The First Word

Second part of  "The Story of A Pencil"  First part - A Pencil Which Never Wrote

Falling down in to the lightless abyss, darkness loomed over her. She fell numb with anticipation of a gruesome death she had adored by rolling out of that window. She loosened up herself, let go of all desires and closed her eyes captivating a rolling drop of tear. It went quiet all around her as nothing had ever existed. In her head she prepared herself to depart from this soulless world, which did not understand her value. Her demeanour was serene, but suddenly something did not feel right. A screeching sound cut through her ears, she opened her eyes to be bathed in light and chaos all around her and with a thud she landed down softly. It was opposite of what she had thought, of a hard cold stone in dark and silent abyss. She felt what she had landed on–a lump of shit on top of a garbage pile – “back in the world!” she thought to herself. She tried to roll off the pile and in attempt slipped over a banana peel and went rolling on the concrete road, just to see a hungry and angry tyre of a fat lorry rolling fast towards her. In the nick of time she rolled to the side of the road to save her life. Now, she lay half in a pool of liquids, what they were she did not even want to imagine. Lying there she got a feeling of being watched; she rolled over to look around and was taken aback by a pair of red eyes staring at her. A rat! And a big one at that, almost of the size of a guinea pig; the thought of it nibbling on her made her go sick in the stomach. With all her effort she immediately rolled towards the garbage pile to take cover under a few dry leaves lying around. It seemed a little safer there and night grew darker. After all she had gone through that night, she felt a little better now, the word of one of the boys flashed in her head “It is going to be a helluva night!”, “Indeed it was” she thought to herself, and closed her eyes with the thought that the morning ahead might bring a better life for her. But her predicaments were not over yet. She heard a broom and a "grrr.." and as she opened her eyes all she could see was a pile of garbage falling on and around her from a garbage truck. She sighed, moved and made some room for herself and said “A helluva night, yes! But it will get over.”

But it did not get over! No sun rose the next day. After what felt like a really long time she tried to move about and look beyond, but the pile of garbage above left her no room to move. From some broken bottles and torn newspapers, now and then she heard of news of doom in the outside world. She heard that something so dark and heavy loomed over the city that even the Sun could not penetrate that. A few cans sitting on top of the pile had forwarded the news that hoards of people were taken away in big buses and more in closed boxes! She got news that outside her pile of garbage, the world had grown cold and the air had become stiff to breath; she had experienced that herself at times when a quiet breeze found its way inside the great carnage of household rejects lying over her. She did not know what was happening outside but for certain it was not good. She had heard of the end of the world during her time at the shop but most thought it was just an anecdote. “Did that happen? Was that true?” She could not stop thinking about it all the time, not that she had anything better to do lying in there while the world died outside. “The irony!” she though “it was me who wanted to die!” She was shaken out of her thought with a cold breeze which had found its way inside the warm cocoon she had been living in for what seemed now over a few years. She felt cold; she could tell that Sun was still not out. Yet she got a little curious about the world outside. Despite that she felt protected and safe within that pile of garbage, through the path that the breeze had paved, she slowly and rigorously moved out. The blowing wind outside helped her by slowly and regularly displacing the pile. It took her a few months and she was out in the open

Wide empty roads, the only sound she could hear was that of the wind blowing through lanes. A dead can of soda rolled over somewhere, she heard the cranking sound. Last when she had seen this street it was full of chaos and noise, now it lay dead silent. She rolled around, only to see drying carcass of what once was a big fat rat. For a while she enjoyed an empty world, a safe one for her.

 
It had been long and she had almost forgotten all ills that had happened to her, yet a memory lingered somewhere and she looked up at the window from where she had taken the leap. Under her stare the building shuddered and fell to ground with chunks of mortar & stone sprawling around, to give way to what looked like a big strange jet. It shone like crystal and bore a look of superiority. She could not understand, she had seen a few pictures of jets in an old magazine at the pile, but this was much bigger than any of that.
She could see steps rolling out of an open door and two human like figures in some sort of armour coming out of it. She said to herself “So the world is dead seems to turn out more of a hocus pocus, humans are still here and have just grown more pompous at being that” The bitterness in her speech was apparent.

As they moved close she realized that they were not all same, they probably were different from humans. Not in looks but in their ways. They took out some smart looking gadgets and walked around a bit. She was a little curious and with the help of a breeze moved closer to them. She could hear them talk but did not understand much. One of the men pulled out something which looked like a notepad. He searched his armour suit but could not find what he looked for. He looked around and then their eyes met. He stared for a bit before making his move; he very gracefully picked her up with a gentle hold and wiped her clean on his armour suit. For her it was like a dream, she could not believe what was happening yet she felt a spurt of happiness within.

The man turned her around on the paper and wrote – “First word from the Earth – Human has exterminated its entire race along with all living being on the planet in what looks like an all-embracing nuclear and chemical emission, prima facie. We could neither find any life nor any means on which life could have survived after the accident.” He pulled her away from the paper, had a look at her and then finished his log with the last sentence: “It seems just a pencil has endured”

- Published on Half Baked Beans Tuesday Tales

The Return of The MANmohan

The weather changed on Friday and it started raining reforms! A few from bygone decades saw it as a sequel of 1991 block buster. Plot was well set; monsoon session of parliament washed out, hero was marred with scams and corruption and it was a do or die situation. And, we saw a comeback of a macho; he walked in the frame and played his master strokes – back to back! Hike in diesel price and subsidy cut on LPG, both may be a tough but necessary step to stabilize falling economy. Next day saw more affirmative and for lack of words I would say mesmerizing calls, FDI in Multi – brand retail and aviation industry, and disinvestments. What was even more beautifully done was provision inclusion in single brand retail. Market agreed to the move vehemently with stock soaring high and rupee strengthening. It was a day which went like a dream and left us with a good weekend to celebrate the shower of a Good Friday.

He definitely has had a couple of sleepless night before taking that call. After all, it does look more like a march to martyrdom at first, but did we forget we were dealing with a smart man here. He might have been silent but definitely not moot. He got his formulae correct and words precise. A smart move to leave it on the states to make a localize call when they know that change is inevitable. Now, it is garibup to them whether to give in to the change or sit back and see other states going up, and eventually their own voters asking them why they were kept down.

Oppositions are up but it doesn’t look they will pull the trigger on government this time, after all plot was well set. Bengal is waiting for its own placating package from centre, didi can’t buzz much. Opposition which was crying loud on coalgate till yesterday is not sure which way to go now – stick with their old agenda or bring new one; they will oppose FDI now but finally government will succeed in diluting opposition on both fronts.

Though it was a great Friday, I hope party in not over yet! Tomorrow RBI can top it up with rate cuts and Manmohan government while at it can just add a little more flair by bringing in agricultural reforms and food security bill. Subsidy cut needs to follow up with farmer remuneration rise in some way.  With twenty months left for coming election, the government would want to move fast so that these seeds which they are sowing can give benefits at the right time.

So buckle up to fly Air Asia or who knows may be Emirates on domestic routes and to shop at a Wallmart or Tesco which will be playing “Son of Sardar…” ! 

Bystanders

Not more than a decade ago, they were quite common on narrow streets of towns. With a noose around the neck of their game, they walked through lanes entertaining us. Those madaris were a delight for every kid on a summer afternoon when they had not much other sources of entertainment. Those poor animals showed their antics on call of their madaris, and street was filled with all watching the show. Most enjoyed, some with higher intellect level cursed those madaris for their ill treatment of poor souls and few just saw it as a nuisance on street. We kids were mostly naïve and knew not much about plight of those Bears and Monkeys at the hand of their owners but most others were not bothered, except Dogs, they saw them as encroacher. They barked and fought for every inch of their street until these invaders were out of there. But all other of us in all our capacity and position, curses and opinion, apathy and entertainment were just bystanders, who enjoyed a good show and got on with our lives.

Even after a decade nothing much has changed, we still have the madari with noose and  the poor animal, who dances on his tunes. We still have the street and all those who stood upon it to watch the show. It’s just that show has grown magnanimous. The politicians are madaris today and country is on their noose. They walk in and out of parliament to make a show of their antics. We also are still the same. A lot of us are like kids who know nothing of the plight of nation and most of us are not bothered. A few with intellect sit down with newspaper and finish off with their quota of curses and complaints twice a day in their armchairs. A few high fliers of us see all of it as a big nuisance and just walk away from it.  Occasionally we get some dogs around corners who try to chase these invaders away, but these madaris have learnt to shut them up. Rest of us, in all our capacity and position, curses and opinions, apathy and entertainment are just bystanders, who enjoy a good show and get on with our lives.