What if the week had just six days? Which day do you think would have been left out? CHAPTER 1 THE BAD ‘GOOD FRIDAY’ January 30, 2009, figuratively 22, 281 days later his first gasp, VIGYAN DESAI has finally decided to break his ‘Friday’ jinx. Till now only two words he hated the most – ‘Vigyan’ and ‘Friday’ and he had reasons for both. But today he is celebrating his birthday and it’s a Friday. All these years had 3,183 Fridays. Out of which 9 were his birthdays, which he never celebrated. I must say ‘unfortunately’. But something happened 5 years back that changed his life forever. 24th December 2004 Was also a Friday All night, Far East and Deep South Coastal boundary of India – The Coramandel Boundary line was witness to an assault on its open sky which appeared more like a battlefield. Cumulonimbus clouds, in silhouettes of prey, were now the predators. Their attack on the sinking reign of predator, now the prey – The Sun, was raged. They were not battling alone but had cohorts too: jubilant ally - the Sea, exotic harbinger- the wind and supple captives- the palms, tall coconut palms shortened in height by the pressing gush of squalls, were all participants in this nature’s Armageddon. In awhile, attack intensified and the prey was indignantly doused in a pool of blood. Ally faithfully took no time to pull him down. In moments the victory belonged to the predators. And the prey was entirely subdued but not captured. Then clouds started pelting water on the sea with a vengeance. DHANYA, stretching straight, was lounging on her boat - which instead of sailing on the sea was tied to a coconut palm on the shore. Like any other night she had company. Her brother ABDUL was with her. She had never witnessed such a bizarre weather before. They were on their boat quite early today. Maybe ABDUL had sensed some change in weather? Perhaps, still she felt very apprehensive, attuned to the dreadfulness of Nature’s deviation and her clothes were soaked with the sweat of fear. ABDUL was lying next to her with his not so strong twelve year old shoulder – the right one acting as a pillow to her eight year old head. Strangely, most of its strength was gained as a pillow over a significant period of time. The rain was continuously falling and the sun was lost leaving behind dusky shades and some traces of on and off lights of lightening strikes. When light was falling on the sea it was creating a very sharp impression of a shimmering line. And this coalition of water and light was blessed with eye catching, awe inspiring beauty. From the boat this all was visible through a small slit on the left side of the canopy – that for now was acting as an umbrella. It was as a sampan, a very small boat with a little shelter. Eventually one more lightening struck and this was the most audible and loathsome sound of that night. Dhanya, very unsurprisingly rolled over again but this time more sealed to Abdul. Her left hand was stuffed under her body and right over his chest. Her wavy hairs – naturally black but now brown and grimy with sand were vexed by the squall. Every hair strand was flying in its own direction and she was constantly moving her hand from his chest to her forehead to pin down her crazy hair. Again the weather changed and her scream of terror was absorbed in the thunderous roar that accompanied the lightening strike. “Look Abddu! The monster!!” she mumbled dreadfully pointing towards the sea. “Abddu”, a nickname given to Abdul by her Abdul was irresponsive; he completely ignored her voice as brothers often do, as if he didn’t hear anything. “See, the monster, there… over the sea!” she repeated herself, this time a bit louder. Abdul was wrapped up in his own thinking oblivious to the world immediately around him at the time. He was wondering if he should attend to the food provisions or postpone them after the storm passed.
Posted on: Sun, 15 Sep 2013 13:30:36 +0000
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