It was a steep incline, I was driving towards it on my two wheeler. But the wall rose up before me as a wave would, and to drive over it, I had to let go of my vehicle and crawl up to the edge of the top. I made it with barely enough time, the fringes of a collapse pattern were forming beneath my heels as I stepped on it and ran across the wave’s head.
My friends drove before me, two of them, I wondered for a brief moment, if we would make it at all. They were no where in the horizon, squinting my eyes at the ugly bearded hag in a meditative mode in the room on my left, I proceeded to search for the window sill in the house. Something I remembered form the previous time I visited the place, I shuddered to let the thought play on my mind though, for I had barely ever visited this haunting mansion before. Then I found, behind a yellow coated wall, through the red tiled hallway; I reached out to the window and crouched into it. Outside, the sound of sirens and the street’s routine calmed me, for now I was in a familiar territory.
I climbed down the four storied amorphous building that melted as an image would in my eyes. The bar was lit with green neon bulbs, a bouncer stood outside and was carefully eyeing everyone. Then everything froze in my eyes, it is as if I could not perceive anything anymore. For a long time, though how long I cannot say, I was blind. And I saw again, there I was in the lush green cricket ground behind my house.
Three of my friends were with me, I was keeping with no gloves on. My Nike sneakers were wet, for I stepped into the pool of mud to scoop out the hard tennis ball. I was conversing with the batsman throughout the game. It was mostly about the batsman’s brother. I was very curious.
I was not bowling so well, an off swinger held to its line and went down the leg side. last ball of the over; the keeper was very vigilant, he moved towards the leg side a little. It was a good length ball and it bounced a little more than usual. The ball after hitting the ground inches before the batsmen’s front leg, swung back instead of drifting to the leg, and stole its way through the gap between the bat and pad, hit him in the ribs. It was so gratifying.
I had to have a glass of beer with my friends. It was incumbent on me, an overpowering desire to get on a high, and indulge in a nice conversation about nothing in particular. But the friends were lost, they drove off before me as if they knew the way around. We met on the way, and I becalmed myself before rebuking them, for they had to slow down a little. But this provoked my friends and they drove off even faster, I told myself, they will pullover the nearest bar. But we never met again.
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