Monday, 15 August 2011

THEM SLAVES



This post was published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 23; the twenty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for this month was FREE.
This post bagged the Bronze Batom (3rd position)







Duke led his team into the building's lobby. To onlookers, they seemed like just a group of six backpack-laden executives. But they were more than just that.

They were men on a mission. Six young men determined to get their freedom. Each of them carried a heavy backpack, and had a device held tightly in their fists. Their eyes looked far out into the horizon and their faces were devoid of emotion. It was hard to tell whether it was the look of focus or that of cold remorseless rage.

Duke led his men into the elevator. After having scaled 12 stories, he walked them out to the reception area. He then signaled them to follow him as he walked briskly towards the reception table.

Without a word of greeting, he said to the receptionist, "We wanna meet the Master."

The young lady fumbled for words, "Erm...well...the Master said he shouldn't be disturbed. He's in the middle of a..."

"We demand a meeting with him right now!!!" the six men barked out in unison.

She quickly picked up her phone and punched a digit. "Master, Duke and his team seek to meet you." Clumsily dropping the receiver, she informed them, "You may go in."

The band of six marched in, with Duke walking right in front of them, towards the Master's cabin. Having reached the door, Duke simply pushed it open, without caring to knock.

Inside, they saw the Master sitting with his feet resting on top of the table. His arms were folded behind his head. He was wearing dark sunglasses.

"Well, well. If it isn't my dear Duke and his team of five", the Master said. "Welcome my boys. Dawn says you were desperate to meet me. You shouldn't have scared the poor girl the way you did. She's such a sweet young lady."

"We don't care if she's sweet or tangy. We just came to return these." He pulled off his backpack and dropped it on the Master's table. Ditto with the device that was lodged in his fist. The five aped their leader.

"Not done boys. Just a few months ago, when I gave these to you, you were jumping with joy. What's wrong with these?" the Master enquired.

"We didn't know we'd be parting with our freedom. We've become slaves to these devices. Take these back and give us something else" said Duke. The others nodded in agreement.

The Master swore under his breath. "Very well then. Have these instead." He opened his drawer and pulled out six boxes.

At first quite hesitant to even look at the boxes, Duke and his team jumped like little kids as soon as they found out what they contained.

"Thank you Master." said Duke on behalf of his boys. "We misunderstood you. You have been kind and generous. Sorry for being rude."

"It's okay my boys. Now go out and enjoy yourselves."

After they had left the building, Dawn rushed in. "You okay Master?"

"Yep."

Looking at the pile of devices on his table, she asked, "They've returned their laptops and cellphones? What do we do with these?"

"Give them to the newbies. They'll love them...for a few months at least” he sniggered.

“And what about Duke and his team? Aren’t they gonna work?”

“Relax” said the Master. “I’ve given them Blackberrys.” And he burst out in a sinister laugh that echoed through the building.

We're slaves to devices...even if they're free.



The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Happy Independence Day!




Sunday, 7 August 2011

THE SNITCH


Goga sucked the last puff in very slowly. He knew he’d finally run out of cigarettes.

“What’s the little rat’s name again?”, he asked, treading on the stub.

“I think the boss said Abdul”, replied Tony, rubbing his eyes and stifling a cough or two. Being nicotine-intolerant wasn’t appreciated in his business circles.

“Hmm..Abdul. That snitch has been letting the cops in on our coke business for months now. We’ve lost consignments worth at least 15 million so far because of that kid. He’s gotta go down.”

“The boss said this is the area he frequents. No other clues though. No one knows what he looks like. We don’t even know if that’s his real name.”

“Damn”, swore Goga under his breath, instinctively rummaging through his pockets for another ciggie. He swore again after he remembered he’d run out of stock. “So, how then are we supposed to find him.”

Tony only shrugged his shoulders.

Just then, a lame man emerged from the crowd. He was seated on a mini-cart, propelling himself forward using his hands. He suddenly burst out into a song.

Aate Jaate Hue Main Sab-pe Nazar Rakhta Hun

Aate Jaate Hue Main Sab-pe Nazar Rakhta Hun

Naam Abdul Hai Mera, Sabki Khabar Rakhta Hun...

Tony and Goga looked at each other and scratched their heads for a couple of seconds. When realisation suddenly dawned upon them, they smiled, gave each other high-fives, rubbed their hands in anticipation of their scalp, and went looking for the singer.

POOR ADVERTISING CAMPAIGNS CAN KILL YOUR PRODUCT YOU.

Here's Abdul's Song ==> ABDUL'S SONG

P.S.:- Here's reminding you about the blogging contest on The Bloggeratti Community. The theme is "WET IN THE RAIN".

For details, go to this link ==> BLOGGERATTI CONTEST LINK

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