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MARVEL and SPIDER-MAN: TM & © 2007 Marvel Characters, Inc. Motion Picture © 2007 Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc. All Rights Reserved. © 2007 Sony Pictures Digital Inc. All rights reserved.
The kiss!!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007 |
Disclaimer : The protagonist is a small town lad, and his views, acts and analysis are in no way being endorsed by the author. :)

It was a Friday evening in the capital and I was about to embark on a journey that would never be forgotten, not just for the cause of it, but hell of a lot more so, for the effect it had on me.

Rajdhani Express, the epitome of extravagance for a just about middle class commuter like me, was there waiting on the rails for those elite, oh-I-missed-the-flight kind of passengers to claim their luxury. Quite a subjective term is this, the word 'luxury'. One man’s bare necessity can be a luxury, an indulgence for a lesser mortal. And a lesser mortal I was, they could have gone the length to have pasted my picture in the dictionaries against this word for the sake of citing an example. If only they paid a royalty.

But today this poor old country cousin was clutching on to a ticket that read “A3 22 Rajdhani express New Delhi-Bangalore” under different columns. The train was scheduled to depart at 6:45 sharp in the evening from platform no. 10 of the New Delhi Junction. With still about 20 minutes left, the sun was sinking down the stretched ochre clouds that lined the horizon. The silhouetted buildings were being flushed out of it’s sleepy occupants- the 9 to 5 crowd- the weekend was here.
I am not a competent person at offering such poetic overtures. And so I spare the prose of the torture I may inflict.

It was my first ever train journey where the windows would be sealed, fans concealed, and the tobacco I chewed on would paint the basins at the ends of the coach, The curtains would graciously welcome my filthy hands to relieve them of the ugly evidence that bore testimony to a hoggish dinner; a nose digging session or may be an unwarranted itch lower down my anatomy.

No smelly beggars who collect money for their Indian idol auditions (you should hear them sing!!), No Clappy-happy eunuchs who grab ‘more than’ just your currency notes, No Paan-beedi-cigarette-Taash patti waalahs, were going to bug me here.

The one thing that stayed the same was the anxiety for the reservation chart, hoping that a chirpy, talkative and essentially buxom lady, would accompany me this time in my compartment. And she would hopefully prefer the curtains drawn for her new found love to hatch. Ha!

Our hopes as they say go with us to our graves or to the toilet (for the teens).

After filtering the reservation chart for some F-16’s to F-26’s within a 5 inch radius of my printed name there. Disheartened, I zeroed on a name:

“Poornima devi F-47 21”

She was in the same compartment as I was supposed to be. And she had to be a ‘Madonna’ at her age to coax me to board the train without a novel or magazine to kill time. But she was no Madonna and I was no patron of the written word and so anyway the magazines stayed with the hawker as I boarded the train.

I had a briefcase with me with a humble price tag and a brand-name well known in my native village. The rational question to ask at this point of time would be:

What was I doing in Rajdhani Express??

Actually it was a benevolent friend of mine who had a heart for charity (and a brain for business) and so he sponsored the hefty ticket fare. He was in the same trade as I was but precisely a year back, he came up with an ingenious idea, a goddamn spooky plan that changed his life (and shortly was about to change mine as well). Since then he has made enough dough to feed his new found appetite for charity.

This was a business trip. And my friend who had made several such trips in the past year assured me that this journey would end my days of misery. His reversal of fortunes coaxed me to believe his words.

Before this I used to travel in the General coach squeezed among drunken laborers and their bitchy wives, wailing infants and whining mother-in-laws, pervert blokes and veiled brides, all this immersed in a thick cocktail stench of sweat, shit and half-hearted farts.

I used to spend the nights counting the armpit hair of smelly constables and peeking inside loose blouses of snoring women. Make no mistake I can be gross at times


-------------------------------------

I made my way through the narrow passage effortlessly dangling my suitcase which just had about two polyester shirts and an ill fitting trouser. The coach was mostly empty. And with just about 5 minutes to go for the final horn I didn’t expect a baaraat to arrive and flood the coach.
I reached my compartment; there she was - Poornima devi pushing her bags under the seat. She was looking every inch the poornima devi she was. A pious lady clad in a white cotton saari and a hand-knitted scarf wrapped around her face. Wrinkles were beginning to show on her face, but she seemed to be a lady that didn’t seem to bother much about aging. Her attire (and of course the brand-names of her suitcases as well) suggested she was at a similar social status as I was.

“Beta aapki berth kaun si hai!!” ( What’s you berth number my son??) She initiated

“Jee meri 22 hai” (mine is 22)

“Asal me mera samaan thoda jyaada hai..isiliye thoda adjust kar lena beta” ( actually I have some excess luggage…so if you could adjust a bit..”)

“Arey zaroor..waise bhi mere paas just ek chhota suitcase hai..” ( I reassured her)

“Waise aap akeli itna saara luggage leke…??” ( By the way you are carrying so much of it all alone..??)

“Asal me Mera beta bangalore me computer engineer hai….bahut kamaata hai..lekin mai to hariyaane me rehti hoon..gaaon kairana district zind…jab se iske pitaaji shaant huye hai..mera to gaaon me mann hi nahee laage hai…isiliye mere bete ne mujhe apne paas bulaa liya hai…ab uske paas hi rahungi..saara saamaaan le jaa rahee hu apna..wo to usne tikkat bhej diya warna maine to kabhi nahee jaaana tha iss Acee-waycee me…”

(She went on saying that how after her husband’s death she was all alone in her village in Haryana while her son worked as a software engineer in Bangalore and so he wanted his mother to stay with him. As she was shifting permanently the amount of luggage was justified)

She had an unending stock of gossip which she dished out with her sharp tongue breathlessly to my utmost chagrin. She told me how her neighbor’s elder daughter eloped with the PCOwaalah and how her tenants there conspired with the neighbors to poison her healthy 2-litre-a-day goat.

Holy cow!!

I excused myself for a breather near the basin. She was as kind as her goat.

I spat the tobacco, I was chewing on for an hour or so, on the shining basin walls and didn’t bother to flush it down as it would require a battery of fire fighters with their hoses to wash and skin the spittle off the walls.

I waited there near the iron gates for the old lady to doze off in the compartment. It was a pitch black night and Agra was still about two hours away. Then suddenly the train began to decelerate and ultimately screeched to a halt at some godforsaken station. It was Quite unlike Rajdhani, there must be some problem, I felt. Then what I saw was one of the most pleasant sights I ever had in my life.

There she was struggling with a heavy suitcase, trying to push it past the entrance. She was every inch the jaw dropping beauty you would lie to your friends you met. The blue-eyed lass fanned lashes as she looked up. Her lips like juicy rose petals to sip from. A lock of velvety night-black hair spilled over her pink face as she finally managed to climb up the coach. She tucked the wisps of hair behind her ear, and then her eyes met mine. Her eyes had the effect of hashish, those innocent intoxicating eyes.
I was hopelessly awestruck. She looked a bit nervous after finding a man at the door all alone staring at her. After an exchange of blank faces she looked away and made her way to the passage dragging her suitcase behind. I was still gaping.

She was a tall woman, wearing a black saari with her midriff showing and a matching blouse sans any sleeves. She possessed curves so luscious that could drive nobler men to sin, her slim hips proved to be full of life as she walked down the alley. Then she stopped far down and before she entered her compart she turned around and caught me staring, she looked wary.
But neither of us felt uneasy, as for her she was used to this, and for me, she was too precious to even let go of my sight, for even a moment.

I sighed and with a heavy heart moved to the pantry to get myself a bottle of mineral-water. I was so dumbstruck that I even forgot to offer a helping hand to help her lift the suitcase.

But one thing that struck me which was rather unusual about the damsel: She was bare-footed. I noticed it when she climbed up the stairs to the coach. I was back to my coach. I was mulling over this weird fact as I slid the curtain of my compartment to enter with the water bottle in my one hand.

I nearly dropped my bottle for what I saw. The Greek goddess was in my compartment. She was horrified seeing me barge in such a way, but then I assured her, that I was one of the occupants of that compartment. And to my utter relief the old woman was hibernating peacefully on the upper berth wrapped in a railway blanket.

“What’s your berth number??” I initiated this time.

She was at ease now.. “Umm!! Lemme check…I know its in the 20’s..But dunno exactly!!” she chirped like a school girl as she fished for the ticket in her hand bag.

The lady clumsily pulled out the ticket and handed it to me. It was a yellowed piece of paper and with its tattered edges, the look of the ticket was at a conflict with her classy attire. It must have had a trip to the washing machine, I smirked.

I read aloud.

“A-3 23 lower berth, there you go madam, you are here to stay!!” I couldn’t hide my pleasure.

“But the ticket says you were to board from New Delhi. What happened??”

“Actually I was caught up in the rush hour traffic and couldn’t reach the station before the scheduled departure. By the time my husband and I did reach the platform, we had missed it….then my hubby decided to drive me down to Agra so that I could board the train from there…When we were on the way my husband inquired about the position of the train. He was told that there was some problem on the rails and so the train will be taking a halt at this station.. And eventually I reached in time to board the train here….phewhh!!”

The long explanation left just two things in my mind: One of them being the bitter truth that the nymph sitting right next to me was a married woman.

And the second impression was a wise query, as to why did her husband who took all the pains to drive her to this deserted station, didn’t wait to see his beloved wife off and help her with the luggage to board the train..??

The school and college grade sheets have always reflected unanimously that bimbos never liked too many questions being asked. So I rested my queries with myself.

“Looks like your hubby had ‘plans’ for the night..” I teased her.

“How do you know??” she shot back.

“As he seemed to be so adamant to anyhow dispatch you out of Station ha ha!!” I cracked up.

“Excuse me!! My father is critically ill in Bangalore and I didn’t want to miss this train at any cost….and please…I am no ‘object’ to be ‘dispatched’..” she fumed and looked away . I swallowed a lump.

I don’t know how I could have said the words I said. I desperately thought of something to defend myself. And as they say - attack is the best defense. So I said

“Pardon me madam!! But I thought I could afford to crack such jokes at a lady with no sandals on…Unarmed u see!!” I grinned ear to ear rather shamelessly.

She was caught off-guard and let out a sheepish giggle “Uhh ohh actually the stilettos I wore snapped while I was dragging my suitcase over the platform....I can be pretty clumsy at times” a she smiled and the little diamond in her nose ring sparkled..

I smiled in response; one thing was sure- she wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be. A woman of such tall stature never wears stilettos (heels) especially in train journeys.

The train was about to hit the Agra platform in another 1 ½ hours so it was high time for me to get on with my business. Luckily she had gone to the restroom to freshen up. I made sure the girl was away for long and the old lady above was still in la-la land. I searched for the girl’s water bottle. It was there in one corner of the berth wrapped with a napkin. I picked it up quickly and rolled it under the lower berth. I flicked open my briefcase and took out another water bottle and kept it by my side. After placing the briefcase where it was, I waited with bated breath for her to return. After another 5 minutes she was back all smiles. I knew after a piss humans get thirsty after a while. And so she began searching for her water bottle as some more time rolled. I was waiting for this patiently.

“What are you searching for!!” I asked

With her eyes filtering the compartment for her bottle she said “ my water bottle”

“Ohh you can have mine…!!” I offered her the bottle which I kept alongside.

Initially she hesitated but then gave in to her thirst and my imploring. I watched her gulp down about ¼th of the bottle. I knew it was enough. I waited as she sat there with the bottle in her hand. And in a few moments she was beginning to drift off.

Before this I used this technique to drug laborers (returning to their native villages with their savings) in general coaches. It was tough and at times pretty dangerous to do it. And what do you expect those friggin’ workers to carry with them.. gold biscuits!! Huh!!. The job was paying too little for the amount of risk involved in it.

It was my friend’s big idea, of investing a bit more in the ticket fare to tap the unaccounted wealth these oh-so-elite people carry with them in their journey aboard such trains. Then there were the curtains to give you privacy while you patiently unburden the ladies of the heavy jewellery and the gentlemen of their cash. Even the trust-factor runs high in such trains. And two such trips per annum were enough for you to party throughout the year.

She was almost unconscious as I unscrewed her nose and ear rings with delicate hands. She looked stunning up close. When I bent over to undo his necklace I could smell her. And she was absolutely intoxicating. Her juicy lips invited mine. I tried to restrain myself but my senses had resigned to her silent invitation, I kissed her. It felt like brushing my lips against ice cubes, they were cold and strange, her lips. She sat there motionless.

I shifted to my heels and quickly stuffed everything in to my briefcase including her hand-bag. I checked the old lady once again and assured myself that she was really sleeping. I made a quick exit and paced up the alley to reach the coach exit. The city lights were visible at a distance. I waited anxiously. I was about to escape. And before the train came to a complete standstill I had hired an auto to take me to my friend’s place.

When I reached his flat, he was fast asleep. I banged the door a bit scared. He opened the door rubbing his eyes.

“Kaam ho gaya?” (Mission accomplished??) He asked casually.

It was routine for him. He was doing it for the past 3-4 years but for me it was the first time. I nodded and barged in. He directed me to a cot to sleep on and he collapsed on his bed. I had a much needed bath and then slept with a jittery feeling inside.

The next morning I woke up I saw my friend glued to the TV set. Some news channel was on. I asked him jovially

“To news aa gayee, ek jawaan aurat ko train me loot liya gaya hehe!!” ( So the news is out huh?? A young lady drugged and looted of her belongings haha!!)…

“This is something strange!!” he was sounding ominous.

“What strange??..” I sat upright.

“Have a look…”

The news reader was speaking..

“…once again I repeat. In the Bangalore bound Rajdhani express a middle aged woman named “Poornima devi” was found dead on her berth when the train reached Bhopal this morning. The dead body was discovered by a train attendant when he went to collect the sheets and the pillows from the compartment. According to the attendant she was sitting with her eyes wide open with an expression of mortal fear on her face...the doctors are yet to discover the actual cause of the death….”

“Jesus Christ!! I was in the same compartment……Ohh my godd!!” I was panting.

My friend screamed his lungs out and grabbed my collars-

“Youuu son of a bitch!! You drugged her to death!! You asshole I warned you to use it fucking carefully with older people!! You….”

“ I DID NOT drug her!! I don’t know how the FUCK she died…We were THREE people in that compartment…” I almost cried

“What Bullshit!!! When you called me from the New Delhi station you said there was only an old lady in your compartment..”

“So how would I know, the reservation chart said…....”

suddenly something struck me hard . “…wait a minute…WAIT A FRIGGIN MINUTE”

*She had the ticket reserved from New Delhi but still her name didn’t show on the reservation chart…holy shit!!* I feared the worst.

I jumped to my briefcase and opened it to get her hand-bag

“What the hell are you mumbling???”

“Shut the fuck up”

I burrowed in her hand bag to pull everything out. There were some old newspaper clippings, i checked the date, the clippings were exactly 2 year old . One of them had a headline

“Suicide attempt onboard Raajdhani express”

Bhopal, In an unfortunate event , A resident of New-delhi Mrs sheetal gupta was found unconscious in her compartment when the Bangalore bound NewDelhi-Bangalore Rajdhani express reached Bhopal this morning. She was immediately rushed to the hospital, where the doctors declared it as a suicide attempt with excess dosage of sleeping pills as the cause. Doctors say she is out of danger now and her condition was stable.
According to her neighbors the lady had a fight with his husband the previous night and in a fit of rage she stormed out of the house and was going back to her parents place in Bangalore…

The clipping had the photograph of the lady as well posted with the news.

My friend saw the clipping and he snatched it from me. And he went ballistic.

“How did you get this?? Tell me!!!...How did yaa....”

I could see the fear in his eyes and so I asked “Why!! Do you know this lady???”

“Yeahh!!!..holy shit.. She didn’t attempt a suicide..I was onboard that day, she was my catch….and I gave her a overdose.. It was me..” and he started weeping.

“Oh my gawdd !! She escaped that time but you know what I DRUGGED the SAME lady last night…I don’t know how she would react to the drug the second time….” It was a deadly coincidence I thought.

“React my ass!! You moron.. That lady died the next day in the hospital exactly 2 years back .. do you get it NOW!!”

A chill ran down my spine. Her tattered ticket was 2 years old. I was motionless. Almost mechanically my hands gloved the lady's handbag and unearthed a letter.. which read..

“My wait is over young men. Your breath, your smell, your kiss will lead me to you. Run you must but I’ll follow you just as this letter has followed you. And then I’ll wreak my vengeance.

May the soul of the old lady rest in peace unlike mine.

- you know who”
posted by Garam Bheja Fry @ 3:17 AM

39 Comments:

  • At 5:13 AM , Blogger Shubhankar said...

    Fantastic..!!! Absolutely brilliant..!!!!
    This has got everything about it...sarcastic & dry humour,lustful pondy stuff, & amazing suspense & climax.>!!!!!!
    Awesome tribute to your 10,000 full plates...& am proud to be the first one to comment on this..!!!!! :-)

     
  • At 6:36 AM , Blogger Thisisme said...

    Whoa!! u surprised me! dint knw u post such stuff as well..was very gripping!well written!

     
  • At 10:08 AM , Blogger d_grail said...

    gud stuff!

     
  • At 10:29 AM , Blogger siby said...

    Good Job bey, toooo goooooooooooooooood!

     
  • At 5:01 PM , Blogger Rishabh said...

    GOSH!! Enjoyed the chill from Head to Di**!! ;)

     
  • At 7:58 PM , Blogger COALESCED said...

    Marvellous!! A magnum opus!!
    This yet agains proves your versatality as a story teller. This is high time, u turn a professional.
    Good work.

    But the Godhrawala still remains my personal favourite.

     
  • At 5:56 AM , Blogger Anshul Agrawal said...

    Awesome Story man... simply superb...

    it has all the necessary indegrients in it: love romance, humour, thrill, suspense, horror...

    the initial description of both women are very well written...

    keep the good work going... :)

     
  • At 6:03 AM , Blogger S.Krishna said...

    Really cool... Excellent climax. knew u would do something with the climax, but this was above the Unexpekted ...

     
  • At 8:05 AM , Blogger Lady Godiva said...

    Good!!! i like it :-)

     
  • At 1:26 PM , Blogger Abhi said...

    Gurudev ! I did not know ki tere andar rajpal yadav ke saath saath ek ram gopal verma bhee chupa hain.Excellent narration ! Saugandh Kimi Kaatkar ki eyebrows kee , you have talent.

     
  • At 3:44 AM , Blogger Senti Indian! said...

    shit! what was that? It really became scary at the end...

    but brilliant piece.

     
  • At 4:29 AM , Blogger Amod said...

    Man, this was surprising. When the story started, I was thinking it will be one of your real experiences because the person was indeed 'behaving' like you :) and my this feeling got stronger and stronger. When you saw the girl with your mouth agape, I knew it had to be you. But, when I came to the drug part tab mujhe laga ki nahi nahi nahi, apna abhishek aisa nahi hai, woh kya kisi ladki ko drugs dega, woh to bechara seedha saadha hai ..lol.. and suddenly it took a different turn. Bhaiyya, bhoot woot ko kahani me mat lao, darr lagta hai. Be happily haunted now.

     
  • At 5:27 AM , Blogger Adarsh said...

    one word--- MASTERPIECE
    gajab likha hai bidu.... macha diye guru.....
    yaar... wo black lady ki fotu bhej naa... :P

     
  • At 1:09 PM , Blogger The Indian Frog said...

    are TAU !!
    dara mat bhai ..
    padh ke laga ki haan ye hui na
    RAMSAY type story ..
    likhta reh aur darata reh ..
    SPINE CHILLING ...
    JITTERYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY...

     
  • At 12:06 AM , Blogger Sayesha said...

    Wow. Chilling stuff. Amazing likha yaar.... dara diya bilkul... good stuff! I read it twice! :)

     
  • At 11:27 PM , Blogger Manish Tripathi said...

    Fucking christ.....
    how can you be so cruel to kill that lady in your story. espetially after such a wonderfull explaination about her beauty.
    Mujhe laga the narrator will fall in love with her..."Aur pyaar ho gaya"...
    nyways.. the story was tightly crisp, and able to make it read in one sitting.

     
  • At 4:47 AM , Blogger arun said...

    Man this is simply superb..till some point i thought u r really telling ur own exp...Holy s***...i started realizing only in the last few para tht u r kidding...either though it was really grt!

    Cheers
    Arun s

     
  • At 8:18 AM , Blogger neo said...

    The story rocks .. Mainly for its plot and flow of events ...

    The description of the woman worths special mention ... It was awesome

    Its now time to take it to the next level,by thinking of a bigger plot, by focussing on the consistency of behavioural traits of the players in the story and coupled with ur writer's instinct to portray the events as if in real life .. Apparition stories n will be a cake walk for u ..

    U have the pen .. lead us .. We will follow it to the ends of ur imagination ;)

     
  • At 8:18 AM , Blogger neo said...

    The story rocks .. Mainly for its plot and flow of events ...

    The description of the woman worths special mention ... It was awesome

    Its now time to take it to the next level,by thinking of a bigger plot, by focussing on the consistency of behavioural traits of the players in the story and coupled with ur writer's instinct to portray the events as if in real life .. Apparition stories n will be a cake walk for u ..

    U have the pen .. lead us .. We will follow it to the ends of ur imagination ;)

     
  • At 6:33 AM , Blogger Sam said...

    AMAZING!!
    You can definitely hold a person spell bound.......... keep them coming.... wanna read more!!

     
  • At 7:54 AM , Blogger gunj said...

    finalllyyy i read it!!!
    n boy it wasnt loong!!! i wanted more!!
    dint want it to end!
    n boy it was awesome!!
    i loved d precise detailing....just right to keep ur readers interested!!
    great work!
    lookin forward to mre!!

     
  • At 10:21 PM , Blogger Sudipta Chatterjee said...

    Dude... that was ossum. Came here after a long time and you have just improved... way to go!

     
  • At 4:15 AM , Blogger santhu said...

    good one man . i was randomly searching for "wipro sucks!!"(no points for guessing why!!) and got glued to your blog ..

    though i hate sidney sheldon kinda of plots its refreshing to see some horror in the end!!

     
  • At 11:44 AM , Blogger The Black King said...

    Nice...

     
  • At 1:30 AM , Blogger Illusion said...

    This comment has been removed by the author.

     
  • At 1:31 AM , Blogger Illusion said...

    Fantastic!!!!!

     
  • At 1:12 PM , Blogger Aparna Kar said...

    The Kiss!!!
    Hardly sounds scary to me! Until your partner had a garlic-onion-rich foot long just seconds before. Wait till I read it bacche.

     
  • At 4:14 AM , Blogger Kusum Rohra said...

    Hey, loony Mela tritiya (2008) is here, last year you complained that I link the least of your loony posts, so why don't you please mail me few posts of yours this time that you would like to see on the mela.

     
  • At 2:03 PM , Blogger elusive said...

    awesome!darna mana hai but main big time darr gayi :s

     
  • At 12:21 PM , Blogger barb michelen said...

    Hello I just entered before I have to leave to the airport, it's been very nice to meet you, if you want here is the site I told you about where I type some stuff and make good money (I work from home): here it is

     
  • At 11:18 AM , Blogger mohan said...

    to put it in 2 words.."Mind blowing".. Hats off to u..
    Keep d gud work going..!

     
  • At 1:30 AM , Blogger Homer said...

    Another masterpeice..
    gripping no doubt!
    Ram gopal verma ko contact kar le yaar.. Paise aur fame dono milenge!!

     
  • At 2:31 PM , Blogger ken said...

    good stuff dude :)

     
  • At 8:08 AM , Blogger Amul Kumar Saha said...

    Nice stuff mate.
    You've made good use of the language, the plot as such is well above average.
    It felt as if it was dragging at times, but what else does one expect out of a suspense based horror story.

    Very well written. :)

     
  • At 8:09 AM , Blogger Amul Kumar Saha said...

    just to add to my post... i'm also happy that u didnt compete against a bunch of mediocres in the story writing competition.

     
  • At 12:31 AM , Blogger Rushabhh Gandhi said...

    Abhishek...
    This was Brilliant.. Brilliant... Brilliant...


    Fantastic man....:)

    Awesome...

     
  • At 10:39 AM , Blogger Ashi said...

    Enjoyed reading immensely, was very gripping.

     
  • At 12:57 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    It was too good yaar.. followed ur blog from pagal guy... truly gripping.. jhakaas!

    Hats Off!

     
  • At 3:32 AM , Blogger Vianita Lin said...

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