Loop Stories - 2

In Sam'sVoice!

It was one of hot and irritating afternoons during my 5th sem exams. Me and Sujith were studying together for the first time. Our everyday schedule was to wake up at 10, have breakfast, come online and chat and scrap till 1, get out of the room, Take shower, read Bangalore times, watch tv till 3, have lunch, sleep till 5, Go out to Buttry and hang up with friends for a smoke and at 7, get back to home and get books and go to Sumith’s home and start to study at 8. Break for dinner at 10 or 11, plan to study for full night but would not study.

That day, Sujith had to attend his cousin’s wedding. So nobody was there in his house. I collected his house key from the buttry and went to his house. I kept watching tv until he returned. He came at 8:30 in the night and he was already stoned. He had packed us food from the wedding. We happily ate it and started to study. Sumith always insist that if you smoke up and study, you’ll remember many things from the book. I never believed in his theory. He lit the first joint and kept releasing smoke in circular shapes. In some instinct he proposed we drink and we got drunk in the next half an hour. I couldn’t study anymore. I dozed off on the bean bag and he on the bed.

I made a promise to him that I’ll wake up at 3 and wake him also up and we shall resume studying. I was not too sure that I’ll wake up. But I woke up at 3 still feeling high. I suddenly felt thirsty and went to kitchen. I knew the last time I switched on the light, the bulb had burst. Feeling guilty for bursting the bulb, I went to the dining room, struggled to climb the dining table and got the bulb from the socket. I brought it to the kitchen and again I had to struggle to get on to the platform next to the stove.

I have visited Sujith’s place a thousand times and I have even cooked on that stove but never before I had noticed there is a window right in front of the stove. It was too windy and I felt chills in my spine. I took a peering view of the whole city from the window. The flat was in 14th floor. I fixed the bulb and got down and tried to see in the window again. I noticed there was a woman. She didn’t look like any ghost. She was a plain woman with hands and legs in the front. She didn’t look like she was trying to scare me. She was just too calm and simple as if she was curious to know how her boy friend’s kitchen looked like or how would he look like in track pants.
I cleared my head and eyes and tried to take another clear look. She was still there cupping her hands around her eyes to see through the windows. I saw kept staring into her eyes. They were beautiful and pitch black. She had a cool radiance. She was probably trying to tell me it was cold outside. I kept seeing into her eyes and I was lost!

The next moment, as if I woke up from deep sleep, I swung into conscious but I was still standing in front of the window. I saw in the window. There was nobody. That moment I knew I am going to screw the next day’s exam.

Loop Stories 1

In Rohith’s voice

At 11 in the night we decided to visit our good old place – Crocodile Lake. The real name for crocodile lake is mallammanahalli kere. When you take left deviation from Kanakapura road at thalagatta pura and ride 6 km, you’ll find this vast lake. It is believed to be haunted or at least jinxed. First time when we went there it was too blood tingling. Only a while after, we got so used to it that we even knew the pits and humps on the mud road.

We left at the midnight collecting our quota of booze and stuff from Krishna bar and when we hit the mud road on the left deviation, it was around 1 AM. We reached the spot and drank and smoked up. It was a beautiful night. Sitting in the cold night by the side of the lake, watching the waters evaporate, Sky full of stars, girl friend, friends, booze and stuff- All made it worth living life for. It made perfect sense that we live to see the miracles happen and I had seen one that night.

As usual- we were high and we decided to return at 3:00 AM. We were 8 men and 3 girls on 3 bikes and a car. Me and my girl friend left late from the lake. The mud road is all bushy. In between there is a thick forest for 3 km and its really scary with tall trees in pin drop silence. Once you enter the forest, it’s totally dark and you would not get to see the sky. That night mild rustling of the leaves was the only sound heard in the whole world. I was riding by my instincts and I happened to hear a new sound. It was like a bell on the cow’s neck. My girl friend also heard it next moment and we turned left to see what it was. To our bewilderment, we saw a small girl-like creature toddling on the hard ground. I saw my girlfriend’s face and she was all scarlet. We both froze that moment. She gestured to hurry. When we reached the main road, we told what we saw to our friends and by then my girl was calm and she started to speak. “Guys Dontya worry. Weh are al high and expected to see things like thyat. Place’s jinxed man…” She was drunk but had not smoked up. She wasn’t really high.

On the main road, all girls got into the car and all guys on the bikes. I always make sure the girls come by car because the cops won’t get them if they are in the car. When guys meet there is automatically a rally. I clutched down the bike and de-geared. The bike hopped once and I led the rally. After racing for 10 km. there is a steep left turn and there are a no. of hoardings on both sides of the curve ranging from ground level- stone size to crane size. Involuntarily I read a few boards and crossed them.

At a small village, I stopped at our usual Lakshmi garage for a smoke and to wait for the others to join. Unusually they joined late and they said they saw a real ghost (?) somewhere.

“Dude, Dude.. didntya see? I saw one man.. man he was like.. like.. wearing all white shirt… like they show in the ujala add dude.. and khaki pants.. He was on the left…dude.. Behind that SVIT board.. His face was… fuck.. fuck.... whatdya say..? Like some weird. Fuck man he was… His tongue was outside his mouth and havinga big knife in his hand… and he looked scary man…He ran to the middle of the road…. As if he wants ta hold us…fuck dude..”

“Watda fuck? Where did ya him dude?”

“Near that ashram cross man… he was real fuck… like the real ghost…ah”

“hey…. lets go and see him man? I want to see him too...comah…?”

“Yo crazy???”

“Lets go dude…”

We started back from there and in two minutes we encountered the car in which my other friends were coming. Even before they could ask why we were heading back, they had a story to tell us. Neha spoke first.

“Guys guys.. Ya know wat uh…? We saw a ghost there near the hoardings…”

“It was like a man….he.. he was holding a big knife.”

“raellyy…??” Guys in my gang were trying to hide their laugh.

“ya man.. He was like all fucked up…Like as if he was trying to get hold of someone”

“how did he look like?”

“He was like…. Like his face was all black. Hmmm…. He wore white shirt.. hmm ya. That shirt was like too bright…. Hmm like its some kinda having tube lights inside”

“and no pants..?”

“I didn’t see… hmmm we didn’t see..”

“and his teeth, tongue hairs… were all creepy.. He looked too ghost like.. fuck that fellow”

“hey but you said he was standing on the right side” I turned to my old guys.

“Ya man he was on the right side.. I saw him first.”

“But these people say he was standing on the left behind the SVIT board.”

“that’s what I told ya dude. Seee.. he is real. I told ya. When we saw him, he was behind the board and he tried to kill us. But he cad not get us. He must’ve crossed the road and waited on the left side.. you are thinking we are high and’ve mistaken some object on the road right ah…??”

“No dude.. I didn’t think that way… okie comah.. lets go and check out?”

We went back to the curve. There was nothing. Nothing at all. We searched for the knife. There was none. We shouted for him. He didn’t return. We begged him to come out. No response.. We pelt stones to the boards. Nothing happened. I felt disappointed. We went home and slept for the next day.

I met my friends in the evening at barista. I had not remembered anything for the whole of last night. They recited the entire story to me. I wondered how naturally we were group-hypnotized: for some of my friends had seen the man with the white shirt on the right side and rest had seen him – the same man with the white shirt and the knife on the left side of the road.

Can this happen to anyone??

Sick (Verb) and Leave

On one of the super duper bench days, our manager was sponsoring a small party at the outskirts of the city for 15 of his favorite subordinates and I was one of them. He had got married and that was the cause for the expensive partying. Like all the Punjabi women, his wife was pretty and extremely sweet. We had all the three meals of the day together. All men drank and women partied and danced. When we were dropped to our houses by our manager at 10:00 PM we were dead tired. I went and threw my bag and buried myself in the bed.

After half an hour of deep sleep, I realized I had two missed calls- one from mom and other from a close friend. I called mom and to my shock, I had promised to visit my cousin’s wedding the next day which I had brutally forgotten. The wedding was in a different city. It would take 3 to 4 hrs to reach there which meant I had to start at 5:30 in the morning to reach there on time. Feeling sick as a dog, I called the other number – a friend whom I told I had to take sick leave but without reason. We started debating the points that could reason enough to grant me sick leave without much questioning by my manager with whom I had caroused for the whole day. I being sick was definitely not a good reason. I was not even drunk to let him think I was hung over.

So we decided to let someone die. First we thought we will let one of the uncles die and I would attend his funeral. My friend suggested the reason is common enough not to believe it. So he suggested we shall let someone commit suicide. We thought fast to makeup a story.

We thought about the names of the victims. The name should be a familiar one like Arun.. Sagar etc. We settled for Sagar. Then the motive for the suicide. My friend suggested, one sagar was writing his notes and he didn’t have ink in his pen, so he got frustrated and committed suicide. Or he was riding his bike on Chamundi hills and he ran out of fuel and felt the best way to reach the petrol bunk was to jump from there.

In the next round he suggested, one Prabhakar was walking on the road and a buffalo hit him from the back and he and the buffalo both died on spot. He said if my manager asks me who Prabhakar, I should tell its Tiger Prabhakar. Sad of Tiger Prabhakar, He died of a road accident with a buffalo.

Then we thought of the Munnabhai reasons like my cousin had lymphosarcoma of the intestine and died. None worked. So we decided we will stick to my unknown uncle die of some cancer. I felt that was best because the next day when I go to office again I dodn’t have to mourn much as death with cancer-ed people is much expected than any teen cousin dying in the road accident.
When we finished finding the reason for sick leave, I was way too tired and I was speaking as if in dreams. My friend made me recite the lie that I would tell in the morning. I made my attempt like this:

My cousin’s suffering from lymphosarcoma of the intestine and he tries to write his biography in a diary but finds there is no ink in his pen so goes out to get ink. On the way to the shop on chamundi hills he finds his bike running out of fuel and jumps in to the air where he meets Tiger Prabhakar. He gets seriously injured and is admitted to the hospital. Hearing this, his father gets a heart attack and dies. And so I am attending the funeral of the father and not the son.