A Man among Wolves

Chapter 15

The feeling of being exposed resurfaced again after sometime.

He walked past a Briyani Centre that was operated by a Muslim man. The sadistic smell of food from the shop threatened to rip his weak intestines to shreds unless he decided to eat. The Bhai at the counter seemed friendly and welcomed everyone with a charming smile. It was tempting, even if the food seemed very expensive from the prices stated on the board at the entrance. Selva would have rushed into the shop and ordered something, if only it wasn't crowded.

Similar situation arose as he reached a Halwa shop. They were his favourite sweet and just the sound of preparation of Halwa was enough to get him to salivate. But then, there were a lot of customers there too. A throng of people were pushing each other and shouting their orders to the shopkeeper, eager to be the served first. Many of them were holding out their hands to receive the change after having paid for their order. Although the Halwa shopkeeper seemed as cheerful and warm as the Bhai, this place seemed more chaotic than the Briyani place.

Selva avoided it just the same. He was overtaken by a temporary urge to just grab a packet from one of the customer's hands and run. He decided against it only because his ankle complained painfully at the very idea.

Why were all the shops that sold food so crowded today? The setting sun gave him the answer. Evenings were usually this way in many places. People returning home from their offices were presumably hungry and perhaps, they would rather prefer eating at shops than their wives' cooking. Anbu was like that. Perhaps all of them had unhappy marriages like Anbu did.

Why was he thinking about others marriage lives now? His mind was wandering. Yes, he was growing weak. As he crossed a muddy puddle with a jump, the pain in his legs worsened. As if in cue, an electric pain shot through his stomach. He needed to stop somewhere. He needed to rest and have something to eat. Else, his hunger would kill him before Agilan's men did. He must find a place. Someplace closed...Someplace where people cannot easily spot him...

Selva stopped dead in his tracks.

The lane widened and leaned off towards the left. Just at the place where the road bent, there was an old building. It seemed derelict and, in many places, the colour of the paint was waning off. But one could see that it still functioned. A massive banner was erected in front of it, displaying the face of actor Kamal Hassan.

A banner of a film.

It was a cinema theatre.

Selva rushed towards it, almost jogging again.

The steps were made of slippery tiles, which were still wet from the previous night's rain. He carefully stepped over them and proceeded inside. There was a ticket counter beside which glass doors stood open, with a security guard standing there gazing idly about. The glass doors had the name of the theatre stencilled upon them. But it was peeling out in places.

Selva avoided the stupid gaze of the security and walked to the ticket counter. He covered half of his face with his hand as if he had a bad bout of cough and slid his hand inside the mouse hole. He faked a cough to add to the effect.

"Ti-(Ahem!)-ticket?" He coughed.

The woman inside seemed bored. She was middle aged and sat daydreaming, looking aloof until he tapped on the counter twice.

"Ticket?"

"Balcony or first class?" She asked in a monotone voice.

"The che-(Ahem!)-cheaper one!" He coughed again.

"How many?"

"Just one!"

"Seventy rupees."

Selva slid a hundred rupee note inside. She seemed to take forever to give the change and ticket. Her movements were very slow. He wondered how she would fare if she was running for her life like he was. Would she have made it this far? She wouldn't have made it past her street yet. Maybe she would take her time locking the door and checking the lock many times and...