THE FALL
Thanks to Roja for suggesting the storyline and to Eljay for reminding me that my story should creatively destroy any efforts at romance ...
Ouch! I can't get up and my ankle hurts like hell! "Help me! Help me!" Priya screamed, hoping the policemen outside the front gate would hear her. But her feeble voice was barely audible. Slowly she managed to crawl towards the telephone table. But the table was too tall and she couldn't reach for the phone. She decided to tug at the wire. The phone crashed to the floor beside her. Fortunately, there was still a dial tone. It was working.
As Priya thankfully picked up the receiver and reached for the dial pad, it suddenly dawned on her that she could not remember a single phone number apart from her Anni's number in Coimbatore. It is pointless trying to reach Shanthi, who along with Indhu, must be airborne by now, she thought to herself. Mother and daughter were both heading for Delhi, where they were to connect with Karthik, who was on a brief holiday from his Kashmir post. She could have called the telephone operator to check for numbers but she knew Charu's personal lines were confidential. Arjun's number was not listed either. She vaguely recalled RK's number but she did not want to needlessly alarm an elderly couple.
Oh, darn! How the advent of the cell phone has spoiled us all, she thought. We programme all our numbers into the electronic address book and then blissfully forget them. Now, I can't remember a single number, Priya moaned.
But, throughout her agonizing effort to recall the phone numbers of those near to her, one number kept ringing in her mind – a number she had consciously tried to forget albeit unsuccessfully. That was a number she'd call at least once a day until some six months ago, a number she'd send SMS'es to several times a day, a number that gave her thrills every time it appeared on the caller id screen. A number she had made a special effort to memorise lest she forget. As she winced in pain, Priya knew she had no choice. She dialed. 93 9876 1234. [If anyone strikes a lottery, please remember to share the prize money with me ;-)]
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Durai had just parked his car and was about to go for his evening jog along the beach when his cell phone rang.
"Oh, darn! It must be HQ or JC hauling me back to the station on a Sunday for an assignment," he thought to himself as he picked up the phone with his characteristic frown.
The connection was bad. Crackling noises punctuated the muffled speech of the voice on the other end of the line. "Hello, can you speak up, please? I can't hear you; this is no time for games," Durai growled angrily.
"Help, help," this time he heard a faint voice that was distinctively familiar, a voice he heard in his dreams every single night. "Priya? Is that you, Priya? What's happening? Where are you?"
"I fell and hurt my ankle. I can't get up and there's no one to help," Priya cried.
"Oh, no! I'll be there soon, Priya. Don't worry. Keep talking." Revving up his engine, Durai continued, "I'll plug in my earpiece and I'm going to start driving in 30 seconds. Keep talking, Priya. Don't worry. You should be OK. I'll be there in 20 minutes and I'll take care of you. Don't cry. I'm with you every second."
Even as Durai tried to calm down Priya, he himself began to panic. As he raced through town, he busted a red light at one point. "Oh darn!" he exclaimed as he slammed his brakes belatedly and then hit full throttle. "Thank God! There's no traffic policeman around," he thought to himself as he continued speeding towards Shanthi's home.
Soon, Durai's car screeched to a halt in a cloud of dust outside Shanthi's home. He jumped out and barked at the policemen who stood at the temporary guard post. "What sort of watch duties are you doing? A person inside is struggling in pain and you don't hear a thing?"
"Sorry, Sir, but we …" Even before waiting for any explanation, Durai barged into Shanthi's house. "Priya, Priya!" he shouted and frantically looked for the damsel in distress.
Priya was grimacing in pain when she heard Durai call out to her. Her face lit up as she beheld him. Her knight had arrived. [The sonorous "Jaypadhu nijam" song plays in the background at this point as Durai strikes a majestic pose.] He was dressed in a bright red sleeveless jersey and white track pants. His powerful biceps more than made up for the lack of shining armour.
"Here, I am here," she called out to him weakly.
"Priya," Durai approached her, knelt beside her and caressed her hair as Priya broke into tears. "It's OK, Priya; I am here," said Durai. He gallantly swept her off the floor and carried her to the couch as Priya clung to him thankfully. [The cameras switch to ultra-slow motion at this point. Priya's luxuriant hair is blowing wildly in the wind even though it is an indoor scene.]
"Where does it hurt?" Durai asked as soon as he had set her on the couch. Priya pointed to her right ankle. Durai sat at the edge of the couch, lifted her right leg and placed it on his lap. As he began gently massaging her ankle, Priya shuddered. Her pulse quickened and her face was flushed.
"No, no … that's OK ... Er … I can manage …. It's not so painful now … " Priya was too embarrassed to say that Durai's mere touch had had a therapeutic effect and all that she now felt was immense pleasure rather than excrutiating pain.
She tried to draw away from him but Durai quickly pinned her down and stared straight into her eyes with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he began to run a finger gently around the contours of her lips.
Priya shut her eyes tightly. Suddenly she felt his day-old stubble grazing against her cheeks and quickly broke free from his grip. "Water, water. I need water," she gasped.
[Close-up shot of Durai at this point.] Durai sat up and ran his fingers through his hair as he heaved heavily for a few seconds. "Do you really want water, Priya? Or are you just trying to drive me away?" He picked up Priya's hands and fondled them.
"No, I really need water. Please, Durai, will you get me some? Please?" As Durai's hormone-charged eyes pierced into hers, Priya's affected plaintive look soon turned into a bashful smile.
"OK. I will do better than that. I will make us some tea," said Durai with a wink.
"Really? You're going to make tea?"
"Yes. I have been the chef at home since my parents abandoned me six months ago. And I make excellent masala tea," said Durai gloatingly.
"Wow! Two malasa teas, then." said Priya.
"Two masala teas coming up, Madam," said Durai. He tried to plant a kiss on Priya's cheeks on his way to the kitchen but she quickly covered her face in embarrassment.
Durai was gone five minutes and Priya began to wonder what was happening. "Durai? What's happening? Is everything under control?" she called out.
"I need to make sure I know where the kettle and spoons are, where the tea, sugar and milk are, where the spices are, where the where the mortar and pestle are, before I start. I am familiarizing myself with your kitch …. Aaarggh!!!"
There was a loud crash just as Durai screamed. "Durai! Durai! What happened?" cried Priya. She got up from the couch and slowly hobbled to the kitchen. There she saw Durai writhing in pain in a heap of pots and pans.
"Oh no!" screamed Priya and dragged herself to where Durai lay. As she tried to help him up, he pulled her down and locked her in a crushing embrace. "You! You cheat, you were play-acting!" she tried screaming but found Durai's lips pressing against hers. She tried to free herself but Durai was too powerful for her and she felt herself melting in his embrace.
Suddenly, Priya tried to break loose again and whispered. "I think there's someone coming …"
"Shut up, my dear," Durai laughed. "No more tricks." Just as Durai was about to kiss Priya, a booming voice shouted, "Stop! You're under arrest!"
Durai stumbled over the pots and pans as he tried to get up. Realising at that point that it was their assistant commissioner whom they had mistaken for some lecherous intruder, the policemen clumsily lowered their guns and started to apologise incoherently.
"Don't you guys know when you don't have to be so enthusiastic about your duty?" a red-faced Durai muttered beneath his breath.
Edited by Bonheur - 17 years ago
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