The muslin cloth


At 10 minutes before midnight, the confetti spread with an explosion and instantly blanketed the sky in a golden white slush. The celebration had already been kicked off even before the clock could strike the first hour of the New Year. Ravi glanced out of his hotel room and saw people drinking and dancing on loud music in the garden downstrairs, where Mr.Mehrotra, the business tycoon, had thrown a lavish party. 

The festivities around him reminded him of his home. He spent his childhood with his younger sister Meenu and mother in a small village near the coast. His mother would be mostly ill and so he had to leave school and work as a delivery boy to support the house. He was known to always reach on time and execute each assignment so well that several grocery and meat shops employed him. He used to bring home 400 each month from the shops and a handful of more money if some customers were generous enough to give a tip after delivery. Every morning his day started with cleaning his bicycle with a muslin cloth that his mother had herself knitted for the purpose. He would then clean the home and get ready for work. At times, he would also go to the sweet shop down the corner and work there as a waiter.

There were some days around the end of the month when they had to sleep empty stomach. But no one complained; they rather used to enjoy every moment. He would bring home sweets and toffees for Meenu whenever he earned a little extra. To see the twinkle in her eyes upon the sight of shining orange toffees was a jewel. He yearned for each such moment when he could bring a smile to his little baby doll. The only problem they faced were the repetitive attempts by Kishan chacha to acquire the disputed land of his grandfather. Every other day he would come home and ask Maa to sign the land documents or else be ready to face the consequences. Maa would show the least signs of being bothered and always proclaimed that she would fight for her husband’s land till death. Ravi always marveled the unfaltering way her mother would set her point in front of Kishan chacha.

Their life was on the usual smooth way until one day when the tides turned. On one night 3 of Kishan’s men suddenly barged suddenly into their home while everyone was asleep. They tried to strangle both the kids and forced Maa to place her thumb on a sheet of paper. Maa was helpless; she pleaded in front of the scoundrels on her knees and had no option but to accede to their demand. Soon after that they left. Minu succumbed to the impact on her neck and Maa was broken to see her daughter die before her. Both of them breathed their last that night. Ravi still shivered whenever the thoughts of the fateful day crossed his mind.

He had come a long way in the past 10 years after his mom’s death. He had got a new job in Delhi and was earning well on each deal. He had even bought a new car last month and had every luxury one could think of.  Yet he preferred to stay away from crowds and lead a lonely life. He would normally stay home and would work only when his boss called to give instructions for his next assignment. His boss was too pleased with him and always admired the way in which he would take care of each small detail in his work.

Ravi got deeply engrossed in his thought process when a brief beep on his cell phone held his attention. He stared at the flickering screen of his cell and found a text from his boss. It was for reminding him his task for tonight saying "All the best for today. This would be the biggest assignment so far"

He took a deep breath and walked towards the suitcase at the far end of the room. He first took out a sheet of paper with 22 names written on it. He went through each one of them from the beginning, the first one being Kishan written in bold black. He wrote the 23rd addition to the list ‘Santosh Mehrotra’ and took the muslin cloth and cleaned up his sniper rifle.

It was time. It was time to start his next assignment.

Comments

nalin goel said…
Great post!!
Reminded me of Dexter!!!
Arun Prakash said…
This could have been my story iff.....
ankit said…
Nalin +1
Even reminds me of 70-80s bollywood movies
hekkum said…
Reminds me of story of O-Ren-Ishii [ Kill-Bill fame] :D
hekkum said…
For those who have not seen the movie ;)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1D8Kaz4_XE
Anushri said…
Reminds me of the short stories by Aseem Kaul in the collection called etudes.
shobhit said…
:( feel nahi aayi...means beech main aayi jab kishan chacha aaye ghar main :)..Upkaar muvi yaad aa gyi :P..but last main kuch bikhra bikhra sa tha..may be a reason could be you tried to keep it brief and concise..but still love to read your posts..keep doing..:)
Mohita Menon said…
@hekkum so Quentin Tarantino thinks like me :P
@Anushri sounds interesting.. lemme see if i can find a copy
@shobhit in my attempt to keep it short, I might have lost the continuity :( tried to keep in a lot of stuff together .. thnx n keep commenting :)
@all even though all can find similarity wid a lot of diff works, I am happy that I started thinking in-line-of/similar to good writers :D :D yeye :)

Popular posts from this blog

Random: Musings from Harry Potter to Diwali

Untitled

The lakeside