Short***

It was a short distance to the nearest available table. A shortish man approached. He stopped us short. A short pause. Shortly the short man spoke. “No shorts allowed sar.” This caught us short. “You see sar, we have a dress code, and shorts are not allowed but if you wish we can give you a dhoti for you to wear…”

I cut him short. Short–shrift treatment. A general feeling of being short-changed. A short interlude. Shortly, we left.

Thank you ***

The tree branch lay on the road, making half the road impassable. As I walked around the branch, I noticed that the morning traffic was a little inconvenienced, trying to manoeuvre through the bottleneck created by the fallen branch. As I came around the corner, on my second round of my morning walk, I saw two old ladies standing near the fallen branch. As I came closer, it became apparent that they were trying to move the branch to the side, with little success.

I felt a wave of shame.

“Aunty, let me do it.”

I dragged the branch to the side. The ladies stood watching.

“Thank you so much.” The ladies smiled at me.

“Thank you aunty.”

Thank you indeed. For that lesson.

Inception **

Made the mistake of reading a couple of glowing reviews for this movie, thus cranking up the expectations. A bit overated. In fact very overated. Halfway through, I wanted to stand up and declare that the emperor is wearing no clothes.

The people in the movie use gadgets that allow them to invade the dreams of others and extract secrets from the subject's subconscious. Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio), is in this business, which he does not so much as a hobby but more for espionage. Then one guy, Saito, comes along, and instead of asking for an extraction, he demands an inception - the implantation of an idea deep in the subconscious.

The laughable plot is to use this method to get Robert Fischer Jr., who has just inherited the corporate empire built by his father to deliberately break it up. This is to help Saito’s business empire to dominate.

There are architects in the cast who design the "sets" for the dreams, and one guy who provides drugs to keep sleepers sedated or bring them back to wakefulness. They all travel into a dream-within-a-dream-within-a dream until no one knows what’s going on. I am sure the story won’t hold up to close scrutiny.

But the movie was action packed, so there was no danger of the viewers dozing off into their own dream world.

Having said that, I can think of several useful applications for that gadget. Starting with its use to implant some good ideas in the heads of some of our leaders.

The Killer ****

Visalachi had told Kesavan about the old lady she was taking care of. She had been sick for a while, and now, the doctors said she was dying of Cancer. Kesavan looked perplexed. He did not understand what she meant but sensed the seriousness of the matter.

“Mama, what is cancer?” Kesavan put this question to Sabapathy mama, his neighbour the next morning, as they sat together on the verandah.
“It’s a terrible disease. No cure. People just wait to die when they get Cancer. It’s a killer.” Sabapathy settled back into his dreamy state in the cloth hammock he was reclining in. Kesavan sat staring blankly at the wall. As he shifted, the chair creaked under the weight of his immense frame. Kesavan knitted his brow as he tried to concentrate. The thoughts overwhelmed him. He sensed a throbbing headache coming on. Kesavan shook his head, as if to rid himself of all the thoughts coursing through his head. His mind cleared. But the depression persisted.

Then, all of a sudden, things became clear. He got up abruptly, startling Sabapathy. In quick strides, Kesavan made his way purposefully to Temple Street. Soon he stood panting and sweating profusely, at the front gate of Narayana Reddy’s house.
“Amma… amma,” Kesavan called out to his mother.
“What are you doing here? Go back home. Amma is busy. I will come back in the evening and make thosai for you.” Visalachi stood there, wiping her brow.
“Amma, that lady has Cancer. I don’t want you to be near her. Come home. You don’t have to work anymore. I will work. I will earn money and support you. Come home amma. I don’t want you to die.” Kesavan was almost in tears.

Visalachi hugged him. “Ayyo, asadu asadu. I have asked everyone. Cancer cannot be passed from one person to another. Nothing will happen to me. You go home now.” She patted his head. Kesavan stood there for a while. His head throbbed. Then he walked home slowly. As he passed Sabapathy’s house, Kesavan paused. Sabapathy was dozing in the hammock, his head lolling from side to side.

***

Visalachi had been sick for more than a week now. Kesavan sat and watched her all day. He was helpless. He was confused and angry because his mother was suffering.
“Its nothing. Just a cough. I have taken the saffron water. I will be alright in the morning. You go sleep.” But Kesavan could not sleep. He lay tossing and turning.

Kesavan awoke with a start. His mother was coughing and moaning. Kesavan hurriedly scrambled up and switched on the light. He was horrified at the sight. There was blood everywhere. His mother was lying on the floor. As he watched she spat out more blood. Kesavan ran out screaming. “Mama ! Sabapathy mama! Amma is very ill. Come now. Mama ! “

***
Kesavan’s head throbbed. The pain was unbearable. Events had moved at lightning pace. The hospital. The doctor telling him that his amma had Cancer. The worsening cough. The terrible suffering his mother went through. And finally, amma was dead. Gone for good. If only she had listened to him….

Kesavan’s head stopped throbbing. Suddenly everything was clear. Kesavan remembered the Ayya shrine at the corner of Mudaliar Street. He walked there now. At the shrine, he stopped. For a moment he gazed at the small statue, standing fiercely, dagger raised as if to strike. Slowly he grabbed the dagger.

The gate and front door was open. Entering, he moved swiftly to the side room. Pausing for a moment in front of the bed, he brought the dagger down in a massive blow. Blood splattered everywhere. The old lady died without a whimper. She was out of her misery. Kesavan watched her lifeless body. He felt a strange calm. The dagger dropped from his hand.

The Black Mark ****

Prasad sat with head bowed. “I just couldn’t help myself, dad.” He stammered. “It just snowballed before I realized what was happening….”

“Shut up.” His father cut him off. “You are totally useless. Do you know the value of money ? Do you know how much I slog to earn my money? All these things I do for you and this is what you do in return.” He was livid.

“I’m sorry dad. I will never…”

“If you ever do it again I will disown you. You lost $20,000 betting on football ! I cannot believe you could be so stupid. And to top it, now you tell me you borrowed from the loan shark. His interest is $5,000. Unbelievable ! Now he is threatening to beat you up. I should just let him.”

Prasad’s father stomped away to his study. He was fuming inside. He had the money. But it was hard earned money. Not to be given to slimy bookies and loan sharks. Suddenly he had an idea. He would mark all the notes. He would trap the bookies and the Ah Long. The thought somewhat mollified him. He sat down and painstakingly placed tiny black dots on the corner of every note. Then he carefully counted the notes again, and put them into the envelope.

*******

Kamesh sat with Vatsala, facing Dr Purandhar. The doctor was pointing out the fuzzy images on his large monitor. “Can you see this ? The cyst is pushing against these nerve nodes. The reddish colour indicates it is well supplied with blood. It is still growing.”

Vatsala sat impassive, eyes downcast. She had been through a lot lately. She just wanted to get it over with. Kamesh wondered why the doctor was telling them all these. They already knew that the growth had to be operated.

“It is very complicated because of the proximity of the nerves. A more sophisticated procedure is called for.” Kamesh’s heart sank. He had balked at the initial cost of $20,000 which the doctor had mentioned. Now it looked like he was going to ask for more. “Tell us what needs to be doctor. I want my wife to be healthy again. Whatever it takes.” He put his arm around Vatsala, and squeezed her shoulders.

“We would need spinal laparoscope assisted microsurgery. That would minimize the risks of collateral damage to the occipital and auditory nerves. I estimate $25,000.” Dr Purandhar glanced at them shiftily. He felt a sharp pang of guilt. He lowered his eyes uncomfortably.

*******



Daniel sat leaning back on his swivel chair. He had been taken aback at the sudden request. But Kamesh was a dear old friend. And Daniel was deeply indebted to him. In fact he owed his life to Kamesh. He had promised to help Kamesh.

“Kali. Oru mukkiamana vela irukku. Meet me at Devi’s Corner, 7 am tomorrow.” Daniel put down the phone.

*******

Leo Zachcharias Chung was a thug. He ran betting syndicates, and the complementary business of loan sharking. But now, Zachcharias sat trembling. It was a comical sight. The burly tough Lion of the underworld was behaving like a frightened kitten. The tattoo of the dragon on his arm quivered like a frightened mouse. They had struck him at his weakest point. They had kidnapped his only son Michael.

*******

Dr Purandhar was surprised. Kamesh had paid by cash. He glanced at the brown envelope, mildly surprised. He slid the money out, and flipped through the stack. Suddenly he stopped and dropped the notes on the table. Stunned, he stared at the notes. He frantically shuffled them clumsily, spreading them all over the table. Every one of them had a black dot at the corner.

Braking it ***

He just could not bare it. It had been like that since he had been borne. And it always put him in a fowl mood. Control control and control. He had no freedom. And on top of it, the whether had been bad since yesterday. He was board. He wasn’t aloud to go out in the rain. As he watched the rain patter down on the window pain, he saw a movement in the street. It was the none. She looked quite pail. She turned, sensing him watching her. He waived. She smiled and waived back. Then she began the slow accent up the steep steppes.

The none reached the alter, and bowed to the attendance. He watched silently as she knelt at the bass of the statue, silently preying for a minute. The she blue out the candles. Just then, the bolder came crashing down from the sealing. It crushed the none, and fell through the flour, into the seller.

The cereal killer stood above, watching the seen below.

The Conversation ***

I was nearly bursting. The first cubicle was taken, so I went into the second one. Slammed the bolt and sat down when I hear a voice from the next cubicle...........

“Hi there, how is it going?”

A bit taken aback, I stayed quiet for a while. I am not the type to strike up conversations with strangers. Especially strangers I cannot see. Strangers talking through toilet cubicle partitions. In any case, I didn't know what to say.

Then, the voice again, “Are you there ? Can you hear me?”

So finally I say: “Yes. I’m ok ............”

Then the voice says: “So, what are you doing?”

I am starting to find this a bit weird. What did he think I was doing? But I say: “Well, I'm going back to KL ...............”

Then I hear the person, all flustered, say: “Look, I'll call you back … every time I ask you a question this idiot in the next cubicle keeps answering me.”

(adapted from unknown author)