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Sunday, 4 May 2014

TO BE CONTINUED...


CHAPTER I

9:00 P.M. You arrive at the scene of crime. You alight from your car, greeted by the salutes of your subordinates. It is a cold-blooded murder, they say. You make your way up a flight of stairs and find the body lying on the floor, covered in a pool of blood. The clamour of the gathered crowd irritates you. You tell them to shut the f**k up.
9:10 P.M. You start looking around for a clue and accidentally stumble upon a....... The back of your head is suddenly attacked by the atrocity of a rooster crowing.
8:00 A.M. You find yourself scrambling for the snooze button. You shut your eyes desperately trying to get back to the scene. Alas! Your mind comes face to face with a black, blank and seemingly endless wall. Wonder what could have happened next?

CHAPTER II

You go to a friend's place. He says, Have I told you of the time when I was about to get kidnapped?
“No.” (surprised)
“Okay, then let me tell you.
Naturally, you agree. He begins. Your mind gets whipped up into a frenzy. He starts narrating.
“There was this guy sitting beside me in the bus. He was smoking a beedi.”
It had begun pretty much the way you had expected. A shady character in an equally shady setting. By now, your curiosity has reached its crescendo.
“He started talking to people seated right in front of us. It seemed like they were his friends. They didn't look nice people.” (takes a pause)
The plot thickens. You inadvertently adjust your posture expecting a long story.
“They were speaking in a strange language. That guy then looked at me in a rather strange manner.”
“Then??”
“Then…… (unbelievably long pause)………I'll tell you tomorrow.(straight face)
“Are you f***ing kidding me!”
“No. I will tell you tomorrow. Kyun? Dikkat kya hai (Why? What is the problem)??” (a straight face encore)
You cannot believe what just happened. That was ridiculous. You start cursing him. Still, he does not give in to your repeated requests. Alas! There is not much more you can do now.

CHAPTER III

Everyone says it is a great movie. You decide to find out for yourself. You invite your friends too. The ticket seller charges you 120 bucks per ticket. That is fair enough. After all it's a multiplex. It has been quite a long time since you watched a love story. But this one had incredible performances (supposedly) from the cast, won awards, was critically acclaimed and screened in various film festivals (whose names you cannot recall).
The film begins. The actor plays a widower, Mr. M. The actress plays a housewife, Mrs. W, whose married life is anything but happy. She has a school-going daughter too. Your appreciation for the movie grows with each frame. The film gradually builds up to its climax. M parts ways with W. Up until now, you love the movie. But it has not reached its end. A few hundred frames later M realises something is amiss, and decides to persuade W to be a part of his life. But Mrs. W contemplates committing suicide. That’s pretty understandable. M boards a local train, with dreams of his new life drenched in the music of the dabbawaalas. W, meanwhile, packs her bags and leaves home with her daughter.
And out of nowhere, the credits start rolling.
THE END.
The movie has finished. It seems someone has ripped apart a portion of the final reel. Did M reach in time? Alas! Nobody can say for sure. Your disappointment at the lack of closure leaves you in a fit of rage, effectively clouding your appreciation of what has to be said was, in hindsight, great art.


CHAPTER IV

If you have reached thus far, I believe you must have related to at least one of the chapters. Now you think there must be something I, the author, intend to convey. I most certainly do.
But let us keep that for another fine day. Somewhere in the not too distant future.
-Ayush Poddar

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