Friday, July 5, 2013

He said he was thinking

When the police asked, all that idiot had to say was he was thinking! Although I kept silence, I was literally pissed off by that answer. He said, "I was thinking", and that was all. I would have instantly slapped on his face, had he not been lying on that bed with injuries all over his body, surrounded by medical team and police. I reached for my chest pocket which was torn apart by an enraged auto rickshaw driver. I tried telling him it was all that idiot's fault, but there was no one to listen to me. ('Idiot' was perhaps the most decent word I could find to call him that time.) As far as road accidents are concerned, our people hold a prejudice that bigger vehicle is always the guilty one. When a pedestrian is involved, it's always the driver who is guilty. No one asks whether the living organism in question was walking carefully, or he or she were obeying the road rules or so. You drove a vehicle means you were guilty.

 The police left without giving me much trouble, since this boy had said he had no complaint against me. But I couldn't leave so easily. Who would account for my damages, when I stand completely innocent? What about my shattered wind shield? What about my torn clothes? What about those smashes I received when I was trying to defend my side?

When Amritha called, I didn't say anything. How could I tell her my car hit some freak young boy and had to face a stampede of traffic moral police on road and I am in hospital with the villain! I just told her I am in a mess and will be late. Even after the doctor left, I stayed there. If I can't settle things with him, I shall settle it with his parents or whomsoever comes for him first. When the nurse was doing some stuff with the stitches on his face, I murmured,

"See, it was all his fault..."

She looked at me,

"He was totally careless on road. I was in moderate speed, he just strayed into my way..."

Before I could complete my arguments, I could make out from her expression that that middle aged angel was least interested in what I had to say. So I stopped.

When she left, I saw him lying there with closed eyes. But the movements of his eyeballs were  saying that he was not sleeping at all.

I stayed there constantly haunted by the embarrassing moments I had gone through just half an hour before. Surrounded by enraged crowd, hearing names, being beat up...

I was eagerly waiting for someone from his side to come, when another young boy showed up. He came hurriedly and was panting. When I saw his expression on seeing my villain's posture, I asked,

"You are a friend of him, aren't you?"

Before he could answer me, his attention went to the bed-ridden who had by then opened his eyes hearing us talk.

"Vinu, what was that?"

"It was all his fault", I couldn't resist repeating this.

The second boy looked at me with an expression apparently asking me to stop talking until he takes a close glance of his friend. I clang to silence.

 Vinu asked his friend, "Did it come Joy?"

"Vinu, let's talk about it later. You please take rest now."

"No Joy, I am okay. You tell me, did it come? What is it?"

Throwing a short glance at me, Joy spoke to him after a pause.

"Yes, the verdict has come. The Court granted divorce to your dad and mom."

I, now sitting on a stool nearby, stood up hearing this. I saw Vinu slowly closing his eyes as before. Joy looked at me. I didn't know what to say or do. I felt my torn pocket with my palm once again and just walked away.

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