The crooked moon

A birthday is a cause to celebrate for many. I clap along and sing the song and watch my poor colleague getting the ‘treatment’. A celebratory lunch followed. There’s prawns. And beer. For the few who don’t already know it, beer doesn’t go well with prawns. The conflicting tastes war it out on my tongue long after we get back to work.

As the evening approaches and my brain starts cracking under the strain of logic, I find my friend standing behind me. He has been through a lot lately. He wants a smoke and a patient ear. Matters of the heart are something God didn’t equip us to handle efficiently. We go to the smoking room and light up. The cigarette break does not really help. We decide to call it a day.

I drop him off at his place and drive back at a leisurely pace. Her eyes … the mind meanders when you take the oft-trodden road. ….. BAM, 10 yr old kid, right in front of my car. My feet hit the brakes. The car screeches to a stop. The front bumper touches the kid’s knees, but doesn’t injure him. He takes a few steps backwards, and unceremoniously wets his pants. The mother who is taking groceries out of her car drops a few bags. A second or two passes, I am immobile. The kid looks like a bird that hit a window pane, a dazed look, with the comprehension of a close call and the possibility of a stern rebuke from mom just dawning on him. An ice-cream truck man has stopped dead in his tracks. I ease the car back into motion and drive away.

A split second delay in reaction and I would have been looking at blood on my hands and a longish jail term. Courts in India aren’t fair. Though I doubt any kind of life, inside or outside a cell, will be worth living with the knowledge that you killed an innocent, albeit careless, kid. Parents don’t teach their kids how to cross roads anymore. I drive back to my office. There are promises to keep.

I have dinner at office, crunch some more logic out of my brain, encode it, and for the second time, call it a day. Its past midnight and I am driving back along a narrow lane adjacent to a highway. Its been a long and tiring day. Would have been nice if I could have seen her eyes once today … the mind strays when you are a regular on some road. 3 cars pass by me at high speed, I am tired and driving slow. A fourth car starts to overtake me. I see its high beam closing up on me in the rear view mirror. I am 22. Youth kicks in at unexpected moments. I keep accelerating. The car doesn’t give up. The speedometer says I am doing 90 kmph !! … on a narrow road . There’s an intersection 100 metres ahead. I let go of the accelerator and ease back. As the car passes me, I could feel a drunken victorious grin burning through 2 pairs of tinted windows and the night’s darkness. You ask how can I be so sure ? The car has a Haryana license plate. You still ask why ? You are evidently not from India and don’t know of India’s stereotypes. On second thoughts …. you are better off without them: stereotypes are mean. The moment’s over. I feel waves of exhaustion hit me. My mind wanders back to her eyes …. at the same time I notice that I am at the intersection, yet the other car still hasn’t slowed down. There’s a bright flash of light, and flying debris hits my windshield.

The car has crashed right into a concrete divider at the intersection. I slow my car down further. The driver staggers out and inspects the car that has swerved into the middle of the highway. The front axle is broken. I don’t know about internal injuries, but the guy is lucky to be standing on his feet after a 90 kmph crash. I ease my car back into a steady speed.

The moon is shining bright today. Big and crooked. The craters seem to form an angry face. The death god wouldn’t be happy if someone narrowly sidesteps his devious machinations and refuses to be his executioner. Or maybe its my guardian angel’s way of telling me to not let young years be the excuse for … well a lot of things. I feel a shiver run down my spine. My stiff drink is over. For the ‘third’ time, I decide its better to call it a day (night). As I ease into my bed, my mind is back on the eyes … and there’s a funny feeling in my stomach …

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