23.00 Hours, 31 May 2007, Adyar, Chennai.
My name is Anbuselvan – Anbuselvan IPS, Deputy Commissioner of Police, North Chennai. If my name rings a bell, bless your memory. I’m exactly the same Anbuselvan IPS you are thinking about. Ok, let’s not disturb my wife Maya (Yeah…Maya is alive – hale and healthy) and daughter Aradhana who are sleeping, and move out as I speak. I am leaving my house for a typical encounter. If I am right this would be my hundredth encounter in four years. The target for today is yet another goon with some north Chennai locality as his prefix. My team would be waiting at the location.
Oh! I forgot to tell u the location. It’s at the Mount Road, between Tarapore Towers and the Mosque.
23.30 Hours.
Chennai’s busiest road had started losing its life line of traffic. It had just drizzled, making the road look like a motionless river of Mirinda Orange, in the glow of sodium vapor lamps. The brightness in the signboards and hoardings of the city had started losing their lives, in a move to saving electricity and advertisement costs.
Anbuselvan’s team got ready for the attack. Anbuselvan was carrying his Jericho 941 F - 9 mm pistol just for an emergency. He wanted to be part of the action as it was his 100th encounter. It was more than a year since he had fired a shot because his professionally trained team carried out encounters in a slick manner under his supervision. Off late he was turning into just a spectator. He was proud of his team, and sometimes even jealous at the style with which his subordinates handled guns and encounters. He went around the place and briefed the plan once again to Shivakumar IPS - Assistant Commissioner, his immediate subordinate. Everything was set for the usual fireworks to begin…
At 00.15, a white TATA Sumo came into sight speeding towards Mount Road from General Patters Road. The team took positions. As the Sumo crossed the traffic signal, one of the thugs smelled the situation, and alarmed the driver who took a sharp right turn instead of heading straiught. Sensing this sudden reaction, a nervous new recruit in Anbuselvan's team, fired his shot gun at the Sumo, successfully killing the driver with a head shot. Anbuselvan hastily fired two shots from his pistol back to back at the Sumo, before he realized his mistake.
His second bullet went past the Sumo and hit a speeding two wheeler, in front of Wellington Plaza…
23.00 Hours, 31 May 2007, Mount Road, Chennai.
Hi Folks, my name is Badri Narayanan, a 24 year old chartered accountant working for a Global Audit & Consulting firm. I belong to the category who earn a good high-ended six digit salary, who crib about work but do nothing other than work, who demand work-life balance but do nothing about it and finally who keep the client waiting for eternity but never like to be kept waiting by the client. I am currently in the situation as explained in the last phrase of the previous sentence. This finance team of my client has run into an emergency meeting called by the CFO. It seems the CEO has lost his son – a college student in a road accident 10 days back. The meeting is primarily to express the staffs' condolence to the bereaved family of the CEO and also some CSR(Corporate Social Responsibility) stuff. I don’t know what these guys are up to for such a long time in a condolence meeting. Ah! atlast here comes Subbu, the assistant manager-finance… hey what’s he carrying in his hand?
00.00 Hours
After an hour of heated arguments between Badri and Subbu on fringe benefits accounting, both the guys decided to call it a day.
“See you Subbu, thanks for making me see the birth of a new day” Badri said sarcastically.
“Its ok Badri. I love to take your role once a while in making others wait. I hope all your audit queries are clarified." said Subbu. He then added, "Don’t forget that in your anger. It is our company’s gift to every staff and the auditors. Part of our new CSR policy Badri.” pointing at the box he had carried into the room an hour before.
Badri looked at that and said to himself, ’One more form of headache from these guys’. He turned to Subbu and said, “Subbu, Its not for my kinda guys.And I’m not giving my word on those queries. I’ll get back to you on those some time tomorrow. Good Morning!”
“Good Morning Badri”
When Badri packed everything and moved to the lift, he remembered that the lift was switched off. Cursing the building management he walked down all the 80 steps to the basement listening to ‘Ballelaka..’ in his ipod, which was his only company.
As he neared his pulsar, he fixed his earphones in their place. But they wouldn’t stand comfortably thanks to the new ‘headache’. Some how he started his bike and came out of the basement, doing multiple motocross kind of turns to avoid sleeping alcoholics (the other half of the basement was a TASMAC Bar).
Once at the entrance of the building, he got ready for his midnight cruise. He stepped on the 1st gear, and rose off to a shooting start. Second and third gears came at 6500 rpm. He was feeling like a pirate in the open sea of Mount Road. In a few seconds, he was in his 5th gear and his tacho showing 8000 rpm.
As he approached the General patters road signal @ 95 kmph, he saw a white SUMO cut across the road.
Before he could slowdown, he felt something hitting his head as hard as a bullet…
08.00 Hours, 2 June 2007, Royapettah Government Hospital
Badri woke up from his sleep. His awakening brought him unbearable agony. His limbs were completely plastered in paris. He could see his mom sleeping in a chair next to his bed.
His attention towards his agony was diverted by someone talking loudly over a mobile phone.
“Anbuselvan sir, this is Shivakumar. The motorcyclist Badri Narayanan is very much alive. He has just suffered fractures in both his legs. Nothing serious…”
“…”
“Oh! That bullet, no sir it could do no damage to him. Thanks to the helmet he was wearing.”
Badri looked around the room for the helmet. He found it at a corner with a bullet sticking to its right side. He silently thanked God and CSR for saving his life.
As he drifted back to sleep again, the spirit of Sandeep glided out of the helmet, blessing his father for the CSR initiative.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My name is Anbuselvan – Anbuselvan IPS, Deputy Commissioner of Police, North Chennai. If my name rings a bell, bless your memory. I’m exactly the same Anbuselvan IPS you are thinking about. Ok, let’s not disturb my wife Maya (Yeah…Maya is alive – hale and healthy) and daughter Aradhana who are sleeping, and move out as I speak. I am leaving my house for a typical encounter. If I am right this would be my hundredth encounter in four years. The target for today is yet another goon with some north Chennai locality as his prefix. My team would be waiting at the location.
Oh! I forgot to tell u the location. It’s at the Mount Road, between Tarapore Towers and the Mosque.
23.30 Hours.
Chennai’s busiest road had started losing its life line of traffic. It had just drizzled, making the road look like a motionless river of Mirinda Orange, in the glow of sodium vapor lamps. The brightness in the signboards and hoardings of the city had started losing their lives, in a move to saving electricity and advertisement costs.
Anbuselvan’s team got ready for the attack. Anbuselvan was carrying his Jericho 941 F - 9 mm pistol just for an emergency. He wanted to be part of the action as it was his 100th encounter. It was more than a year since he had fired a shot because his professionally trained team carried out encounters in a slick manner under his supervision. Off late he was turning into just a spectator. He was proud of his team, and sometimes even jealous at the style with which his subordinates handled guns and encounters. He went around the place and briefed the plan once again to Shivakumar IPS - Assistant Commissioner, his immediate subordinate. Everything was set for the usual fireworks to begin…
At 00.15, a white TATA Sumo came into sight speeding towards Mount Road from General Patters Road. The team took positions. As the Sumo crossed the traffic signal, one of the thugs smelled the situation, and alarmed the driver who took a sharp right turn instead of heading straiught. Sensing this sudden reaction, a nervous new recruit in Anbuselvan's team, fired his shot gun at the Sumo, successfully killing the driver with a head shot. Anbuselvan hastily fired two shots from his pistol back to back at the Sumo, before he realized his mistake.
His second bullet went past the Sumo and hit a speeding two wheeler, in front of Wellington Plaza…
23.00 Hours, 31 May 2007, Mount Road, Chennai.
Hi Folks, my name is Badri Narayanan, a 24 year old chartered accountant working for a Global Audit & Consulting firm. I belong to the category who earn a good high-ended six digit salary, who crib about work but do nothing other than work, who demand work-life balance but do nothing about it and finally who keep the client waiting for eternity but never like to be kept waiting by the client. I am currently in the situation as explained in the last phrase of the previous sentence. This finance team of my client has run into an emergency meeting called by the CFO. It seems the CEO has lost his son – a college student in a road accident 10 days back. The meeting is primarily to express the staffs' condolence to the bereaved family of the CEO and also some CSR(Corporate Social Responsibility) stuff. I don’t know what these guys are up to for such a long time in a condolence meeting. Ah! atlast here comes Subbu, the assistant manager-finance… hey what’s he carrying in his hand?
00.00 Hours
After an hour of heated arguments between Badri and Subbu on fringe benefits accounting, both the guys decided to call it a day.
“See you Subbu, thanks for making me see the birth of a new day” Badri said sarcastically.
“Its ok Badri. I love to take your role once a while in making others wait. I hope all your audit queries are clarified." said Subbu. He then added, "Don’t forget that in your anger. It is our company’s gift to every staff and the auditors. Part of our new CSR policy Badri.” pointing at the box he had carried into the room an hour before.
Badri looked at that and said to himself, ’One more form of headache from these guys’. He turned to Subbu and said, “Subbu, Its not for my kinda guys.And I’m not giving my word on those queries. I’ll get back to you on those some time tomorrow. Good Morning!”
“Good Morning Badri”
When Badri packed everything and moved to the lift, he remembered that the lift was switched off. Cursing the building management he walked down all the 80 steps to the basement listening to ‘Ballelaka..’ in his ipod, which was his only company.
As he neared his pulsar, he fixed his earphones in their place. But they wouldn’t stand comfortably thanks to the new ‘headache’. Some how he started his bike and came out of the basement, doing multiple motocross kind of turns to avoid sleeping alcoholics (the other half of the basement was a TASMAC Bar).
Once at the entrance of the building, he got ready for his midnight cruise. He stepped on the 1st gear, and rose off to a shooting start. Second and third gears came at 6500 rpm. He was feeling like a pirate in the open sea of Mount Road. In a few seconds, he was in his 5th gear and his tacho showing 8000 rpm.
As he approached the General patters road signal @ 95 kmph, he saw a white SUMO cut across the road.
Before he could slowdown, he felt something hitting his head as hard as a bullet…
08.00 Hours, 2 June 2007, Royapettah Government Hospital
Badri woke up from his sleep. His awakening brought him unbearable agony. His limbs were completely plastered in paris. He could see his mom sleeping in a chair next to his bed.
His attention towards his agony was diverted by someone talking loudly over a mobile phone.
“Anbuselvan sir, this is Shivakumar. The motorcyclist Badri Narayanan is very much alive. He has just suffered fractures in both his legs. Nothing serious…”
“…”
“Oh! That bullet, no sir it could do no damage to him. Thanks to the helmet he was wearing.”
Badri looked around the room for the helmet. He found it at a corner with a bullet sticking to its right side. He silently thanked God and CSR for saving his life.
As he drifted back to sleep again, the spirit of Sandeep glided out of the helmet, blessing his father for the CSR initiative.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The story is more of a PSR (Personal Social Responsibility) initiative from me towards the non-helmet wearing folks and the ones who've been praising the CM for his 'Helmet's are a personal preference' statement.
Not all helmets will have spirits of Sandeep to save you from bullets. But I am sure that they will atleast be able to save you from a lifelong Coma or a yearly 'devasam' in your name.
Does any of you really remember Sandeep?
Read happily. Drive safely ;-)
Not all helmets will have spirits of Sandeep to save you from bullets. But I am sure that they will atleast be able to save you from a lifelong Coma or a yearly 'devasam' in your name.
Does any of you really remember Sandeep?
Read happily. Drive safely ;-)
2 comments:
i envy that 1400gms matter inside ur neurocranium, which my son has given you!
Hats off for the well-conceived and brilliantly presented story
:-)
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