The Sixth Day (Part 2)

Day 1

“It is supposed to be a proper date today, and I promise not to make any more foolish loose comments”, he repeated the refrain for the seventeenth time since morning, as he tried to tame a stubborn cowlick with his dilapidated comb.

As he was taking car on to the driveway, his eyes fell onto the newspaper he had forgotten to pick up in his haste to be ready in time. He got out of the car, picked it up, placed it on the front seat and climbed back into the car. As he was turning the keys, he made an effort to glance the headline. His heart sank as he read the topline – “Chief Minister assassinated, Statewide bandh declared”. “Perfect”, he exclaimed and banged his head onto the steering wheel.

Life plays small tricks with us as we meander through the maze it set up for us to negotiate. But the same life also creates clandestine furrows to circumvent the maze walls.

Dust kicked up in generous amounts as the jeep screeched to a grinding halt in front of the palatial residence. Had Martin Scorcese or Quentin Tarantino been around, they might have scampered for the camera. As a pair of big leather boots stepped out of the vehicle, she pulled the curtain to the side to catch a glimpse of the burly moustache-clad man. She could hardly stifle her giggle.

“Good morning madam, I am Inspector Hari Om Tripathi and I am scouting all houses around here for outside visitors”, he spoke in a burlesque accent as her mother made tremendous effort to comprehend. “I believe there is one member of your family who has come to visit from outside town”, he continued.

As fear of the cop mingled with the incomprehensibility of his accent, the lady finally spoke with much effort,” Yes…err..it is…er…my daughter”.

“I’m afraid she will have to come with me for a few hours”, the return to his normal tone had almost given it away before he redeemed with a burly “to the police station, of course”.

And they were off.