19 July 2009


I arrived there about half an hour earlier than what I was expected to. That has been a life long habit; always reaching early; traits of the successful if I wasn’t marred by several other crippling attributes. As I slowly walked towards the designated meeting place I felt like a young prostitute being fucked for the first time. It was my first day at a new job; I should have had some kind of a positive spin to my nervousnes but maybe it wasn’t the job I really imagined myself getting into. Like everytime else I wanted to escape getting into the nitty gritty of my uneventfull life; I reached into the pocket of my denim jacket for the plastic bag. That reminded me; the old hag had been improving the quality of packaging lately. Gone are the days when she used old newspapers to wrap the bud you were buying; she used plastic bags; the ones you could seal and were fantastic for repeated use. For an old woman; that bitch really knew how to do business and anyways the stuff she sold was fantastic. Took some rizzla, rolled the joint and lit it; it wasn’t burning right. As I licked the joint even, I saw a car scream past me and park under the broken street light. The fat bastard had the legendary three step exit from the car. Open the door and step the first foot, move your ass on the car seat and put the second foot out then use both your hands on the frame to lift you out. Pathetic; pity the women they fuck. As a man it’s disgusting to have a three step exit from the car until your wife reaches menopause; but that’s my opinion and nobody cares what I think , so fuck it. Rakesh Solanki owned a gas agency and had a bunch of thugs working for him. That was a reward for his life long service to Akbar Ali Dostum; he was a coordinator now; like a project manager or something. Akbar Ali dostum was a Afghani convict who moved to India during partition, after years of carefully rationalizing the underworld; had plummetted himself to the sort of CEO of the company. CEO, project manager what am I thinking.
As Solanki walked towards me I saw another figure walk right behind him. My head started whizzing with thoughts about who this was; damn this stuff was good. Before I could reach to a conclusion both of em’ were standing right in front of me. “This is Sajit”, said Solanki as he introduced me to the stranger. We shook hands as Solanki continued speaking; “Gaandu, apna naam nahi batayega, hain!! abe sorry sorry tu toh goonga (goonga=hindi for mute) hai" and he cracked into a hideous laughter. Bully, big fat bully. "Monty beta, depress mat ho, yeh ch***** behera( hindi for deaf) hai" and roars in laughter. Deaf and dumb, either it was destiny or done on purpose either ways it was a bloody good joke. Solanki continued, “ Well, you guys wanted to prove yourselves, this is your job. Go to this address and shoot Ravi Nair right between his eyes. Don’t worry about a picture of him as he is at home and he’s the only one who lives there”. And he drove off a few minutes later; I saw his car dissappear in the dark and I was left thinking about the adventure I had on my hands.
To be continued.........

1 comment:

  1. ha ha... cant wait to see what happens to "ravi nair"..