treeeeeeeeeen! “Close the alarm”
“Its the ring of a call” I said with my eyes trying hard to open.
“Then pick it up”, my bed fellow said with unfeigning frustration.
Hardly had I fumbled for my specs and glared the wall clock when it almost rang for around 15 times. There were rumours omniwhere that for the past few years I was never seperated with my roommate cum my senior Ravi for more than a few hours. I decided that I will blow out on the sinister calling at 1 a.m
“+44”, my first word with eyes and mouth almost gaped simultaneously.
Leaving behind the sloth snail I galloped across as if a bull tonic is inserted into my arteries as often happens in Chhota Bheem and my adrenal worked better looking forward my anxiety.
“ICJ’S decision ran in opposion to what Pakistan expected.” With a slight sigh “If not Jadhav then let it be Pravav”, I said panting almost incessantly.
“Stop making ominous conjectures and its just your hallucination.”, I uttered out to myself as a consolance.
I realised my high Oxford words making Ravi uncomfortable. Nevertheless with some doubt, he said something robustly
“As much as I can remember Pakistan is ’92′”.
“Then it may be Syria.”
“It is +9043.”
Any unprogrammed brain could have extolled such a relativistic response.Since childhood Ravi has always disillusioned me with his retort. His unsuccessful inferences often led me in trouble. For readers it is of acquisition that international call code of Syria is +963.
“Hello”, I could not realise when my hands allowed him pillaging my cell phone.
Some damped vibrations less than 20 Hz collided my ear drum.
No gap between systole and diastole.It hit me harder than the head of frozen lamb. Blood gushed through my arteries like a warp drive launched from Sriharikota.
“Cut the connection else doctors will say sorry for us”
“Oh! not Korea, it’s London”, that mania said in a low voice.
Last few seconds were like a 15th century person is on searching life on another planet.It was an interrogative clause which sounded imperative. It is a transgression to ask a murderer if he has done anything wrong. I doubted his good sense for even a psycho knows it well that an ox averses red colour.
“Is this the tymm to call? Is your country still depended on sundial?”
Then he used famous street ‘gaalis’ like “………”even my pen reluctants here.