Monday, September 22

Blood Is Red, So Is A Blush


Team Name :  Maximus Dramaticus

‘Life is a rollercoaster ride’. Wasn’t that the phrase people utter eloquently to define life in the most pragmatic of ways! Paresh recalled as he sat manoeuvring the steering wheel of his Porsche, staring deep  into the gloominess, cloaked in black, that lay seamlessly ahead. Getting a bail was the easiest thing a person of his stature could do! Did they miss that! 

Life was indeed a roller coaster ride for Paresh. It had been so since twenty years back when he led an utterly unpredictable life with his age old debilitated parents who toiled their days in the scorching sun in all desperation to make two ends meet. Having cleared his high school with quite a good percentage, though by devouring bits and pieces of information from the tattered books his friends had lent him , he had looked upon himself as an intelligent boy for his age and descendant. But wasn’t life cruel to him?! - For burying his parents in the deadliest pit of fate and for strangulating him in its nefarious clutches at the most crucial of times.

Joining law school a couple of years later with the money he had amassed through the many stinking deals, he knew that he had made the wisest decision – a sturdy anchor for his well sculptured future plans.

Few minutes later, sensing his arrival the automated gates slid slowly apart to let him into his compound. The enormous building, another fruit of his crooked mysterious deeds, appeared eerie shrouded by the blanket that was night.

The shiny, well pecked name board fixed onto the ivory white porch wall smiled proudly at him.

‘Prof. Paresh Borah’

A delirious smile broke out at the corners of his mouth as he read his name out aloud with utmost delight.

The vigorous flap of a night bird was what prompted him to jerk back the very next moment!

 He cringed his eyes in an effort to see through the darkness, the long palm trees lining his garden aisle morphing into lean scary shadows before him.

‘Mr.Paresh’

A familiar voice echoed his name out from somewhere, the direction of which seemed almost untraceable for his confused mind now almost clogged with terror. Paresh stood froze from head to toe at the sound of the intruder, a muffled cry escaping his lips in fear of his own safety. But the very next moment, he knew his life was not something he could carry locked forever, not atleast when caught unarmed and unaware. 

The night bird shrieked in its highest pitch muffling the many groans that followed as if to play partner in crime to the strange intruder. As fresh red drops of blood trickled down from the battered wounds on Paresh’s body, which lay crumpled on the ice cold floor, the intruder heaved a sigh of relief for having brought down one of the strongest preys any hunter would encounter in a lifetime.

                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cyrus checked his watch while flipping past the case file he had conjured himself up with all the precious evidences he had collected. It was half past eleven.

‘Why was Jenny not answering his call? Was she tired of all the miserable happenings unwinding around them? In a way, aren’t i the one responsible for dragging her into all these?’.He thought resentfully, gloom shadowing starkly on his eyes now weighed down with sleep.

He tore apart a piece of paper from his file and started scribbling few things on it hurriedly :

   1.   Who took Jenny away?
   2.   Why was Tara called up to Jenny’s hide out? How did Tara know Samantha Naik?
   3.  What did they talk which prompted Tara to drag police into the scene and to go public with the smugglers?
   4. The forensic report – Tell Tara about it the first thing tomorrow.
   5.  Is Shekhar hiding something?

 Remembering the many phone calls that had come specifically for Shekhar, Cyrus highlighted the last query with his flashy fluorescent pen. Nuggets of mysteries lay strewn randomly which needed to be held together in a string if he should win the case, Cyrus knew. The fact that his partners too had started adding smoky fumes into the already foggy days was bogging Cyrus down.

‘Where is Jenny?’ Cyrus dialled her number a third time in anticipation that she would answer his call.

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wide eyed, Jenny fixed her stare on her laptop screen which was adorned with one of the most favourite of her childhood snaps. The title of the blogpost written in a sky blue shade read –

AYear To wait

‘Dreary and parched the last day passed ,
I carry with me your memories locked.
But still, why do i smile to a blossoming thought ?
Like the angels  let me in their  secret plot
The strength shot back much fierce and strong ,
Yes , i should wait for you, if or not i am wrong .’

 Intrigued, Jenny started reading Cyrus’s blogposts one after the other in chronological order. Scrolling through his archives she stumbled upon quite many posts which made the Piscean in her curious . She clicked on the titles one after the other rapaciously, a warm pink hue spreading on her cheeks.

She could feel the thumping of her heart which was beating asynchronously as she skipped past the routine posts, a newly found ardour firing her spirit like never before.

She noticed a drop in the number of posts since the Mysterious Monday incidents ensued, with the last post featuring yet another of her pretty childhood snaps accompanied by a verse –

‘The sublime you captivate me
  In your smile blooms my loveliest verse ~ 
  My muse forever you remain’

The soft hum of her cell phone started beating in the background as if to lend beauty to the moment.

‘Cyrus again’, Jenny thought, a twinkle playing in her eyes.

Pondering over whether or not to answer his call, Jenny tapped at her table, the cool breeze gushing into the room bringing with it emotions and dilemmas, most of them unprecedented ones and the others equally mysterious.

The harrowing events of the past week flashed across her mind, stinging her deep. Being a captive in the scariest dungeon was never part of her plan while rushing to Delhi to help Cyrus out, nor was being part of one of the most controversial cases of the year! 

She had almost reached for her phone to call back Cyrus, all the while scrolling down blog post after blog post in a fervour to decipher Cyrus deeper, when a familiar face shot across in one of the posts.

Taking a closer look at the photograph Jenny cried out amused - 

‘ Wow! Now that is a surprise. What are you doing here, Aryan?!’

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read the next part of the story here

“Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.”

                                     

5 comments:

  1. ...and just as I thought that the tempo of the story was decelerating, you came along, quite literally. yes, the story is back on its track and gnashing its way through live and kicking metaphors. Loving it.

    Arvind Passey
    www.passey.info

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  2. Beautiful piece of writing. Loved the words used esp. the poem :)

    Btw do these lines "... the battered wound on Paresh’s temple, the intruder .. brought down one of the strongest preys .." mean that Paresh was killed. As per Blogadda rule, I hope the next writer should bring him to life or let's say he was severely wounded . Correct me if I'm wrong.

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  3. I read all the parts till now in one go and omg cannot wait for the next part.... loving it!

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  4. Cyrus writes poem too. Awesome lines of poem. Cyrus checklist became our checklist too :)

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