The Call of Duty

I.

He stood there, very still. His head was heavy, not from thoughts, but from the almost rhythmic drumming of rain drops on his scalp. His blazer, which was reminiscent of something a public school student prides and cherishes, was heavy as well. The wool had allowed water to seep through and drenching his shirt to reach his bare skin underneath. His tie, a fine pattern of red and white, was suffocating him. It was a knot, he has particularly worked hard at, for it was the first time he had knotted it that way. The watchful eye of the warden in the corridor ensures his obedience. There was no way he could undo his tie, even for a little bit. His trousers soaked, his shoes now filling with water. But, he must not move. For if he did, he knew there were far worse things in store. His hands now clenched into a fist, he becomes the rightful epitome of his school's heritage. Unflinching and unmoved in his resolve to see this punishment through.

His thoughts began wandering to the incident that led to his temporary purgatory. His tenure in this school had never seen an incident for which a student was even harshly reprimanded, let alone stand tortuously in the rain. For any reason, his crime did not equate with his punishment.He stared with angst at the piece of cloth that now rested inside, away from the rain, for someone deemed it disrespectful to let it be in the rain.

His time of punishment almost over, he realized, there wasn't a lesson to be learnt here. Just never to disrespect  that banner. A simple flag that would never matter to him ever in life and the attachment that it had to folk around him was so silly, it wasn't even right to give it credence.

He suffers in silence.
The warden decides, the boy has had enough.
He calls the boy and without another word, dismisses him.

Once in the corridor, he shakes off some of the precipitation from his uniform and adamant to the end, shows little remorse for his action. His head is held high and his shoulders straight as he walks by the stand, where the flag, completely dry, keeps watch. He sneers at it and walks to his room, his tie still knotted.


II.

His numbers were failing him. He knew, at that moment, he did not have enough men. His mission was ahead of him and  through the operations at night, he had lost half. The words of his instructor resounded like  howitzers in his ears, " The platoon is every officer's first command. It is the first time an officer comes into combat with a group of men, whose responsibility he bears". He had failed his men so far. Also been told , that causalities are a part of battle and that an officer should have a clear head to get the job done. He should be prepared to do what is necessary in the face of overwhelming odds. He knew the words, they did him no good here. He was cold, starved and injured. There was nothing he wouldn't do as a person to be somewhere else.

He, however, did not have that luxury. For at that moment, the academy credo comes to mind. The words of the Army that are like scripture. " Country First".

All other things are secondary to him now. He holds his rifle with a silent resolve, garners every ounce of strength that comes from his bleeding legs and stands. His men should see him. His men should know. He is their platoon leader and lead he shall. For he is an Infantryman. And anyone who knows anything, Infantry knows only one way. Forward.

He turns, smiles at his men, fixes his bayonet and says " Follow me ".


With madness he charges, his men in formation behind him. His column emerges from the fog into the wee hours of morning. The enemy caught unawares, turns and fires. With the mud, human grit touches a pinnacle, as the officer leads the charge pinching his bayonet into the first of the enemy. The order of the battle was simple to his spartan ears. It was kill or die. His staccato diminishes enemy numbers and yet he sees his men fall. The numbers are too much for one single man, but that man will not give up. Till his last breath he shall fight because, it is only the country that he fights for. And so he does. Until the very last of the enemy falls, his bayonet doesn't lose the color red. It is emblazoned with a shade of crimson that only a warrior recognizes. He surveys his field, knowing that the enemy has been vanquished. He looks at his men, only 5 remain from twenty, the night before. There are wounded he must attend to. He too is bleeding from bullet wounds but he pays no heed. Quickly dispatching orders to tend to the wounded, he sets up a defensive line across the post. There is a particular lack of oxygen that now stings him, reminding him of the task accomplished. Once he makes sure that the site is secure, he removes his backpack and unzips it, taking out the national colors.

He cannot walk, yet he seeks no help from his comrade-at-arms. He stumbles and falls many times, his breath still heavy from the morning mist, for at this altitude every little action becomes laborious. He summons every vestige of his strength to climb the final rock and wraps his country's flag on a pole to hoist it over the lay of the land.

Victory now lay at the Infantryman's feet.

He salutes his flag, a symbol of everything he fights for, a symbol of sacrifice to wield the godly right to kill another man for it. The flag gives him strength to his tired frame and gives his the right to shed a tear for his fallen comrades. He salutes for every soldier that came before him and every soldier that will go after.

He knows that flag alone can make him a legion.

And even as his head was again heavy, this time from his losses, the boy hasn't forgotten his punishment.That ensign, this flag is his whole life and he knows now that a suffocation from a tie standing in the rain was maybe too lenient a sanction.

He would die for it now. Any day.

Birthday reds (because I'm colorblind)

Contrary to the popular belief running around my circles, I don't really hate my birthday.
I mean , who hates the day you were born into this insane nightmare. Right ?

I just don't see the reasoning behind celebrating it as if it were a big deal because it really isn't.
There are far better things to be done with my time and more importantly, money.

Since morning, I've been wished by six people. So, six people know it's my birthday, that's not including the family horde. So technically, my point is proven right here. It really isn't a big deal.

I find it very weird to grow up. I don't feel like it. I was just as sane as when I was 28. I tried last night to grow my biceps by an inch.... very hard, but they wouldn't budge. So no physical growth either.

Mentally, I don't think I have developed any nuttier parts of my brain.They're still nuts.

I find the counter to various checkpoints in my life to be moving so fast that I can hardly keep up.
I think it's time to burn down these so called milestones with a rather large mental flamethrower and start actually living.

In other news, I've been told by someone that I'm at, what some people call it, a very sexy age.

Age is a number. Unless you are a mathematician, and a rather large breasted one with long legs and a tight dress to match, I shall humbly disagree.

But, in the off chance that you are the above things, you'll find that I make good calculus references during my conversations over drinks.

Cheers !

Gym answers

When my trainer SOLs ( Scream Out Loud - Mine - hope it catches on :P ) at me in the gym and asks me " Who are you doing this for ?" ,my mind wanders. I mean there is no correct answer to that question. I was perfectly content being a couch potato weighing at 117 Kgs eating my share of meat in the world and all the fries to go with that ( proverbial as well ). Also, its a guaranteed (not by me) fact that the human mind cannot give the right answer when lifting 200 pounds of dumb weight. It's insane for any person to ask a question under those circumstances and then expect the correct answer. So for your future reference, when I reply "I'm doing it for me !" in a somewhat sissy way and even aware of the fact that my arms are going to give away any second, you should know, it's the answer you wanted to hear, not what I wanted to give.

Now. ask me under normal circumstances, who am I doing this for?
 
If I had to pick, It would definitely be the girls. But, out here, I don't have that luxury of ripping my buttons open every now and then to show off my nice definitions. As I take it, when I get into a cozy situation and should the opportunity arise for me to take off my shirt in front of a girl, I think it would be too late for her to back out of it anyway.

Imagine that.

Well, as it turns out,I am doing it for no one. I just feel different when I am in the gym. It helps me pass my time in doing something that my mind construes as constructive. I am shit bored of doing nothing, so that's how I pass my time. Actually I'd rather spend a lot of time eating all sorts of crap and watching a lot of telly, but I realized that television is shit nowadays and crap isn't coming cheap to eat. So, the decision to work out. It spawned from logic. Not from a need to look ripped.

When I do get ripped, I will just consider that as an interesting by-product.

Interestingly, even though I have lost 19 kgs in the past year, I still haven't come around to changing my clothes for the same. So I will be doing that sometime soon. Because now the jeans have begun to look saggy, a stark reminder of how hip-hop I'll start looking if I don't do anything about my apparel status.

But yes, Somehow I missed the point there. The whole point wasn't for anyone to go to gym and the reasons thereof. The point was to tell everyone that if you think adventure is dangerous, try routine. It's a real killer.

Get up from your chair. walk around. see. observe. read. travel. do shit with your life. it has never been and will never be too late.

20 years from now, you just shouldn't feel like your life was made by the lowest bidder.

por-favor.


PS. Ladies, please go to the gym and get your squat on. Its the difference between having a butt and having an ass! trust me. No I'm not being sexist. I like all types of bodies just fine. But please squat anyway. :P

Musings #3

I have no idea why, but the single most persistent thought I've had is the image of me driving back from a party at night with my wife asleep right beside me.
I know it’s not my girlfriend, because you can tell these things and I know it's distracting because of how she literally just lies crumpled beside me with her hair strewn across her face. I know it’s night because any other time would just not make any sense and I know I am driving because there is a light rain on the road which is competing for my attention.
The funny thing about this picture is that no matter how hard I have tried, I can never see her face.
Every single time my head is blank.
Consistently, since I can remember.
It’s weird.

Fernweh

"Will you whisper softly into my ear,
all of the words that I need to hear,
and I will love you even in your darkest hour,
my dear.
And when the music begins to fade,
taper, drift away,
will you still dance with me anyway?
For our time together will surely
slip from our hands,
quietly, strand by strand,
but my memories will be as many as the sand.
Then I will sit by the old oak tree,
just as I promised you I would be,
and I won't cry for you,
but for me,
because it is you that is finally free."


- katie daughtry

Peaceful words...


<not original content>

- 20 Reasons why you should date a biker -

1. Date a guy who has ridden across the length and breadth of the country. He’s the best storyteller you will ever meet.

2. Date a guy who will jump on his motorcycle and ride off in any direction, only to realign himself with this world once again. Respect him for this, because every time he is upset about something, he’ll make sure it doesn’t spill-over at work. Or at home. And when he comes back, he’ll be more sorted than he was earlier.

3. Date a guy who knows how to fix a punctured tube. Or broken gear box. Chances are, he’ll be able to sort out a lot of problems in his own life as well as yours, if you’re close to him. Without taking external help. You can rely on him for most of your problems. Unless they’re medical in nature. In that case, visit a doctor. (He’ll take you to the doc on his motorcycle.)

4. Date a guy who is as comfortable spending a night at a gas station in the middle of nowhere as he is in the plush comfort of his house. Adaptability is something we as humans are kind of running short on these days.

5. Date a guy who will always, without fail, stop to help when he sees another one of his kind broken down on the road. For that matter, even if he sees car drivers. He understands what you’re going through at that moment.

6. Date a guy who gets excited at the mention of hitting the highway and riding off to the hills. The curves on those roads teach him how volatile life can be. In addition to that, he knows how to respect curves. Of all kinds. (You know what I mean).

7. Date a guy who can actually break each bone in another man's body who is looking for unnecessary trouble with him, with just a wrench. But he won’t, because he knows it’s not worth it and it’s not the solution to any problem. Yes, he respects everybody's opinions. He won't force his on you. Just make sure no one pushes him around too much.

8. Date a guy who will ride 300 kms just to have that awesome breakfast that the road-side diner offers in the town next to the one you’re in. If this isn’t adventurous enough for a mundane day, what else do you think is?

9. Date a guy who will get so excited before each ride that he won’t be able to sleep for a minute, even though he has done this a million times. He knows how to keep things fresh. Always.

10. Date a guy who makes sure he packs in everything that he might and most probably will need on a long motorcycle ride. He pays attention to detail. Chances are he’ll be sorted in most of the things in his life.

11. Date a guy who will never ever ride his machine without wearing a helmet. He knows his life is not just his own.

12. Date a guy who will pause and skip a few heartbeats every time he sees the sun rise over the horizon, or comes across a waterfall at the next turn in the hills, or lays his eyes on the first snow-capped peaks in the ranges. He admires nature. The same nature you have chosen to ignore sitting in your cubicles.

13. Date a guy who will ride just for the heck of it, because it makes him feel free and liberated. Honestly, he is more free than anyone else, because he turns that throttle, puts the bike in gears and grabs that freedom.

14. Date a guy who would rather be sitting on his motorcycle thinking about God, and not sit in a temple and think of his bike. He has his priorities in place.

15. Date a guy who has seen the dark side of motorcycling and has survived. He’ll give you tips and lessons you didn’t even know existed.

16. Date a guy who will go to any lengths to spend some quality time with his "brothers", even when there is no obvious blood connection. He understands brotherhood much more deeply.

17. Date a guy who can go wild on his motorcycle trips and can make everyone have a great time. With his music and his stories. What's there not to like about this?

18. Date a guy who will look back at his life’s achievements and mistakes while riding his motorcycle. He will chuckle a bit, smile a lot, sometimes shed a tear or two. And that’s what builds character.

19. Date a guy who has crash and burn marks on his self. Warriors aren’t pretty. Barbie dolls are.

20. Date a guy who can keep his motorcycle like any other man would treat his wife. He’ll treat his wife like a Queen.

<not original content>

God's honest truth

• My first experience of unhooking a bra strap did not come from my first sexual escapade, but from the first He-Man action figure armor I had.
  
  Thank you so much Dad :P
• The only time I utter the words " what's wrong with my sensitivity" is when I am fiddling around with my Xbox controller.
• Until 7th Class, I used to think Gaza strip was some famous topless bar.
• While taking a pee and accidentally flushing, when I am only halfway through, makes me race against the flush. With vigor, mind you.
• I find it impossible to make women understand that even a bargain costs money.
• Redbull might give me wings, but I am much more comfortable with the twin pod Jet pack that comes with Old Monk. I cannot justify the existence of a drink like redbull either. Except maybe to make Jaegerbombs.
• It has been a longtime thought of petting three Dogs > A German shepherd named Whiskey. A Belgian shepherd named Tango and  a Siberian husky named Foxtrot.
  
  Just so that when I shout WTF! they all rush to cheer me up. 
• There are times that I can't believe that I am from this planet.
• If there's really nothing in a name, I don't think anyone should mind when I change my name to Tiberius.
• At any point in time, there is nothing I'd rather be doing than riding my motorcycle in any direction.
  A close second would be making love to a magnificent woman.
  Only because it is uncomfortable to do both at the same time.
  No, I haven't tried.
• I have never pushed myself to impress any girl. The right girl would be the one who would be impressed on her own for her own damn reasons. 
• Peas and carrots are two things that should have been made extinct with the dinosaurs.
• I am very weird in the head when in comes to shopping because I might be in and out of a mall like Flash Gordon, picking up all I need without trying anything. Maybe even regret it later when it doesn't fit. It's just an exercise I don't enjoy.
• To the above, I only shop thrice a year and buy all I need at those times.
• No, I don't see the charm in leaving India.
• There are things, I accept, that are out of my control. It's obvious really, there is no need to fight it since I am but a tiny speck of dirt in this universe.
• Bad grammar is a massive turn off.
• Music is much better enjoyed by me without the lyrics.
• I love Autumn Rain. Absolutely love it!

Of cheatcodes and rewards

So this is what hell feels like. I had tried staying awake all night and study for this exam, but no longer than the first few minutes trickled by , I was day dreaming. Actually it was night so it was just dreaming. All night I thought I had it under control, but in the end it was a sham. I was as prepared as an elephant, trying to swim through an ocean. Kind words of my mom asking me to concentrate more and harder floated by me like the eerie irony they were. " SHIT !", I thought out aloud. There had to be a way out of this. A way to end this misery. A way to calmly eat lunch during the break without worrying about this exam !

As I looked at my watch for the umpteenth time , I could see the seconds trickling by. A sad and harsh reminder of the time remaining. " Jeez! History is such a bore ! " I couldn't help but notice the quiet smirk developing on the face of the invigilator who just happened to be my teacher , who , I felt at times, had a vendetta against me. Dates, times and months... I tell you if you asked me my birthday right now , I wouldn't remember. How the hell was I supposed to know when the Boston Tea Party, was held ? I doubt if it was anything more than a gay congregation anyway . I wasn't built for history !

Furtive glances ahead and behind didn't yield much results. The examiner was watching me much closely now. " Heck! I wonder if he knows the answer ! " My thoughts weren't proving to be very constructive. Although one thing was clear. It was cheat or die !

So , there I was , thinking of an "out" strategy. I had already considered a dozen ploys including the old stomach-ache routine and the writing on the handkerchief move. They wouldn't work anyway. These methods relied on an age old system of 'giving' for 'receiving' information. And I had nothing to give. I knew I had to think of something before the bell rang and all was lost.

Stealing glances around yourself is like a beacon for the distressed. Everyone who notices knows you are in trouble. If luck would have it I would get a friend who would 'share' .

" Damn " , I swore, under my breath. Everyone was busy scribbling.Was I going to be the only one to fail today ? God , oh God! Why didn't you make me study yesterday ?

" Psst ! " , at first, I didn't even notice the hiss. On a careful recon, I saw the girl sitting right next to me. Funny, Isha wasn't the kind to 'share'... let alone 'cheat' . Was this a trick ? I remembered the time when she busted me for disturbing the class and complained to the teacher. I had to stand outside for an hour ! No ! There was no way I was going to trust this Satan's offspring !

" Hey ! I got Q.8 for you if you've got number 2 . " she whimpered. Hmm... Interesting. I DID have question number 2 , but the fishy thing was no 2 was 2 marks and the eighth was for 10. " What is she playing at ?" I wondered as I contemplated. Multitasking is fun .

If I got 10 , I would pass. No doubt about it. Battling my inner urge to resist giving into the devil, and carefully looking if anybody had eyes on me < I had a reputation to protect> , I caved." okay" , I said. shifting my sheet towards her, i gave her the answer. " Your turn" I thought. She was uncertain. I could almost feel her unease. Topper of the class and getting caught cheating . It would be disastrous for her. For me, Hah ! I couldn't care less. I was at the bottom anyway . A pure dysfunctional rebel of sorts with an attitude to match. I 'could' take the risk. She , on the other hand, could not.

I waited. Waited for her to return the favor. I couldn't understand why it was taking so long. In the hollow cacophony of silence this wait was killing me. There were sounds all around me , but all I could hear was silence. She was tense and paranoid, but she stuck to her deal. Scribbling something on the question paper, she passed it to me.

" Whoa ! Nice !", I had 10 marks. Looks like I wasn't going to fail after all. Trying to grasp her ant-tracks handwriting, I finally made some sense out of it and started writing. Fast !

For the examiner it must have been pretty unusual to see me jotting something at such a speed. Which really doesn't beg the reason why he observed very quickly that I was cheating. Calmly, he came up and said, " Abhay. put your pen down. The test is over for you and you're coming with me."
I wont say that I was shocked.He did sound scarily similar to the gestapo though - " Abhay ! Schnell ! Alarm ! For you ze war is overr ! Capitalist pig !" Heaving a sigh, I laid down my arms and followed him as I saw him cancel my entire paper. 15 marks gone to dust ! Damn ! could this go any worse ?

Yes it could. 10 minutes later, the test was over , everybody was leaving and I was standing in a corner.Wondering. If only I had studied. If only Rahul hadn't come last evening about a movie. If only I had the sense to devote time for the test than video games . My reverie came crashing down as I was strong-earred. " You're coming with me to the principal's office! I am going to get u a good thrashing !" Promises promises. Its not like I hadn't been there before. Scot free abhay, thats what they used to call me. 6 principal summonings and not one action . Good record for a troublemaker.

I stood there once again on my favorite side of his door. The principal was a good guy, believed in the 'inner good' of kids. I was just going to wait this one out. I was sure he wouldn't even entertain any action . Laughable actually. My teacher despised me so much and my principal was absolutely my godfather.

Classes were getting over for lunch break. I scanned the populace.Like ants they hurried to the canteens and the cafeteria. Looks like I was going to be hungry today. As long as Herr History teacher the gestapo SS was trying to brainwash a ridiculously simple piehead of a principal.

Isha smiled at me as she passed. There was a twitch in her eye as if asking a question. I nodded in bravado and assured her that it was all cool . She kinda made me nervous. A looker that she was, her tastes in losers like me bore a feeling which could be best compared to a conflict eternal. She looked around and came up to me.

" How bad ?" ..... " Not that bad actually. Looks like a few hundred bucks fine" I tried to smile but she did intimidate me. " Did they ask anything about me?" she asked. Did I sense nervousness? From all the years of knowing her, nervousness and Isha didn't match." Nope. And don't worry. Its the code. We don't rat " I tried a James bond smile on her which came out to be very corny. The worst part is that she knew it.

" Thanks...... " her voice trailed off. " I better be going, lest they see me here." I agreed. That would be admission of guilt, circumstantial evidence, proof of lie .... God ! I gotta lay a rest on Grisham ! " Hey Abhay ! " I turned to her. Sifting through her wavy hair, she asked " Wanna go for a movie tonight ? I heard Notting Hill is on " Her smile was piercing.

" Okay... yeah ... great ! " I was mumbling. " Cool, I'll see you at 7 at Mayfair. And don't worry, tickets and popcorn are on me" She smiled and walked away.

Oh for the love of risks and rewards !

Love at first crash

There are only a few things more irritating than standing in a line. Maybe listening to the casual girlfriend complaining again about how less time I've been spending with her of late. The work was getting to me and I had become a zombie shuttling between airports every fourth day. The only consolation was that they were paying well. Ah ! Who was I kidding ? I had sold my soul to the corporates and they were feasting on me like I was a sub-course. I looked at my watch only to realize that I had been on this line for the past fifteen minutes.There was some hold up ahead , an old lady seen arguing with the security over the contents of her bag. I sighed and slipped into one of my endless daydreams . I knew I had a tough day ahead. My boss's final words to me as I was getting out of my office broke my reverie as I grasped the reality of my situation. I had to get this deal done today. Or else I was in big trouble.

As my turn came, the unusually suspicious guard eyed me closely as if I was Bin Laden's cousin. Visibly shaken from the ordeal with the granny and dealing with some irate passengers had made him a bit miffed. Meek as I was , I had no intention of alarming this guy with any antics here. I carefully removed my metallic objects and moved through the scanner.

Beep !

I hate airports. No matter how many times I tried, I could never get a clean sweep. I checked if I had forgotten anything and seeming as I hadn't, I calmly raised my arms for the manual sweep , which, I might add, always left me feeling a bit violated.

Over the next 45 minutes, I played tetris on my cell, picked a sandwich, watched the TV in the lounge, drank some water, visited the loo and stared at fellow passengers.There was only so much you could do to kill time. Finally on the boarding call, I boarded a bus on the tarmac which led me to the plane.

Getting inside a plane was also kind of a pain. For a guy who stands at 6 feet 4 inches, most places, as cramped as this ,are.I checked my seat, an aisle one , and pushed my luggage on top. Sitting down , my worries of the impending deal took over, as soon as I hit cushion. Fifteen minutes later, I still had no takers on the window seat so I started thinking about the switch. " Excuse me" . I looked at the woman who pointed at the seat next to me and nodded. I got up and let her slide by to the window seat.

I took my seat and clamped my seatbelt.Thankfully the plane took off nicely and we were still god's sweet children.I settled down for a long nap, soon dozing off no longer than I hit the pillow given to me.The rest was short lived as the stewardess came minutes later asking if I wanted snacks.Irritated, I turned her down. The sleep was blown to hell. I glanced over at the woman next to me and offered a smile. She did not smile back. Cold. I died a bit inside. Its not often that the seat next to you goes to a woman , that too of about your age. Hell , most of the times its old mothers or sweet little kids who make noise and shatter your hopes of a good nap. This was different. She was dressed businesslike and her laptop completed her statement. With hair tied down and an overbearing shade of lipstick, almost overcompensating, she had lost all hopes of being a subtle business woman in a boy's club. Her posture was not relaxed which suggested either a stiff back or a pretense of always being ready. I wondered what was she ready for now , here on the plane ? A crash ?

" Are you going to keep looking at my work and/or me , depending upon what you're looking at, throughout this journey ? Because if you are, I must warn you , I have a particularly shrill voice that transcends the sound barrier and I am also capable of making a ruckus here , such a ruckus in fact that for the next 5 hours, everyone will be staring at you and wondering where did you go wrong. Also, I hate ogling creatures, be it frogs or men, and I would simply love it if you could direct your intentions towards someone unassuming, the stewardess or maybe the mother of two over there , perhaps ? "She resumed working.

The plane was cruising and I was a little lost for words. I took a breath and sank in just what had happened here. " Madam, As wonderful as you may think you are and as stunning your new laptop may be , I suffer from normality. Its a wonderful condition that I love to live in day in and day out. I often wonder what it is that drove women at work with such passion , but I can safely say that I am nowhere near to my answer unless you do prove to be a bundle of joy and convince me that its my new cologne. I had no intention of hitting on you and definitely not on snooping on your work , because , unlike you , I am not concerned with the daily lives of unimportant people. I do not share soap stories and I definitely do not like offering advices. Unless this plane goes down from here and I 'accidentally' bump into you or scratch your precious laptop , I have no desire to be part of the one woman zero-class act that you seem to be carrying." I smiled sweetly to drive home the point.

" Hi... I am Sonia. Sonia Sherawat. And I am sorry for before. I am just stressed. I apologize for bursting out like that." She offered me her hand.

Jackpot !

Grinning stupidly , I shook her hand. " Tanmay Chandra. And don't talk to me about stress. I wonder all the time when will it mercifully just kill me " I laughed. " Looks like you're at the bad end of things here. Rushing a presentation ?" I ventured. She quietly closed her laptop and said " Maybe. but You'll never know. I am sorry , I cant talk about it. Its kinda hush hush. Besides I dont see you divulging much about yourself ?" And there started a flurry of cross questions and visibly feeble attempts at humorous answers. I was a 28 year old consultant working for the past 3 years in a field , honestly sometimes I just wished to leave. She was also an assistant consultant but mostly to a crew of 4. I was beginning to understand where the rage came from . Working for 4 guys and doing everything for them , right from getting coffee to drawing annual sales reports by the minute of zeroed in companies. Our lines of work were quite similar and soon enough we had our common ground. The good thing about finding that one home base is that we could complain as much as we wanted about the coffee and the sales reports. It was mundane work and we knew it. The fancy promises that lured us from our respective business schools and pushed us into a wilderness of corporate enslavement were reminisced. The bosses were verbally flogged and the hours cursed. Suddenly the plane ride wasn't that boring. I pushed a bit further.

" So , what do you do for fun ? you know , whatever hours are left in the day ?" My advances were measured, my steps thought of in advance. " You mean if I have a boyfriend and do I love to hang with him?" She laughed."I thought you had no intention of hitting on me ! " I was embarrassed. Time for a saving grace I thought. " Well .... do you ? " Damn! I should think about this more carefully ! " Well, no. I had one but now I don't. End of story. Judging from the question I can gather that you are single." She smiled deceivingly." Yeah.. stuff rarely works out if you work these maddening hours."

Over the next 4 hours and 10 minutes we bonded and in a strange way. We had so much in common and yet were completely different. Each with a brand of quirks and with a brand of insane. I hadn't noticed till now , but as the plane was turning for final approach I realized we were holding hands.It was strange that a flight journey had got me to a place where I never thought a 7000 bucks ticket would get me.


" Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will soon be landing . I request you to kindly remain seated with the seat belts on. Thank you" The speaker was impersonal. A harsh reminder to the end of the journey.I turned to Sonia to ask her to dinner. Then everything went to hell.

The plane swerved and turned rapidly losing control of friction on the tarmac. I could see the wing touch the ground soon and sparks flying all over.What the hell ! How did this happen ? Amidst the screams and yells for help , I saw her face. It was ashen , fear stricken .Somehow we were still holding hands.I screamed. " Sonia ! Hang on to me ! And get down for god sakes !" It was no good. She had almost lost it. There were no tears no expressions anymore. With one last look she yelled, " Don't worry about me ! We're all dead anyway ! I'm just glad I have someone here next to me." The flames were almost at an arms reach. Suddenly , there were a couple of explosions and all I could see was .......


" Sir ! Would you like some snacks sir? Or maybe something to drink ?" The stewardess in her calm smile. Looking perfect. I took stock for a moment. Sweating profusely, I was hardly in a state to refuse a drink. " Scotch on the rocks . Please !" I pleaded. She was kind enough to leave me to attend to that drink. As I wiped the sweat off my forehead, I turned to the window seat to see her. And there she was. Just as in my dream. "Sonia?" I blurted involuntarily. She turned to me ,waited , smiled and said " I'm sorry you must have me mistaken with someone else. I don't know you." I sighed . Maybe it was relief , maybe it wasn't. I didn't know. I could see my drink coming up . " But I am curious as to how you know my name." she said as she leaned closer.

The Right Note

His Sunday was now a bust. When you have been on the force for the last 18 years, you begin to realize the futility of expectation. Crime never sleeps and it doesn't let you sleep either. Grabbing his overcoat to fight the morning chill, he quickly set out to what was to be a long day. He didn't know it yet, but by the end of this day he would be pleased.

The body was found dumped by the lake. Multiple stab wounds marred what was left of a handsome man. The guy was probably around his mid forties and looked like someone who had seen better times. Actually, that would be true for any corpse, but this one was different. "Inspector, we found this on him. Its pretty surprising that he had the energy to write it. Can't make sense of it though." Ranvir smiled at the young police officer who looked eager to make an impression. " Okay. I trust nothing else has been touched around the crime scene. We don't want our work stretched by some stupid mistake." Ranvir had seen such cases before. The guy was probably attacked by thugs. Since there were no belongings on him, it could be simply credited to a mugging gone gross. He silently reviewed the crime scene and then signed off on the body allowing it to be taken to the morgue. Yawning, he directed the young cop , Satinder , to stay till forensics had finished up. " I'm going to the office. Have the autopsy report on my table as soon as we can get it done." he directed. Waking up the morgue officials and pushing things was another pain, but Satinder was always eager to make an impression. Ranvir smiled.

It was when he reached into his pocket to take out change for the depressing breakfast that he just had, he realized that the slip of paper that Satinder had given him was still there. He looked at it. Eagle three. That is what it said. That's even more unhelpful, Ranvir silently muttered to himself. Why would someone dying write something so unhelpful. Shaking his head, he went to the office putting through occasional phone calls to his wife apologizing and giving out free but empty promises. When he entered his office, an hour later, he was surprised to find Satinder smiling like he just found a pot of gold.

" Sir, the autopsy isn't complete yet. But, preliminary tests show high amounts of alcohol in his system.Also, two fingers were missing from the victim. A previous injury. I'm thinking construction worker or a heavy machines operator. I'm pulling strings to see if any in the area have been missing so that we may identify the victim at least." Satinder beamed. For someone who just stated obvious facts, Satinder was looking very happy with himself. Still , he was young. Ranvir exhaled , " Check for the John Doe's fingerprints. Try matching it against the databases that we've got. Maybe we'll get lucky there. I mean, if the guy himself was a criminal, we've got a list of possible enemies don't we ?" Satinder smiled again. " Already on it sir! The results should be out soon." He left. Ranvir was still struggling with the note. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

By lunch time things were already looking up. It so happened that there was a possible eyewitness. Problem with eyewitnesses is that their stories can never be ratified. However, this one was respectable and he was on his way to his apartment from a call center when he saw what he saw. On top of that , according to him, everything happened under a streetlight. So it wasn't much of a problem to get a description. When that was done it was just a matter of time to get the perpetrator.
Ranvir smiled at this fortuitous occurrence and thought there was a God after all. Indicating that he had a lunch appointment, he left the station and drove all the way to the other side of the city to meet an old friend.

"Hmm. Eagle Three. Really doesn't ring any bells. But it definitely sounds military. Lucky for you old boy, I still have some connections in that area. I might be able to dig it up for you. No charge of course. After all you're paying for the lunch." Ranvir smiled at his friend. Harsh was and will always be one of the finest sleuths he would know. Too bad he left the force for civilian pastures. " By the way , have you given any thought to my offer ? The pay is almost thrice of what you make and the conditions are way better" said Harsh as he sipped the wine. " Ranvir, you've already reached as high as you can get.Its time to think about the future." Ranvir couldn't defy his logic. Another two years though, and he could retire from the force with a pension. Maybe then. " I'll think about it. You have to look into that note though. " " Yeah Yeah, will do. will have the details by tomorrow." Harsh waved him off.

They found their guy in a rundown section of the city. He was a dweller. Meaning that he stayed wherever he could find a place and robbed people at night. All of 27 years and a total scum. It so happened that there were a couple of other unsolved murders that he could go in for. Satinder's team made no heavy weather of his arrest and by eight, he was arrested. Ranvir was pleased. When he came back to his office, his good mood vanished as he saw the public defender sitting across his table. By law, he couldn't touch the lowlife now. He swore under his breath and greeted the man across. "So, you've gotten the news. I have to run a tighter ship around this place from now on." Ranvir scowled. " No matter what you say inspector, the law is the law. And I well know that if I hadn't shown up now , I would have received my 'client' is a bruised, semi-conscious state. Now, if you will allow me to see the scum that needs defending." He smiled with a wink. Wow. Look at that. A good man after all. Ranvir extended his hand introducing himself. " No need inspector. Your reputation precedes you. My name is Inderjit Sharma. You may call me Inder." he said as he took Ranvir's hand. " Although the law is quite clear. You may not touch my client. I will however see to it that he get 'defended' accordingly." There was that wink again.

In the next few days, Ranvir got busy with his usual work. Thieves, robbers and petty thugs. He lost touch with the case which was normal and he didn't remember it till the time a court summons landed on his desk asking him to appear for 'Mr. Bhushan Yadav a.k.a Bunty' 's trial. He gave himself a quiet chuckle as he knew how much he would enjoy the judge nail him. So much time with the law had given him that callous side as which all cops carry, that enjoy seeing a man getting what he deserved. Short of a confession, the case was fool proof. An eyewitness, a murder weapon and the victims wallet, though minus the cash,and an 'understanding' public defender ensured that this guy was gone.He should have just confessed.

His delight however was short lived. When he was called to the stand and was quizzed by the defender, he had that ugly pit in his stomach tighten as he realized that the defender was actually defending the accused. He was puzzled. He thought that he had the Inder's motives figured out that day and suddenly everything was going haywire. Inder cleverly asked him all the right questions that cast a shadow of doubt on every one of the police statements and deductions. The eyewitness account had already been showed to be flawed given the call center stress syndrome that was making its way through nightcrawlers at such places. The weapon was discounted as circumstantial for lack of forensic evidence. And on top of it the victim's wallet was just a coincidence and was found on the street by the defendant who swore that he was going to return it to the owner the next day.And since it just had a few credit cards and an identity card when found upon the him, the claim stood all questions. Ranvir couldn't believe his ears as Inder decimated his entire case.

Judge Shourie was a newbie. This was only his fifth case. Ranvir hoped he had some sense and would at least consider the circumstantial evidence and would give this criminal a 7 day remand until facts were found out. Even 2 days would do. Hell right now, an hour with this criminal and Ranvir would pounce on him and get his confession. It did not happen. The judge striking his mallet gave the 'defendant' a clean chit and allowed him to go scot free. As they exited the courtroom, Ranvir ran to Inder and blurted, " What the hell was that? I thought there would be a bit of charade but you let this guy out! He is a killer and you know it. You know what? The next life he takes, It's on you ! " Inder put a hand on his shoulder and said " Mr Ranvir, I am a defender. My job is to defend. Law is pretty much black and white when it comes to this. You didn't have the proper evidence. You didn't do your homework and thought that I would go about destroying my stats of cases just because I think he's guilty ? You should've known better. All lawyers are like this. Tell you what. The next time bring fingerprints on the weapon, some bloody clothes and something more than an inexplicable note and maybe I'll take up a challenge. For now, you're done." Smiling, Inder walked away leaving Ranvir frustrated as to how the lawyer slept at night.

In the following days, Ranvir went to his work with the normal sense of purpose that he always had, but soon he realized that his vigor was gone. Inder was right. Law was grey. And for all purposes it wasnt the law that mattered, it was all about the evidence. The next weekend , he called up Harsh asking if the job offer was still open. Harsh took him to lunch this time.

" Is that all? One case and you're willing to give it all up ? Whatever happened to the police force and the dedication that was Ranvir Singh ? C'mon man. Don't tell me its because one of them got away. Shit happens all the time. Quit thinking about it." Harsh said. Taking a long drag from his smoke, Ranvir shook his head, " I cant do it anymore man. And its not this one. Its every idiot who managed to walk away. Rich kids, political connections, right lawyers, everyone of them." Harsh was sad to see his old friend suddenly so down. " Pick up the guy again. You said it yourself, the guy has priors. Pick him up. Open all your old files. Find something that might stick with him. Then grill him. Off the record. If you want , I can help you with this. Piece of cake. No one will ever know. Once we have his confession, use it to nail his ass. If this is what it takes for you get closure, do it."

Harsh's words made sense to him. He stopped by the office and started digging up the file on the guy. He couldn't find it. He walked to the storage unit and checked there, and he couldn't find it there either. He called Satinder and asked him where the file was and after hours of the entire precinct being searched, the file didn't turn up. Ranvir was puzzled. In his anger he decided to break the law for once. He grabbed a couple of men and made his way to the shanty where 'Mr Bunty' was always seen. On a thorough search, the man was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, he slammed his fist into a door and then placing 2 men for surveillance around the area, he left for home. Sleep came lightly to the man who was troubled but soon he felt drowsy enough.He slept.


His Sunday was again a bust. He got a call from satinder early in the morning and he made his way to the same lake where another body had been found. He checked his messages on the cell and found he had one from Harsh. He would call him later. At the lake, there wasn't much activity as there had been at the same time a few weeks ago. The body lay almost exactly there. It was 'Mr Bhushan aka Bunty'. His stab wounds were severe but not nearly fatal. The job had been done by an expert. The knife wounds were made to suffer. Not to kill. Parts of his fingers were burnt and there were a few missing toes. Nothing that would kill the man. There were burn marks on the body as if someone had taken the time to do this. Even as Ranbir was feeling very good this morning, he secretly hoped he didnt have a serial killer on his hands. Smiling at satinder, he asked " Anything else? " as his phone rang. " Yes sir. There was a note beside him. Similar to before." Satinder replied. "Get it." Ranvir instructed as he picked up his phone. It was Harsh.

" Where are you ?"

" At the lake . Same place I was a few weeks ago and there has been a murder. Guess what? I'm happy ! "

"That's alright. Good to find joy in your job. even though it reeks of sadism. I called because I have something for you. The note you found next to the body. The last one. It said Eagle Three right? "

"umm ... yeah... I think so.... what of it ? "

" Well, I did some digging. Turns out Eagle three is a call sign. The ones army guys use.. you know..."

"uh .. huh... "

" Well... the funny thing is that nowadays they use Echo, not eagle. Eagle was discontinued after the army got out of Sri Lanka. In that war, Eagle team was a special forces unit operating out of Thimavillu , somewhere behind enemy lines. It was an 8 man team that had been inserted to destroy an enemy supply depot. They were all named Eagle one to Eagle eight. I reckon your man was one of them."

" What are you saying ? This man was targeted by someone from Sri Lanka? Some sort of vendetta killing?"

"Hardly. Sri Lanka happened twenty years ago mate. And I do believe I have the time line correct, then your guy was eagle three, a Paratrooper Yeshwant Mehra. It took some finding and a lot of work , but I found out that apparently it was believed that the entire Eagle team perished behind enemy lines till one day three of them were found by an ambulance unit just before the army was pulling out of the country."

" I really don't see where you are going with this."

" You will. The other two members were a Capt Inderjit Sharma and a Lt Col Umesh Shourie. They were half dead when they were found. Apparently Yeshwant had saved them both. That's all I know. Sound familiar? Look I've to go now. I guess you can look for your closure elsewhere now."

The click on the cellphone resounded like a cannon on his eardrums. He was so dazed that he couldn't even hear Satinder talking to him. "......... just like the one before.What do you think sir? " Satinder shook Ranvir to wake him up from his reverie. " What ?" Ranvir asked as he took the note and read it.

"We Will Never Forget. Regards Eagle one and Eagle two. Out."

Bastard. He should have just confessed.