A celebrated journalist’s firsthand account of the mystical forces
The story so far…
Hridaynath, an edgy journalist has unearthed a big scam in the nondescript Kure village of the north Maharashtra region in India. The scam revolves around conducting hysterectomy operations on illiterate women farmworkers under the name of the misleading government scheme. A couple from the village has hosted and extended their hospitality to Hridaynath as a goodwill gesture for his role in saving the life of the man of the house. Now read on…
Disclaimer: All the characters’ names and places are fictional and bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead.
“Look Sahib, Didn’t I tell you that strange are his ways!”
“ But Sadashiv, this is a dead piece of wood. It will not sprout with life now.” The last sentence I said to myself.
“Why not sow the seeds instead ?” I tried to reason.
“Let it be Sahib. It’s all His wish. One day you too will realize His chamatkars. And I think that day will not be far away.”
“And, what makes you think like that ?”
“He has bestowed you with his blessings as well, hasn’t he?”
“Oh, you mean those coins, lying over there? Well, those coins are now long out of circulation, almost four decades now.”
“Come on Sahib, there must be some greater purpose to it. Gundam is a *fakir. Of all the poor folks, He would never give wealth at least to you.”
He was talking sense this time. Something inside told me.
“I agree. And one more thing I have realized. Those will fetch a high price on the numismatic auction. Should I sell them for you?”
“No…no Sahib. They are His blessings…keep them securely.”
Shailee had picked them all up, cleaned and given them to me. I looked at my watch. I had to leave sooner to reach in time for the meeting with the secretary of the Farmer Producer Company. But before that, I wanted to show the contents of the mysterious book to Shailee, so I called her in.
“Sahib, can’t you wait till it’s dark ?” Shailee whispered.
Hridaynath had not expected such a quick and bold retort on something which was remotely connected to what he was referring to.
“Oh, come on Shailee! It’s the old book that has pictures of us all…it’s simply strange. Have you opened it before ?” Hridaynath urged impassionedly as he stepped in. Shailee, not knowing how she should react, walked toward Sadashiv.
“Shailee, please obey Sahib’s instructions. You will surely learn something new…now go…hurry up.” Sadashiv spoke calmly. “It’s okay Shailee. I bear no grudge. It’s your right to look after your physical needs.”
At this, Shailee nodded obediently, turned around, and rushed into the room as if this admission from Sadashiv was a license enough to conjugate during the day as well.
As per her nightly mannerisms, Shailee bolted the door as soon as she entered Hridaynath’s room. “ Sahib, could you be gentle, please?”
Hridaynath looked bemused. “ Look here…these pages had all the images which I just described to you. Believe me. There were pictures of all that I had experienced after coming to Kure village…even of us…embraced on that bed. I don’t know how this temple erotica appeared on this.”
Hridaynath could see Shailee’s face turning a shade of dark red as both of them exchanged intense looks. He was speechless.
“It’s okay sahib. Don’t cover up now. Now that you’ve shown me such titillating imagery, I want to experience her ecstasy. Right now.” Shailee’s voice had grown heavy.
Shailee’s muffled cries emanating from inside the room were drowned by Azhar’s loud laughter in the courtyard. He had arrived at the given time and would drive Hridaynath to the secretary’s office. Azhar was training to become a reporter and had learned about Hridaynath’s ongoing interviews with the local women. Not the one to let this opportunity pass by for anything in the world, he had offered himself at Hridaynath’s beck and call. But before their mutual and intimate arrangement with Hridaynath could be discovered, Sadashiv had to engage Azhar with some other activity to divert his attention.
To be continued…
*sahib-local term; a form of respect. *saree: women’s attire. *chamatkar: an act of magic. *fakir: ascetic
P.S: A special thanks to EIC Ravyne Hawke for giving this story a platform in her popular publication Promptly Written. A never-enough thanks to the editors at Promptly Written for their wonderful editorial support. And if you are still reading this, thanks to you, my dear reader. Thanks to @anyadoc for giving valuable input.