6. b

“Just like that?” asked the old blind king.

“Yeah!” replied the televisor.

“What….the…FUCK!….”

“Language Sir!” tapped the televisor on the king’s knee.

“I am the boss here!” said the old blind king sordidly.

Televisor took to silence.

“Shit….I can’t believe it!” The old blind king went verbal again. “What son of a gun is he…What has gone into this boy?....had his father been alive….he would have whacked the shit out of him…. Such a sissy!.....tell me further….I think it is a medium to gain publicity….since this war has highest TRPs….he is trying to encash his personal popularity as an archer with a golden heart…..what do you think?...”
The televisor maintained a rigid silence.

“What do you think?” The king asked again loudly.

The televisor did not break this vow of silence. He kept his mum.

“I know you are here…stop playing these pancy tricks with me” The king warned him again.

There was nothing but silence.

“Alright…” The king said “He’s gone I think….Is anybody there???” he said aloud “Call the Human Resource minister….we need to recruit a new televisor…ask him to pick one up from the many that come out of Televising Institutes these days….anyways this guy was overpaid…”

“I feel the same sir…” said the televisor in a low voice. His tone clarifying that he wasn’t in his complete mind to voice a reply, yet something shameful in him had forced him to do so.

“Good good” The old blind king tossed an almond towards him in appreciation “…now tell me…what’s the current update…?”

Televisor rolled up his eyes and touched his brain with his pupils. He then rolled it back and stared straight into the direction of the battlefield. His ears stiffened like receptors of a radar. And he exclaimed in horror…

“Unbelievable!!”

“What happened.?..” asked the king alarmingly, leaving aside the betelnut and the nut cracker in his hand, staring in the direction of the televisor’s voice.

There was a brief moment of silence and then the televisor spoke out his shocked stream of words.

“He has given up his weapons…”

“What?!” The king was taken aback.

“Yes…the archer prince has fallen into the flutist’s feet…and keeping his bow and the quiver on flutist’s feet…he said…

I don’t want to fight!”

The old blind king was frozen with the shock. In that stae he muttered…

“Son of a Bitch!!”

And suddenly the king was filled with all the action. He began walking restlessly around the room. He washed his face below the cow-faced tap. He returned to his seat all in a mess. He called out for the finance minister.

The finance minister came rushing in.

“What happened?…” he asked worriedly.

“Withdraw all the bets on that archer prince….he is going to drown me….” The king replied regretfully.

“And what shall we do of it Sir??” asked the finance minister.

“Place the bets on that son of charioteer...I have a war betting model and it states that he is the second best warrior to bet on…after Arjuna falls so…”

The televisor detached from their conversation was blankly staring at the archer prince’s surrender, in a state of shock and magnanimous disappointment. He yearned to know why the archer prince did so. But he knew that his televisibility could see only see the incidents.

Not into the feelings that soak them.


(Contd.)