1 Unconscious sightings

The afternoon sun was blazing like the fire raging through hay. It could not be stopped nor escaped. But he was not in a mood to get upset, for it was Sunday, the only full day he got to spend at home. He was excited with the new pink colour ball which his father had bought on his demand. But he had no one to play with. His mother was looking for some insect on his sister's head and his father was not at home. He stepped out of his doorstep and looked around. The sun was high above his head. The eastern view was embedded with a sandy road stretching towards the main road of the town. The southern view was filled with yellowish grass and ochre trees. The western view gave way to the road into the deep unknown, for he never explored nor wanted to explore that road. His house was standing on the bright plain like the sun in the sky. There were no houses around for quiet some distance, save his grandma's house. As he turned towards the northern side to look for his grandma's home, a dark figure was roaming in the yellowish green plains. As he was wondering for the reason of his wandering at this place, the dark figure looked up and flashed a crooked smile. He was debating whether to trot into the house to call his mum or leave it at that when the figure approached him. It was a man who, he thought to be in his late thirties or early forties. He had a fairly big tummy and he was burly.

"Hi", the man said. "Come here", he beckoned with the same crooked smile.
Still his mind was debating whether to respond to him or to run inside the house. Slowly he stepped out of his compound wall still unsure of his actions. He had a big frightening moustache and had curly hair.

"Can we play the ball?", the man asked, noticing the ball in his hand. At this he was filled with joy for getting someone to play with. Without a second thought, he threw the ball over to him signaling to start. And they played until the sun went a few degrees down towards the west. His mother gave a loud call for making sure that he was alright.

Immediately, "Bye! Bye!", he hushed and turned to run away. He turned back as if he realized something , "Don’t tell your mom about our playing", he said and sped away.
He stood beside the wall till the man's figure shrank and turned into just a silhouette. And then he realized he forgot to ask even the name of the man. But that was all he thought, for his thoughts never came back to the man when he went to the house. He forgot all about it.
As the sun passed out into the western horizon and the bright day gave to the dimly lit twilight, he sat in the porch trying to finish his homeworks, for it was Monday the next day and the inevitable prospect of going to the school loomed over him. His father had not yet returned. His mother and sister sat on the opposite side of the oil lamp, the only source of light in the house, and the supper was served. They had just finished their simple yet content dinner when they had some noise at the backyard. His mother became alert and with his sister went to the backdoor to look out for the noise. He was suddenly afraid as he was alone in the dark and the oil lamp's light was dancing with the slight wind and gave an illusion of passing shadows. He ran to his mother and caught her saree's end as she was reaching for the backdoor.

His mother picked up a stick of her hand's length and the thickness of a cucumber. She waited behind the shades of the thatches of the backyard as the noise of heavy footsteps was nearing the backyard door. She was ready to strike at anything that came by, with her hands lifted and gripping the stick. He still stood holding her saree's end and afraid to look out, hid behind her back with his sister close behind him. An instant later, his mother leaped out of the hiding and struck the blow with such a power that he never knew of. The split second when she leaped, showed him a shiny sharp silver edge under the moon light. But that never came anywhere near them for the blow had already been struck. As if to re-emphasize her point, she struck a second blow and down the dark figure fell with a loud cry. To his horror, it was the same man with whom he played ball with...

4 comments:

  SiMbA tAgO

September 6, 2009 at 12:14 PM

i m sure its a real story.. n i appreciate ur write.. really nice one.... but can i ask whom r u mentioning here??? who is tat who got badly hit??? poor "whom-so-ever" .. .....

  soin

September 6, 2009 at 12:29 PM

pink ball? arsehole..
and what was the sister doing?
and fucking disable the word verification

  VISHNU

September 6, 2009 at 12:30 PM

too much mokka.. well i guess its ur style.. he looked in all directions nu simplea solrathukku badhila enna east west north south nu kalavaram..

  Rajesh K

September 6, 2009 at 12:31 PM

@soin- verification??