Drama Fantasy Thriller
It was a lazy Sunday Afternoon. Crows cawed, the sun smiled warmly, vehicles horned occasionally, life seemed to be still. Smitran Ragubat was having an afternoon nap, a tool he used to de-stress and shut down the noise in his head often. Twenty weeks had passed since he published his last story. His publisher was putting pressure on him to come up with one for the magazine he worked for.He wondered if the muse had left him and he is no more a writer. Afternoon naps have often served him good, flushing his brain and making it empty for ideas to pour in.
And then his alarm rang.
Smitran Ragubat woke up and went for a walk. He took tea from a roadside shop , contemplating on the way for an idea for his next story. As he walked back to his home, an idea came out of the blue.
"I will walk back and meet a person, a stranger. I will earn the person's trust and ask their life's story and publish it with their permission" he thought.
He walked back and kept walking with no destination, looking for eyes which could trust him and be vulnerable enough to share their story. Just where he had tea few minutes more, he saw an old woman. She was wearing a black cotton sari draped over her head. She looked mysterious and other worldly. Her eyes met with his and he initiated a conversation.
"Ma" he said.
She looked back coldly.
"I am a writer, i am looking for a story, real story of real people. I will be very grateful if you could share your story"
She smiled back as if she was waiting for this moment.
"Will you buy me a cup of tea?" she asked.
"Definitely Ma" he said following it through.
After finishing her tea , she started narrating her story.
"Once there lived a writer who ran out of ideas to write a story. The writer was short, around 5 feet tall and fair.It was a Sunday afternoon. He just woke up from his nap and took a long walk. He had tea on a roadside shop. On finishing the tea he walked back to his home. On his way back he got the idea that he would walk back and meet a stranger and listen to the stranger's story. He would then write the stranger's story using his narration. "
"Wait" Smitran interrupted wondering if he just encountered a mad old woman cooking up a story just because she wanted a tea.
"Are you inventing a story.Is this your story?"
"No my son, this is a true story, I promise. And more interesting than mine. You would regret later if you do not listen to me" she said with a wise smile.
Perplexed Smitran asked her to continue.
"You are a curious man. Let me continue"
"The writer then met a old woman at the same tea shop he had tea a few minutes before.He asked her if she could share her story. She asked for a tea in turn. He abided and listened to her story with hesitation" she carried on.
Smitran got provoked at that moment.Noticing the tension on his face, she told him "I understand your tension but i promise you will regret later if you do not listen to me. Even if you do not trust me , you will still leave this place with a story. Isn't that a good deal, my son?" she pricked his curiosity.
Smitran felt he had nothing to lose and felt her story could still trigger his imagination on the worst case.
He listened.She continued.
"The writer listened to her story with hesitation. After the old lady finished her story , he thanked her and walked back to his home in confusion. He shut his door,opened his laptop and started writing the story. A few minutes passed when he heard his door bell rang. He opened the door and found three well dressed men. The one on the left wore a blue coat with a red tie. He had a daughter whom he had dropped at a dance academy that day morning.The second one wore a black coat with a red tie.He was an avid football fan and had booked a ticket for the next day's ISL match and the third one wore a black coat with a white tie.He was a drunkard and had an affair with his sister's friend and had come from her home that evening satisfying his carnal desires.All three of them joined the corporate goon gang trusting that money and power would hide their secrets.
The man in blue coat took a revolver out of his coat pocket and pointed it towards the writer . They took him on gun point to their car.That the writer lived in an isolated and almost deserted street only helped the three men's pursuit. Luckily the writer didn't try to escape. If he had they would have shot him in the very place.Things would have been a little more difficult for the boss of the three men to bury the evidence though. He got inside the car.The eeriness of the place made the writer even more scared.
The men tied his hands and plastered his mouth just like they do in the movies and rode him to a deserted place along a beach road. On reaching the place , one of the men untied him. The men in the blue coat again pointed the gun towards him.
"This is the prize for the article you published about our boss.We are going to shoot you" one of the men in black coat threatened.
"Tell us how you got all the information, we will give you a chance to live" the other man in black coat threatened.
The writer had written an article about a corporate scam two weeks back. He had even got personal on his attacks on the chairman of the company. Little did he realize that the chairman was even more evil and had corporate goons for his help. Revealing the source of evidence would not stop the goons from shooting him.It was only their optional goal to know the source .That was their boss's strategy. The writer realized it and refused to reveal any information.
The man in the blue coat then casually shot the writer three times, to death.
Poor fellow, he could have escaped if and only if he had listened to the old woman's story well enough"
The old woman finished the story. Smitran stood scared and confused at the mad old woman's story.He thanked her and went back to his room.
He opened his laptop and started writing down the story. His door bell rang. He opened the door nervously. There were three men standing at the door , one wearing a blue coat with a red tie, another with a black coat and a red tie and the last with a black coat and a white tie. The one wearing the blue coat pointed the gun towards Smitran and the three men took him at gun point to their car. They tied his hands and plastered his mouth and drove along the beach road to a deserted place.
"This is the prize for the article you published about our boss.We are going to shoot you" one of the men in black coat said.
"Tell us how you got all the information we will give you a chance to live" the other man in black coat threatened.
"Poor fellow, he could have escaped if and only if he had listened to the old woman's story well enough"
The old woman's words rang in his ears aloud.
Smitran began thinking deeply.
"I warn you all three. I have powers you cannot understand.I can control what is going to happen to you.You will all die on your return if you kill me" Smitran threatened with faked confidence.
The three men laughed aloud at his apparent madness . It was getting dark and the place got more and more eerie. The chirping of insects added more to the eeriness.
"You do not believe me , isnt it."
"You" he pointed at the one wearing the blue coat,
"You dropped your daughter today morning at the dance academy"
"You" , he pointed at the one wearing the black coat with red tie
"You have booked a ticket for tomorrow's football match and You" he pointed at the last man
"You have an affair with your sister's friend, you had sex with her today"
The three men stood shocked.
"There is no way he could know about the affair. I have kept it very secret"
"I didnt let anyone know that i dropped my daughter"
"No one knows that i have booked a ticket for tomorrow's match"
Thoughts danced in the three men's heads. They turned to each other , their faces revealing to each other the truth of Smitran's accusations.
"Now i tell you with 100 percent assurance , you all will die if you kill me ,on your return. You wont reach your homes . Run away now without harming me , your fate will be reversed" he said in a mystic tone.Logic lost to emotion.Fear won.
Confused and scared the three men ran to their car.
At a distance , along the beach, the old woman looked at him and gave him a mystic smile.
Smitran smiled back.