[The Dream – Unusual Short Story]
He was new in town, that’s all the people of Mayur Vihar knew about Mohan. He appeared to be in a world of his own, walking around the block with a proudy air and a conceited tone, he was the topic of most jokes at tea corners. One fine day, Ravi and his friends approached this alienish creature and challenged him, “Can you go around Delhi in a single day? And that too on your own?”.
He was new in town and knew as much about Delhi as a ladybug knows about trigonometry. But sick as he was, Mohan accepted the challenge without any further thoughts.
Ravi helped him board a bus towards Old Delhi. He and his friend had a good laugh that day, wondering how far Mohan would have gone before realizing that the bus was headed off to Agra.
Meanwhile, on the bus, when Mohan found out that he was fooled, he climbed down of the bus, muttering a variety of swear words for the benefit of any passerby who wanted to listen. He wandered aimlessly through the lanes and roads of Delhi. He circled the whole of Cannaught Place, sizzled his taste buds with the delicious delicacies of Old Delhi. Visited the India Gate, saw the Red Fort and had even washed himself in the Yamuna (which he later understood was a bad bad mistake!). It was nearing evening and the street lights had began popping up. He smiled to himself with a fleeting feeling that he had already won the challenge. Exhausted Mohan hauled a DTC, strongly believing that it would take him to his home, Mayur Vihar Phase – III. But little did he know that he had now entered a totally new area, or a warzone as one should call the crowds of a DTC bus. Out of nowhere the ticket collector materialized in front of him and demanded his ticket. He told him that he needed one, which the ticket collector produced out of thin air. “Five rupees”, the ticket collector said gruffly.
“Wait a second”, said Mohan and reached his wallet, or the place where it should have been,” My wallet…..its gone….!!”, He grasped.
“Oh! Reaaally?”, asked the Conductor in a tone too sweet to be true.
“Yes!”
“Oh and you have three seconds to get off before I beat you into pulp … dirty liar, trying to trick me …. !”, shouted the Conductor on poor Mohan.
His first DTC ride had been a nightmare …..” May you burn in hell you wretched DTC …………!!”, shouted Mohan after the DTC . He wandered across this new dark terrain. The bus had dropped him in a totally lonely spot. Even the street lights seemed like they were taking a nap. Mohan quickened his pace. He cursed the ticket collector, the street lights, the pick pocket who had stolen his wallet, he cursed the roads, the skies, the gods and even the president of the country, he cursed everything.
Here he was, penniless on the streets of a city he was unfamiliar with and to top it all …. he was LOST …..! Unable to contain himself he shouted, “What else could go wrong …. ?!”. No sooner had he said that, the rain gods showed their generosity …..!
“Wicked”, shouted Mohan and started running in search of a shelter, the last thing he wanted was to die of hypothermia. He blindly ran towards the corner of the street, when he reached there he was blinded by a strong white light. “GOD…..?”
HONK! HONK!
“Crap!”, exclaimed Mohan as he realized that it wasn’t GOD but a blueline bus, 5638, the number plate read.
Mohan was unaware of blueline’s reputation of crushing anyone who tried to cross them. By the time he realized that the bus wasn’t stopping anytine soon….
It was too late…..
* * *
Rohit woke up in cold sweat. He couldn’t believe what he just dreamt of. There were dreams and there were bad dreams, but this one, it was a bit too dreadful. The expression of that man still lingered in front of his eyes. He drank some water and smiled to himself, just a dream, he told himself…
* * *
Next morning Rohit told his friend Manish about his dream.
“I asked you not to play too much GTA but you didn’t listen! And now you have lost it!” , that was all Manish muttered.
In the library period, Rohit was reading the newspaper when he came across a small piece of news,
“ MAN FOUND DEAD ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MEHRAULI, OFFICIALS SAY WAS KILLED BY A BLUELINE BUS. TIRE MARKS HAVE LED TO A BUS WITH A REGISTERED DELHI NUMBER, 5638. PRIME SUSPECT WAS THE DRIVER WHO FLED PRIOR TO THE ACCIDENT.”
Strangely the number on the paper reminded Rohit of his dream and realization stuck him like a steel punch. He was too stunned to even squeak. This was way too perfect to be a coincident.
He nudged Manish and told him his latest foundings.
This time Manish took some more interest and when Rohit ended with his conclusion, he mumbled with great feeling” WHOA, you have the power to forsee death…….!”
* * *
That night Rohit was reluctant to go to bed, wondering who he might see dying tonight…..
__END__
