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Magix 'n' Curses
..the argument continues

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Dead End


I woke up with a start.

My abstinence from blogging (hmmm, if I've started using words like abstinence, I must be really addicted) has started giving me serious problems. It's almost like withdrawal symptoms. Quite like the ones I feel, when I start the day without my coffee and paper.

And after a very long time, I've had a nightmare. Not the ones with boogeymen and dark caves. The ones that make you think it's for real and you wake up sweating.

I'd dreamt that someone had hacked into my blogger id and made a totally crappy post. And horror of horrors! There were comments for it too!

Hrmph! If this qualifies as a nightmare, something is wrong with me. Admonishing myself for being silly, I curled right back in to sleep. Now where did those abstract, nonsensical, totally whacky dreams go?

I guess I had a dreamless sleep after that. Woke up feeling groggy. I stepped outta bed, only to sink right through the floor. I landed with a thud in what seemed like a scene take straight outta Ramayana. Replete with the totally cheesy sets I associate with it. The intricately designed carvings on papier-mache pillars decorated with plastic flowers. Silly looking four-legged pieces of furniture they call thrones. Steep steps leading up to the main throne, completely oblivious to the trouble an old king might have in climbing them. A couple of nubile bimbettes holding something that looked suspiciously like broomsticks.

I went upto them and asked them what it was. They didn't seem too perturbed by the fact that a handsome, attractive young man radiating sheer brilliance had materialised outta thin air (And in case you're wondering.. I was talking about me! :P) If anything, they looked like they'd been expecting me. Now that took me aback. My sincere statement that I wasn't interested was met with a rather scary glare. One of them said, "Maharaja is expecting you". I let them know I certainly was not interested!

As if on cue, the king made his entry. Damn! Did he look familiar! His height, his white french beard (yes, so an ancient Hindu king had a french beard. You have a problem with that?), his deep baritone voice... I was trying my best to place him. "Welcome Harish. I hope you know who I am", he enquired. Aaaah! It all clicked into place! "Amithabh Bachchan!", I replied, my eyes lighting up. He looked quite disappointed and drawled, "Afsos. Galath Jawab."

Raja Dasharatha, as he introduced himself, had summoned for my help. (Heyyy, whadya know. It WAS Ramayana, after all!) He had heard a lot about me and thought I was the best person to handle the situation.

Dasharatha: Listen. I need an heir to my throne. And I need your help.
Harish: Woaahh! Sorry dude! That's your problem! At the max, I can get you the contact number of a good doc.
D: Shut up and listen! I've made all the arrangements to get the job done myself.
H: Good on you! :)
D: *with a piercing stare that made me shut up for good* I was advised to perform the Aswamedha Yagna by sage Vasishta....

(To cut a rather lengthy dialogue short, here's the crux of the matter)
Though it was Vasishta's idea to perform the Aswamedha Yagna, the sage was in a rather playful mood. So he didn't give him all the err.. ingredients for yagna. He withheld a couple of ingredients and asked Dasharatha to find it himself. Dasharatha had guessed one of them (the horse, duh!) and had no clue about the other one. One of his ministers had also added to the confusion saying he had to perform a Putra Kamesti yagna, and not an Aswamedha Yagna. This had the king in tears. Vasishta understood the king's urgency for a son and decided to go easy on him. He told him that two yagnas weren't necessary and that he'd be blessed with son(s) if he found out that last ingredient. This was where he needed my help. He'd heard a lot about my quizzing exploits. I tried telling him it was my quiz partner who did all the answering while I just sat alongside fiddling with my cellphone. But he remained deaf-eared to my pleas. He wanted me to guess the last ingredient for him.
(ulp! the "crux of the matter" turned out longer than the dialogue!!)

6 PM was my deadline. At 5:30, it looked as if every citizen of the Kosala kingdom had assembled at the palace. Vasishta just stood there, with a bemused expression on his face. That was when Dhasharatha gave me the shocking news. It seemed the power to take me back to my world solely rested with Vasishta and he'd exercise it only if he got the answer.

This got me all panicky. I started blabbering stuff I've read in Harry Potter. "Bloomslang skin! Bicorn Horn. I wanna go home!" This went on for quite a while.

I decided to be more practical. This was a situation that demanded a cool head.
"A matchstick?"
"Oil?"
"Ghee?"
"Kerosene??"
A hint of desperation had crept into my voice now.

Vasishta just shook his head. He looked like he was enjoying this as I detected a glint of glee in his eye.

"You have one minute to go, boy. If you do not answer by six, I'm sorry, but you'd be stuck here forever."


What the... how unfair is that! They pull a guy out of his sleep for no fault of his, and subject him to this kinda torture.

"Holy Shit! Lemme go!"

* pooof *

I was back in my bed as Vasishta promised. Hehehe.. it was the varatti! :)

Epilogue:
Stuff in italics happened for real! And please, don't blame me if it makes no sense! :)
Jus' wanted to get it outta my system!