Will You Listen To A Braggadocio? (A Night of Thrill and Excitement for a Cowardly Hero)

Will You Listen To A Braggadocio?

Will You Listen To A Braggadocio?

(A Night of Thrill and Excitement for a Cowardly Hero)

- R.Lalramdina

11:30 P.M!

The moon shone down on the hills and valleys. The gentle though bitter-cold breezes whispered past the ears. The moon light danced joyously on the leaves. The shrubs and the grasses were put on the lime light, and it looked as if the long, illuminated tentacles of the moon were caressing the bulges and curves of the topography. There was a distant lonely owl hooting now and then. The sights and sounds of the night were almost enchanting, almost magical. On a night like this, your thoughts may wander back to the time when you first met your first love; your feelings may get pleasantly burnt by the way your romance ended.

May. But not so! Not so when you are sitting alone in a secluded wilderness, at this time of the night, where the adjacent hill is none other than a grave yard! The realization suddenly turned the beautiful night into a horror setting where zombies and phantoms may suddenly spring up from nowhere, with their arms stretched forward, their blank, lifeless eyes gazing at you with extreme hatred The moon light had an altogether different effect now - it made the place look so lifeless, like the face of a dead person drained of blood, and the mysterious fogs silhouetting past now and then could easily be mistaken for ghosts. In short, the sights and sounds of the night were simply eerie, if not more!

And I was there, sitting alone, armed with a table-knife and a toy pistol, ready and waiting, and nervous as anything!

It was 30th December. It was the night when our team, a few selected volunteers, were to be on duty to prevent unauthorized drugs and liquor-trafficking and thus to prevent the unnecessary and unwelcome consequences of such activities. At around 8:30, I went with a friend to the Indoor Stadium located at the centre of the village which is also often used as a Community Hall, where our team was to meet and make plans as to how to patrol the night most effectively, so that every nook and corner is covered. When we arrived there, we saw no one. A little disappointed, but half glad that the arduous night-patrolling might have been called off, we went home as no one came even after we waited for about half an hour. I stopped at my friend's for a cup of coffee and we watched a movie till the late hours of the night. When I finally got home, it was already past ten and I decided that I would go straight to bed. But

It was a strange sensation. Whether it was a hunter instinct or a sixth sense, or neither of them but something else, I cannot make it out. There was something that urged me on, something that would not allow me to go to bed, something in the sub-conscious level that compelled me to venture out into the night. I realized that instead of trying to suppress this urge, it would be wiser to prepare myself for a solo night.

I put on a heavy army leather boot and got out from my suit-case a gun-holster which I kept since my adolescence when, with kids of my age, I used to get engrossed in a game called Indo Lem,' an exaggerated form of hide-and-seek. I slipped my arms inside the shoulder straps and put a toy gun in the holster on the left, the handle facing forward. I slipped on a black jacket over it and then wrapped myself in a large, black woolen shawl. I also wore black pants, - I figured it should be good to dress myself all in black. I stuffed my pockets with a pack of cigarettes, a match box and a table-knife. Satisfied after catching a glimpse of my reflection on the mirror, I set out!

Excuse me while I make an interruption here to state that I live in a State where Total Liquor Prohibition Act is exercised by the Government. There always are the brighter and darker sides to every thing. In my opinion, I think it is very fortunate that the State Government should be exercising it. Street fights are less frequent, there is a remarkable fall in murder cases, women harassments and rape cases as well. So far as the welfare and harmony of the society is concerned, the exercise is a success. And what is to be more desired than societal harmony? Now you can have a calm, peaceful evening walk which was really rare when bars and wine shops were open and any man could get his fill of intoxicating drinks. School children, though still a little bit timid, could now come outdoors after school and play on the streets with an air of freedom.

At this time of the year, however, it's a different story altogether!

I had to chose the spot to wait for those traffickers because, first of all, it was the main route used by them; secondly, there was such a maze of roads and path-ways within the village that there was scarcely any chance of my catching them once they have come past this point. This was the best suited spot, almost a kilometer away from the nearest house. I sat down behind a pile of cubic rocks on the edge above the road, from where I had a clear view of the road below. There was a narrow path that linked the spot to the road. I cut some vines and tied their ends to small bushes and took the other ends to the spot where I shall be stationed. When I pulled at them, the bushes started shaking, making it look like there were many men stationed in different spots. If I was to encounter and fight the bad guys' single-handedly, at this odd hour, with no one to come to my aid, even if I shouted for help at the top of my voice, I had to think clearly and have a thorough preparation, as, you know, there was every possibility that they could be armed!

By now, I was almost ready. There was only one more thing that I needed to do

I started praying. "Lord, you see the situation in which I have put myself. You were always there when I needed you and I thank you for that. And tonight, I pray that you'll see me through everything I do so that I may witness and proclaim to others your divine authority and faithfulness." Now, I was ready. Let them come. Let them make my day, or my night, for that matter!

Almost 12:30 now. Still nothing, except for the night-animal sounds which were, though slight as they were, enough to hammer at my heart and make the adrenaline rush. I was all tensed up, and slightly afraid, and utterly lonely! I grew tired of crouching behind the pile of rocks, especially since the place was infested with insects. So I crept out of there and exposed myself to the moonlight to enjoy the sight. I lit up another cigarette the fourth I think, ( I have since long given up the habit, though), and drew in the smoke deeply. The tension eased a bit, and I was starting to really enjoy the solitude and began to compose a free-verse mentally. Then suddenly, I heard voices on the road just below! There was no time to go back to my former position for I would be spotted instantly. And if I kept on sitting there in the open, I would be practically exposed to their view and be more easily spotted, unless I do something quickly.

I just lay down on the ground as quickly as I could. Thank God that they didn't spot me! They went past down below on the road and, looking through my nose thank God that I was oblivious of its shape and size this time, or I would have instantly lost my self-confidence again I could see that they were three men. Two of them were carrying a small log of wood each on their shoulders and the one in the middle was carrying a bundle of twigs on his back. They looked like the regular paddy cultivators coming home from their fields, and they would not have provoked the least bit of my suspicion if not for the oddness of the hour of the night. I could be making a mistake and unnecessarily embarrass innocent farmers, as well as myself. Still.. Hell! (please pardon) Let them turn out to be whoever they are. I'll just do what I came here for. Apologies latter, then I grew nervous. What if they do turn out to be the bad guys'? They were three grown up men, three! And I was single and a youngster at that! Did they say "Late bloomers"? Well, how about "A hero-to-be die young"? And what do I have for protection a toy pistol? And a table-knife? Then a verse from the Book flooded into my mind: If God be for us, who can be against us.' That's all I needed.

"Stop!"

What came out from my throat was more like a croaking sound than a voice. Their reaction confirmed my suspicion: two of them threw down their logs and prepared to run; the reaction of the third was almost pitiful, for he could neither throw down his bundles as quickly nor would he have been able to run fast enough with the bundle on his back even if he would try to do so. I cleared my throat and before anyone could make another move, I shouted again,

"Stop or we'll shoot. You are surrounded!"

They seemed to get the message, and taking me for my words, they froze on the road. Coming down slowly towards the road, I said, speaking to the empty night,

"Alright team, I'm going down myself to search them. Stay in your positions and cover me."

I thought of the cords with which I tied the bushes, but to go back there and pull at them to convince them that I do have a team would be just to expose my real identity to them. So much for the arduous preparation! I continued to walk slowly down the narrow and slippery path, legs shaking, and hairs rising, I believe!

When I came to the road I ordered,

"You stand there, and you, there, and you there, far from each other. Clear?"

Then I pushed the fake pistol out of my shawl and then quickly pulled it back in, for I did not want them to have too clear a look at it! Now they were in the positions where I wanted them.

"Now take off your bags and jackets and shirts."

I had to make sure there was no weapon underneath.

"Alright. Turn around very slowly and take five determined steps away from your things."

This was to convince them that I was a professional. I had to be extra-cautious.

I started searching their bags, their jackets and their bodies. I found nothing! I grew desperate and began to feel ashamed. I was on the point of apologizing to them when it dawned on me that the one carrying the bundle of twigs on his back had extra-carefully put it down so that it may stand upright on the road, as if he was afraid of disturbing something inside. I turned toward that bundle. Then something unexpected happened. The one whom I searched last and who had a long scar on his forehead, one who looked very sinister and a frequenter of jails, reached out for his bag where he kept his big, long knife. I leapt toward him and thundered,

"Did I tell you to get that?"

"Bbutyou've finished searching me."

I caught him by his chest and pushed him back.

"Try to grab that bag again until I tell you to and you'll get it from me. Understood?"

I had to act very confident. If I show even the slightest sign of fear or hesitation, I knew that I was history. I went to that bundle and kicked it down on the road. Then, wonder of wonders, for me at least, the bottom of a large oil can was revealed at the bottom of that bundle. My hunch was right they are' traffickers. My situation was confirmed - I have in my hands hardened criminals! I had to compose myself again. "Don't give way. Don't give way." Perspirations came out from my forehead despite the chilly winter night. Here I am, in the wilderness with three criminals, with no one to hear me even if I shouted my lungs out! "Don't give way. Don't give way to fear. God is with you."

I gathered all my courage and kicked at the bundle as if out of rage.

"What is this, huh? What is this?" I demanded. "You, untie the bundle!"

He hesitated. I slapped him hard on his face with my free hand. May be I was a little too hard on them, but this was because I half suspected heroine inside the can, and the one language such men knew best was hard judgment and fast action. I guess!

"Un-tie-the-bundle!"

Inside the can were concentrated wine fermented from rice, packed in polythene bags. They told me that one bag can be reproduced to more than ten bottles of diluted wine. I didn't care much about that, though. After I counted the number of the packs about fifteen, I am not sure I stuffed them back into the can and ordered one of them to carry it. I told them that I was taking them to my seniors who were waiting in the village. Before we started walking, I shouted out to my make-belief team,

"O.K. guys, I'm taking these men to my seniors. Keep to your places and wait for the others who were reported yet to come. They are bound to arrive any minute now. If anything goes wrong, you know the signal."

This may sound ridiculous to you. But to me, it was the most serious acting I ever had to perform! Then I took them to house of the branch Y.M.A. President. Y.M.A. is the biggest youth association in the State.

Y.M.A. Day came. Although I honestly and genuinely didn't like it, I received a certificate and a cup of valor from my Branch. Quite a few persons since than have been asking me to relate that encounter and yes, I confess, I love to brag a lot, and I seldom hesitate to tell them the story. But I'll never forget how it was the good Lord who did all these things for me, and what a true, cowardly hero I was!

Will You Listen To A Braggadocio? (A Night of Thrill and Excitement for a Cowardly Hero)

By: Ramdina

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