The Untitled Story: CHAPTER 2

Ankush was an event manager for one of the renowned software firms in the world which had expanded it's business in India in last few years. The company now had more then 5 working offices in different cities of India. It did not boast a huge workforce as compared to some other Indian counterparts , but it was famous for  its good employee care. The company earlier used to get its work done using Indian software vendors, but in recent years it seemed to have realized that opening its own centers and having its own employees will be a much more beneficial option in terms of business. Now, having removed the vendor companies from the chain, it could afford to offer better compensations and facilities to its employees and thus, had recruited some of the best students from the top Engineering and B-schools of India and some experienced managers from some of the other top companies.

Ankush had joined the company around two years back, having worked for some five years earlier for another major MNC. He was an MBA from one of the private colleges. He was not one with very good grades in school and college , but once in job; he had shown tremendous efficiency and capabilities. In the first five years of his job, he had washed away his shortcomings due to not having studied in any of the top institutes and now was a familiar name in his own circuit. He was offered a handsome package and hence changed his job to join this company. Although, the profile was a bit different here from his previous job, he started enjoying it after few days and excelled here as well. His bosses loved him and his subordinates adored him. His professional life was zooming.

As the company was looking for more growth both in terms of business and workforce, there was heavy workload on Ankush as there were lots of parties and events organized. A number of delegates visited almost every week and a lot of employee care activities had to be arranged monthly.

Ankush was raised in various cities of India as his father was a BSF officer. He had spent most of his childhood in the beautiful landscapes and hills of Assam. He had been in Punjab and Kashmir too until he came for his higher education to New Delhi. His father had been an honest man and like every middle class Indian family boy, he was raised with high hopes and expectations. His father saved for his higher studies all his life and never had spent too much on any kind of luxuries all his life. Ankush now felt it was his duty to prove himself in his profession and go as high as possible in his career to justify his parents' sacrifices. He used to hold his job and work very high in his priorities of life and could sacrifice anything to avoid any kind of risk to his career.

He used to have a good circle of friends in his MBA days, but now that his work and profession had taken over his other passions, he was left with very few friends. Most of the people he mixed with were his office colleagues. Being an event manager, he was used to parties and over time had got so used to them that fancy  dresses, loud music and unlimited amount of food and booze did not excite him anymore.In his free time, he liked to be alone in his apartment reading some novels or watching movies on his Television. He liked to stay fit and so he was a regular visitor of the gym. He used to believe that there must be a right girl for him somewhere and he wanted to devote all his love and affection to her whenever he would come across her. He never flirted with women at his workplace and hadn't dated anyone since long.

Life was going on well and his bank balance was increasing rapidly. He was obsessed with his work and never felt the need of his old friends. He used to keep in touch with some close ones until last few years through occasional phone calls and social networking sites , but over time even that had reduced. Most of his friends had got busy in their own lives too so as usual none bothered making an attempt to remain in touch. All was going fine, until one day he received a call. He had come from  office early and was in a mood to resign to bed early after dinner when his cellphone rang.

"Hello, is that Ankush?" The voice seemed known and very familiar although he was sure he was hearing the voice after long. It took a moment for Ankush to browse through the layers of his memory from yesteryear and he recognized the voice as that of Mohit's. Mohit was a friend from his college. He was a rich guy and used to throw a lot of parties those days, he was always surrounded by girls and booze , a rare combination , but then money always talks. Mohit was good looking, a charming personality and having fun was the only agenda of his life. Ankush had been a member of his booze parties in quite a few occasions but he had no idea as to what happened to Mohit after college. He would have thought that Mohit had joined his family business after completion of his MBA.

" Do you remember me buddy? Its Mohit , we were friends in our college days".

It was a surprise for Ankush to receive his call , and not a very pleasant one. Yet he suppressed his displeasure and responded - "yeah Mohit, of course I remember you. Long time, buddy, how have you been? where are you these days? ".

The Untitled Story: CHAPTER 1

Taaran Singh was a Lorry driver from the northern part of India. A Sikh by religion, he was born and brought up in Punjab. He was a well built man in his late thirties and used to go around in a traditional Sikh turban , kurta and Lungi usually. He used to flaunt a chin full of beard and a very masculine mustache.  He had briefly served in the Indian army too in the past. However, thanks to his inability to stick to one profession, he had left it after the Kargil war. Though he was only in the cooking department, among friends he still used to boast about being an ex-army man. He had tried his luck running a liquor shop in partnership, but quit that too post a fight over the monthly share with his partner. He wasn't married , but like some of the fellow truck drivers; was addicted to street women and readily used to have paid sex once in a while. As for family; he had one elder brother,who had allegedly taken over whatever parental property was left and so they were not in good terms either. Basically, Taaran Singh had no one to call his own apart from some of his driver friends and his driving assistant Bhola, a 16 years old youngster, a runaway from home who; after finishing all the stolen money from his dad, had finally resorted to being a helping hand for this truck driver Taaran Singh. Taaran Singh used to pay him some part of his earnings, in return Bhola had to accompany him across long journeys through different states,covering miles,keeping the lorry clean, arranging food, liquor, helping in uploading goods in the lorry etc. etc. This was their life and it was going so for the last few months. Taaran Singh lived for the day, he never saved money. Once after a round trip of eight to ten days,driving twelve to fourteen hours each day he would take a break of couple of days during which he used to booze till the dawn and sleep through the day.

This was one such night. After unloading the goods at the warehouse finally; he along with Bhola had headed straight towards his center of rejoice - "Banjara Dhaba" - A cheap highway hotel near Delhi border which provided unlicensed alcohol at reasonable price and was a hub of people of his class during such nights. You could get lorry drivers, small time merchants, few local goons, a few occasional groups of local college students looking for cheap wine; and young and middle aged women to satisfy the lust of these men for a few hundred bucks. Taaran Singh had been driving for the last entire week and the scorching heat in the deadly summer had really taken a toll on him, but sleep was the last thing in his mind. All he wanted was to booze and let go of his senses till he fell down. In any case, there was Bhola to take care of him and his lorry.

Because of his talkative nature, he was quite famous in this place and drunkards usually liked people who could talk a lot. Often after getting drunk, Taaran Singh would tell them stories from his army days , or sometimes his village days at a young age , about his lost love Kajri who was married off to a rich farmer somewhere near Patiyala and how a poor financial condition and a cruel father forced the situation all the more against him. Few more pegs and Taaran Singh would start singing Punjabi Folk and old Hindi songs. He was a big fan of Bollywood movie star Sunny Deol and claimed to have seen all of his movies. Some; several times. Somewhere he used to imagine himself as manly and macho as the actor was usually shown in his movies. Frankly, he was obsessed with the actor and his style and literally respected him like a big brother. He could spend a fortune to once meet the actor in person and shake his hands.

Getting out of the lorry, Taaran Singh slammed the door shut and folding his Lungi up to his knees started towards the Dhaba. The dhaba had the woven cots called 'Charpoy' laid out in the open lawn with a slab made of wood in the middle, typical of such north Indian highway joints. It had some cheap furniture inside too in case someone preferred to dine on the table, but that choice was generally rare in this time of the year. People liked to sit in the open under the sky during the nights and have their boozing sessions. There were few huge earthen ovens called 'Tandoor' and most of the breads and chicken roasts used to be cooked there. It had a bar which had all the local brands of whiskey, beer and rum. Vodka was not generally a preferred choice for the type of people who visited such places. Taaran Singh, however, liked beer. He could consume bottles of beer in a night before he finished his quota. He used to have a lot of chicken and Rotis(Indian breads) to go with it. His eating and drinking capacity was more than usual.

Tonight, he selected a cot in the corner and sat with his legs folded on it. On the other side of the slab, he signaled Bhola to have a seat. He then shouted for the bearer. In these types of joints, the bearers are normally teenager guys wearing a pant or a lungi with a colored vest and a towel on their shoulders and invariably they are called 'Chhotu'. So, our Chhotu came running towards him and stood near by. Taaran Singh casually asked him 'How are you doing'. The guy, rather pleased by this , replied 'all well'.
Taaran Singh then inquired about 'Bhagat' who was like the head chef  of this joint; 'Cant see Bhagat Singh anywhere?'.
Chhotu replied 'He has got some problems back home so he is away for last few days, but we are expecting him tomorrow or so'.
'What problems?'
'Seems his mother is very ill and his wife is also expecting very soon; so she cant help much either'.
'Oh so the poor lad is now cooking at his home, rather than here; eh?'

Most of the people working in such places belonged to distant villages who came to the cities to earn a living. They didn't have any particular talent or specialty to be precise, but in due course developed something to earn their bread and also to send some money back home. Bhagat Singh belonged to some village in UP near Lucknow. He had come to Delhi some ten years back and after working as a bearer in one of such joints, finally laid his hands in cooking.Much to everyone's amazement, he turned out to be a good cook. As Taaran Singh was one of the regular customers of this joint and liked to chat a lot, he had been friends with Bhagat for quite some time. At times; after the long boozing sessions of Taaran Singh, when the night wasn't young anymore and most of the customers were either drunk or had left; both would sit and talk about their respective villages. Taaran Singh used to joke about Bhagat's 'Singh' surname claiming only the people from Punjab were the real Singhs; 'how come a person from UP be a Singh; you are a fake one' he would say. Today,he felt bad for Bhagat's condition .Nevertheless , he ordered some Chicken fresh from the Tandoor and chilled beer.

Bhola, in the meanwhile had lighted a 'Beedi' - an Indian invention of ancient times; close to cigarettes and made of tobacco leaves. Taaran Singh was not the one for smoking, it probably had some religious reasons, but then one could not be sure. There was a Bollywood number being played in the Dhaba and Bhola had started humming to the tune. Though he was only sixteen and in India, this was an illegal age for drinking; nobody really bothered about the law in such places. Bhola had already been baptized and Taaran Singh was sure very soon he would pose him a challenge in terms of the ability to drink; it was just a matter of time. Beer arrived and the bearer asked Taaran Singh to check whether it was chilled enough for him. Taaran Singh touched the bottle and gave him a nod. He was getting restless for the first drop to go down his stomach. A bottle opener was something rare in this place and there would usually be one or two, lying with the group which used it last. The bearer would usually get the opener if a customer requested. Most of them , however didn't usually bother and used their teeth to accomplish this task. Some even thought it as a sign of strength and a heroic act. Taaran Singh had never used one from the time he could remember. He opened the beer for himself and Bhola followed suit. Taaran Singh gulped quite a lot in the first go and then wiped his mouth from the back of his hand making a sound of satisfaction. Then he stared around and tried to find partners. He considered Bhola as his younger brother and cared for him , but did't find him mature enough to be a part of the discussions he used to have after getting drunk.

On the left side a few yards away, there was a group of young guys; all in casuals ; chattering loudly in Haryana style Hindi. They seemed to be pretty drunk already and quite angry over some dispute over land and had a lot of swear words to their use for a certain 'Yadav'. On the other side, Taaran Singh noticed two middle aged men sitting across each other; talking seriously over some matter. They probably belonged to the locality and had come here to have a few drinks as they couldn't do so in front of their kids at home. Then he noticed some guys sitting in the corner cot. They looked like some local goons, all dressed in white sherwanis. They were probably men working for one of the local Mafias and were on their way to the nearby city when they stopped over for dinner. They looked like they wanted to lay low and avoid trouble at this hour. Taaran Singh noticed a big SUV standing just outside the Dhaba and guessed it was theirs. He looked inside the Dhaba where there were some tables. He saw a couple romancing there. Both the guy and the girl were sitting on the same side of the table and flirting with each other. The girl was surely a pick-up and they would soon head to where they should. Well; thought Taaran Singh; there was unfortunately no one here today whom he knew,Bad luck. Bhola's eyes were however stuck on the girl. He probably wanted to try his luck too. Taaran Singh signaled the Dhaba guy for another beer; while constantly munching on the chicken.

Taaran Singh was half way through his third bottle when he saw some cops stopping by in their motorbikes at the entrance of the dhabba. Cops were usual in such places since these were mostly illegal joints. Even if they had the permit for the land they were located upon, they wouldnt have that for the liquor they used to sell. The cops usually visited to  collect their weekly quota of bribe. But, from the look of things, Taaran Singh thought, this was different. Their body language suggested that they meant business today. There were six of them. Four headed towards the cashier where as the other two decided to stay around the lawn. The cops inquired something or about somebody with the cashier. From this distance, Taaran Singh could not be sure what about. One of the men from the SUV group gestured in a 'Hi' towards the cops roaming in the lawn and asked what was the matter.The policeman who would be probably a constable , replying to his gesture with folded hands; told him that the young college-going son of a local businessman had been kidnapped and hence there was police all around searching for leads. Taaran Singh was well aware of such cases as it was quite usual in these areas. There were a lot of rowdy groups in the surrounding villages who indulged in such crimes. It was quick money. They seldom had to kill as most of the businessmen would readily expense with a few millions to save their child's life. It had become a norm and some said even police was involved in these crimes and though they were well aware of the culprits ; they never really did anything apart from taking their share. The businessmen also did not protest as they had a lot of black money themselves and once they had paid the ransom, they felt safe for a long time.

However, this time the body language of the cops suggested it was serious business. The constable went on to tell the guy in white sherwani that the kidnapped boy also happened to be a distant nephew of  someone powerful in the Delhi cabinet ministry and hence this time something had to be done. Taaran Singh was hearing all this and he thought the kidnappers crossed the line unknowingly this time and had landed themselves in trouble.

Meanwhile, the cashier seemed to be making some calls and in a few minutes another white SUV came by and some young guys who looked like locals came out and walked towards the guys in sherwanis. All of them greeted each other and the inspector and constable joined them. The guys in Sherwanis looked like seniors to the newly arrived group and the latter seemed to look up to them for advice. Soon, a heated discussion started . The cops were insisting that the boy must be released now else the matter could get very serious. Taaran Singh got the idea that the police was indeed involved in this and what he had thought earlier was not entirely wrong. The discussion grew intense and the second group seemed to be actually the ones responsible for the kidnapping. They had the boy but they were not ready to release him for free. The head of the sherwani group wanted to convince them but it seemed in vain.Their idea was to release this boy now and they could get the required money from some other businessman in some days. The younger kidnapper group, though; was paying respect to the elder sherwani group; but they didn't want to let their prey get free for nothing, however they were ready for a lesser ransom money. The cops were against this idea and were of the opinion that it was too risky and if anyone got the wind that they were involved too then it would be massacre.

Taaran Singh thought it was getting dirty. He looked around and saw that most of the other customers had already left. He was sure no one would say a word about this since they did not want to mess up with these guys. Taaran Singh was scared a bit himself, but if he had to leave; he would have to cross these guys to reach his lorry; hence he decided to stay. He saw Bhola's face and it looked like he could wet his pants anytime. None of those people seemed to have noticed Taaran Singh and Bhola and probably dismissed the two of them as the workers of the Dhaba.

One of sherwani group members proposed that the kidnapped guy should be given a treatment first so that he does not open his mouth and their whereabouts is not disclosed. The kidnapper group was even suggesting by now that the boy should be killed. They did not want to risk their business in case anyone got to ever know them and their whereabouts. They had not faced such a situation before. There was so much of confusion and everyone of them was already drunk. Nobody knew what to do. The cops just wanted the guy handed over to them right now and assured that it will be their guarantee that the boy does not open his mouth. They feared that more force could come from Delhi and then even they wouldn't be able to help and the matter would be beyond their control.

Suddenly, The head of the Sherwani group noticed Taaran Singh staring at them. 'Who's that?' he asked. Everyone just stopped shouting and all eyes were on Taaran Singh. The cashier replied that he was a truck driver who often came by for a booze. The Sherwani group leader said he had an idea. He came towards Taaran Singh and the rest of them followed. He rested a hand on Taaran Singh's shoulders. Though Taaran Singh was a strong man , he found himself inches shorter and kilos lighter than this well built strong man. The guy made Taaran Singh sit on the charpoy and started with his idea.

He said, 'Look guys!! The situation is critical. We can't handover the guy to these cops as that would suggest that the kidnappers were from this community. We can't risk taking the guy to the border ourselves since there would be checkpoints. We can't certainly kill the guy since that would mean laying low and not earning anything much for next few months. So I think what we can do is we can keep the guy in the Lorry of Taaran Singh here and he can do us a favor by dropping him somewhere near the border. Since its a lorry, nobody would question him and there has to be a lot of space for hiding a senseless guy in the lorry anyway. In return, what we will do is ; we will keep his friend Bhola enjoying with us here and will make sure he is safe till Taaran Singh is back.'

Taaran Singh was in a big soup now.He knew arguing with them would yield no results. They had already made up their mind. They would have Bhola in their custody till Taaran Singh is back. If he accepted and the border cops checked his lorry and found the kidnapped guy in ; he would be declared the kidnapper and would go to jail. If he refused , he could be killed. If he ran away with the guy, Bhola would be killed. He started remembering his Gods. He found no way out of this and cursed himself for visiting this place tonight.

***

The Untitled Story:Prologue

Prologue:


Everyone has a story and it deserves to be told. one meets so many people in the path of life and gets to hear so many stories, some fake, some true, some purely fictions, some comic and some immersed in immense agony of losing one's everything. There are stories all around us and our life is inspired by all these stories in some way or other. These stories teach us the values in life, they teach us to deal with people, to respect , to love and to hate. We read books, we watch movies and we hear news, everything tells us a new story everyday, every moment.

 Not every story needs to have a perfect ending, not every story needs to be an inspiring one, not every story has to leave you awe-struck. A story can be a tale of a loser and another can teach you ways of winning the world. Similarly Not every story must have a name , for naming it might help setting up a prejudice in the reader's mind and guiding him towards the viewpoint of the author or rather, the story teller. So, here I present to you,the reader, to have your own perception and live through - 'The Untitled Story'.

I can't do the love song, the way its meant to be..

8.30 am local time Today's umpires are Ian Gould and Amiesh Saheba. Pakistan are opening with Kamran Akmal and Salman Butt, who scored a half-century against Delhi to grab this chance. No Shahid Afridi once again at the top of the order, I wonder where he'll bat today. Zaheer Khan has the new ball for India, bowling from over the wicket with two slips in place.

The tea is different today, he had a sip and immediately noticed the difference. It was long since he had made his own tea, yeah 3 years may be. He has to start everything all over again.His decison was right though, he was convinced. But it was going to be tough for few initial days; but he knew everything will settle down finally. He had to manage going forward his life- without his life.

0.1
Khan to Salman Butt, no run, lots of swing from Zaheer, he bowled it full and wide outside off stump, the ball swung a long way away from Butt who decided to let it go, the umpire didn't call that wide, Zaheer was lucky to get away with it

"Arjun, isnt that the girl from the bookshop ?" Sameer was curious.
"yup, sure she is!!" Replied Arjun with a wicked smile.
"Oh man, you are great!! How do you do such things buddy? We never had a clue!!" Sameer was obviously surprised.

Arjun just whistled in a low voice looking at the mirror and combing his hair. Not long back himself and his little gang of friends had noticed this girl at the local bookshop counter. 'Cute and sexy' he had thought then; his 'Loafer' friends obviously exclaiming at the same time 'kya **** hai yaar'. Arjun had decided his next target then and there. With his loverboy history going back years; he was confident he would eventually win this girl too , after all he had never failed. His charm and flambyoance with a seductive smile always attracted women. In his little number of years of youth, he had already had a handful of affairs. And there he was today, this girl waiting in his own room, sitting on his laptop, viewing the pics they had taken through the wonderful day-out they had just had. She was obviously happy and his room mates surprised , Damn Arjun had done it again and still no luck for them!!

"Okay guys, I am heading out to Mac, and just so that you guys know, i dont want any of your ****ing faces even within a mile range" Arjun had a bad habbit of showing off his skills and especially on the day he wooed his girl for the first time, he used to be on the seventh heaven. Apart from what he was with women, he was a great friend for his friends who always stood up to help them with whatever he could , which at most times, was everything that was required.Probably this was the reason, he was free to abuse and insult his buddies through his jokes whenever he wanted , just out of habbit, and they never did mind.Arjun's thunderbird had raced off in minutes with the girl on his back-seat.

10.1
Pathan to Kamran Akmal, OUT, Pathan strikes! The ball was pitched on leg and middle stump and it went straight through to Akmal who tried to pull, it was short and came slowly off the pitch, completely beating Akmal, he got hit on the pad in front of off and middle and Gould sends him on his way, replays show that the ball might have pitched outside leg stump ...


"There comes the first blow, we need another wicket soon to get a grip". The doorbell rang, and he started moving towards the door. He was not expecting anyone at this hour, in fact he did not want to; he wanted to be left alone today, with the India-pakistan match running on the plasma TV and thoughts of his past in his mind. He did not want to be bothered with anything else. He wanted this day for himself and he wasnt gonna share this moment with anyone. He pulled the hinge of the door and it was the guy from the nearby bakery. " Sir, how are you today? I came to tell you the good news that with God's grace we are going to start a new section to our bakery and so we arranged a little opening ceremony in the evening. It would be great if you could join us". "Ah, ok, congrats, not sure whether I would be able to but..." he was about to say "Chhavi would love to.." when he realised she wasnt there anymore; how much she used to love plum-cakes, he remembered. Instead he said, "I will try my best, thank you". The bakery-man was on his way looking excited and happy. He closed the door and inched forward towards the TV.

16.6
The umpires have called for drinks. India have managed to keep Pakistan to 67 for 1 after 17 overs. Butt, however, is in excellent form. He usually is against India and it's up to him to anchor this Pakistan innings. With heavy hitters to come, Pakistan are in a solid position to post a sizable total.


"I have two tickets for the 2 PM show" ; he bulrted out as soon as she picked up the phone.
"No way!! I have to return home after college, mom would kill me"
"nah, she wouldnt, you bet!!" he tried to be cheeky.
"no Arj, not today,impossible"
"impossible is nothing , my dear, just say your lecture got extended"
"nooo, i am not going to lie".
"1.30 sharp, Centre circle"
"I am not coming"
"I will be waiting". He hung up, adamant as always, he wasnt born to listen to others. And yes, he reached Centre Cirle at 1:40, only to find her waiting , in sky blue top and navy blue jeans, anger on her nose and about to shout out loud and he knew she wouldn't give a damn of so many people being around; he was sure to get a blast. She hated him being late, and he loved her getting angry.

17.5
Harbhajan Singh to Salman Butt, OUT, an awful mix-up and Butt has to go, Butt tried to close the face of the bat and play the ball on the leg side, he got a leading edge which rolled towards extra cover, Butt set off for the single but Younis sent him back, Yuvraj had moved quickly to his left from cover, picked the ball up with one hand and threw it back to Dhoni who broke the stumps with Butt well short, big wicket for India.


"Oh boy!! are you trying to tell me you are in love?"
"Yes buddy, I think I am ; this time".
"and you expect me to believe it?"
"well, why not?"
"Why not? Are you kidding me? Do you think you can live with one girl forever; in last 3 years , you have perhaps changed your girlfriends at least 10 times, and man , you have had variety, naah, you cant fall in love, you just cant manage , i know you"
"Now, why do you say that Sam?"
"Come on, you know it!! You cant take all that nagging and emotional ****, love is difficult, you are not meant to do that, you have seen only the good part yet!!"
"I am ready to take whatever comes, but I am serious this one time, i know that"
"Well, we will see"
It was true, Arjun never knew the worst he could receive, he had had fun over last few years, he had broken hearts when relationships had asked for sacrifices, when his girls became possessive and demanding. He hated emotional dialogues , "you sound filmy" he would tell them, an affair for him meant just going out, having fun, showing off his friends that he had the hottest chick by his side, and may be many more ; but he never cared about anyone's sentiments.But now, he felt for the first time in his life, things were changing and he knew it was for good, only if he realised what was to come next.

26.5
Kartik to Mohammad Yousuf, 2 runs, dropped, Yousuf tries to loft the ball across the line, he gets beaten by the turn across him and hits the ball with the toe end of the bat, the ball flies in the air in the direction of extra cover, Ganguly runs to his right, looking over his shoulder but he never got into position to catch it, he moved far too slowly and the ball fell just out of his reach, he barely got hands to that, a quicker fielder would have got to it easily.

"Do you know what time is it?"
"Yes; its 9 PM".
"Dont you have to go home?"
"No, I am dying here tonight in your arms"
"Why do you trust me so much?"
"I Love you"
"Dont you believe what they say about me? Arent you scared?"
"i just believe you"
"but its a fact , you know that, i have been very bad in the past"
"I know everything, but I know you love me and you wont ever betray me" she hugged him more tightly and planted a kiss on his cheeks. He used to sport a trimmed beard then.

He was scared of her trust, he knew he did love her equally, but he was afraid of himself, his nature, his own past, of which he used to boast until a few days back. Now he wondered whether he would ever get bored of her too and be compelled to leave her; or situations will make him do so may be. He promised to himself, whatever happens his life is now devoted to her and he wont ever do anything to hurt her.At that very moment, he felt himself committed and immediately got a sense of belongingness, like he had been running for years only to reach this point, and it was then that they made love for the first time.It was heavenly.


29.5
Harbhajan Singh to Younis Khan, OUT, caught in the deep! Younis comes down the track and tries to clear the long-on boundary, he didn't time it well enough and hit it straight to Pathan on the boundary who takes a simple catch, Younis falls at a crucial time

He loved omeletes; he had always loved them. Right through-out college and then his first few years of job too, he hardly remembered a day when he went without eggs. She was a hardcore vegetarian, still she had cooked omeletes for him through-out their days together, and learned many types , french, indian, spanish and what not!! Very seldom people do experiments with omelets but wasnt she ready to do anything to please him!! " Your boring egg is fried now" she shouted from the kitchen. He was busy playing Quake-3 , only to shout back, "bring it on, baby" , another one of his teasings, he knew she hated being called baby. It was just when there was a knock on the door. He felt irritated. That his friends were away for one whole day, he was sure he would spend the Sunday with her. He, however, went forward to answer the un-invited guest. He was trying to recognise the familiar face , when he heared Chhavi's voice from behind, "Dad!!"

34.2
Khan to Shahid Afridi, SIX, what a shot that is, Afridi stands on the front foot and pulls the ball over the long-on boundary, that wasn't that short from Zaheer but was dispatched with a lot of power, the first six of the innings.


Yes, both of them had gone out of ways to marry each other. Their families had a lot of differences, in culture, in language, in beliefs, in habbits and in every possible way. His friends had had the opportunity to pay back whatever he had done all these years for them and they grabbed the opportunity with both hands. He had spent only 2 years in his job by then and she was still in college, but they managed to settle down their own world somehow, and they were happy. "They would agree eventually, after all they are our parents" he had thought. His father was a big business tycoon and Arjun never had wanted to join his business. He had stayed away from his house, and wanted to make his own career, now he was thankful he had done so. It was made clear to him, he would have no right on his dad's property if he married this girl. But he hadnt cared. In fact, he couldnt see anything apart from her, he was so damn blind in love, and she was the perfect match.


38.5
Tendulkar to Shahid Afridi, OUT, stumped! Afridi tries to charge Tendulkar and make room to hit over the off side by backing towards leg, Tendulkar once again sees him coming and bowls it quicker and outside off stump, the ball spins away from Afridi, beats the outside edge of his bat and Dhoni whips off the bails with Afridi stranded.

"How is she?" were his first words as soon as he got his senses back. He realised he was in hospital , a nurse gazing at him, another near some graphic monitor.
"She is fine, still in coma, but out of danger", the elderly nurse had said.He had a sense of relief, the entire episode flashed back in front of him. He had been told not to drive rash by numerous people , but he had never listened to them. "Biking is for fearless men, and its my passion." he would boast. Now he had made a mistake of his life, it was a steep turn and he was confident he could make it by a sheer tilt, without reducing speed, but he had been proved wrong. The lorry coming from the other side had tried its best to avoid the crash, but it was too late. Now resting in the hospital bed he thanked his Gods that she was alive and safe.
"I want to see her, immediately" he tried to get up. It hit him back just then, he couldnt walk up to her, not now , not ever. He had lost his legs.

40.2
Tendulkar to Shoaib Malik, OUT, caught in the deep! Tendulkar bowls a nice juicy full toss which really should have been dispatched over the boundary, instead Malik gets his front foot out of the way and pulls the ball straight to Gambhir on the deep midwicket boundary, Tendulkar gets lucky with a loose ball.

Chhavi was out of coma soon and out of hospital. He was released 2 weeks after her. When he was taken home,he found Chhavi had taken all responsibilities. He knew she was a tough woman, and he respected her for that. But he hadnt expected she would stand upright at this moment and be able to support both of them. She had accepted the job offer she previously was going to refuse, and was ready to do all it takes. "You think we should let your mom know?"she had asked over the evening tea. "no, Dad must not know, I am never going back to them because of my need". He was still the arrogant lad and furious with his dad.His dad was always a businessman first and a father later. He found his self respect being crushed in going back to him. It would prove he had lost, and he wasnt ready to accept defeat. He knew he would still be able to do something soon, for herself and Chhavi. He would apply for jobs soon. After all , he was a software programmer and he did not need legs for his job. His mind was still fit and he could do things just ok even with his legs gone.

45.5
Pathan to Mohammad Yousuf, FOUR, Yousuf moves across his stumps and plays a fine paddle-sweep to the right of the fielder at short fine leg, once it beats him there's no stopping it.Pakistan 193/5.


"I dont want noodles for dinner again, I am done with them, you understand that?" He had shouted for the first time on Chhavi, in his life. He knew recently Chhavi had been busy at her job and hadnt had time to cook , after all the care that Arjun's health had asked for. He had applied for several jobs and eventually selected for one too, only to realize he had not just lost his legs, but his ability to sit for long hours. He used to get nausea once he worked for more than an hour. He had tried hard, very hard to sustain, but destiny had something else planned for him. He was declared unfit for the job and was back to his wheelchair in his small 1 bedroom-hall-kitchen house. Sitting alone all day, watching TV, waiting for Chhavi to be back and cook for him. Frustration was on its peak and he saw no light at the end of the tunnel!! He knew she loved him more than anything, and that was what kept him alive. He knew he would be back one day and everything would be all right, because Chhavi would tell her that every night before he went to bed.

Pakistan have finished with 239 for 7. Its a fighting total, one that could give us a tight chase if Pakistan bowl well. Yousuf held the innings together with 83 off 88 balls after Butt gave them a solid start. The other batsmen, however, failed to contribute to the momentum and Pakistan's intensity dropped during the middle overs when Harbhajan and Kartik bowled superb spells.


To be continued...

Waiting for the sun

The lady was walking fast. It looked like she was being chased by someone or was in much hurry to reach somewhere. She looked back once, twice and when assured nothing and no one was behind her; she moved ahead. Her high heels were not of much help in her little marathon. She must have been sweating if it was a sunny day , but thanks to the weather which had suddenly changed for the past couple of days.

She reached the main gate and flashed her card to the security man who was standing upright waiting to thrash any intruder. He looked at the card, then looked at the girl's face and then looked down again. His eyebrows raised and it was clear he was suspicious of something. He signaled something in the wireless device he had with him and then moving closer to the girl, muttered few words. Much to his amusement, the girl looked disturbed by this development of situation. Obviously she had expected to be let-in straight away. She looked annoyed, walked a few steps clutching her fists and swearing, again went back to ask something. This time a lady guard appeared from inside and with a not-so friendly smile; welcomed her in.

Once inside, she was taken to a security room which was dark and smoky inside. By this time , she was panicking. She could not understand how come this place, for which she had traveled so far could be so harsh to her. How could her identity be in a question here? She was asked to wait in the room and she felt as if no living thing could survive more than an hour in this place and she would be gasping for air if someone didn't come to her rescue soon. She had quit smoking a few months back, but now she longed for a cigarette. She wished she had one with her, she could go out and without her fear behind her, she would light it and enjoy it till the last puff. She remembered the last cigarette she had had with Abraham and what had happened just after that; and the very thought of the nightmare which she had crossed; sent chills to her bones. she sat on the stool kept there which made a metal noise because of movement and it echoed in the room. she bowed her head and tried to gather more strength and courage to go through this. She kept telling herself that this was the end of all miseries, this place will be the end of all pains. Now that she had reached here, it was just a matter of few minutes that someone would come and recognize her and she would be embraced with all the affection in the world. It will be all and over soon and nothing could take it away from her now that she had done so much and left so much behind to reach here; she just deserved every bit of what was truly hers. All the pain and agony which she had gone through, all those sufferings were about to come to an end. She longed for a peaceful sleep and now was the time.