Gunny Bag (A Short story) - Part I

They say an impending sign of doom is a sudden rush of adrenaline felt while staring at an oncoming car 3 seconds before impact. Did somebody say that, or did yours truly (P.I.Ganesh to the uninitiated) make it up while bracing himself for the collision?

"Son of a Pig!!? Got a death wish?" bellowed the Uncle, putting his head out of the gray santro. It finally screeched to a halt, inches from Gunny's (Others just called him P.I.G) shaking' legs. Cheeks flushing beetroot red, and growing increasingly aware of the growing crowd, he made a hasty depart from the scene of the crime. "Man! What was I thinking?” said Gunny his feeling of embarrassment growing. It was one thing to be involved in a humiliating scene, quite another to be on the losing side. He never would have heard the Santro's horn if it weren’t for the sudden gasps of shocks, that curious onlookers sometime are known to emit. For an eleven year old, such absent-mindedness could be construed as irregular, if not unhealthy. But Gunny had a lot on his mind; His world was tumbling around him.

"Harish is gonna laugh his head off if he heard about this", thought Gunny with a pensive frown that made a sharp vertical frown between his eyebrows. He imagined Harry and his gang of dumb overgrown chamchas clutching their stomachs and doubling over at the whole incident. Ouch! That image made him cringe a little bit more uncomfortably. He kept walking in a gloomy silence, all the while keeping watch for Harry and his cronies and further mishaps. He had had his share for today. He really didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care. He had seen his mother administered to her daily dose of beating by his father; today’s being a little more than usual. Her cries were unusually loud today, causing some of the neighbors to intervene. His house was swarming with people now; some shouting at his father to stop it while Madhu Aunty and Pamela Aunty were consoling his mother. PIG found it hard to stay a moment long; Having to listen to the spat was bad enough, he would rather be caught dead than listen to Madhu Aunty’s sympathetic remarks about life being difficult to a 11 year old.

Of course, life was difficult…need he get that from somebody who made it a point to ask him embarrassing questions about his parents, every time he encountered her outside. Arms of layered fat, like fresh dough mixed with water with the colour to match; she would make it a point to attack his thin cheeks with her built-to-perfection red, razor sharp nails. Her face reminded him of a large balloon, with appropriate orifices depicted on them. Gunny always had the suspicion that she was trying her best to be kind to him. She would always make it a point to call him aside, while he would be their house to play with Ginny. Over a period of time, he had started getting wary of going over to their place. Even Ginny’s pet Labrador failed to break his resolve to come over. Amma’s recent statement over Madhu Aunty’s bindi, when her husband was supposed to be dead somehow strengthened his decision (which he could never quite explain clearly) never to meet her.

After today’s spat, his resolve was further snowballed to an ardent vow to incommunicado.
“I don’t really see why she has to show kindness to me in the first place; I hate that beemb-oh!” thought Gunny to himself, quite pleased with the effect the sentence was making to soothe him. “Beem-boh!” he muttered to himself, this time a bit loudly. He had learnt the word a few weeks back from the very studious Ginny, who would explain the meaning later as a stupid woman. Ironical that he was using the same word about her mother.

He had neared the beach now, at least 2 kilometers from his home. The pavement on the beach road was a busy sight as usual. Hawkers of puffed rice, Balloon sellers, Beggars in tatters, Married couples across the benches, Young adolescent romeos, large families with wailing babies in tow, a typical Sunday evening.

Gunny though was lost in his own thoughts. The increasing crowds hardly fazed him, used as he was to this scene. His posture would remind someone of a grownup; Hands in pockets and the saddest kid to ever wear a Mickey Mouse cap his thoughts were slightly distracted by a group of kids of his age chattering away in abandon. Hands dug deeper into his pockets with his shoulders raised, he suddenly felt lonely. It reminded him of Harry and his goonies.

He still remembered the first time, he encountered this pack of monkeys. He and Ginny along with her pet lab, Monty had gone to the park to try out his new bicycle. Harry, his sister (the fat one) and the local gang were playing cricket and spotted them. Harry sister Lalitha was Gunny’s classmate and though they had never talked till that point, she made the first effort to involve him and Ginny into their “Gang”. Harry, the tallest among them and the clear leader by virtue of his being able to beat up anyone else was cool towards them. The first meeting, he hardly spoke to them directly and was occupied by his cronies. After the first few days, he however started taking an interest in Gunny or rather his bicycle. He offered gunny to teach him, which usually involved Gunny standing in the center of the park while Harry would have his rounds across the park all the while shouting to him about his technique. Gunny would take in the scene with equanimity, all the while thinking the best of Harry. He did not want to displease the only interesting friend he had ever met. It didn’t take long for him to join that esteemed gang of cronies, following Harry wherever he went and doing whatever he wanted. That was the only time; he had felt happiness in his ephemeral existence. Going to the park daily at 4 PM after school, meeting up with the gang and sharing tall tales about their dad’s jobs (Gunny’s was always the wildest), shared anecdotes of their teachers, Harry’s latest gadgets and played till their mothers beckoned them back.

He would have preferred it to stay that way forever, if there weren’t a couple of incidents that broke his idyll. Harry never liked the mousy looking Ginny, and her pet. She was Gunny’s neighbor and his constant companion since the beginning. It was inevitable that her entry into Harry’s gang was by large only due to Gunny. The tiny, bespectacled figure who seldom spoke a word to anyone else but Ginny would make her presence in the gang with long sullen silences, stroking the nape of Monty during their daily meetings. Harry despised her and made no bones to hide the fact with his jeering remarks about ‘Onkari Moothi’ (Scowling face) as he called her regularly. Ginny, on her part bore these remarks and if she was hurt never showed it. Gunny, would watch with wariness the growing acrimony from Harry. For his own part, he was starting to find Ginny embarrassing and a misfit in the group (somebody totally unlike him). He would slowly distance himself from Ginny, and would soon forget to call Ginny to play whenever he left from home. Harry’s disapproval only hastened the ‘rejection’ procedure of Ginny and he slowly started becoming a interested spectator of Ginny’s daily humiliation.

The day would have been quite uneventful like any other, if emotions had not found their appropriate escalation points. Gunny had rushed to the ground a little late, without bothering to call Ginny. His mother had insisted on him finishing his homework first and it was nearly 5:30 PM. He reached the ground to find a uneasy act being played. Ginny was crying, her pale face red and shouting at Harry and his gang. Harry was throwing stones at Monty, which was keeping its respectful distance and barking wildly. It couldn’t get closer to Ginny; who was trying unsuccessfully to stop the proceedings. It took him a couple of minutes for Gunny to stop the madness, with Ginny running away leaving a smug Harry behind. Gunny knew from that instant, all his friends were gone.

From that day, Ginny stopped talking to him and stopped stepping out of home to play. Harry for his part included Gunny to his ‘disapproving’ list. They started ignoring him, when he tried to join them at their regular haunt. They started making the same scathing remarks which Ginny had been subject to previously. It all had been a month ago, and they weren’t in a forgiving mood since then.

END OF PART I

We didnt start the fire......

Gunfire at IISc, Slaps at Meerut, Gangrape on Pushpak Express, Sensex at 9600, Phone Taps at CMs residence, Video Tape Scandals, Mergers and Acquisitions, Cold Waves in North India, Railways on Strike,ISRO on top,"Vivek-Ash breakup", "Aamir-Kiran" nuptials, The "Ganguly" spoofs, That "Dravid" rules, "King Kong" roars, Volkswagen-AP blues, Airlines price wars, Battle for soundbytes, Reality Shows 'Qazi', 'Abhijit Sawant' limps, Fatwas on Sania, $10 billion investments in Bharat, 'Kajra Re' rocks, Limp promises of Musharraf,Floods in Tamil Nadu, Tsunami Anniversaries and a...............................................Happy New Year 2006!

Bad Ass Diaries

So she said "Tarun, my man! why do u splatter your deeds over a public blog where everyone can read your misfortunes? Why make a spectacle of yourself?"

Well, my cool reply was " Uh-Duh...ummm... i dont think its a spectacle... u think so? ..duh...umm...uhhh".

A two week hiatus before i actually blog and post a "cooler" reply to that one....

"Im bad (roar!)......I spread myself for plain defilement for whoever might feel like doing so.... I crave the debasement.... Im cheap.... "embarass" is my middle name"

OK, that wasnt so cool.....