Monday, July 18, 2011

Meena

Meena was sick. She had caught cold. Last night at Kanta's she chugged the whole bottle of beer.
"When are you filing that story?" Sarjeet inquired. "Tomorrow," Meena shot back.
Tak-tak-tak, the subs tinkered the pages on their computers. Meena drank from her bottle, took one deep breath and dove into her story.
"Yeah I know that I have to file this story in the next 30 seconds. I will do it don't worry. Yeah I know how important is the story." Her hands began to hit the keyboard like bullets from a sten gun as thoughts tried to drown her. She was trying to cheat her deadline; but it seemed that she was trying to cheat a time bomb.
The buzz from last night's orgy, however, stood her in good stead. She could swim.
"Sir, I have saved the story in arch-scan-sport," she meekly submitted to her boss. "Teekh hain," Sarjeet grated.
She finished her assignment two hours before the stipulated time. Not a fantasy, no delusions, no appreciation; she never expected all that.
An eye-contact, a sliver of a smile but all she got was curt "teekh hain."
There is no one in the house. Friends have left. "I wanted to go to the beach," she carped. "Hey I'm going to crash now, good night," the last of her comrade headed back to the barracks. Time: 06:30 HRS.
She took refuge in men's best friend -- laptop -- for a while. She fidgeted with it and blogged a lousy post.
"The descent of this hoary atmosphere must be for a reason," she thought to console herself. Her cell trilled. "The deadline is today," her colleague reminded her on the phone. She found a reason.


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