Ravi stood in
front of the door and carefully observed the three wobbly locks, hanging smugly
from the latches. He bent down and unlocked them with the chunky keys given to
him by the landlord. Ravi pushed the door with gusto but it opened a little too
easily, leaving him misbalanced for a moment. He pulled his trolley bag inside
and glanced around the flat. It was a modest 1 BHK strewn with old wooden
furniture coated in a layer of dust. The smell in the air was, thankfully, a dry
and sterile one. This would be Ravi’s home for the next 7 months.
He took a tour
of the flat, poking and gliding his fingers on random stuff. This examination
did not help him to figure out a way to convert the place into a cosy inviting
home. He sat down on the nearest chair and dialled quickly the number of the
person he missed the most, his wife.
Ravi was a
government employee who loved the predictability of his existence. He used to
live with his wife and son in a small city close to his office. Through their
fifteen years of marriage he and his wife, Kavita had always maintained a reasonably
low fight index and Ravi was a complacent man who never longed for a bigger
life in a bigger city and was grateful for what life had given him. However this did not last forever and one fine
day he was transferred to the small, nondescript town of Lohapur, far away from his home.
Ravi tried to
frame the haphazard ideas in his head into sentences the moment he heard
Kavita’s phone ring.
“Hello…have you
reached the flat?”
“Yes…I’m sitting
inside. Nice place…a bit too small though.”
“Good…the
smaller, the easier to maintain.”
Kavita had
clearly instructed Ravi to not employ a maid.
“Listen…the
place looks kind of…unclean. Also the kitchen equipment looks dicey to me. I
was thinking…”
“You can’t hire
a maid. ”
“How will I do
it all by myself?”
“Then find a man
servant!”
“Oh please…like men
are readily available to cook and clean.”
“Look, a middle
aged man, living alone, can’t hire a maid.”
“You think
I’d try to sleep with the maid?!”
“It’s not about you. I trust you. But some
maids make wrong allegations and try to extract money. Why...”
Kavita’s voice
trailed off as the phone battery died. Ravi sighed and walked over to his trolley bag to dig out the charger. Then setting the phone to charge from an electrical
outlet, he went out to explore the town.
The soil was
moist from a quick downpour of fine rain and it exuded a refreshing fragrance.
Ravi saw a lone man, turning on the street lamps one by one. For some reason it
reminded him of his 4th grade text book and he smiled in nostalgia.
And as Ravi’s legs traced out the lane in front, his mind went over various
disconnected trains of thought. He finally reached an eatery at the end of the
road. It was a small one, devoid of any show or frill and two long bare benches
were laid out paired with two narrow tables.
As soon as Ravi
sat down, a boy came out with a kettle and offered him tea. Ravi nodded in
assent, pleased with the prompt hospitality. The boy poured him out a cup,
placed two locally made cookies in a small plate and ran back inside to attend
to other chores. Ravi sipped his tea and observed the three people managing the
shop together. Man, woman and son were working busily; the structure made him
think of his own family. He imagined his wife back in home, sitting down with
their son at their 4-seater dining table. Kavita must be helping their child
with his lessons while she chopped vegetables for dinner. Ravi longed badly to
be in the same room, huddled up on his favourite couch, silently reading a book
or taking a nap.
“What’ll you have brother? Evening snack or dinner?” The man was now standing in front of
Ravi. He was rather thin, dressed in a grey T shirt and a pair of faded shorts.
“Dinner, I’ll have
a full meal,” Ravi said quickly.
The man went
back in and within a few minutes his wife came out and placed in front of Ravi a
plate of hot rotis, curry, salad and pakodas.
Ravi’s empty
tummy rumbled in joy to see the spread and he happily began to eat. The man stood close to him and stared for some time.
“Brother seems
to be new here,” he commented finally.
“I got
transferred to this town recently…I rented out a place down this lane,” Ravi
pointed towards his place with his hand.
“Do you need a helper at home? My wife works
in several homes in this area.”
Ravi hesitated
for a moment.
“Erm…if I don’t
manage to get transferred back to my home town in a few months, my wife and my
kid will join me here. In that case we’ll hire her.”
“I see. Let me
know if you need anything.”
“I’m not much of
a cook, the food here is really good. At what times can I eat here?” said Ravi.
“Any time you
want. Tell me your exact address, my son will deliver the food to your door-step.”
The additional
chore of doing the dishes scared Ravi and he declined the offer quickly.
“I’ll come here
to eat. It’s a small walk that I like.”
Ravi washed his
hands in the tap water and walked over to the bamboo counter to pay his bill.
“The washerman
lives right round the corner,” the man said as he counted the money.
“Thank you…you got
me sorted in one sitting,” replied Ravi with a smile.
He walked back leisurely to his flat. Once inside he was dismayed to find that his
phone was still dead. The charging point turned out to be faulty. Ravi pushed
the charger into the socket and beat it several times to get the electricity finally
flowing. He sighed and went to bed thinking of his home. And then his sweet
thoughts slowly merged into beautifully weird dreams as he fell into a deep
sleep.
In the morning
Ravi was up earlier than usual. As he looked out from the parted curtains of
his new bedroom, he saw the most glorious view of the rising sun. The orange
round ball of luminosity made the natural greenery look alive and enchanted.
All of a sudden the sun reminded Ravi of the orange-yellow yolk of a boiled
duck egg.
Realizing his
urgent need for breakfast, Ravi got himself cleaned and ready very fast. He
opened his door to go out when he found a newspaper lying on the floor.
He tucked the
newspaper in his armpit as he locked his door.
And then he started to read news as he proceeded towards the eatery.
It was while munching on hot toast and
omelette that Ravi first realized that the newspaper in his hands was not quite
correct. Argentina cannot lose the second league match already as it was scheduled a
week away. A look at the date gave him a shock. The date printed was 7 days
ahead in future. Ravi folded the newspaper promptly and put it back in his office
bag. A quick look around ensured him that no one was interested in him or his
paper and he happily went back to his half eaten breakfast.
At office Ravi
was careful to not take out his paper. What if someone wanted to borrow it from
him? He certainly did not want to be the new rude guy who refuses to share
morning news.
The hours flew
by lazily till 11 o’clock announced the entry of his new boss. Ravi gave him
exactly 15 minutes to settle down in his cabin and then he followed him inside.
Ravi asked
without much concealment if an early transfer back to his home town was
feasible. Despite the generous display of Ravi’s even white teeth, the boss was
not impressed. He said a curt no and redirected him back to a pile of pending
work. Ravi somehow managed to bear the infinite boredom that the next hours
brought to him before he could rush home to be with the precious paper. For a
week Ravi kept his secret to himself and made a mental note of the key events
the newspapers brought to him every day.
On the seventh
day evening Ravi prayed against Argentina for the first time in his life as
they played against Croatia. As soon as the match ended, Ravi stood up alone in
standing ovation inside his flat. Croatia had won with a 3-0 score line. The
veracity of his time travelling newspaper was now authenticated.
In the next few
days Ravi’s popularity shot up in office. He got involved in all possible
discussions and made interesting comments and observations about everything. And
his judgement turned out to be remarkably accurate every single time.
His son, a
supporter of Germany, jeered at him regularly for Argentina’s sorry plight.
“Pride goes before fall,” Ravi simply said,
barely able to control his chuckle as he gazed at the ousted German faces in
the newspaper held in his hands.
At work Ravi’s
colleagues started to look up to him and came up to him for random advice and
tips. His conversations with his wife became more fun. His wife mistook his
enthusiasm as romance stemming from the separation and was giddy with joy. Ravi
was enjoying the spree as well. For the first time in life he had actual topics
to talk about. He finally felt big enough to fill Kavita’s need for long
conversations.
Things were
going great in Ravi’s life till the day when he read about the death of Lully
Sahane in an accident. Lully was an upcoming television actress who hailed from
Ravi’s home town. He sat numb for a few minutes and read the news again. He
nervously went to office wondering what he should do. At office work pressure
and casual banter took his mind was off the matter for a while.
But soon in the
evening, back in his apartment, he was uneasy and restless. Finally on the day
of the accident he placed a frantic call to his wife.
“Kavita can you
get the phone number of Lully Sahane?”
“Lully Sahane?
The actress? How? Why?”
“Nothing
really.”
“No I can’t! Why
will she give me her number? And why do you need it?”
“A colleague wanted to talk to her,” Ravi
lied.
“What? Did you
brag about her and us being from the same town? Come out clean to your new
friend instead of trying to get her phone number like a creepy stalker!” Kavita
laughed.
Ravi sighed as
the call disconnected.
The next day
passed in a tense stupor for Ravi. He grimaced every time the phone rang but no
bad news about the actress came and he went to bed with a clear conscience. It
was in the early hours of the next day that his wife called him to inform him
of Lully’s demise.
“Just two days
back we were discussing her. Can you imagine that she was just hours away from
a grisly accident?”
It was the first
time since getting the futuristic newspapers that Ravi felt depressed. His
shoulders drooped, his eyes sunk and his gaze appeared vacant in the course of
the next days. And despite the changes being overtly visible, it was his wife
who noted the shift and not his colleagues.
After a lot of
coaxing Ravi told his wife about the weird series of events.
“I…I feel
responsible for her death,” Ravi cried into the phone.
As always
sharing the burden with his wife made him feel lighter. They continued to
discuss news and bit by bit Kavita managed to counsel her husband out of the
guilt.
“Avoid serious
news. Confine yourself to the sports section only. And relay back to me what
you read...I still feel that you might be imagining things.”
Following his
wife’s counsel helped Ravi a lot. He started to joke again with his co workers,
consoled his son for Germany’s ouster and hinted to his irate boss about Brazil
surpassing Argentina in the coming weeks. Pleased with the prediction, the boss
began to show the first signs of leniency towards Ravi. It seemed that life was
back on track for Ravi.
However in the
next morning, before Ravi could turn the newspaper over to the sports pages his
attention was caught by the bloodied body displayed all over the front page.
The MLA of a
neighbouring district had been murdered in Rajiv Gandhi assassination style. Ravi
sunk into the details of the case, forgetting all about his wife’s warning. It
was a terrorist attack at a public rally. The top investigators had some leads
and were working on the case.
Ravi looked up
and pursed his lips as his mind raced through probable plans. The coming few days
will bring more details about the terrorist…enough for him to stop the incident
from actually happening. He got up and went out for a smoke.
For one long
hour Ravi walked around the desolate town restlessly. MLA Thakur was different
from the usual corrupt lot. He was working hard to bring about changes; he certainly
did not deserve an untimely death. When Ravi returned to his flat, he had made
up his mind. His phone rang out suddenly, startling him for a second. It was
Kavita.
“I just had a
great idea Ravi...we’re going to be rich!”
“How?” Ravi
scratched his head and slumped back on the bed.
“Why don’t you buy the 7 day lottery tickets?
Note the winning number and buy that ticket.”
“What if it’s
sold out?”
“Aim to buy the
whole list of winners…all can’t be sold out.”
Ravi sat up and
cracked his knuckles as he mulled over the plan. A lottery win will immediately
ease the financial pressure on him. It could mean a smoother life with more free
time. And in a minute’s span, a thousand dreams took shape in Ravi’s mind. “The
woman sure knows how to pull her husband out of malaise”, Ravi thought
cheekily.
Thus on the following day Ravi purchased 3 winning lottery tickets
from the local store. And he pretended from then on to be losing his powers at
office. He claimed that Croatia would get the World Cup and pushed into casual
conversations, a few more erroneous predictions. He had 7 days to convince them
that he had no magical powers whatsoever.
Although Ravi’s
waking hours were a lot more cheerful now, his sleep was heavily disturbed. MLA
Thakur came in his dreams every night. And in his dreams he seemed to be a very
close friend of Ravi’s. One day he had coffee with Ravi, another day they
walked together along the narrow lane of Ravi’s childhood home. With each dream
MLA Thakur’s impending death became a bigger concern for Ravi. And finally on
the day before Thakur was to be killed, he took a half day leave and ran back
to his place. He made methodical google searches trying to reach MLA Thakur. It
was 10:35 pm when he finally got the number of MLA Thakur’s manager. Ravi went
out to the nearest public telephone booth and dialled the number.
“MLA Thakur will
be attacked tomorrow at the rally. Cancel the rally if you want him alive.”
Thus offloading
the weight off his chest Ravi thumped down the phone and sprinted back towards
his flat. He looked over his shoulders many times to ensure that he was not
being followed. The surreptitious demeanour made him look exactly like a thief.
The rally was
not cancelled much to Ravi’s disappointment. He could not bear to watch the
live telecast and turned off the television. With an infinite sense of doom he
crawled into a warm blanket and stayed huddled up on the bed, staring out of
the window with a pair of worry lined eyes.
A couple of
times his phone rang but he ignored it. The rings pierced the silence of his
room but he was oblivious to it all. Finally in the evening he dragged himself
up and decided to go out to have a bite.
He found a crowd
discussing the terror attack on the MLA. A knot of pain curled up in his chest
as Ravi inched towards the group.
To his utter
disbelief he heard that MLA Thakur was not injured and the terrorist had been
nabbed by armed commandos. His face lit up with the biggest of the smiles and
he spontaneously leapt up in air. A few people turned and gave him odd stares
but Ravi did not care. For the first time in life he felt the joy of being a
superhero.
That night Ravi
went to bed jubilant. His dreams were about the upcoming lottery results and he
slept really well. He knew he would wake up to get rich.
In the morning
Ravi rushed to the door as soon as he was up and grabbed the newspaper
promptly. He ran back into the bedroom and put on his glasses to savour the
beautiful piece of lucky news.
He froze with
his first look at the newspaper. His own face stared back at him from the first
page.
“Top terror-suspect
dies a bizarre death in the sleepy town of Lohapur. ”
A throbbing pain
rose in his head as he pored over the details of his own death. It turned out
that the death was disclosed to the media a week after he was killed which
meant that Ravi had already stepped into the last day of his life.
Ravi ran up to
his window and peeped out hastily. Rows of police cars were surrounding the
humble flat. Ravi felt hot tears streaming down his face as he ran to his
mobile phone connected to the charger. His wife needed to know the truth before death came grabbing at him.
But the moment
the call to Kavita got connected, an inordinate amount of electrical charge
passed into the phone and caused a severe blast.
Ravi died in
that second, confused about what had actually killed him.
Far away in a
brightly lit hall Chitra was updating the log. Gupta walked in casually and
tapped her on the shoulder.
“Still working,
eh?”
“Balancing the
sheets dear. There was one debit less on this side.”
“Ouch what’d you
do now?”
“Done actually. Just
made another random debit and balanced it anyway!”
“You’re evil!”
Gupta laughed out aloud.
They closed the
office and walked out together.
“Aren’t you
worried about getting caught?”
“So many unscheduled deaths happen every year, Big Boss hasn't noticed a single mistake ever...why would He find out
now?”
Chitra winked
confidently at Gupta. Their job of book keeping was done for the day.
