The month Starts. And like all Newly employed people, Its time to be king for next 5 days atleast. This is the time when all those dreams that you had seen as a kid have a chance to materialize.
Every middle class kid i think has gone through the phase. When he has tried to put his finger on something really unwanted and has been dutifully told by his parents that "grow up, get a job and you can have that". The problem is most of the kids forget. As they get the sense to earn, they also get some sense on how to spend.But there were two kids who remembered an item on their huge shopping list that was stashed some where in the corner of their minds. Its really hard to remember such a thing, or to have guts to spend your hard earned money on such avenues when there are more noteworthy and grown up things to buy. The item in consideration was a Punching Bag. The wish had been so long buried that there were tonnes of memories on it, and nothing could have dug them out except one night at a place called "The Sports Bar".
The day had been rough on one of the kids. His boss had been pretty particular that day and the day had been spent on the receiving end.So in the evening when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a punching bag, he couldn't resist and vented all his fury and anger on the Bag. The feeling was nothing short of being ecstasic, and the usefullness of the Bag was noted in the Adult mind. The memories were dug out in a night of nursing the sore arms.
Sprinkle this with a night spent watching RockyI to IV, and the Punching Bag became something that was impossible to live without. Now the question remained that how to convince the other kid? This was pretty hard to do. But when the utility of the Bag as an aesthetic tool hanging from the drawing room ceiling in a all guys flat was introduced, the going became easy. Besides the usefullness of the bag in health building context really made the day. After exchanging points and counterpoints the kids sealed the deal on spit, and the Bag was as good as in.
What was left to be seen was When, How and How much. So after pondering, juggling calendars a sunday was fixed, when both of them would go to some shop which was found after calling some knowledgable friends.
The sunday came and the kids took an auto. After much sightseeing in the traditional mumbai auto the reached the shop on the main road in Andheri. Since along with the Bag some weights were also to be bought first the focus was on the wieghts. But it looked like the weights which had to be bought were not much of an addition to the shop's visual merchandising, and therefore the bloke had hidden it away in a "warehouse" on the other side of the main road. Any one who has been to mumbai will definitely agree that crossing a main road is something that is not to be taken lightely.
And this was really a main road, with proper concrete dividers. As if this was not enough, the muncipallty people had strung barbed wires on wooden poles. Any one capable of effortlessly crossing the road here could as well have been shipped off to fight the pakis.
But the requriement was grave and what has to be done has to be done. So some how the road was crossed, with few drivers muttering obscenities and a hint or two of raised middle fingers.But hey, who cares, and in doing important things one must not care what people say.
The warehouse turned out to be a small garage kind of shed with heavy locks and bolts that would even keep the air out, let alone a thief. The kids waited outside the door with curiosity, because if something is that well protected, it must indeed be worth seeing. The heavy small doors opened after the sales boy put in his weight on the handles, and a small room filled with dusty wrecked tables with all sorts of junk was revealed. Weights were checked out and then piled up. But some of the enthusiasm had returned in the kids as they picked the weights and turned to cross the road.
The crossing this time was uneventful, as rarely do people with glass windshields throw obscene gestures with three guys walking with dumb bels and all. So the cars on the roads slowed down with grace allowing the guys to cross.
Now was the turn to see the punching bag. The sales person disappeared into the side door and came out with the bag. The bag which was worth all the wait since the childhood days and which was worht every effort put in the moment that led to here. All the effort that went in to crossing the road which seemed like indo-pak border in the west was going to be rewarded. The bad came out of the plastic sheet and the kids' faces fell. It was a canvas bag of just 2 feet height. That looked pretty small. Now who buys such a bag?? Their wishes might have been kiddish, but they were not. And it was THE PUNCHING BAG. The BAG which was to add some dignity to their apartment. Which was supposed to complement their soon to be tough bodies and the weights that were going to be displayed alongside.
The kid let out a tired breath. All the effort had been wasted. Now they will have to start the process again. They will have to look for more sports shops. This one itself had been hard to find. BUt the other kid didn't let it go that easily."Do you have any other bag?" he asked. The owner came out with a real cool 3 feet long leather bag. But the price Tag blew out the wind. 4000 bucks. Now this leather bag was really cool and all was agreed. But at 4000 bucks the dream was turning out to be on the expensive side. And after all the bag was not some trendy samsonite college bag or something of that sorts. It was just a punching bag, Isn't it. Besides the kid who had been neglecting his hunger in all this exitement was feeling the pangs at double the intensity.
The mood was sour. They had spent some one and a half hour. The kid was hungry and they didn't have 4k to spend on some damn leather bag. The owner suggested the solution. A canvas bag in larger size and lower price filled with sawdust could be arranged, but on the next day. What could be done. The other kid handed over his card for the weights they had bought. The shop owner's bald father took over from there.
The kid was feeling really pissed. They had spent too much time, and he was really hungry. The patience meter was going down. Besides the hawk eyed father was working even slower. Even a fly entering the shop seemed to distract his attention, and then, the card swipe machine just did it. The card refused to be acknowledged. The machine showed transaction error.
The kid asked the hawk to hurry. And the hawk instead of hurrying, just snapped its beak at the kid. The kid was getting furious by the minute, and the hawk was just working as slowly as he could. And the moment the hawk in his defiant tome said "behave like a kid if you want to be loved or else" the damage was done. The kid noted it down in his small mental diary.
With furiously pissed mood he came out of the shop carrying the weights they had bought. The other kid meanwhile had paid and was carrying the other set of weights. The shopkeeper had promissed to keep the Punching bag ready the next evening, but the hawk had done the damage. The kid just wanted to get back at him. He was really sore.
Two days went by, and it was tuesday evening before they could again think of going that way. Again after a circutious route which was different from the one previous auto had taken, they reached the shop. But this time there seemed to be a few people inside the small shop and it looked crowded.
After some waiting the shopkeeper brought out the punching bag. The scene resembled very much like the movie scenes where the boy and his parents visit the bride's house to approve her. Both the kids were busy in the shop, looking at things, trying to get interested in something, while anxious at the same time. The shop keeper brings the bag out. They both turn, and there is the bag in front of them, just lying there. The decision to buy it was instantly taken. But the bag seemed to be a bit less filled. So it was agreed upon that the kids will take the bag while the extra sawdust will be delivered to their home. The bag was put near the door.
But you can't just rain blows on a canvas bags. You need gloves too. As the bag's price was within a grand, some money could definitely be utilized in that. The boxing gloves incidently were from a company called Hawk and were priced at 700 rupees. Just think of that, you need to spend as much on the gloves as you need to spend on the Bag. Now spending on the bag was Okay. The Bag had significance, but here gloves were just extra expenses which hadn't been previously accounted for. But still, here a wish was at stake.Had the reason been something else, the gloves could have been left behind. But who tries to save money when a wish is being fulfilled and you can pay for it, you have the money and you can pay for it.The greater cause has to be achieved. Dreams were t stake here and So they were taken.
Suddenly the crowd seemed to have increased a bit. The shopkeeper went on to bill the kids, while the hawk father was busy looking at something, while the rest of the sales people were trying to make sale to customers.
The shopkeeper came out with the bill of 1400rs, which was paid for.
The other kid realized the mistake."Hey dude, he hasn't billed us for the Punching Bag." he said. The kid just thought that may be he isn't delivering the bag today and will be delivering the bag with the sawdust at their house the next day. After all they had spent three grand at the shop, and so a door delivery was something that the shop could definetly do.
But it didn't make sense. The hawk would definitely have billed the bag before sending it. As shrewd as he seemed, he would definitely be the one who would secure his investment.
So the other possibility kicked in. That simply meant that he had forgotten to bill them the only thing for which they were there. He had done the collateral damage to their pockets by the gloves and accessories, but the real damage had been spared. He had simply forgotten. But the kid realized that he might be wrong and so it had to be checked out. The Bag was waiting for them near the door, neatly propped. Everything had been packed and no one was paying attention. But still if the owner remembered at the exact time, there would be problem.
The other kid opened the glass door, not sure whether to take the bag or not. The kid followed him. And as happens in all the stories with happy ending, the good beat the evil. Just as happens and has been said in the movie "harold and kumar go to whitecastle", If something has to happen,The whole universe conspires to make it happen.
As the kids were about to move out, one lady started demanding things in her high pitch voice commanding the hawk's attention.A young and enthusiastic shop helper, bred on the idea that customer is the king, and not the thief stepped in to help them.Without saying a word, he promptly lifted the Punching bag on his able shoulders and followed the kids out of the door.
On the same main road the kid took the bag on his own shoulders, somehow suppresing his smile in front of the shop help who turned back after some distance. The other kid by that time had an ear to ear smile. The long awaited punching bag was on their shoulders, their feet were moving as fast as they could. No one could tell if they were running, or leaping or plain simply floating. But all that could be told is that they crossed the road without even feeling it in to the waiting auto.
The Punching bag is still hanging from the ceiling in our drawing room. Rahul still has an ear to ear smile, and no we don't intend to pay.
Every middle class kid i think has gone through the phase. When he has tried to put his finger on something really unwanted and has been dutifully told by his parents that "grow up, get a job and you can have that". The problem is most of the kids forget. As they get the sense to earn, they also get some sense on how to spend.But there were two kids who remembered an item on their huge shopping list that was stashed some where in the corner of their minds. Its really hard to remember such a thing, or to have guts to spend your hard earned money on such avenues when there are more noteworthy and grown up things to buy. The item in consideration was a Punching Bag. The wish had been so long buried that there were tonnes of memories on it, and nothing could have dug them out except one night at a place called "The Sports Bar".
The day had been rough on one of the kids. His boss had been pretty particular that day and the day had been spent on the receiving end.So in the evening when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a punching bag, he couldn't resist and vented all his fury and anger on the Bag. The feeling was nothing short of being ecstasic, and the usefullness of the Bag was noted in the Adult mind. The memories were dug out in a night of nursing the sore arms.
Sprinkle this with a night spent watching RockyI to IV, and the Punching Bag became something that was impossible to live without. Now the question remained that how to convince the other kid? This was pretty hard to do. But when the utility of the Bag as an aesthetic tool hanging from the drawing room ceiling in a all guys flat was introduced, the going became easy. Besides the usefullness of the bag in health building context really made the day. After exchanging points and counterpoints the kids sealed the deal on spit, and the Bag was as good as in.
What was left to be seen was When, How and How much. So after pondering, juggling calendars a sunday was fixed, when both of them would go to some shop which was found after calling some knowledgable friends.
The sunday came and the kids took an auto. After much sightseeing in the traditional mumbai auto the reached the shop on the main road in Andheri. Since along with the Bag some weights were also to be bought first the focus was on the wieghts. But it looked like the weights which had to be bought were not much of an addition to the shop's visual merchandising, and therefore the bloke had hidden it away in a "warehouse" on the other side of the main road. Any one who has been to mumbai will definitely agree that crossing a main road is something that is not to be taken lightely.
And this was really a main road, with proper concrete dividers. As if this was not enough, the muncipallty people had strung barbed wires on wooden poles. Any one capable of effortlessly crossing the road here could as well have been shipped off to fight the pakis.
But the requriement was grave and what has to be done has to be done. So some how the road was crossed, with few drivers muttering obscenities and a hint or two of raised middle fingers.But hey, who cares, and in doing important things one must not care what people say.
The warehouse turned out to be a small garage kind of shed with heavy locks and bolts that would even keep the air out, let alone a thief. The kids waited outside the door with curiosity, because if something is that well protected, it must indeed be worth seeing. The heavy small doors opened after the sales boy put in his weight on the handles, and a small room filled with dusty wrecked tables with all sorts of junk was revealed. Weights were checked out and then piled up. But some of the enthusiasm had returned in the kids as they picked the weights and turned to cross the road.
The crossing this time was uneventful, as rarely do people with glass windshields throw obscene gestures with three guys walking with dumb bels and all. So the cars on the roads slowed down with grace allowing the guys to cross.
Now was the turn to see the punching bag. The sales person disappeared into the side door and came out with the bag. The bag which was worth all the wait since the childhood days and which was worht every effort put in the moment that led to here. All the effort that went in to crossing the road which seemed like indo-pak border in the west was going to be rewarded. The bad came out of the plastic sheet and the kids' faces fell. It was a canvas bag of just 2 feet height. That looked pretty small. Now who buys such a bag?? Their wishes might have been kiddish, but they were not. And it was THE PUNCHING BAG. The BAG which was to add some dignity to their apartment. Which was supposed to complement their soon to be tough bodies and the weights that were going to be displayed alongside.
The kid let out a tired breath. All the effort had been wasted. Now they will have to start the process again. They will have to look for more sports shops. This one itself had been hard to find. BUt the other kid didn't let it go that easily."Do you have any other bag?" he asked. The owner came out with a real cool 3 feet long leather bag. But the price Tag blew out the wind. 4000 bucks. Now this leather bag was really cool and all was agreed. But at 4000 bucks the dream was turning out to be on the expensive side. And after all the bag was not some trendy samsonite college bag or something of that sorts. It was just a punching bag, Isn't it. Besides the kid who had been neglecting his hunger in all this exitement was feeling the pangs at double the intensity.
The mood was sour. They had spent some one and a half hour. The kid was hungry and they didn't have 4k to spend on some damn leather bag. The owner suggested the solution. A canvas bag in larger size and lower price filled with sawdust could be arranged, but on the next day. What could be done. The other kid handed over his card for the weights they had bought. The shop owner's bald father took over from there.
The kid was feeling really pissed. They had spent too much time, and he was really hungry. The patience meter was going down. Besides the hawk eyed father was working even slower. Even a fly entering the shop seemed to distract his attention, and then, the card swipe machine just did it. The card refused to be acknowledged. The machine showed transaction error.
The kid asked the hawk to hurry. And the hawk instead of hurrying, just snapped its beak at the kid. The kid was getting furious by the minute, and the hawk was just working as slowly as he could. And the moment the hawk in his defiant tome said "behave like a kid if you want to be loved or else" the damage was done. The kid noted it down in his small mental diary.
With furiously pissed mood he came out of the shop carrying the weights they had bought. The other kid meanwhile had paid and was carrying the other set of weights. The shopkeeper had promissed to keep the Punching bag ready the next evening, but the hawk had done the damage. The kid just wanted to get back at him. He was really sore.
Two days went by, and it was tuesday evening before they could again think of going that way. Again after a circutious route which was different from the one previous auto had taken, they reached the shop. But this time there seemed to be a few people inside the small shop and it looked crowded.
After some waiting the shopkeeper brought out the punching bag. The scene resembled very much like the movie scenes where the boy and his parents visit the bride's house to approve her. Both the kids were busy in the shop, looking at things, trying to get interested in something, while anxious at the same time. The shop keeper brings the bag out. They both turn, and there is the bag in front of them, just lying there. The decision to buy it was instantly taken. But the bag seemed to be a bit less filled. So it was agreed upon that the kids will take the bag while the extra sawdust will be delivered to their home. The bag was put near the door.
But you can't just rain blows on a canvas bags. You need gloves too. As the bag's price was within a grand, some money could definitely be utilized in that. The boxing gloves incidently were from a company called Hawk and were priced at 700 rupees. Just think of that, you need to spend as much on the gloves as you need to spend on the Bag. Now spending on the bag was Okay. The Bag had significance, but here gloves were just extra expenses which hadn't been previously accounted for. But still, here a wish was at stake.Had the reason been something else, the gloves could have been left behind. But who tries to save money when a wish is being fulfilled and you can pay for it, you have the money and you can pay for it.The greater cause has to be achieved. Dreams were t stake here and So they were taken.
Suddenly the crowd seemed to have increased a bit. The shopkeeper went on to bill the kids, while the hawk father was busy looking at something, while the rest of the sales people were trying to make sale to customers.
The shopkeeper came out with the bill of 1400rs, which was paid for.
The other kid realized the mistake."Hey dude, he hasn't billed us for the Punching Bag." he said. The kid just thought that may be he isn't delivering the bag today and will be delivering the bag with the sawdust at their house the next day. After all they had spent three grand at the shop, and so a door delivery was something that the shop could definetly do.
But it didn't make sense. The hawk would definitely have billed the bag before sending it. As shrewd as he seemed, he would definitely be the one who would secure his investment.
So the other possibility kicked in. That simply meant that he had forgotten to bill them the only thing for which they were there. He had done the collateral damage to their pockets by the gloves and accessories, but the real damage had been spared. He had simply forgotten. But the kid realized that he might be wrong and so it had to be checked out. The Bag was waiting for them near the door, neatly propped. Everything had been packed and no one was paying attention. But still if the owner remembered at the exact time, there would be problem.
The other kid opened the glass door, not sure whether to take the bag or not. The kid followed him. And as happens in all the stories with happy ending, the good beat the evil. Just as happens and has been said in the movie "harold and kumar go to whitecastle", If something has to happen,The whole universe conspires to make it happen.
As the kids were about to move out, one lady started demanding things in her high pitch voice commanding the hawk's attention.A young and enthusiastic shop helper, bred on the idea that customer is the king, and not the thief stepped in to help them.Without saying a word, he promptly lifted the Punching bag on his able shoulders and followed the kids out of the door.
On the same main road the kid took the bag on his own shoulders, somehow suppresing his smile in front of the shop help who turned back after some distance. The other kid by that time had an ear to ear smile. The long awaited punching bag was on their shoulders, their feet were moving as fast as they could. No one could tell if they were running, or leaping or plain simply floating. But all that could be told is that they crossed the road without even feeling it in to the waiting auto.
The Punching bag is still hanging from the ceiling in our drawing room. Rahul still has an ear to ear smile, and no we don't intend to pay.
6 comments:
your story is long, and so shall my comment be. first the kid in me was furious, you write like i do. then i got confused, do you sound like me or do i sound like you. and the kid couldn't decide so the adult stepped in to placate the kid. well, we are all kids so we all sound alike. "but still he sounds like something i would say" demamded the kid. any ways, i am ok now, and the humble adult just compliments on your writing style and you really do sound like every kid. and then i am not much for happy endings, neither the adult nor the kid, but this one was fun. glory is great. oh by the way, i don't think you noticed this but one of your typos actually ironically sets the mood for the story. "The bad came out of the plastic sheet and the kids' faces fell. It was a canvas bag of just 2 feet height. That looked pretty small." its is all bad in that threee feet isn't it. but bad is quite glorious sometimes.
ha..ha..ha....thanks for the comments. On the furiousness i will have to say that i am may be subconciously trying to imitate to chetan bhagat, wodehouse, and hemingway(or is it O. henry??). Chetan bhagat on the kind of humor, wodehouse on the language, and hemingway on the theme of stories. But then again, somewhere my own inabilities kick in and make a mess. But this was a postmortem analysis. I didn't realize this before i started writing, but only when i read it again. So i will have to put in some effort. As far as the typo is concerned, i will make it clear. ALL my posts are spontaneous and unedited written in a single go. So this story was also written in a single sitting. I realized my mistakes after i reread them, but then why be perfect.
I am looking for an editor and a publisher BTW(lol)
(BTW its just my inference, and i donot say that i am writng in their style...but just...its along those lines...so plz don't take me wrong...)
hahaha... super! was smiling all the way. I'm glad the kids finally fulfilled one of your childhood wishes... and that too with a bonus! ;)I'm sure the hawk must be going crazy by now. but then he sure asked for it.
So now there's a punching bag in the middle of your living room! cool thing! you know as a kid i always had one of those punch me thingies.. you can keep punching them and kicking them and they keep standing up again and asking for more :D... i soo wish i had one again!
and yup.. i need to comment on yr comment... hemingway???? no ways!!! o.henry it is... you know.. the bland...cynical... seemingly devoid of emotions... but actually based on them.
I particularly love the way you ended it...
the punching bag comes to your rescue... whenever someone is trying to spoil yr day or mood.. just laugh at him... show him a bug grin.. coz the punching bag is gonna absorb all yr frustration and make you feel better... while the other person will remain miserable!
keep making rain!
love ya always
Devil's own
oops... i made a typo!!
I'm glad the kids finally fulfilled one of *'their' childhood wishes
But they did take ur address rt? to deliver the extra sawdust? So, the hawk did not ever find out the mistake he made? Nice accounting he must be doing there :D Good for you though!
Awesome post, brings a happy ending by giving a more meaningful characterization. Would have made a nice story too, but somehow, a personal account attaches more sense :)
Read ur blog and donno why but felt like reading the whole of it, that too on a high priority basis. Ok, enuf talking, i betta catch up on reading, there loads of it, rt?
hmmmm....Devil's own..
Hemingway is not known for his short stories. He is rather known for his books like "farewell to arms" which was semi autobiographical and he wrote it at an age of 27.
He recieved nobel for for his story 'the old man and his sea' which you have probably read.
But his talent for short stories was recognized after he wrote "the killers".(I couldn't find the link to the text or i would have posted it here, but i have read the story online)
Its a series of hemingway stories called "the nick adams" stories. Here none of the characters(or few) are named.
I dunno if you noticed that none of the characters in my story have a name. its in the last line that the names have been revealed. While the way the story moves is definitely O henry(the anthem, the mammon and the archer).
Rohit: I see that you really are observant.Yeah, they did take our address for the sawdust, and all the while in the auto we were thinking what should we do about it. Actually our building has 3 wings with same flat number. But unfortunately on that singular occasion i had the misfortune of giving him the exact address right down to the land mark. Initially we thought that we will bribe the guards, so they won't allow any one in. But then later we thought that it would be better if we would just call the hawk and yell at him saying that when is he going to deliver the 'bag'. But none of it turned out to be necessary as the hawk i think still hasn't realized
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