The Fury

And Again

( This is the second story in the collection The Fury)

And Again.

“How the hell did you get there Babu? It must have been that George, kutta!!'", said Babu's sister Seema. The whole family was congregated to find out what exactly happened the night before.

Babu sat in a comfy chair trying to contemplate. Howsoever hard he tried to recall, last thing he could remember was leaving with George at 2 pm the previous day. It had been a grand day, in fact, good last few weeks until they left for the unknown sojourn. After all he had been on a strict show. That is a lot of time-off for someone who needed his drink every evening like a life-giving potion. Shop sales had been fine. Also, his belly-ache, supposed to be because of ale, had subsided. All good. He left with George with a mischief in mind. They deserved some fun. Rati was visibly annoyed and fuming like an over-lit tandoor. A wife doth what a wife doth. She'd be fine in a few hours he knew.

It was getting a bit darker. Home, probably, was an hour's drive away. He wasn't exactly sure where he was. Or, if he should take a chance with that old moped, George left for him. The ignition wouldn't start. Tried again, and again, no luck. Exasperated, he sat down, kneeling, slowly lumbering into a nirvanic kip.

The day had been okay so far, reflected Sushma. Sales hadn't been affected by Babu's absence, as she anticipated when he left in a jiffy with George. It wasn't a worrying sign because it wasn't that usual pop-the-potion time. They left atnoon. Still, at 81 years of age, she could hardly control the affairs at this confectionary shop and in her household. Sad but true. Far better than her son Babu, in productivity though, she recalled people telling her.

It was getting dark and she started to worry. She never liked George. Everytime Babu had gone with him in past  something happened. Just a few weeks ago they both came back bruised and battered. George put all the blame upon Babu for starting the fight with a group of drunken lads." I know it all, son!", she had said replying to his litigatory remarks on her son. Babu had a proper black left-eye, probably as a result of a punch straight on that eye. It was a horrific sight. She spent all night weeping. She kept waking up startled until it was dawn.

Trucks, buses, cars, two-wheelers, an odd rickshaw kept passing by him. Babu, at times, felt too close to rampaging sounds of passing cars. It was thrilling. He started to anticipate sounds coming from far, like an echo from across the mountains. It would slowly move towards him engulfing his body in a deep chasm. The sound envelop would vibrate his laden body up and down and sometimes swirl it around and put it back on that hot July evening road ever so softly like a rose petal.

He wanted to start that moped's ignition. Maybe he could do with a little help. He raised his hand up from where he was lying in a semi-recovery position. He found it difficult to raise his aching hand. He just put it as high as he could and moved his palm and fingers in a bye-bye gesture. After few attempts he took a deep breath and tried to wake up. It wouldn’t happen. He knew he wasn't too drunk to pass out. He could still think. He could still worry about what Rati, his wife, would say when he'd reach home late. And his amma. It's just he wasn't too sure of things at the moment. Lying completely on the side of the baking road, he tried many times to close his eyes and relax. As soon he did that, his head would whirl like the wheels of passing-by vehicles. That still happened with open eyes, but the visual images on the road distracted enough to dilute the whirl affect.

“Aye why don't you open your bloody mouth and speak", shouted Seema, bringing him back from his useless sojourn into yesterday's events. He didn't know. The events between 2pm yesterday, and, this morning had escaped his memory like camphor vapors, only faster."Well, what’s the big issue, it just happened, thanks for helping and stopping by", said Babu remorselessly.

He failed to acknowledge what exactly they all wanted him to say. What could he do to satiate their being-elders-and-responsible attitude? He felt being scolded like a school-kid who bunked his exam day to watch a film. Everyone who heard and walked into the house had a piece of advice ready. Suggestive philosophies spluttered out like pop-corns out of a burning hot sandy pan. At least the sandy burning smell from that pan soothes. And pop-corns, well!

Just when all this was beginning to derange Babu's mind off-limits, vindication came in the form of a conspiracy theory. Not that he blatantly denied it, but, blaming George for all his mischievous acts came as a gentle shock he actually welcomed at that moment. He didn't want to overdo it though. They all, including Seema, Rati, and most of all mom Sushma, seemed to believe that George took him there and left him in that semi-conscious state to be humiliated. Seema went a step further, which really made Babu shriek in silence. She pointed at a foul play even greater than they could imagine. A drink spiking episode. He instantly wandered away to investigate why would George do that- spike his drink. Maybe one could never know these days .But he didn't want George to know of all this. For sure. After all, there were always a possibility of a sane and sometimes offending explanation to defend even the most obvious of psychopaths. Let it be. Let bygone be bygone.

The family saga ended with everyone wishing Babu to recover well soon. Unanimous orders to stay away from the booze irritated his bowels. He'd be fine he told them all. Back to the shop counter tomorrow morning. He' got a wife and a kid to look after. And an aging mother.

He could rest knowing that his mom could look after the shop. It's good for her, better than lying in the house all day alone. Especially, when the shop is only about 20 yards away from her bed. She normally rested inside and only went out when a customer knocked to be served. He always advised her not to keep coming in and going out. So much in-out walking was not good for her. She was so frail, he worried. She had a broken hip-bone bolted with a steel pin and a swiftly fading eyesight. He told her to stay put in the shop. Good for her.

Waking up late one morning, few days after the incident, he got annoyed for not finding his cup of tea by his bedside. Thundering downstairs with all the intentions of sorting it with Rati, he found himself barricaded by his mom and Rati.

" You drank again", enquired Rati with no sign of remorse for unable to place his bed-tea that morning.

“I can't remember", muttered Babu and galloped into the loo sooner than he replied.