The Crush

I glanced at my watch. Coach Singh was still answering a question from a reporter from The Sydney Morning Herald. The press conference should be over in a few more minutes. I looked around the room full of sports reporters covering the London Olympics. I stopped when my eyes met hers. She looked familiar. Who was she?

“We are quite confident that our champion boxer Sibi will win the Olympic gold. He is fully prepared and in excellent form. That is all we have time for today!” The coach turned to me and I nodded in agreement.

“That's a wrap folks!”

We got up. The cameras clicked incessantly as we left the conference room.

I ran into Anwar Mubarak, the Egyptian I was going to face tomorrow in the finals. He was in great form too and a formidable opponent. I waved to him and smiled when I noticed the woman from the press meeting walking towards me.

“Excuse me. Can I talk to you for a few seconds?”

I recognized her now.

“I am...”

“Shoba! Right?”

I couldn't contain my surprise.

“Yes! I am glad that you remember me.”

“It's been, what... ten years? Since we last met...”

She nodded.

“I live here in London. I am a reporter with The Guardian.”

“Wow!”

“Oh! Believe me, I am not going to talk shop! I am just excited to see you after such a long time. Listen, do you have some time now? I would like to catch up with you.”

“Sure. I was heading back to my room and retire for the night. But, we can go to the bar and talk over a few drinks.”

“Great Sibi!”

I inhaled deeply. Here she was... the girl I had a crush on during high school. Beautiful as ever, maybe even more now than what I imagined her to be. The mild fragrance from her perfume hit my nostrils as she stood inches away from me. It brought back memories of how madly crazy I was about her back in the days.

We grabbed our drinks and settled down at a table at a relatively quiet corner of the bar. My phone rang. It was the coach.

“I am sorry. You'll have to excuse me. I have to take this call!”

I excused myself and stepped out to take the call. I returned a minute later.

“Sorry. Singh is super pumped about all this. I hope I win the Olympic Gold!”

“You didn't want to talk shop...” She reminded me.

“Yeah, sorry... Tell me about you. How have you been?”

“I am doing great. I've been in London the past couple of years...”

“Married?”

“No... Still looking for the right man.” She smiled.

“Oh, that's a shame...” I said sipping my drink and looking at her dark black eyes.

She was quiet. I felt that familiar feeling of butterflies in my stomach.

We talked for thirty minutes about everything except what I wanted to tell her. I couldn't muster the courage to tell her how much I loved her. We shook hands. She left.

I returned to my room. I closed the door behind me and banged my head lightly a couple of times and stood there cursing myself.

* * *

I stared at the Olympic Gold medal that was mine from yesterday's fight. I had knocked out Anwar in the third round to grab the gold. I couldn't believe it was being stripped away from me!

The morning newspapers lay in front of me. All of them carried the news about the doping scandal. They reported that high levels of the banned substance 4-hydroxytestosterone was found in my blood and urine samples taken before the fight.

The official letter from the Olympic Committee banning me from future fights lay on the table.

Coach Singh was furious.

“The damn bookies! They stoop to any level to influence the odds. That is why I called you yesterday after the press conference to warn you...”

I felt as if someone grabbed my heart inside my chest and crushed it into a million pieces when it dawned on me that the girl I loved from high school had spiked my drink.

D is for Diabolical

T

he restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Prabhu sat with her at a corner table sipping his coffee while she slurped the milkshake.

 “So, the policy will be issued for two crores?”

“Yes, I know that our underwriting department has cleared it last week and the policy was mailed out yesterday. You should have it on hand either today or tomorrow.”

The Existential Argument

R

aman was getting late for his work. His wife Janaki gave him a cold stare as he hurried up and finished his breakfast.

“I don’t know why I am doing this.”

“Jaanu, not again…”

“Don’t you Jaanu me again!”

“Look, you know how it is at the institute. We are this close to making an important discovery!” He gestured as he knotted his tie.

Love Signs

Albert

I walked in to the coffee shop.

She was sitting at a corner table with a John Grisham novel in one hand and a cappuccino in another. That was the first time that I saw her. I didn’t know what to call it, but just looking at her made me feel like I was walking on air.

Collateral Damage

R

aghavan was in the meeting when his cell phone beeped once to signal the arrival of a text message. He looked up at his manager who was making a presentation and he figured there was at least another thirty minutes of his monologue left. He slid back in his chair ever so slightly to glance at his cell phone without attracting the attention of others in the room.

When are you coming back? Call me ASAP. Anju.

Newsmakers

A

njali stepped into the elevator clutching her purse in one hand and a coffee cup in another. She smiled at the girl in the elevator who worked in the display advertising section.

“You look fabulous!” said the girl.

“Do I? I thought this outfit made me look too skinny…”

Anjali tried to hide her happiness beneath the matter-of-fact expression on her face.

“Busy day?” asked the girl.

“Looks like it. I am going up to attend the stand-up meeting with the editors.”

The elevator stopped at the next floor.

“See you later!”

Anjali stepped out and walked towards the conference room.

* * *

“I just got a call from the office of The Commissioner of Police. There is a press conference at 11.00 AM. It looks like they have made an arrest in the Kamini murder case.” Editor Sridharan, a man in his early fifties, paused and looked around the room.

Kamini was a leading actress. That was until she was murdered a week ago. Her body was found in the hotel room with multiple stab wounds.

“That’s an hour from now!” remarked Anjali.

“Yes. You will take the lead and cover the interview as you have been on this case for the past few days.”

“Ok. I am on my way out. I will call back as soon as I find out.”

The rest of the people in the room got to the other news items for the next day’s issue.

Anjali walked out of the room with her scooter keys jingling when her cell phone rang. It was from Prashant.

* * *

“We have solved Ms. Kamini’s murder case today. We have arrested Mr. Prashant, son of the general secretary of the ruling party.”

All the journalists clamoured to ask questions.

“I will take questions at the end. We have strong evidence to tie Mr. Prashant to the murder of Ms. Kamini.”

The Commissioner continued with the details of the investigation. Anjali wasn’t there at the press conference.

* * *

Prashant wasn’t just any ordinary man. He was the son of the general secretary of the party in power at the state.

Anjali was just getting out of the conference room when he called her cell phone.

“I am in deep trouble, Anjali!”

“Why? What happened?”

“I am being arrested as the prime suspect in the actress Kamini murder case! I am being framed!”

“What?”

“Yes. You and I know that this is ridiculous. But I think there are people inside and outside the party who want to take me down with this murder allegation.”

Prashant was a rising star in the party. If everything went well, he was poised to take over the reins of the party from his father.

Anjali knew Prashant right from college. They were friends first and slowly it had morphed into an intense relationship. Over the years, their relationship had changed hues, especially after Prashant’s marriage. The marriage was a political convenience that Prashant’s family wanted. Prashant and Anjali continued with their secret affair. Anjali was fine with the nature of this arrangement and had no qualms or sentimentality attached to it. The only thing that she cared about was keeping this affair under wraps.

“They are saying that the knife that was found at the scene of the murder has my finger prints! Ok, I have to go. The police are here!”

The call ended.

* * *

Anjali knew that Prashant was innocent. She was his alibi. On the night of the murder, Prashant was with her. There was no way he could have committed the murder.

It was clear that she had to come out of the closet in order to save Prashant. She decided that was the right thing to do. She will meet his father and let him know. He is a senior party leader. Maybe he can do something to save his own son.

* * *

“You want me to believe that my son has been having a secret affair with you for many years!”

“Yes. That is the truth.”

“Did anyone from the opposition party put you up to this to tarnish the image of my son and family?”

“Sir, the only reason I came here is to make sure that your son doesn’t get framed for a murder that he didn’t commit.”

He clutched his heart and winced in pain. His chest heaved and he fell to the ground, dead from a massive heart attack.

* * *

The entire editorial team and correspondents were gathered around the table. Editor Sridharan cleared his throat.

“Do we have the photographs of all the people?”

“Yes! Everything is ready.”

“Can I see the article draft?”

Politician’s wife shoots reporter and kills herself.

OUR STAFF CORRESPONDENT, Oct 5, 2010–Leading state politician Prashant’s wife killed newspaper reporter Anjali who was covering her husband’s murder case. It may be noted that Prashant was arrested yesterday for the murder of actress Kamini…

* * *

Anjali was shocked to see Prashant’s father suffer a massive heart attack right in front of her eyes. That’s when she noticed Prashant’s wife with a .22 Magnum revolver in her hand walking towards her.

“Here’s a newsflash, dear! Prashant was seeing that golddigger Kamini. When I found out, I decided to get rid of her and punish Prashant as well by framing him for her murder. I got his fingerprints on the murder weapon when he was fast asleep after a few rounds of whisky. I am sorry I have to do this, but I cannot tolerate this infidelity!”

She shot Anjali and then pointed the gun to her head.

Love's labor lost (and found)

“I am sorry. I cannot marry you!”

“What? Who talked about marriage here?”

“I know you haven’t so far. But I want to avoid that conversation altogether. I don’t see that happening.”

“Just hypothetically—if I may ask—Why?”

“Let us just leave it that. I don’t want to go into explanations!”

He finished his lunch as she watched him without speaking a word. He got up and left.

* * *

“Hello Dr. Verma”

“Hi! Please sit down. Dr. Canterfield referred you here. I got your blood work report. Your blood sugar levels are high. With your pregnancy, this can be an added risk. It is called Gestational Diabetes.”

“Do we need to worry doctor?”

“It is nothing to worry. You will need to take insulin each day before meals. You need to spread out your meals through the day and have smaller portions. You also need to monitor your blood sugar every day. If you keep your sugar levels in control, we can eliminate most of the risk associated with GD. I will see you again in two weeks.”

She resolved that she will take care of herself. Over the months leading to her due date, she created a regimen for her diet and followed it to the T. She would never miss her daily exercise and walks. As they entered the sixth month, they joined a course for new parents at the Birthing Center at the Woodlawn Hospital. They learnt a few more exercises, he learnt how to count to help her in breathing while she would practice how to push. During the class, she would break out for a few minutes to get her insulin and have her snack on time.

* * *

Dr. Canterfield was her obstetrician. He smiled at them as he walked into the room with her file.

“We are now twelve weeks away. You need to get an ultrasound scan done each week so that we can monitor progress. Is that fine?”

“Sure, doctor”

They kept their ultrasound appointments on Wednesdays and he would take an hour’s permission from work to pick her up and get the tests done. Two months later on a Tuesday evening, she felt unusually wet. The next day when they went for the ultrasound scanning, the nurse checked her and was alarmed. She did a preliminary test and then came to them.

“It looks like your water broke. Since when did you feel this way?”

“From last evening…”

“We are paging Dr. Canterfield. He is on his rounds. He will be here any minute. Don’t worry. We will take care of you!”

As they waited for Dr. Canterfield, he thought about the day when their marriage was fixed.

* * *

After a lot of back and forth and initial shock and disapproval, the families had reconciled to the fact that the two of them were serious about marriage. So, they took the logical next step of arranging the formalities. A date was fixed and his family visited hers.

He hated ‘Adai Avial’. Of all South Indian food, that’s what they had for snacks that day at her home! His mom looked at him and had a good laugh as the girl’s sister brought more Adais by the time he finished.

* * *

She was on epidural and her contractions had started. The paper tape from the monitor showed the start of a big one. He held her hand tightly and coached her on breathing.

“One.. two..”

She felt the pain shoot up her spine.

“Push”

The contraction reached a peak. A tiny little head could be seen.

Dr. Canterfield used a pair of tongs to get the head out. The next contraction was coming.

In concert with her pushing, the baby’s left shoulder came out followed by the right.

The contractions were getting quicker and more pronounced. With one final push, the baby was out. Dr. Canterfield held the baby while the nurse cleared its nose with an extractor. Dr. Canterfield dropped the baby on her stomach and turned to the nurse. The nurse got a pair of scissors.

“Why don’t you do the honours?”

“Me. I can’t do that! I wouldn’t even know how to do it…”

“Sure you can.”

Dr. Canterfield thrust the scissors in his hand and he cut the umbilical cord.

“See, wasn’t that easy? Congratulations, both of you!”

The baby wailed.

Mind Reader

S

heila punched in the access code and unlocked the door that led to the lab. There was a sign on the wall that said

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

BEYOND THIS POINT

Sheila was twenty eight years old and had joined Dr. Russell’s laboratory as a research assistant a month ago. Dr. Russell had used a variant of functional MRI to build a prototype mind reader. She was top of her class, Summa cum laude and had published a paper on how to boost signal strengths that improved the range and capability of Dr. Russell’s mind reader. But the reason why she joined the lab was not that mind reader. She wanted to research the pièce de résistance at Dr. Russell’s lab known to everyone as Dave.

* * *

Dave was picked up by Dr. Russell when he was six years old from an orphanage. The nuns at the orphanage had a tough time with Dave. He always won every card game that they played. He never talked too much and generally kept to himself. He would find out every one of the boys if they ever played hide and seek. All the other boys thought Dave was a freak. But he got into trouble when he tried to expose Father Daniel just in time before he could harm an eight year old boy. Nobody believed Dave and he reacted violently, scaring other kids. That is when Dr. Russell was called to do a psych evaluation of Dave.

Dr.Russell had never seen anything like it before in his life. He was astonished to discover Dave. This six year old boy could read minds! Dr. Russell would use Dave to break new frontiers in understanding the mind, how it works and contribute to the greater good of the society.

* * *

Dave and Sheila were sitting at the cosy table facing each other. Sheila had the mandatory headgear that anyone within ten feet of Dave was required to wear to protect the privacy of their thoughts from Dave’s peering mind eye.

“How was your day?”

“Just like any other. You need to inform Dr. Russell that I can now hear the people who sit in the table adjacent to this wall in the adjoining cafeteria during lunch!”

Sheila consciously adjusted her helmet while Dave smiled. He continued to draw doodles in his notebook.

“You have been in this lab for almost twenty years. Have you ever wondered how it would be outside this lab?”

“Yeah, I have lived a few years outside before Dr. Russelll found me. I don’t like to recall those years.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”

“That’s okay. So, why do you wear that helmet, Sheila? Are you afraid I might learn your darkest secrets?”

“No, the lab protocol requires me to wear this!”

“Protocol Schmotocol… Listen! There is no one around here except for that camera on the ceiling over there. Jack is the security guard who is on duty and I know at this time of the day, he is not watching the monitors. He won’t be back for another ten minutes.”

“How do you know that?”

“Did I not tell you that I know what people in the cafeteria are thinking? Trust me. C’mon… Enough of that.  Let us play Truth or Dare. I will start. I dare you to take off your geeky helmet!”

Sheila hesitated for a second. Then she removed her helmet.

“That-a- girl! You are a sport.”

Truth – I’ve fallen in love with you, Dave. But, I’m afraid to ask or admit. Sheila hadn’t spoken a word.

Dave was stunned. His heart missed a few beats and then his mind galloped. Should I say, ‘I love you too?’

Yes, Dave you should. Sheila leaned forward and kissed him.