It wasn’t daybreak yet.

I wasn’t man yet. I desperately wanted to be a man. I hated being a boy. I was still two years from that glorious Adult mark. I hated the wait.

My elder sister loved my agony. She was all of eighteen. She could vote in the assembly elections. The day she came back home after exercising her voting right, I didn’t talk to her. That black mark on her index finger was constantly ripping me apart. She could contribute her two cents to the country. I, on the other hand did absolutely nothing to change anything.

I stepped up the speed. The bicycle responded beautifully. It was an age old Herculus bicycle. My grandfather bought it in 1932 from his friend. Even after sixty years of relentless usage, the bicycle had shown no signs of giving up.

The cool breeze was refreshing. It was the river’s way of welcoming me everyday. She wanted to talk to me always. In fact she did. However I rarely listened to her. The ripples carried messages. I never looked at them. In all probability she was in love with me.

But I didn’t want to love rivers. I wanted to love Sandhya. So I didn’t pay much attention to the river’s advances. Nowadays she was not so friendly. Perhaps she had understood where my heart was.

Sandhya was swallowed by the river a month ago. I blamed it on jealousy. My friends said it was an accident.

I didn’t care. I knew the river could do anything. She was like a majestic Queen. She wanted all the villagers to be on Her Majesty’s Royal Service. If anyone went against the tide, he or she would be punished by the river.

The river thought I would start loving her if Sandhya was removed from the picture. Poor little river! It didn’t know that I wouldn’t even look at her. So what if Sandhya wasn’t alive any more. Her image was still afresh in my memory. From my point of view, she was still in front of me. I could see her image clearly. I knew it was all my imagination. However I didn’t consider reality and imagination to be mutually exclusive. At the grassroots level, it was just information sent to our brain. Shouldn’t matter if it was the eye that sent her image or the mind! In my reference frame Sandhya was alive.

She smiled, “What? The boundaries between logic and desire disappearing?”

Sandhya in fact was not a very sharp girl. I knew it was part of my mind talking like Sandhya. But I liked it. I wanted her to be intelligent. I knew my mind wanted me to have a conversation with Sandhya.

“Not exactly. For me, you are real. As real as our villain here – the river.”

The river swirled in protest. I didn’t care.

Sandhya laughed. “Oh my! You are going mad.”

I nodded. Yes madam. Mad about you.

“Why not look at something more real? Like for instance, Nivedita from B-section?” She asked me.

Nivedita was the uncrowned Miss Universe as per the youngsters of my village. However she never even looked at me. I hated her arrogance. So what if she looked like Aishwarya Rai, she could never be Sandhya.

“Why is this fascination? You should move on Yaji.” Sandhya told me gently.

I shook my head.

“You can’t marry me. What is the point then?”

I stared at her. I would have married her if I were not fifteen. I wanted to wait till I became a Man. The wretched river spoiled all my plans. The river would surely propose on the very day of my eighteenth birthday. I would bet my life on it.

“Yaji, What are you doing here? Amma would be searching for you. Go home.”

I looked up in disbelief. This couldn’t be Sandhya talking.

My sister was looking at me seriously. Sandhya had disappeared.

“What are YOU doing here?” I asked her. It was too early to go to college.

“None of your business honey!” She smiled, “But I will tell you anyway. I am going away. I am eloping with my boyfriend. I will see you later.”

I was aghast. From the clearing mist I could see the silhouette of a man. “Nagarajam?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Or was it my mind playing games with me?

“Yes honey. It is Nagarajam – Karanam’s eldest son.” She confirmed the reality.

I didn’t understand. Why should they elope? They could get married here itself.

“You are still a kid Yaji. He is not a Brahmin. Our folks will never agree to this match.”

She hugged me and kissed me on my forehead. “Study well and get out of this frog’s well. Sandhya is history Yaji. She is not coming back. You have to cross the river and explore the world. God willing, I will see you again.”

She left amidst tears. I waved them off. The river took complete control of them. I knew it wouldn’t harm them. It had this animosity only with me.

“Let us do it.” Sandhya appeared from nowhere. “Let us also run away.”

“What? Hello! I am fifteen.” I was angry with myself for being a kid.

“That is enough for me Yaji. You are cute and clever. You are witty and intelligent. We can survive. Let us cross over Yaji. Let us just cross over.”

I shook my head violently. I was hearing voices. My head was splitting. And suddenly it all subsided. I opened my eyes. The river smiled at me. Sandhya was expecting me to say something. The ripples came till the shore hoping to get some ear on our conversation and went back disappointed because we talked through our mind. And our mind was just one mind. My mind.

Sandhya walked towards my bicycle. “Give me a ride. Will ya?”

I nodded. She hopped onto the bicycle. I started pedaling. We came to a bridge. I had never seen it before.

“How come I never saw this bridge before?” I asked Sandhya.

She laughed, “Because you are a kid Yaji. Kids don’t know many things.”

“You are also not an adult. You are just a year older than me.” I reminded her.

“The scale is different for girls Yaji. Don’t worry about it.” She said.

We both stared at the bridge for a very long time. The sun was witnessing all these – crimson red in color… not because of the romance involved.

She got off the bicycle and ran towards the bridge. “Careful” I shouted.

She stopped and blew me a kiss. “Come to me Yaji. I will show you the heaven.”

She looked absolutely stunning in her dazzling white salwar kameez. I could see an open invitation in her beautiful eyes. I forgot everything.

“Wait. I am coming” I said and steered my bicycle onto the bridge.

The river smiled. First gently and then victoriously.

The End.

Pokiri

Before I start my review I would like to thank GL mama for getting me a ticket.

Jayaprada theatre in Chennai was a sight to behold today. The crowd was simply unstoppable with fans dancing on the seats – well for exactly the first five minutes. Then they went relatively silent unsure of whether the fight they were watching would get over before the interval break or not.

Let us leave such unending fights aside for a moment. I would like talk about the Devuda song. It has been quite some time since I watched anything of such quality. Cinematography at its best – excellent camera movements and some nice steps by the leading man. This song stands apart from the rest of the songs – save the last song.

I wanted to write about the songs too. But alas! I don’t remember any of them now. I don’t even remember the leading scenes for most of those songs. The film has at least two songs that can be cut easily.

Mahesh had the best lines and the best character sketch in the movie. Poori Jagannath obviously spent quite a gazillion years working on Mahesh Babu’s role. It is a pity then that he didn’t spend an iota of that effort in sketching the other characters which pass off as merely one dimensional and in some cases – like Venu Madhav and Ali – zero dimensional.

Poori Jagannath’s fascination with totally unnecessary villains continue in this movie too. Like songs, two villain roles can be safely cut. Prakash Raj need not be living outside the country. He can very well be in India for this story. And that would have made things simpler for the viewers.

A few years back, there was a Tamil movie called Run. It holds a record of sorts in the tinsel world. The comedy track in that movie had absolutely no connection with the main thread. The characters did not overlap. There were no common scenes. It was just a digital switch between the highway and the parallel dust track.

The comedy track in this movie comes very close to that. The sad part is that it falls flat. There is something called the Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility which the director was perhaps unaware of. He kept on barking on the same concept again and again and again and again. By the time the comedy track entered its climax – viewers in the movie hall were actually groaning in frustration.

Ileana – the hourglass lady – A future bollywood prospect – With a figure like that she is not gonna be with Tollywood for long. One of the reasons I was so looking forward to this movie was Ileana. I missed her in Devdas. One of my friends then sent me her photos through email. (He incidentally liked this movie very much.) I was stumped. I was floored. I scolded myself for not watching Devdas. When I found that Pokiri had Ileana, I was determined to see it at least twice.

Oh but what a disappointment it has been! Ileana sure was gorgeous. In fact I am all for awarding her the second place after Sonali Bendre. However the director failed to capitalize on her craze. She has not been presented properly in this movie. I don’t mean that she should expose. There are ways to show a lady beautifully. Take Sneha in Radha Gopalam or Bhoomika in Missamma. Those characters stay etched in memory forever. Poori Jagannath had the best looking girl in the industry at his disposal. What does he do? He resorts to rapid fire editing in duets! Give me a break man. I want to properly ogle at Ileana. You take her off the scene in like 0.02 nano seconds.

Let me come back to the fights, the fights that never end. If trimmed properly, these are really comparable to Hollywood stunts. Breathtaking visualization, cinematography, smooth transition between scenes – all wasted because all these keep on happening for an eternity.

This movie has all the ingredients to satisfy the fans. However it has a serious problem. There is absolutely nothing in the movie for the family audience. There is no romance worth speaking of, no sentiment at all and the action scenes are extremely gory. We have knifes protruding from human heads. In my opinion this can be a potential threat to the movie after the first two weeks. (That’s when the normal audience start coming to the theatres)

Poori Jagannath should seriously think about where he wants to place his loyalties. If he wants a slick Hollywood action thriller, he should do away with two songs, trim the fights and cut the comedy track entirely. If he is also looking to satisfy family audience, he should reduce the violence and build the relationship between Mahesh and Ileana on a deeper scale with a sustained focus on romance.

As it stands out, cardboard characters are aplenty in the movie with just one well rounded personality – Mahesh Babu. Fans will be happy. Action movie fans will relish this. But then, does it have a future after the third week? Remains to be seen!

Platy.

Veerabhadra

Disclaimer: This is not a review of the movie. This is just what I personally feel about the movie. Since it is a personal opinion, the write up will definitely be pretentious and condescending at places. Please note that it is better to go with real reviews and not personal opinions like this - if you are trying to judge if this is a movie really worth watching.

Strange are the preconceived notions of human beings. Not even once in the last one month have I thought that I would find myself watching Veerabhadra on the very first day of its release. The possibility itself did not cross my mind at all. However four days back, when I saw that it was on the marquee in the best theatre of Chennai, I decided to book the ticket.

Veerabhadra works. It may not be the best movie around these days. However it is honest to itself, has a tight script, a gripping screenplay and zero boring moments. The story is not anything remotely new. However the treatment is pretty good. All the actors did justice to their roles. To my surprise even the songs which normally take a backseat in any Balakrishna movie are refreshingly good except for the last song. Yedukondalu song is the pick of the lot. There are a couple of melodious numbers which are shot very well and recorded nicely. Rerecording by Mani is pretty good.

The story has a little bit of everything. However the director takes care of the emotions very well. An emotionally charged scene is immediately followed by a wisecrack remark by M S Narayana and the tension is eased up.

A special mention should go to Peter Haynes. The fights till the climax are extraordinary. There is some thread work but it was minimal. The power conveyed by the choreography of these fights tells us that given proper direction, Peter Haynes could work miracles. In stark contrast the climax reminds one of the Samara Sinha Reddy or Narasimha Naidu fights. I am not exactly aware of the reason why PH had been replaced by the other stunts man for the climax fight. The difference shows pretty clearly on the screen.

That brings us to Balakrishna, the man who single handedly drives the show right from the very innovative and enjoyable title entry. It is clear that he has put in more than 100% into this movie. At times I really felt pity on him - especially during the songs. He tried hard to manage some really difficult steps - like the one where he has to lie on the floor and make a 360 degree sweep. I really don't think Balakrishna should attempt such steps at this juncture of his career. It really really looked awkward. He doesn't need to prove that he is good at dancing. He should stick to what he is really good at.

And he excels in his forte. Take for instance the much talked about and sometimes laughed about dialogue: \i{"Rakhtam lo uDakapeDutha"} and \i{"Narikaanante, mukkalu erukodaaniki rendu rojulu paDuthundi"} (Not the exact words). When delivered by Balakrishna in the context of the scene, they are really powerful and do not seem out of place at all.

That is one of the plus points of the movie. At no place you'll feel that the dialogues were written keeping Balakrishna in mind. It all blends quite nicely into the screenplay. Balakrishna's histrionics and voice modulation then take them to the next level.

First half of the movie is immensely enjoyable. My opinion on the second half is that the sentiment factor has gone overboard. However it may click with the family audience. A little bit of trimming here and there would have definitely helped the movie.

The movie falls well short of expectations in the department of editing. That is putting it mildly. In the first half Editing is really awful. The transition between scenes is almost always very abrupt. I had to actually put 2 and 2 together to understand what was happening on the screen.

Prakash Raj is the surprise packet. These days I see him only as a larger than life villain. In this movie, he has a three dimensional role and gets a chance to act - instead of shouting dialogues. He essays all the emotions quite nicely and underplays his character to perfection.

Shayaji Shinde on the other hand is unbearably loud - always shouting at 130 decibels. Someone needs to tell this guy that it is getting repetitive these days.

On the whole, Veerabhadra is a nice movie - worth watching once at least. The way the story unfolds at breakneck speed and the high number of non overlapping incidents give this movie some repeat value.

Balakrishna delivers a better movie this time. Whether it becomes a decent hit or not - Only time will tell.

Monday, 14 August 2006

The dog probably died last night. The head was totally gone. Its four legs were up in the air.

“My God” murmured Steve Sanders. He almost ran over the dead dog. The disc brakes of his bike helped him avoid that unpleasant encounter. He stopped the bike and stared at the dog.

Five minutes later, Darren Gough coughed, “Dude, if you are done appreciating the beauty of death, can we move along? We are already late to work.”

“How can you be so insensitive?” Steve gave his partner a stern look, “Do you know how many such dogs and cats die everyday on the highways? The rascals driving those buses and cars and trucks.”

“And bikes and cycles” Darren interrupted Steve’s angry lecture, “The point is Steve, the trucks or the cars you are talking about haven’t strayed into Gir forest and ran over black bucks. Have they? Highway is a vehicle territory. The dogs have no business wandering sleepily on this high energy zone.”

“You are sick man” Steve started the bike, “I am gonna work with Blue Cross and see that the number of such deaths come down drastically.”

“How? Are you going to build fences along all national and rural highways?” Darren was curious.

“Very funny. I know my limitations. I just want to educate the drivers that these animals deserve better treatment. If you see a dog on the highway, you apply brakes; wait for the dog to cross the road and then start the vehicle. It is simple, right? I don’t know why most people don’t do this.”

They reached office. Thirty minutes later, there was a frantic call from Steve to Darren.

“Dude! How do I get in touch with Blue Cross?”

“Simple, talk to Maneka Gandhi”

“Yaar! I am serious.”

“Ok talk to Amala”

“Amala who?”

“Nagarjuna’s wife. South Indian superstar.”

“You mean Telugu superstar?”

“Yes of course.”

“Yaar. I did everything I could do to join Blue Cross but it is not accessible at all.”

“Really? In thirty minutes you have tried and exhausted all the avenues?”

“Yes yaar! I have been Googling and Wikipeding for the last twenty five minutes. I could get some phone numbers and email ids. I sent an email to one of those IDs.”

“Good! Let us wait for a response.”

“Yes. Actually I can sleep peacefully now that I have contributed by two cents to the welfare of dogs straying on the highways.”

“You rock man.”

“No way. I am just doing my duty as a responsible citizen of India.”

Tuesday 15^th August 2006

Steve laughed loudly. The entire wing stopped all its work and stared at him.

Embarrassed, he apologized, “Nothing. Just that my client thought I was American.”

Darren smiled, “Name?”

“Yes. I don’t know why my parents named me Steve Sanders. It doesn’t fit in India.”

“Same feelings here too. Whoever I mail, they think we are English or American. When they come to know that I am from Palakollu and you are from Palakkad, they go crazy!”

Steve nodded and hit the Send/Receive button on his Outlook session.

“Yaar! No mail till now from Blue Cross. This is crazy.”

“That is the sad state of affairs in India man! What can we do? Corruption is everywhere. Let us get out of here yaar. Bahut hogaya. Let us go watch a movie.”

“Great idea.”

They hopped on the bike and sped towards PVR Cinemas.

“Only Rang De Basanti is available.”

“Ok. No issues. I don’t actually hate Aamir Khan.”

Three and a half hours later, a dazed Steve shook his head, “I want to do something for this country.”

An equally dazed Darren nodded, “I feel so restless now. Something needs to be done to improve India. I hate politicians. I hate corruption.”

Steve was determined. “We shouldn’t aim for the impossible. Whatever we want to do, it should be tangible.”

“Yes it should be” Darren agreed.

“Maybe after twenty five years, we will be able to get into the Parliament. But now, we should work at the grassroots level.”

Darren patted his friend. “You are truly an asset to India man.”

Just then they witnessed a motorcycle trip over a pothole on the highway to their office.

Steve and Darren rushed to the spot and helped the rider get back on the bike.

“This road should have been repaired by December last year. All I see is a couple of piles of sand on either side of the road. Look at the pathetic condition.” Steve was furious.

Darren thought for a moment, “Maybe this is our calling. We should talk to the authorities, stage a demonstration and get this road repaired. It will help everyone on the grassroots level.”

“Brilliant idea” Steve couldn’t hide his excitement, “I will be at it as soon as we get back to work.”

Wednesday 16^th August 2006

“Yaar I got a mail from Blue Cross.” Steve said.

“Cool man. So your Save Highway Dogs campaign is all set to start?”

“No yaar. I am thinking about it. I think we need to properly channelize our efforts to optimally use the resources.”

“Meaning?”

“I think we should look at the larger picture. See, yesterday we decided to work on the repair of our office highway. I think that is more grassroots than this dog campaign.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Now that you mention it, I feel the same way yaar.”

“Yeah! So I just marked the email as important and stored it in my personal folders. I will get back to it once I am done with this highway project.”

“Have you figured out what to do?”

“Yes.” Steve said with a smile on his face, “Have you heard about the Right to Information act?”

“Right to What?”

“Information. A new act. If you ask for the status of any project or anything in this country through the proper channel, you are going to get a response. Otherwise it is breach of law.”

“So?”

“I am going to exercise this right to get the latest status of this highway project and why there is a delay in its completion.”

Two hours later, a visibly dejected Steve stormed into Darren’s cubicle and declared that India was going to dogs.

“What happened?” Darren asked him.

“Nothing. I talked to the project director. Told him that I wanted some information on why there was a delay in completing project. He told me he wouldn’t tell me anything. I explained that I had a right to ask for information. I quoted The Right to Information act. He was like, ‘Right to what?’”

Darren thought for a moment, “I know a judge. I will ask him what the proper procedure of invoking this act is.”

“I am disappointed yaar.” Steve slumped into the chair.

Darren tried calling the judge. “He is not picking it up. Maybe he is not in town.”

Thursday 17^th August 2006

“You know what?” Steve was excited, “Genelia talked to me today.”

“What? You kidding right?” Darren was jealous.

“No man. She talked to me today. Her module actually had some issues she was unable to resolve… some Java beans stuff and I solved them for her. She was blown away.”

“So?”

“So I asked her for a treat and she readily agreed. We are going to Tumhara Naam Kya Hai tomorrow?”

“Tumhara Naam Kya Hai? What is it?”

“Arre yaar! Latest Hindi romantic movie. See ya later.”

“Wait” Darren pulled out a sheet of paper from his bag, “This is the procedure to invoke that Right to Information act. I got it from the judge.”

Steve pocketed it hurriedly. “Yes. Thanks. I will look into it later. For now, I have a girl to take care of.”

Friday 18^th August 2006

They both stared at the uprooted tree.

“I feel so sad” Genelia said “when I see trees getting uprooted just because some bonehead somewhere wanted to expand some road.”

Steve nodded, “Yes this is why the temperature of Earth is increasing at the rate of 1 degree per century. I think so. Read somewhere.”

“We should do something about this Steve. We should protest cutting down these highway trees. Who wants a six lane road? We want a healthy atmosphere for our kids.”

“Our kids?” Steve couldn’t hide his surprise.

Genelia smiled warmly.

“Eureka!” he shouted, “I will ensure that no trees are cut down from now onwards. Do you know the phone number of Green Peace?”

The End.

Pull the plug

I stared at him. His eyes told it very clearly. Pull the plug Goddamnit!

Fifteen years back, when I first met him outside our college – he tried to sell me a credit card. I patiently explained to him that college kids normally didn’t qualify for credit card offers. Probably he was standing at the wrong gate. There was an IT company right opposite to our college.

“Oh Yeah! Sorry madam. I on the wrong gate.” He was embarrassed.

“That’s why the chicken crossed the road!” I replied.

We hit it off. He was a graduate – passed the course in his third attempt. While his English was pidgin, his Tamil was equally bad.

“Thirukkurala? Kettadillaiye?” He said the other day. I told him all about the great Thiruvalluvar including the saint’s statue near Vivekananda Rock off the coast of Kanyakumari.

He was perhaps the only Tamilian who hadn’t heard of Thiruvalluvar until then.

“How you know him? You are Telugu no?” He asked me immediately.

“Yes! But I have been in Tamil Nadu for the last four years.” I said.

We got married three years later. Our parents died long back. So there was no one to protest. We went to a priest, spent some five thousand rupees and became a couple.

“Singaperumal Koil vandaacchu. Get down.” He woke me up. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and peered outside. The vibrant village of Singaperumal Koil was just waking up.

I alighted from the bus and waved him off. He was traveling to his hometown near Madhurai. I worked in a software company near Singaperumal Koil.

Please, pull the plug you idiot!

The message was clear. I knew I had to do it. In fact I wanted to do it. I wanted to walk out of the room with a sense of accomplishment.

It was a cat as per the eyewitnesses.

The driver wanted to avoid, of all things in this world, a cat; a cat with three legs.

The result was that the cat lived to tell the tale all the three legs intact. The bus plunged into the river. The driver was never seen again. My man took the impact on his spinal chord.

“What can I say – It is a wonder he is still breathing. But he is completely paralyzed. He cannot even hear anything. Only his eyesight is functioning normally.”

I tried hard not to cry. I missed a shoulder to cry on.

“When will he be normal doctor?” I asked him.

He replied with silence.

“Will he ever be normal doctor?” I persisted even though the answer was pretty evident to me.

It took me quite a while to accept the situation. My man was going to be like this for the rest of his life. He would wake up everyday and stare at the ceiling. He would do that for twelve hours with brief spells of unconsciousness in between. He would try to talk through his eyes. I could see the pain, the frustration, the confusion and finally the nirvana – His eyes, those hazel ones I fell for, were the window to his soul. I understood his thoughts comprehensively. We talked as if we were chatting in his favorite Tea shop right outside our one room apartment in Velachery.

And one day he appeared more serious than he ever was.

It can’t continue like this.

Why not?

Our bank balance is zero. No money to pay.

I will do something.

What?

I will think of something. I can do anything for you.

Be practical.

No! I don’t want to be practical here. I want to be just myself. I want to talk to you like this everyday – No TV to disturb us. No calls for HSBC.

How pay for treatment? We don’t have anything.

I will manage. I can manage. I will go to my relatives.

His eyes smiled. He knew I was talking without thinking. I looked away to hide my tears.

He slept. I stared at him. The moonlight was sneaking into the room. I knew I wouldn’t be able to extract a penny from any of my relatives. I knew it was the end of the road for me. I knew what was in store. I knew everything. The only thing I didn’t know was how to accept the facts.

Pull the plug

My conscience roared again. It’s best for him. Rid him off this miserable life.

That night I withdrew two hundred rupees from the ATM and decided not to have a printout of the transaction. I was not ready to see the remaining balance of my account. I just walked on the road – at ten in the night. The beach was deserted. I sat there on the sand watching the waves – the reflection of the moon, the ships emerging victorious from the horizon.

Pull the plug

I stood up and started walking into the sea. Pull the plug. All because of a three legged cat. The water was icy. Don’t you know it is the end of the world. It ended when you said Goodbye!

I was angry. I was furious. I didn’t know whom to blame for wrecking my wonderful life. The cat? The driver? My bank balance? I wanted to kill somebody. I wanted to take revenge. I had to find a channel to vent my anger. It was building up inside me uncontrollably.

Twenty years before, I found myself in a similar situation. It was my pet cat. It came under a speeding motorcycle. Fortunately the rider was not injured. My cat however was almost crushed. The Vet shook his head and declared that it had to be put to sleep.

“Why? She is still alive.” I cried.

“She will lead a life of misery Tanya. It is in her best interests that we have to do this.” My father tried to reason with me.

“Go away. No one touches her.” I shouted with tears rolling down my cheeks.

My mother locked me up in the bedroom when the cat was given the injection. I cried for two days. I had never really recovered from that shock. I had not been able to understand our Vet’s reasoning.

Ten years later, my parents went on a tour to Kashmir. They wanted to see Dal lake. I was in a boarding school then. I begged them to take me with them. However they didn’t agree. It was a celebration of their twentieth wedding anniversary and they wanted to spend it alone.

The night they left, I cried for hours. The fact that I was not considered as an integral part of their marriage hit me very badly.

I hated them. When my uncle – the one who had never bothered to visit us till then – broke the news that my parents would never come back from Kashmir, I was silent. I didn’t feel like crying.

My life had since then undergone sweeping changes. No one wanted to take care of me. I found myself at the mercy of the orphanage next door.

The water was inviting. Just a couple of steps more and I would be history. As I was about to take those two steps, I heard his voice in my mind.

If you kill yourself, who will talk to me my dear?

I stopped. Who will talk to me?

Next morning I went to that place near Thindivanam where the accident happened.

“Where is that cat?” I asked the police inspector.

He didn’t ask me why I wanted that cat. He knew my plight. “Saravana” he called his head constable.

It took us just about half an hour to locate the cat. We found it in the slums. It was by then a very famous cat. The cat that killed thirty, injured ten and immobilized one.

“Madam, Anbe Sivam paatthengala?” Saravanan asked me. I nodded. I did see that movie. I knew what he was thinking. It was a dog there. The coincidence was killing me.

I took the cat in my hands. Taxo plasmosis. Put it down. I could almost here my man screaming from the hospital. I only told him how dangerous cats could be. Taxo Plasmosis could create grave complications during pregnancy. Cats carried the bacteria Taxi Plasma Gondi. I loved cats. He started despising them after this revelation.

“If it is dangerous I don’t want it in home.” He declared firmly.

I didn’t foresee that it could be this dangerous. Forget Taxo whatever, the cat did take its toll.

“Madam, Enna paNNapporenga?” Saravanan asked me curiously.

I smiled and took a butcher knife out.

Saravanan screamed, “No!”

I kept on smiling. The cat’s head was the first target. Then I attacked those three legs. Finally I worked on its tail.

“My God! Kadavule! Ayyo paavam” Saravanan vomited.

I showed the knife to him, “Don’t sympathize with the cat.”

“But what did it do?”

“It derailed my life Saravanan. I know it was not the cat’s mistake. I know I acted in a barbarous way. However I needed to kill it. It was something that could bring closure to the turmoil in my life. My mind is now clear. I know what to do.”

Saravanan was aghast.

“Where can I find the driver of the bus?” I asked him.

It gave him a jolt. “No madam No! He went missing. We don’t know where he is.”

I handed my visiting card to him. “Do me a favor Saravanan, give me a call if you hear anything about him.”

When I boarded the bus back to Chennai – I just couldn’t wait to get to the hospital.

Pull the plug

I will my dear I will. Can’t wait to do it now.

The End.