X & Y

Main Entry: or·thog·o·nal
* Pronunciation: \ȯr-ˈthä-gə-nəl\
* Function: adjective
* Etymology: Middle French, from Latin orthogonius, from Greek orthogōnios, from orth- + gōnia angle — more at -gon
* Date: 1612

1 a : intersecting or lying at right angles b : having perpendicular slopes or tangents at the point of intersection (orthogonal curves)

“Car accident kills three” screamed the morning paper, the mediamen hounded the hapless police commissioner, as he tried to explain that it was a case of reckless driving under the influence of alcohol. The people were served with grotesque images from the crash to prove who has the most ‘exclusive’ news. “Will the police press charges on the lone survivor”, asked one. The son of an industrialist, who categorically denied his son being inebriated at the time of the incident, already boxed after the crash of the pillar at the site of his project, “he had little to do but present a brave face”, commented one social expert citing lack of parental guidance and a plethora of other excuses, while structural experts argued on the other end of spectrum. Cases were filed as expected, sting shows telling how victim’s family was paid to be quiet were aired as expected, the son-father duo came out clean…… as expected…….. justice had been done……as expected…………………

X

“Baba get up, malik bula rahe hain”, the boy stammered wondering would the brat even twitch a muscle, “must have had another of those hangovers”, as he placed the glass of juice on the sidetable before slithering out of the room. “ring …ring”, “ hey karan big party at Elevate just after college what say” “dude, its just 9, just woken up, yeah I’ll see” as he tottered his way to the bathroom knocking down the glass of juice, “chotu” he hollered “clean this mess in my room”, “ damn! The last night rocked” he had tried “stuff” that night, one smooth line inside and out of the world, he was ‘man’ now, he smirked as he got ready for the college. And just what he hadn’t wished, there was Dad again giving out his “perfection” speech to chotu, “damn” he thought now getting money won’t be easy what after all comes in thousand bucks, not even a decent shot! “ Ah! You are up finally, so what do you want end up like these men” “ Dad I am just 19 please don’t gimme your ‘change the world’ talk right in the morning” as he stuffed the toast in his mouth. “Karan, it is my ‘change the world’ shit that gives you your binges, you better straighten up before its late” said the father giving up any hopes he had. “ Dad, I needed some money, college has a freshers’ and all have to chip in”, watching his exasperated father stare at him. “I am not earning for your late night revelry, karan, you better mend your ways, I got this meeting I’ll talk to you later” as the father hurried off the table. “Chotu, just what do you think you are doing staring the roof, did you put the golf kit, you lousy bastard”, as he got into the car wondering what was more worrisome the servants these days or the kids. He had a minister to tackle, the project was already under so many lenses, a few crores and it will be all, why can’t they just ask straightway and ‘get over’ it, as he speeded to the course. Meanwhile karan fretted away to college, wondering how to get away from all this bickering, wondering if he could take some money from ‘friends’, the stuff was too good to resist. So when in the evening he headed to the disc, life was at ease now, as he sunk into the plush sofa, eyes preying for the ‘nigger’.” The night rocked!, you got anything in boot, dude” exclaimed one as they returned back loaded with girls and coke. “holy crap, what’s coke doing in your boot asshole” as he drew neat lines. “Damn chotu, I asked him to get the stuff out of car”, Guys not here not ,here please” as he turned back, “ hey watch out, jesus Christ karannnnnn!!…………………………..”

Y

“ get up chotu its six already you will be late for work”, the father kicked him “ that should set you right”. “why don’t you stop jabbering, I am tired of these daily squabbles”, as he fumed while leaving to his place of work. He changed his clothes after reaching the sahib’s bunglow, “what is the point in dressing like an idiot” as he feared his immaculate sahib and prepared toast for him. “chotu… chotu”, the voice boomed as he rushed to take instructions from ‘malik’. “see whether karan has gotten up or not and take juice as well, I am sure he came late drunk”. He bowed his head and tip-toed to ‘baba’s’ room. “There lies the bastard”, he sneered as he walked into the room, looking for the elusive wallet. He had barely placed the glass and slipped in two crisp 500 notes when he froze to death, “chotu” the voice boomed again, he rushed out only to find that he had applied less butter on the toast, even the tea wasn’t served right. So all he had to do was to stare down as the ‘sahib’ cussed at him. “Ah! There he comes…. Bastard he never knows where his money goes” as he sniggered to himself watching the son nibble toast. “ another chore, damn clean the glass “ as he dragged his feet to the room again thinking if luck would smile again. He picked pieces of glasses watching the fancy mobile on the bed. “ I will gift a mobile to chameli”, thinking about the girl who lived near the site which sahib owned. “ow!” he exclaimed in pain, a piece had sliced though his hand. He went out and stood at the levee nursing his hand wondering whether this life was any good, kicks from father, abuses here, staring pointlessly to the roof. And just when he was thinking of slipping by, he had another dose of the day, that heavy bag which he hated had to be ferried now, “ I can meet chameli now” trying to cheer himself up as now ‘malik’ would get busy and he can slip to the site which was so close to the course. So as he lugged the kit along the course, he was asked to leave as ‘sahib’ was talking to an important man. “This is it” as he ran out of the course took an auto to the site. Today he will buy her a fancy dress, he had money. The urchins chased the auto as he entered the lane where chameli lived. “ lets go market and get an anklet for you” he exclaimed to her. So after an hour of trying the trinket chameli found what she was looking for. He was the man!, he had a decent job, money everything she wanted, so when he asked her to come to that lonely place at the site she had little to do but to solicit. And then there they were finally, the place was an irony in itself, so quite and desolate amidst a sea of anarchy. She had heard that work had been stopped there and that’s how she had found a place to meet her, where chotu would come and satiate her. He had just started to undress her when she heard a slow, painful guttural, and before she could reckon…………………………..

4 comments:

  1. Siddharth Singh said...

    its a very un-surreal, un-bizzare story with detached narration...
    just wondering whether this trend of casting characters in an ekdum Human mould in Dev D style will render us ekdum objective in our assessment...both the protagonists are less of a character and more of the caricature of their circumstances ..this could be a new genre of fiction where creative liberty is a mere mistress of hard detached factual crunching..i felt line between class conscience have been again torn open and this time narrator didn't give poor guy recluse in his penury rather "gareeb ka imaan " thing has been ruthlessly surrogated with "gareeb ka dimag" ,he might be a victim of his poverty but in a refreshing rendition ,the glorification of his disease has been clinically avoided ..again excuse me if i felt an iota of sympathy with the spoilt brat..rather than being a sly devil his ways suggest a disoriented zombie..at the point of intersection its not just the incident that binds them...an undercurrent of seemingly apart and intrinsically cohesive force of circumstances had already uncorked this heady cocktail of events...if you can extrapolate this newly explored niche of yours sans any pedantic commentary just like this current post ,i would be more than eager to see your choice of subjects...needless to say,its a tough job just because its a phenomenon slowly creeping into the critical appreciation and that too only now with grey not being a 'bad' color any more... all the best...  

  2. Tarang said...

    @ siddharth sir:
    that was far too generous assessment of you sir!!!, wish i had thought that much while writing it...  

  3. Siddharth Singh said...
    This comment has been removed by the author.
  4. Siddharth Singh said...

    it comes 'naturally' to u then..i guess :P