Chapter # 3 (Tyaga n Arjun)
[CLICK HERE -> for CHAPTER 1 and CHAPTER 2 ]
Location: Thar Desert, Rajasthan, India. [26.92° N 70.5° E]
Status: Indian Territory
Time: 02:46hrs Date : NOV-7-2006
Siddarth awoke with a start. The low rumble of his stomach made him realize that he was hungry. He sat up in his tent, searching for his glasses and the water bottle he remembered putting somewhere nearby. His hands reached beyond his sleeping bag trailing over the cold desert sand until he found the water bottle. Sipping the water, he walked out of his tent into the moonlit desert-scape. Around him two other similar tents lay in silence. He mentally cursed himself for coming on this trip with the 'B' wing guys. It had been total chaos from the start. Only after a long drive into the desert for the camping trip they realized that no one had brought the food meant for the trip from the hostel. Thankfully, they had had some beer and snacks, which had kept them going for sometime.
Siddarth looked at the luminous reading on his watch. 15 minutes to 3 AM. He stood there savoring the clear and chilly night. Wiping his glasses, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it and sat on small rock that lay nearby. Several miles ahead lay the city that had been his home for the last 3 years and 7 months. Calling it a city was an overstatement in itself. It was a nondescript little town, which had nothing of importance except perhaps the only thing he and the others here had come for – a highly reputed engineering college. Hailing from Chennai, he had traveled across the country for this.
Siddharth took a deep drag on his cigarette. He blamed it on the academic rigor. Others just called him a 'nerd' – a reference that had gained a near 100% acceptance. After spending 3 complete years burying his head into textbooks and worrying about grades slipping by a hundredth, something snapped. Tired of it all, he decided that he was going to take life by the scruff of its neck. The trip was his first with these guys and was already turning out to be a bad idea. First they had forgotten the food, then he had puked before the bon fire after just a beer and now he was hungry. Feeling frustrated and angry he took another puff savoring the warmth against the chilly desert air.
Halfway thro his tobacco cylinder, he paused. He heard a deep growling to his right from the sky. 'Oh great, Now thunder showers', he thought. It was an extremely rare event that too, in this part of this country. However these weren't the clouds rumbling. He was pretty sure of that. It was growing louder by the minute and beginning to sound more mechanical. Curious, he stood up, walking towards the SUV and went around it. He scanned the night sky for the source of the sound that had become a deep roar. Whatever it was, it was big, and close. Still nothing was visible. Lighting another cigarette he rushed toward the nearby dune to get a clear view over the area. It was a deep whine now – completely mechanical. An engine – he was sure of that. He felt the familiar adrenaline rush that he felt whenever he heard the deep roar of engines – a fetish that had driven him toward mechanical engineering. As he climbed up the dune, he tried to figure out the source, just like he always did playing back the digitized engine roars on his computer. He had a library of thousands of digitized noises right from a TVS 50 to an F1 V12 engine to a thrust vector controlled twin turbo advanced Jet engine. But this was one sound he had never heard before. The noise had just got deafening.
As he reached the top of the dune, he spotted a flash of light far to his right but it was not clear. As he stood there with his hand over his eyes trying hard to focus into the night sky thro his glasses, the light source grew big in size and so did the noise.
Then it happened. Out of nowhere, a big black bird of steel swooped down into the desert about 300 metres before him. Siddharth watched the giant craft hit the smooth desert floor kicking up a huge wall of weathered desert sand up into the air like the high-crest waves of the ocean. Screeching and skidding, the craft dragged through the heavy sand leaving a huge trail of ashes until it finally came to rest. Siddarth stood there open mouthed - his cigarette blown into the wind – shocked and not believing what he was seeing. A Su-47 Berkut had crashed right in front of his eyes. It stood there, the dark beast with flames spurting around.
Siddharth would never know what made him move towards that black silent bird with such haste – but he did. As he breathlessly reached the craft, he heard the other guys running up towards him. The sound had woken them up. More proof that it was all real. He slowed down as he neared the still bird. The only sounds were that of a small electronic whine from inside. Then the cockpit door slid back and the dark silhouette of the pilot stumbled out. He took a couple of staggering steps towards them before collapsing into the sand.
The boys acted swiftly. The flames were beginning to gather momentum and soon the whole thing would blow up. As siddharth walked away from the plane, pulling the unconscious form of its pilot, a huge burst of flame spread across the flying machine. He stopped as if mesmerized. There in the light of those flames he saw before his eyes one of the most advanced fighter jets he had ever seen in his life. It was mean, sleek and deadly. More shockingly as the tail was illuminated he saw the three big letters emblazoned on it: IAF. Then it blew. Siddharth thought that it sounded like a small nuclear explosion........
......The boys managed to carry the unconscious pilot to the tent. In the light they got a good look at the man they had helped. He was dressed in Indian Commando fatigues. And stitched over on the right side on his chest were the words 'THE HAWK'. His shoulder was bleeding and a dried up streak of blood stretched from his mouth plus there were bullet wounds on his right thigh. And his left hand held something - a device which looked like a miniature hard drive. The 8 boys stood there staring at the man who had dropped from the sky, unsure of what to do, and frightened by the surreal nature of what was happening. Around them, the night sky over the Great Indian desert was clear and silent as it had been and the flames had begun to die on the crashed bird. Little did they realize the dangers they were going to face over the course of the next two days…..
At the same time, down south in God’s Own Country, a small fishing boat came into the fishing docks. The boat was moving slowly towards the small town of Parassala near Tirvananthapuram. Vallathol Narayanan, the docks watchman ever since it was built looked at the boat, scratching his head. The Motorboat spluttered and stopped near the artificial stretch of land built to host the tiny lighthouse for the town. No fishing boat comes in at 3 AM in the morning. Curiosity piqued Narayanan. He took a sip from his Brandy bottle, tied his scarf on his head and marched out to the Lighthouse to see what was wrong. He reached the lighthouse and flashed his dirty-yellow flashlight on the boat. The boat was empty. He walked into the water and reached the boat and climbed in.
Finding the cabin door ajar, he went in and flashed the light into the storage door on the floor. His eyes could see someone’s legs. Taking another sip from his Brandy bottle, he climbed down the stairs into the storage area. Halfway thro the stairs he stopped, frozen with fear. There lay in front of him two human corpses – rigged with bullet holes all over. He took a step back and turned fast to get out of the boat. A shovel came from nowhere and hit Narayanan’s head sending him headlong into the bottom of the boat. THE HOUND we saw driving the army SUV in the Island, climbed down the stairs to finish his job. THE HOUND never leaves anything incomplete… except for THE HAWK.
Location: Thar Desert, Rajasthan, India. [26.92° N 70.5° E]
Status: Indian Territory
Time: 02:46hrs Date : NOV-7-2006
Siddarth awoke with a start. The low rumble of his stomach made him realize that he was hungry. He sat up in his tent, searching for his glasses and the water bottle he remembered putting somewhere nearby. His hands reached beyond his sleeping bag trailing over the cold desert sand until he found the water bottle. Sipping the water, he walked out of his tent into the moonlit desert-scape. Around him two other similar tents lay in silence. He mentally cursed himself for coming on this trip with the 'B' wing guys. It had been total chaos from the start. Only after a long drive into the desert for the camping trip they realized that no one had brought the food meant for the trip from the hostel. Thankfully, they had had some beer and snacks, which had kept them going for sometime.
Siddarth looked at the luminous reading on his watch. 15 minutes to 3 AM. He stood there savoring the clear and chilly night. Wiping his glasses, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it and sat on small rock that lay nearby. Several miles ahead lay the city that had been his home for the last 3 years and 7 months. Calling it a city was an overstatement in itself. It was a nondescript little town, which had nothing of importance except perhaps the only thing he and the others here had come for – a highly reputed engineering college. Hailing from Chennai, he had traveled across the country for this.
Siddharth took a deep drag on his cigarette. He blamed it on the academic rigor. Others just called him a 'nerd' – a reference that had gained a near 100% acceptance. After spending 3 complete years burying his head into textbooks and worrying about grades slipping by a hundredth, something snapped. Tired of it all, he decided that he was going to take life by the scruff of its neck. The trip was his first with these guys and was already turning out to be a bad idea. First they had forgotten the food, then he had puked before the bon fire after just a beer and now he was hungry. Feeling frustrated and angry he took another puff savoring the warmth against the chilly desert air.
Halfway thro his tobacco cylinder, he paused. He heard a deep growling to his right from the sky. 'Oh great, Now thunder showers', he thought. It was an extremely rare event that too, in this part of this country. However these weren't the clouds rumbling. He was pretty sure of that. It was growing louder by the minute and beginning to sound more mechanical. Curious, he stood up, walking towards the SUV and went around it. He scanned the night sky for the source of the sound that had become a deep roar. Whatever it was, it was big, and close. Still nothing was visible. Lighting another cigarette he rushed toward the nearby dune to get a clear view over the area. It was a deep whine now – completely mechanical. An engine – he was sure of that. He felt the familiar adrenaline rush that he felt whenever he heard the deep roar of engines – a fetish that had driven him toward mechanical engineering. As he climbed up the dune, he tried to figure out the source, just like he always did playing back the digitized engine roars on his computer. He had a library of thousands of digitized noises right from a TVS 50 to an F1 V12 engine to a thrust vector controlled twin turbo advanced Jet engine. But this was one sound he had never heard before. The noise had just got deafening.
As he reached the top of the dune, he spotted a flash of light far to his right but it was not clear. As he stood there with his hand over his eyes trying hard to focus into the night sky thro his glasses, the light source grew big in size and so did the noise.
Then it happened. Out of nowhere, a big black bird of steel swooped down into the desert about 300 metres before him. Siddharth watched the giant craft hit the smooth desert floor kicking up a huge wall of weathered desert sand up into the air like the high-crest waves of the ocean. Screeching and skidding, the craft dragged through the heavy sand leaving a huge trail of ashes until it finally came to rest. Siddarth stood there open mouthed - his cigarette blown into the wind – shocked and not believing what he was seeing. A Su-47 Berkut had crashed right in front of his eyes. It stood there, the dark beast with flames spurting around.
Siddharth would never know what made him move towards that black silent bird with such haste – but he did. As he breathlessly reached the craft, he heard the other guys running up towards him. The sound had woken them up. More proof that it was all real. He slowed down as he neared the still bird. The only sounds were that of a small electronic whine from inside. Then the cockpit door slid back and the dark silhouette of the pilot stumbled out. He took a couple of staggering steps towards them before collapsing into the sand.
The boys acted swiftly. The flames were beginning to gather momentum and soon the whole thing would blow up. As siddharth walked away from the plane, pulling the unconscious form of its pilot, a huge burst of flame spread across the flying machine. He stopped as if mesmerized. There in the light of those flames he saw before his eyes one of the most advanced fighter jets he had ever seen in his life. It was mean, sleek and deadly. More shockingly as the tail was illuminated he saw the three big letters emblazoned on it: IAF. Then it blew. Siddharth thought that it sounded like a small nuclear explosion........
......The boys managed to carry the unconscious pilot to the tent. In the light they got a good look at the man they had helped. He was dressed in Indian Commando fatigues. And stitched over on the right side on his chest were the words 'THE HAWK'. His shoulder was bleeding and a dried up streak of blood stretched from his mouth plus there were bullet wounds on his right thigh. And his left hand held something - a device which looked like a miniature hard drive. The 8 boys stood there staring at the man who had dropped from the sky, unsure of what to do, and frightened by the surreal nature of what was happening. Around them, the night sky over the Great Indian desert was clear and silent as it had been and the flames had begun to die on the crashed bird. Little did they realize the dangers they were going to face over the course of the next two days…..
At the same time, down south in God’s Own Country, a small fishing boat came into the fishing docks. The boat was moving slowly towards the small town of Parassala near Tirvananthapuram. Vallathol Narayanan, the docks watchman ever since it was built looked at the boat, scratching his head. The Motorboat spluttered and stopped near the artificial stretch of land built to host the tiny lighthouse for the town. No fishing boat comes in at 3 AM in the morning. Curiosity piqued Narayanan. He took a sip from his Brandy bottle, tied his scarf on his head and marched out to the Lighthouse to see what was wrong. He reached the lighthouse and flashed his dirty-yellow flashlight on the boat. The boat was empty. He walked into the water and reached the boat and climbed in.
Finding the cabin door ajar, he went in and flashed the light into the storage door on the floor. His eyes could see someone’s legs. Taking another sip from his Brandy bottle, he climbed down the stairs into the storage area. Halfway thro the stairs he stopped, frozen with fear. There lay in front of him two human corpses – rigged with bullet holes all over. He took a step back and turned fast to get out of the boat. A shovel came from nowhere and hit Narayanan’s head sending him headlong into the bottom of the boat. THE HOUND we saw driving the army SUV in the Island, climbed down the stairs to finish his job. THE HOUND never leaves anything incomplete… except for THE HAWK.
posted by Arjun.C.N at 11:37 AM
6 Comments:
making extra cash and all eh? and that too $900 :p
Whoa!!! This is getting better and better. Where did you think of this one? Am already curious to read the next chapter.
BTW, did you change your phone number?
extra cash -that too 900$ - is always welcome now... aint it sane??
The novel was in my heads for a long time. Now its just taking some shape. Hope I keep it going in the same pace.
The next one wud take a week. Still 7 more chapters to go.
and NO i did not change my no. Still the same.
7 more chapters? Well, lets see where this culminates? Delete this message later.
Your number: 818-704-1429? This is what you gave me, remember?
I have trying to call you in this number for over 2 months now. And finally, today someone picked up and said this was not your number. So, I believe I do not have your number.
Nice stuff.I like the use of words..... 'luminous reading'.... 'tobacco cylinder'..only i see a standard format pattern of sentences glaring into my face.try and play around with the format, otherwise it tends to get a little monotonous.
I like where this is going....
You write well.
and this bit here; this small bit; is the obituary of this monumental effort...u shuld have know it was coming ;))
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