A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 4

After I heard the big news, we pushed through the crowd of people, entering the flight which would take us to our destination. On enquiring, I found that the ticket checking counter had already been visited by my friend, but one question was nagging me in the head.

After we had settled down, I asked, ’What is all this? Why aren’t we going to Madrid, to my uncle? And you, mister, constantly surprise me by the vivid dresses of yours!’

‘Alright, let me explain. Firstly, look at yourself. By Jove! Rain boots and gloves? Now, listen carefully, don’t interrupt. Yesterday, when I went round the alley to the other side, I spotted some fresh footmarks on the gravel. Extremely fresh, they were. A few metres away, a notepad and pencil had fallen down. I picked them up and looked at the notepad. Parts of our conversation were quoted in there. Someone had been following us and listening to our conversation. Question is why these articles were thrown on the road. Not thrown, they had fallen down. Apparently someone had heard me coming towards them, so they got tense and ran away in a hurry. I followed the footprints, but they ended where the man’s shoes had dried off, so that was of no use.

‘I thought about it in my mind and came to know that the man was facing your back. He mustn’t have seen you. But he saw me, that is confirmed. The person knows that we were to go to Madrid this morning, and he may be following us. I changed my disguise to prevent him from recognizing us. And the plan’s changed. It’s Barcelona, not Madrid. From there we will go to Madrid by a car I have already rented. Welcome in advance.’

‘You seem to have done quite a lot of good work. I’m okay with the plan. However, my friend, why the bright pink suit? Why this,’ I grabbed the hat in my hand, ‘awkward yellow hat? People will stare at us and laugh at your choices.’

‘If I cared for people’s opinions, Pat, I wouldn’t have been an actor in the first place. It’s our work. And here, an actor’s helping you.’

I regretted my previous thoughts when I had cursed the guys. ‘Actors are better than the rest,’ I sang aloud, ‘actors know best.’

Ralph laughed. ‘I hope it’s not meant to be sarcastic.’

The rest of our voyage was a quiet one. Ralph leaned back against the seat and snored with his mouth open. I had no idea what I was going to do during the rest of my journey. Maybe I should think about Spain. Who were these judges? Were they part of a criminal board that sentences innocent people to death? I shall know all in good time.

The flight made its landing, and I patted Ralph on his knee. He slowly opened his eyes, put on his hat, and shouted, ‘The game is on!’ All the passengers in the plane started and stared fixedly at us, trying to make us feel guilty.

‘What happened? Was it bad, or a good one?’

‘What, my dream? Well, I dreamed that the jailed people who were guiltless had suddenly turned to hulk and ripped the bars of the jail. Then there was some weird stuff about tribal dancing. Anyways, the game is on - for the man who has the most bizarre dreams in the whole wide world!’

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 3

The man waited for a few minutes to let the suddenness of these activities sink inside me. Then he began in his cold voice.

‘So, now to the point. I wanted to sort this business out, due to the fact that no one loved Jake White more than me. I searched for men who had been declared guilty but did not give in even at the last moment of their life, compelled to feel the clutches of death along with the rope. Even the darkest of criminals tells the truth at this moment, but what about those who were innocent?’

‘Genius! Continue, please.’

‘Next I reviewed the judges who had passed the judgement. All of them had one thing in common – their Spanish names. This roused my suspicions. Now tell me, Mr Calverton, what criminal in the world is so careless that he would commit a crime leaving a number of simple evidences to follow? The motto was clear – the articles on the scene of the crime were fake. They were put in order to prove the people guilty. As soon as I finished this thought process of mine, I understood this was a case dealing with criminal nature. So I called upon another man who has suffered, like me.’

‘So what do we do now? Do you know anyone else who can help us with this?’

‘I do not know anyone else, but I know you, Mr Calverton, more than you do yourself.’

 ‘What do you mean, Mr White? How in the world can I possibly be of any help?’

‘Well, you know, I did some research work, reading about the families of London and facts related to them.  I put my finger on Calverton and found out to my delight that some far-away uncle of yours was a judge. That means he can help us.’

‘Now that you remind me of it, Mr White –‘

‘Call me Ralph.’

‘Yes, Ralph, now that you remind me of it, I come to see the point. I never thought about it, before I knew that criminal judge business. We’ll visit him first thing in the morning. The good thing is – he lives in Spain.’

‘I read about that in the journal.’

‘That could help us. My uncle may also have knowledge about the criminal activities going on there. Meet me at the airport. I’ll book the tickets for Madrid. And by the way, call me Pat, short for Patrick.’ I smiled at him.

‘See you tomorrow, Pat. For now, I have to act in this exciting dress of mine. The frock is quite comfortable, actually. You can fold and stretch your legs the way you want to quite easily, without the fear of a ripping sound any moment.’

We bid farewell to each other, laughing as we turned away. I walked down the opposite side of the alley from which I had entered, and returned to the front of the theatre. Then I called a cab, got inside, and rode all the way home, to Whitechapel Road. One thing was definite – my life was going to change.

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 2

The coldness and seriousness of his voice surprised me. The fact that a man clad in a pink ballerina costume was showing such graveness in his conversation struck me as most ironical. I pointed to the bench which was earlier occupied by me, and we walked briskly over to the seat.

After an awkward silence, the man drew out some papers from behind his ear which had been tucked under his hairband. The situation seemed a bit humorous at first, but the papers were looking as if they belonged to the official lot (due to their small and boring font, I admit) that I remained quiet.

‘I believe you lost your father five years ago?’ The man took me by surprise as he spoke. ‘How do you know so much about me? That my name is Calverton?’

‘The reason is the same as why your father was wrongly sentenced to death. My brother shared his fate.’

I sat still for a moment, my body utterly motionless. This was someone who understood my problem, and the look of the papers in his hand suggested that he had some useful information. My mind flashed back to that moment of my life which the man was referring to…

‘All the evidences point in your direction, Mr Joseph Calverton. Your conviction is just.’

‘But you have to believe me! This is a plan, a plan to get me into jail! I’m innocent, for God’s sake!’

‘And what proof can you present before us to prove that? You are in a court. I am a judge, and my work is to be fair and just.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Your fingerprints, only yours, were found upon the knife that was used to commit the murder. The blood test proves that. The footprints found in the room matched with those of your rain boots, which is justified as a storm was raging outside. The victim was your landlord, to whom you couldn't pay the rent, being in such a tight situation as you were. So what better choice than to kill him?’

‘But, Judge, you have to understand! You have to let the guiltless out of a scandal!’

‘I hereby declare that death is the only punishment which can be given to sort out such criminals.’

As I came back to my senses, I realized that the man had been watching me. I took the courtesy of asking his name. ‘Ralph White, that’s my name.’ ‘So, what is this you hold in your hand, and why have you called upon me on such a night in such, well, err, clothing?’

The man laughed out loud, springing his head back and hitting his hands on the frock of his dress. ‘I wondered why you didn’t ask that yet. I’m an actor. Us actors are strange folk, Mr Calverton, which is evident from the fact that you are having the most important conversation of your life in an alley behind a theatre.’

The strangeness of the location of this meeting struck me, as I choked, ‘Most important – conversation – my life?’

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 1

‘To prove once and for all what you gave voice to; meet me behind the theatre of La Broadwai at nine. There shall your fate be decided, and the deeds of vengeance be done.’

I folded the letter and kept it in the inside pocket of my coat. In front of me lay a big decision. Behind, I saw starvation, born from the hunger for revenge. This man could help me. But how did he know about me, my address, about the worm wriggling around in my mind? I need a Plan-B, something for backup.

Looking around me, I spotted my dead father’s walking stick. This can ensure safety. Tears came into my eyes as I looked upon the inscription. On the brass stick, in letters of gold, was engraved Joseph Calverton, Pale Leaf Towers, Mayfair. His last words, ‘I am innocent‘, were echoing around in my mind. The strong impulse of anger and despair made me move out of the house into the hustle-bustle of Whitechapel Road.

The theatre’s location was alien to me. I summoned a cab and asked the driver about it, who, to my utter good fortune, had worked there as a guard a couple of years ago. So far so good. As we drove, I noticed a few red drops upon the driver’s dashboard. I shooed the dangerous thought out of my mind. And yet it was particularly singular.

The driver stopped the cab in front of La Broadwai. I paid him and looked up at the theatre. It was a fair-sized building, and in front of it using colourful lights was written Clara Theatre Fest. A brisk walk around the building took me to an alley at its back, where I stood, waiting for the stranger. A glance at my wrist-watch told me it was quarter to nine. What shall I do for fifteen minutes? Twenty five yards away I spotted a discarded bench propped up against the wall. Trotting up to it, I sat down.

This quarter of an hour provided me with an advantage of studying my surroundings. The passage was a bit narrow, so that I felt a bit suffocated. In front of me were kept wooden boxes and crates on which I supported my legs. On both sides I saw the same scenery. The size of the alley gave me a reason to believe why the sender had called me here – he wanted to talk something private, possibly the thing which I was expecting all along.

The sound of footsteps alerted me and I sat up straight. At the edge of the alleyway I could see a man clad in a curious costume – a ballerina frock and a hairband with two popping balls on the top - walking towards me. His eyeballs were moving in all the directions, looking for the person who was scheduled to arrive at this moment. Trudging along the high walls of the theatre, I began to think how to address this person, given his attire, but before I could do so, he increased his pace and clasped my right hand, saying, ‘Glad to meet you, Mr Calverton. It’s time to look into the matter.’

A Scandal of Sorts - Forward

Time for my next short story novel - A Scandal of Sorts!

'A Scandal of Sorts' is my first attempt at writing crime stories. This story I'm going to present is an attempt at practicing and brushing up my writing skills. Although I wrote it last year, I certainly wanted to share it with all of you and read your reviews.

This short story novel comprises of ten chapters, kept a bit short so that you can read them in very less time and not feel bored. You are welcome to point out my mistakes in order for me to improve. Thanks!

The first chapter will be posted in a short while.

Happy Reading!

'Holi'days!

Howdy people! Exams are over for most of us (if not, don't worry, they will), and half of our time is spent thinking what to do in this break. Some prefer watching movies, but then you remember you have to finish that book, after which it strikes you that you haven't completed the one game you wanted to finish on your tab or anything.

When too much of fun fills up your schedule and swallows it whole and bites it with its sharp teeth, you feel a pang of guilt. Just that small pinch of an idea inside your brain where you hesitate that you should be studying a bit now. For whatever our parents tell us to do, we have to do it some time or the other. Otherwise, we have that feeling of guilt inside us. 

But why think about all this right now? Because in most cases, the end of the exams marks the onset of the Holi season. Great presence of mind is required in order to escape balloons thrown by some kids from their rooftops. However, if we fail... well, all of us know what it is like getting hit by a balloon.

But I think it's fun sometimes. Cold water is so refreshing! If you're so swelled up in need and in need of a good water bath, just come in the way of a balloon and get hit. (I would love to see the look on the shooters' faces. Hehe)

Just yesterday in the park, a few older kids were making fools of everyone. They showed us balloons, we ran away from there, but then they burst them and we realized... they weren't filled with water, they were air balloons. I wanted to hide my face after that.

If you want to have an account of how Holi is played, and relive those memories of this festival, you should view my cousin's blog. I felt nostalgic after reading this post, along with watering of my mouth! http://dailydelightavecmoi.blogspot.in/2014/03/holi.html

So let's jump back to the end of the exams. The thing with me is that I've given so many exams in my life that I'm kinda bored of them. Without much effort, good marks can be obtained. The Indian education system promotes mugging up and doesn't help us to think. Some good questions where we will be forced to think will oust my boredom.

From the beginning, the Indian education system has focussed on good marks. The students are pressurized for getting good marks, but has anyone asked them to study smartly so that their knowledge is increased? No.

When we ask a teacher something extra about anything, in most cases we get the reply, 'Beta, yeh exam mein nahin aayega, karne ki zaroorat nahin hai.'

('Child, this won't come in the exams, no need to do this topic.')

This leads to cheating, as most of the students want good marks. No one focusses on whether they're getting to know interesting information or not. Then they ask us why we're cheating.

Soooo, I'm bored.

Dumping this rebellious mood, let's inhibit a carefree attitude and have some fun in these holidays! Happy Holi and Happy Good Result!

The Storehouse of Fragrance

So beautiful is this world - 

a storehouse of fragrance.

Each distinct scent

has a meaning of itself.

When open I the pages

Of the perfumed book I love,

I swim with it to far-off lands

And glide over my dreams.

The pleasant scent of mud

Reminds of rain pattering on leaves

Of water trickling down the window

Of the splash of water on your feet.

And when you sense petrol

You image the vast, long roads

The long journey before you

That jourey called Life.

When quilts are taken out from holes

You enjoy the warm smell

Of winter, of cold

Of that eternal, ever-lasting sleep.

When coffee stirs in the mug

When you hold it to your nose

Remember the work you have done

And the service left to do.

When the fan rotates with arms all spread

The fragrance of freedom fills the room

Marking the end of the exams

And the cool, enjoyable summer ahead.

Of Poetry and Pleasure

'Good day, oh my people,
Harken to me
Good day!'

Lately, I've vested an immense interest in poetry. Once you start reading and writing it down, there's no turning back. You get a new means of expressing what you think; the small everyday things which  keep inside them a meaning which only a few can observe and appreciate. The pleasing rhythm of poetry, its metaphors, its beautification of everyday things, have made it my comrade.

During my exams and after the exams get over, I've decided to pen down a poem a day. I know it won't be that regular right now, but once I part from the last exam, I'll certainly make this my habit. Nowadays, most of my poetry is written when I finish filling the answer sheet almost an hour before the ending time. Instead of wasting that time, I fill up my question paper with these soothing words. Practice will help me improve, and I'm sure of that. Please share your views, too.

Here's one I wrote yesterday during the Science exam:

Looking out of the window pane

Searching for ideas new

What should I write in this poem

What fabric should I sew?

The snoring scene outside

Comes to life in my eyes:

To the music of the breeze

The trees start to rise.

The grasses dance in joy

Shaking hands with the sky

The insects join the fest

Where the organs of nature enjoy.

The wonders of the earth

All unite, all celebrate

For the diversity of this world

Never makes our hearts wait.

Wait for a reason

A reason to live

Your life to the fullest

Which nature has to give.

Alas! So much to write

So much happening in this lawn.

But did I just realize?

The poem's already penned down!

Fill Yerself up with these Awesome Paradoxes

I love to write here. Sharing my thoughts with all you guys increases my knowledge considerably (yours too, I hope. Hehe). Writing here is really special to me as I get to take a break from all my studies and just spill out the beans inside my mind. (Notice the last three words. No pun intended, ye dirty minds.)

So I was just studying Hindi for my last Hindi exam, which most probably will be my life's last Hindi exam, so I hope I do well in it. I chose French over Hindi, and I'm such a hypocrite for saying that Hindi should be compulsory. Actually, yes, it should be, it's our common mother tongue. But I'm such a hypocrite. Poor me.

In the last few days, I was getting really interested by those phenomena which we call 'paradoxes'. Well, in my own words, a paradox is something which contradicts the common truth. That's why I love them.
Paradoxes tell me that there should be no rules and if there are any, they are meant to be broken. Paradoxes attract me because they disobey nature. I admire rule-breakers.

Talking about rules, have you ever noticed that 'Break all the Rules' is a rule in itself? That's what you call a paradox.

I was just surfing through Quora and I found a question related to paradoxes. I found this there...

It is epic, indeed.

All I'm depicting here are some simple paradoxes. Now for some scientific ones which are really difficult to understand. If you can think, think. Think how a certain thing can be possible. If you think all these paradoxes through, your brain will certainly start working faster and... good luck for the exams!

So there's an omniscience paradox, which I understood after thinking for a really long time. This paradox proves that it's impossible for anyone or anything to know everything. You can never know that you know everything, because if there was something that you didn't know, you wouldn't know that you didn't know it. And because you can't know that you know everything, you therefore cannot know everything.

Confused? Good start.
My tip is that you read it sentence by sentence slowly and carefully and you'll surely get through all of it. Roger that?

Now here's one.

'The next statement is true. The previous statement is false.'
Which statement is true? If the first one is true then the next one is true so the previous one is false so the next one is also false which will make the first one true which makes the second one true so the first one is false... ARGHH!

I've probably exhausted your brain by now. Mine was too. After all, we aren't Sherlock Holmes. Oh, I just love to do this to others. But did I just do you a favour or bring you to a disadvantage? In the first case, your brain processes faster than before. In the second case, you're probably exhausted by now and want to just fall onto your side. Just leave it, then. All thanks to me.

One more thing, just one. Promise.

Last time I talked about time travel. So I was just reading and researching and adding to my mental store when I realised that if time travel will be possible in future, why haven't the earthlings in the future visited us till now? If a time machine would have been invented, they certainly would have travelled into their past and met us! This makes me really, really sad.

But what if all these scientists who are inventing and discovering new things have actually arrived secretly from the future on a secret errand and are working to improve their past in order to improve their future? But then the Grandfather paradox comes in.

This world is impossible. I still don't understand what paradoxes are meant to be to us - friends, or enemies?