Chapter %

5. a


“Tell me Sanjay” said the old blind king “What are my sons doing?....I know you can see them…don’t you?...and you see my brother’s sons too…so tell me now…what is happening?...has the war begun??....tell me fast…I don’t want to miss a thing…I know you can see it all…you dare not try to fool me kid….I may be blind…but my eyes are in your mind…so tell me son…tell me all of it!”

And the televiser begins.

He tells him all that he sees. He describes the Warfield to him. With all the warriors in it. With all their weapons. And their chariots. He describes the order in which the warriors are standing in the war field. And he describes their lineage. Not to miss it. The most important element in a social structure. The lineage.

“Action!...action!!...I want some action!!!” old blind king shouts on televiser, bored of his monotonous vocalizations.

“But…”
“Chuck it!…I don’t want this…you show me some action or I replace you..”
“I am sorry!...” the televiser apologises. “And….” He continues.
“And what?”
“And the archer prince is asking the flutist to bring his chariot at the centre of the battleground…”

“Why?” the old blind king interrupts.

“Because the archer prince wants to see his friends and enemies from an equal distance…” the televiser reveals.

“Both?” wonders the old blind king.

“The enemies especially…” the televiser clarifies.

***

“I haundu hawk hoo yoo…” Piyush woke me up. He had a toothbrush stuck in his mouth and his mouth was filled with lather.

“What?” I was half-asleep lazing in my bed before waking up. I turned towards him with a great effort.

He left. I thanked god, closed my eyes and sank my head in the pillow again.
“I want to talk to you” He returned with clean teeth. Sparkling bright. Bright enough to wake me up.

“About?” I asked rubbing my eyes.
“Shamita…”
‘Good morning!’ I said to myself. I rose up and sat the bed resting my back on the wall besides it.

“Good morning…” Piyush said. Wow! He was preparing to be a very good corporate arse taker. He threw a regard before someone easily before showing disregards towards their immediate priorities.

“Yeah…good morning…tell me…”
“Do you remember you said that day??” He asked me inquisitively.

“About Whhhaaaaattt?” I yawned with the question. My brain was taking time to recover from the series of dreams I had seen as I slept. And the bright flash of this teeth too.

“About taking a stand…”
“Yeah I do…” Damn! This wasn’t the time to discuss it.

“I am taking a stand” He said firmly.
“Great!” I said with a forcibly induced enthusiasm.

“Yes…I have decided…I want Shamita!” He said, charged with determination. He actually did it swelling his chest and looking into my sleepy eyes.

“Are you sure…” I ask him just to check if he is speaking it out of morning dreaminess.

“Yes…and I am ready to stand against anybody…be it Harshad or any body” he says pressing on the last hissing sound.

“That’s like it…like a real man!...Be whatever I am with you dude!”

I did say it. I had a strong upsurge in me which made me say it. It was beyond my control. An upsurge of triumph. Piyush was standing up. Against Harshad. Bhenchod this was it what I was waiting for. The fumes of revenge had enraged once again. Incensed to avenge the humiliation. And Piyush’s determination had given it the power to engulf. The power to burn down the scars of a mortification engraved upon me. The power to heal the pain which recurs in me at the thought of the day. The pain in the jaw. The pain in the belly. The pain in the thigh. And the pain in the pride.

“But before that…” Piyush continued “I want you to help me with something…”
“What?” I ask.

“I want to test him…” Piyush says looking at me intently.

“Yes…let’s do it!”

***

“Then what does the flutist do?” asked the old blind king.

“He drives the chariot to the centre of the battlefield” answered his loyal televiser.



(Contd.)