Thursday, June 29, 2006

Bed time story

The dark hallways and eerie silence lend an air of gloom for he was already in darkness...darkness of mind... and spirits...... He held the .38 caliber pistol close to his chest as if it was the dearest thing on earth and waited for someone impatiently. The irony of a killer is that he needn’t be a really brave man to bump off somebody and he wasn’t any bold either...Despite the humid air and blistering summer he was cold like a dead fish trying hard to stop shivering and in agony bit his own lips while clenching his teeth........But that wouldn’t stop him from doing what he thinks is his “karma”..

Ruskin crossed the street across St Paul’s and was on his way to take his daily shot of tequila ...His wry smile gave away nothing of his true self and with greedy vigor he walked briskly toward the bar. But out of nowhere an enormous shove pushed him towards the wall and he was face to face with man he feared the most. They say a man at trigger call will beg for his life and won’t mind stooping any low for it...But Ruskin knew he was done for and reconciled to his fate for he knew there were no excuses this time...

Thankfully the Israeli made pistol had a silencer and without making much ado that tiny piece of metal settled in where it was destined for.... in the soft cushions of Ruskin’s brain.....


Kafka was just like the Idiot in Dostoevsky’s famous novel...A man of contentment and humility and someone who would be the last person to kill anyone...Kafka lived in the non descript fishing town called Modena and made a decent living, killing fishes that flourished in the green seas...And he enjoyed life in his own special little way making enough dough to feed his old mother and svelte sister.. Those were days when life was all about catching as many fish as possible and selling them in the local market. The smell of salty air and the sea breeze were his comfort zones. And he was never intrigued by the smugglers that flocked the town or the big “SHELL” tanker ships that went by their idyllic town towards the Suez. The Kafka family’s world began and ended with the harbour in Modena...

His fishing consort and alter ego Ruskin with whom he ventured the green seas of the Mediterranean was not exactly everyone’s blue eyed boy...But Kafka had taken a liking for him as Ruskin knew how to bargain for better prices in the local market and was someone tailor made for the hard rigour of fishing in the deep seas...Ruskin’s brawls were infamous and that made him unpopular at Kafka’s place. Still they couldn’t live without each other. Kafka’s enterprise complemented Ruskin’s business acumen...So they lived pretty ordinary life sharing many a joke over a beer...Kafka was a man gratified...Little did he know his friend always dreamed big...

Ruskin’s acquaintances in smuggling business convinced Ruskin to jump over from his boring fisherman life to a more exciting world of drug peddling and counterfeits...Kafka couldn’t stop his friend from moving out and they gradually began seeing less of each other. But his friend was growing bigger by the minute ...Few weeks later Ruskin drove a gleaming fiat in the street and folks were amused at the quick turn of fortunes...He began talking big and instead of sardines he was more familiar with the Versace and Bugatti’s...Kafka’s mother began admiring Ruskin’s new found wealth and had no qualms sending her daughter for those rides in the fiat...

During those turbulent years people in his tiny town were getting richer while Kafka remained dormant as ever making just enough to feed the three of em...People found less time to enquire by and there were hardly few “Bongiorno”(hello for Italians) from friends......He was a failure in their eyes.......But he hardly ever felt so!!!

Then one summer Ruskin invited Kafka’s sister for a ride in his new boat...And they set sail without Kafka knowing it...They never returned home that day...Heartbroken, Kafka waited for that phone call telling that they had eloped...That Tuesday the local boys crowded the beach to see something that was half rotten and lacerated by shark bites...And the world came crashing down for Kafka at the tragedy that had beholden him. His sister’s funeral was held the same day at the nearby church...The newspaper said that the police found only one body and the other might have been lost to beasts in the sea...

Little did Ruskin new that Kafka had know him very well and the vagaries of life had taught Kafka how wicked the world can be...After selling his old rickety boat his manages enough dough for the weapon. With vengeance he set forth in pursuit.....Naples was a safe haven for Ruskin but little did he know he was followed for the past few days...


The dark hallways and eerie silence lend an air of gloom for he was already in darkness...darkness of mind... and spirits..........................................................................................................................................................

3 comments:

~*. D E E P A .* ~ said...

whoa !

very nice !

what happens to Kafka's mom ?

Dew Drops said...

WoWWWWW man,

its going th kafka style and he is one of favorites.

mathew said...

@Deepa

She made a guest appearence..not relevant in the story..hehehe..
On a serious note dint want to make the story complicated by getting her side of the story..

@Dew Drops
oh.Kafka is a cool name!!!!