Sunday, April 29, 2007

An unsung Hero

J was invited for the first time by his chum (A) for a hippie party at a roadhouse. Such binges for him were common, but it was going to be a first timer for John.

It was a tavern somewhere in between two large hubs of India, located on a highway. Recently, A had opened his young wings to the euphoric ecstasy of nose candy, and more recently he had just given in to crack. Its effects had quickly strewn all over his gestures. J eschewed such highs, but still was a nice chap of A.

It was 10 in the night. After a jaunty ride of 10 km, they finally reached the roadhouse. Its very sight was very rousing. Every room had a stippled frieze, marbled floor and a glittering facade. A picked up stairs, and made a beeline for the hall. It was dark, with jerky flashes of light making the facing wall dappled with colors. People were shimmying to jive and some kind of jazz. A went in, but it couldn't appeal J, so he came out and sat out in the lawn. And thus began his series of keen observations.

10:15 pm. J had just tossed off a drink. A bloke sitting aside him got up and sat in the front. J saw him. He was donning some really unwanted garbs, had a dour look but really keen eyes. His left arm mostly remained in the pocket, particularly whenever he talked to anyone. His quirky mannerisms incited J to observe more. But bounded by the social niceties, he satiated his desire by covert glances over him.

A few minutes passed. That bloke there was by now aware of J's glances. He took out earplugs, closed his eyes and dipped himself in some good music. A few seconds later, he got up quickly and went to the gate. He took out his cell, was about to call, but the sight of J made him fishy. Two flighty guys passed by him in a casual way. Again, left hand in, and then out.

Something began perplexing J. But he remained calm. Then A came out with a bunch of his friends and began freaking out near the entrance. One of A's cronies began making a call. In the meanwhile J approached A. Whoa! A wasn't on a dope this time, J queried (parties are enjoyed to the hilt when you were on a dope, A had once told him). A skirted off with a lame answer. J looked for the queer-looking man. He wasn't there. The one making call hurled, "What the hell! No connectivity." This made most of them quite worried.

J took out his cell. Yeah, no connectivity. He left the crowd. Some questions were really perplexing him. Why did A prefer to be sober this time? Why was his group so worried regarding the call? He scuttled off away from them. He was just going straight, maybe looking for that man. He would have covered about 60-80 meters when something left him nonplussed. His cell had started blinking. The connection was there. He trotted back to where A was standing. They were apparently in panic with the same problem. J turned around. He was looking for something. Then he saw a lone man with a vacuous look, having a drink with a suitcase by his side.

He smirked. He had inferred the implications, but was too diffident to tell the hoi polloi. But all this had bolstered his inferences. Something had clicked him. He ran upstairs, and saw the hall. Yes, he had expected it- a jardinière with some dense shrub, and a guard standing beside it.

He recalled how A used to delineate his states of high after his fling with nose candy, and how he had turned a bit cagey in matters related to this in recent days. A quick flash ran through his body, he ran downstairs, went to A, and hurtled him away from the crowd.

"Now tell the truth man. You are here to hustle dope. Right?", J asked A. Before the dumbfounded A could reply, J caught him by hand, "You crass, you have been trapped." A was wrong, but after all, he was he was friend of J. "Run for your life", and both of them darted on, leaving behind A's swarm of friends. The man with a suitcase sprang up. "Stop.", he shouted. But none had the guts. In a frenzy, the two were shot down. A whole army in a livery of black emerged out of no where and the friends were caught.

A, J and others were framed for drug hustling and doping. And not a single evidence was there to exonerate J. The insatiable drive for cocaine had ruined A and the exceptional wits and mental acuity of J cost him his life.

[Cocaine, popularly known as coke, nose candy and crack is highly addictive, and can drive the addicts to any limit. Also, whatever J noticed was a well concocted plan to bust the trade. The bloke was supposed to be a trigger. In the suitcase was a jammer, and in the flower vase was stashed, possibly, a spy-cam. The guard was there to see if anybody didn't hit upon it. The friend of A was trying to contact the dealers to tell them the point to meet. A was sober to carry out everything smoothly. But A was clean and away from all this. He had observed all this and inferred all these facts on his own. But the vibes finally colluded against him. He had stifled their plans, but in the race, had lost his own entity…of one with a great mind]