The Rainbow (Part 2)

For those people who missed reading Part 1, please click here to read it.

The old, run-down building was a sharp contrast to the modern and elegant ones surrounding it. The fading light enhanced its eerie feel. A large, bright hoarding placed right next to the building caught his eye, which proclaimed the release of a latest Hollywood flick that was supposed to hit cinemas soon. Damn Hollywood, he thought to himself, as he entered the building.

The door let out a loud creak as he entered the hall. The four humans and the three cats (which had blissfully made the theater their home, happily chasing away rats) inside the hall stood up. He smiled as he glanced at each of the four men, who had dedicated their lives to The Rainbow. The men looked at him with anticipation. He had promised them that he would reveal his decision that evening.

"My dear fellows!" he spoke loud and clear. "As I had promised to you, I will now reveal my decision about the future of The Rainbow, for which we had worked day and night for so many years."

The air thickened with more anticipation as he continued speaking. "We have been together as a family for more than ten years. We have shared our joys and sorrows, and we have passed by the highs and lows together. It is an open secret that we are now in deep debt, and however optimistic I was about the improvement in situation, I have now been hit hard by reality. Frankly, I don't see the situation improving. I admit that we have no option, but to abandon all our hopes."

He had tears in his eyes. He was sure that the other men were sobbing silently too. The Rainbow was like their baby. They had nourished it when they were young, watched it grow, and sadly, also saw that it was now dying. Its lifetime was over.

He couldn't help going back in time, when The Rainbow was flourishing. Though, in the beginning, people were skeptical about it. But as word spread about it, the crowd started coming in. People came in from other cities to witness it. Money started pouring in, and all the five were rich, happy and famous. They built huge houses, bought the latest cars, and enjoyed like there was no tomorrow. Amidst all their happiness, they didn't realize that nothing lasted forever.

to be continued...

Image courtesy: http://rubbersuitstudios.com/dmdss/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/100_2831.jpg

Related posts:
1. The Rainbow (Part 1)
2. The Museum Mystery (Part 1)

The Rainbow (Part 1)

The air inside the room carried the odour of a dead rat. Not that it mattered much. That was all he could afford. His troupe had been in dire straits for the past ten years. But he was forever an optimist. He always told them that there would be a miracle. And there would be money. Though it all sounded encouraging then, now it seemed a lot hollow. But he still had hope, and he still hoped for that miracle to occur. May be not today, but tomorrow perhaps.

He locked his one room apartment and started walking. It was a very cold December evening, and he had no winter clothing except an old rugged jacket. Though for the first time he wore it, he was numb with cold, he was amazed at how he felt warmer as he got used to it each day. The road was almost empty, and wet. No one wanted to leave the comforts of a warm home to come out in the cold. As he walked, he passed by a huge house, guarded by heavy gates, which seemed almost like a castle. Memories came gushing into his mind, it always did when he passed that way. The house was once his abode.

But that was nine years back, and after that, his dwelling place became smaller and smaller, until his present one, which had only one room. He could hardly pay the rent for this one too, but the house-owner was an old friend of his, who didn't mind letting him stay there free of cost, as its rent was lower than the tip he gave his chaffeur daily in the evening. But as a man who prided his self-esteem more than anything else, he somehow managed to pay his friend the rent on time every month. He always told the others that if given an option between a hundred room bungalow and the one-room apartment, he would always choose the latter as that was all he needed. But no one ever gave him that option, so no one actually got to verify his statement.

As with any living organism, food was his major worry. Last month, he had sold the last piece of gold he had for a handful of dollars, which he sensibly deposited into his bank account. It paid for his bread and butter till the day before, and now again, he was penniless. Not that it was the first time in his life that he was in such a situation. He always believed that somehow, he would one day become as rich as he was once. But how that somehow would happen, was a tough question.

He slowly marched towards his destination. He was briefly distracted by a stray dog that was feeling quite cold, and thought it could share his jacket. But he shooed it away. He had once suffered from cynophobia, but that was quite long back. After all, being thrown to the streets does have its own advantages. It can relieve people of all their phobias, since they would be experiencing exactly what they fear, everyday. He now considered dogs as a mere nuisance, which he could always get rid of. He had better things to do.

to be continued...

The 26th

No, no this is not my 26th post (though actually blogger displays this as my 26th in my dashboard, since I haven't published 4 other posts yet). This is about the date, the 26th, which I surmise from what I found is the unluckiest number for India.

I had this doubt ever since the Mumbai blasts occurred on November 26, 2008. My mind immediately went back to the tsunami, which also occurred on December 26, 2004 (I witnessed it firsthand in fact). So I did a bit of research on this, and what came up is really intriguing.

I will now give a list of tragedies and mishaps that have occurred on the 26th of a month.

November 26, 2008- Mumbai blasts and terrorist attack
July 26, 2008- Ahmedabad blasts
May 26, 2007- Guwahati blasts
July 26, 2005- Mumbai floods started
December 26, 2004- Tsunami
January 26, 2001- Gujarat earthquake

Each of these tragedies has caused widespread death and destruction in India. So is 26th really the devil's number for India? Should we be extra-cautious on the 26th of each month?

The Last Wednesday

The last rays of the winter sun fell on the window beside me when my cell phone started ringing. It was Akhilesh.

"Hello papa? When are you coming home? It is almost six o clock!!!" He was almost screaming into the phone.
"Just leaving office, beta." I replied. I had forgotten that it was the last Wednesday of the month. "Sorry beta had some important work. Will be there in twenty minutes."

Akhilesh was born on September 30, 1998, which was the last Wednesday of the month. Before he was born, Sarita had a miscarriage. The baby girl was still-born. The miscarriage deeply affected both of us, and we made sure Akhilesh had everything he wished even before he could ask, right from the moment he was born. And we went out for dinner the last Wednesday of each month, to a restaurant of his choice.

I went outside and started my car. By the time I reached my home, Akhilesh was waiting at the door along with Sarita, all ready to go.

"Which restaurant this time dear?" Sarita asked him.
"Masala Craft!!" he replied with enthusiasm.

Masala Craft was his favourite restaurant. Though the prices were on the higher side, the delicacies on offer were the best. It was also my favourite restaurant, as the waiters there were always friendly, and ready to help. The traffic was thankfully low, so we reached there in thirty minutes, which normally would have taken more than forty five minutes.

Leaving the car to the valet, we entered the restaurant. The smell of hot chicken curry filled the room, and made my mouth water. We sat in our usual place, the table next to the grand french window, which afforded us an exquisite view of the city's skyline. Suraj, my favourite waiter, greeted us with his charming smile. Akhilesh started jumping as soon as he saw him.

"Suraj bhaiya!! Where is my chocolate??"
"Yes dear, here it is." Suraj took a huge bar of chocolate from his pocket and gave it to him. It had the hotel's name embossed on the wrapper. He always had a bar of chocolate ready for Akhilesh. Suraj took our orders and left.

I liked Masala Craft for another special reason. It was here that I first dated Sarita, though it couldn't be classified as a date as such. It was twelve years back. I was working as a marketing executive in a top finance company, while she was an MBA student. Our company had organized a training program for MBA students of all the top management institutions in the city in that particular hotel. Being one of the trainers in the event, I noticed that she was the prettiest girl among the lot. And the brainiest too. She asked me a lot of questions after a rather long talk that I gave, and deliberately, I told her that I would clear all her doubts over a cup of coffee in the restautant. And there it all began. We eventually got married three months later.

A sudden sound of gunshots dislodged me from my thoughts. It sounded from a place very near to where we were, and no one in the restaurant knew what to do. As silence filled the air for a couple of moments, I started doubting whether they were gunshots at all. But suddenly, one of the waiters rushed from inside the kitchen, blood in his hands and shirt, and signalled us to leave quietly. Some of the people started running towards the exit, while some really confused people chose to hide under their tables. I took Akhilesh in my arms, and grabbed Sarita's hand, and started rushing towards the exit. There was chaos all over the place. No one knew what was happening.

We heard more gunshots, and this time, it was right behind us. Someone at the back of me got hit by the bullets, and he fell down clutching his abdomen. I turned back, and saw two men, dressed in t-shirts and cargos, both of them were holding machine guns. I saw that Suraj was standing on the other side of the exit door, helping people out of the restaurant. I rushed as fast as possible to the exit when the men started shooting again. Akhilesh had almost fainted with fear.

I managed to get all of us out of the restaurant, with the help of Suraj. But the situation in the floors outside the restaurant was even worse. People were running helter-skelter and there was confusion and fear everywhere. I heard a blast some floors above, and there was a sound of glass shattering. I decided that it was best to get out of the hotel, since I feared that there were more than two gunmen inside it. I asked Suraj to come with me, but he refused to come, saying there were more people trapped inside, who had to be saved.

I thought it was safer to use the stairs than the lift, especially since there was fire in the higher floors. As soon as we reached the hotel entrance, I searched for my keys among the many keys that were kept near the valet. It wasn't an easy task because there were ten other people searching for their keys. I finally found my key, and ran to the parking area, asking Sarita and Akhilesh to stay back. Luckily I found my car parked in front. I drove the car near the exit and ran back to bring Akhilesh and Sarita.

But just as I was starting to move away from the hotel, I saw an elderly man writhing in pain near the lift. It seemed that he had broke his leg trying to run, and the place where he was lying was very close to the gunmen. I realised how selfish I had been, and asked Sarita to drive Akhilesh to the nearest hospital. She flatly refused to leave me behind and go, but I told her that I had decided to stay back and help the wounded. I assured her that I would be safe, but it failed to convince her.

I finally decided to atleast help the old man, and come back. She was reluctant, but before she could say anything, I rushed to the man, carried him over my shoulders, and ran back to the exit. I then signaled Sarita to carry Akhilesh and follow me to the car. There were more blasts and gunshots from inside the hotel. I started the car, and sped out of the hotel. At last, we were safe, or that was what I thought.

I saw two men running on the road towards the car. I tried to swerve out of the way, but it was then I saw that they too were having guns. And they shot right at the car. I felt a couple of bullets pierce into my chest. Sarita saw it, and screamed. I accelerated the car more, and sped out of the place. When I decided that it was safe enough to stop the car, I stepped on the brakes. I was dying, I knew it. Sarita helped me out of the car, and shouted for help. But there was no one to listen to her cries, as they were themselves in need for help. I kissed Sarita and Akhilesh on their foreheads, held their hands, and went off to a distant place.

Note: This story is not a true one. It is purely a work of fiction. But Masala Craft is in fact, a restaurant in the Taj Mahal hotel, Mumbai. I dedicate this story to all those innocent common people who lost their lives in the tragedy, and the hotel staff who saved many lives.