Fictional....

“Mast movie yaar”, I said, as Tarun, Mayur and I moved down the steps after watching late night show of Khosla ka Ghosla.
“Arrey yaar Bedi, you should also try writing something fictional in your blog”, Mayur said.
“Fictional??”.. I pondered.
“yaar, the blog is according to a theme – about my life..can’t write fiction in that”, I tried to give an excuse – a poor one, which I realized immediately after I said it.
The topic changed but the thought lingered on with me. ” What’s the harm in trying?”, I thought.as I put on a Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali khan cassette which I had just bought from Planet M.
As I moved on the deserted roads, I kept thinking about what would the story be like?
Should I write a love story.. naah!! It had to be something different. But this is the first time you are writing. Why not stick to the tried and tested formula, as they say.
But not a love story. Then a mystery?? or a comedy??
“Guess, I need to consult with Amrut – the Story teller”, I concluded as I diverted my attention to NFAK’s ‘Ho jave je pyaar te sauna bhul jaanda’.
“Why did I took the shortcut at this ghostly hour”, I thought as I passed through a dark stretch of road with overgrown trees making the road a tunnel. But then it struck, “why not write a story about ghosts only?”
A sharp explosive noise blasted me out of thoughts as the car took an uncomfortable bump. Then again – accompanied by a similar bursting sound. As the car limped towards the left, I realized,
“I must have run over something sharp and both the front and rear tires are punctured. Shit! Shit!!”
Hoping Tarun had taken the same road, I pulled out my mobile to call him as I got out of the car to analyze the damage done. As I started going towards the rear of the car, I saw 2 dark figures scurrying towards me. “Ghosts?? How is this…..”.
“Idiot.. it was a trap.. they are coming to rob you”. I rushed back to the open door. “Where are the keys?”.
“Where did you keep the keys. Damn it??”. I put my hand deep into the cargo Pockets as the other rolled the window up. The mind rewound back few seconds, and got back the picture of keys dangling at the place where they should be – in the keyhole. The hand responded quickly and found them. “Now don’t act filmy and refuse to start”, I begged the car. Thankfully it did. And precisely at the same moment a huge hammer came crashing on my rear window – landing in the middle and making a gaping hole with pieces of glasses still sticking to the sides. Scared to the hilt, I pressed the accelerator as I hard as I could.. With two tires punctured, it was pretty hard for the car. “chal dhano.. aaj teri basanti ki ijjat ka sawaal hai”. From where did that come? Strange mind!!
The old maruti limbered on. The black figures were running besides me. With their big hammer looking ready to thud again. One side of the car was literally on the rims as it sparked its way along. The robbers were not in a mood to give up. They were following with full vigor on foot. How far could the car go without wheels on the long stretch of the road? Then I heard a loud burst again. It must have been another blow on the rear. I quickly checked the mirror. There was no hole but what I saw scared me more. Another car had gone over the trap.
“It must be Tarun!!! Oh Shit!”. The robbers stopped and turned their attention to the new prey.
I got hold of the mobile which I had thrown on the seat and quickly dialed Tarun’s number.
It was difficult to decide – whether to move on or stop for him. I decided to keep moving and warn him to not stop.
“Tarun!!”, I said as I got connected. “Don’t get out of the car and keep moving”
“Why what Happened?” he asked.
“it is a trap… puncture.. just get in the car and drive… fast”..
In a daze, Tarun got in the car. I had not stopped, not wanting to lose the momentum car had picked up. I kept on shouting on the phone. It was then I heard a loud thud on the phone. I couldn’t make out in the mirror, if the car had stopped or not. Then I saw a figure moved in front of the headlights.
“What should I do now? Where is the nearest police station?? C’mon c’mon… sector 7.. 8.. no..”.
I heard some loud voices over the phone. I had to go back I decided. ‘Dekhi jayegi”. It was heart over the mind decision. It was time to test if picking up heavy pounds everyday in the gym was of some use or not. But deep inside, I knew I was no match for those bulky dark bodies with a hammer and don’t know what else with them. I got out, took out the lever which is used to push up the car jack and started running towards Tarun.
Simultaneously, I called out 100 on the mobile. I had never dialed 100 before and was also not sure whether something has to be added while dialing from a mobile.
“Chandigarh police. How we can help you?”, the voice crackled.
“Hello… there are some robbers on the road in 26.”, I huffed away.
“Which road sir?”, the voice was alert now, may be simultaneously trying to connect to some Patrol vehicle.
“This road.. near Khalsa College”.
“What is your name?”
“Send some one quickly .. damn it...”
“Sir. I need to know your name?”
“Sidharth… they have caught my friend.. please do something”. I turned off the phone.
As I came close, I shouted “ Tarun…”. No reply. “Tarun… Are you ok.”
I slowly came closer, getting my breath back.
Suddenly a shadow appeared from the side and pushed me to the ground. The weapon I had, fell away.
In a deep Haryanavi he said, “oh.. you are planning to hit with me with that”… he said pointing to the metal lever.
“acting smart with me..saale”, the thug said as he took out a knife which distinctly shone in the dark..
Strangely there was no fear inside me
I replied back, “Where’s my friend??”
“Very concerned about your friend… you don’t worry about yourself?? Hahahahaha”
“We have tied your friend to the tree..Now its you turn”. He took hold of my arm and in a flash twisted it and put the knife on my throat . Then he began searching my pockets.
“The phone! No way I am going to let him take my 18K phone”. Strange motivation but motivation at least. I gathered all my courage and power and hit his groin with the elbow. A shrill shriek disturbed the silence of the night.
He doubled up in pain. Meanwhile the second thug – the one with the hammer came running towards me. I was in no mood to get shattered. I quickly picked up the lever and ran. Tarun was somewhere tied to the tree. I Hoped he was not injured. I went around the car and called out for him. I didn’t have much time as the bulky second figure was coming close.
“Ya. I am here”, Tarun called out. Then I saw him sitting besides the tree.
“They must have hit him”. “Where is the police?? Do they always have to come after the show is over??”
The hammer guy was on me now. We stood face to face. My jack lever looked comically miniature in front of his thick hammer. But at least I had a weapon. It was then that we heard the sirens in the far. For a moment everyone was distracted and I took the opportunity to land a swinging, merciless blow to the hammer guy’s face. He fell screaming to the ground. The PCR was there now. And in true filmy style, the policemen got down and caught the robbers. They always know who the villain is. Never have they come and by mistake caught the hero. Well it was the same case here. The robbers had hit Tarun on the head but fortunately the Sardar’s Turban had saved him, leaving a minor cut on his forehead. But he was shocked as was I. It was still unbelievable that all this had happened.
But I had a story – a real one, for Mayur.


P.S:
1. Only the first 8 lines of this piece are NON Fictional... Everything else - my imagination.
2. The conversation on '100' is imaginary and is no way related to what a real conversation would be like.