*************

*              tbc...                     *

*******************************************

Last edited: 17-Jul-09 03:43 PM
Last edited: 17-Jul-09 03:46 PM
Last edited: 17-Jul-09 03:46 PM

 
Posted on 07-18-09 9:46 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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u can write man! i admire ur efforts
cheers

 
Posted on 07-20-09 8:54 AM     Reply [Subscribe]
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now chapter 5 was something! waiting for more
 
Posted on 07-20-09 2:35 PM     Reply [Subscribe]
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