The Sound and the Fury

Let me take you back in time...

Four stalwarts from the realm of literature strode strong and steady- albeit a little dusty- into the hallowed premises of the Newspaper. They had traversed tracts of dry, dusty,fissured lands, into the heart of Ambattur. Here they met the heartless Seven-Hills:who ruthlessly dispatched the great hero Gunther to the Features department and the others to the Editorial. So Pyne, Bentley and Ames bid a tearless but moving adieu to their comrade and trudged to their separate fates.

So much for the exposititon.

Pyne,Bentley and Ames were assigned to work with the verbose King-go-Milk. 'Verbose' being a tactful understatement. Somewhere in the middle of the 50th example of his youthful exploits, King-go-Milk remembered that the interns were to be assigned work. Snapping awake from their glazed stupor, the three drew their pens and attacked the 5 copies assigned to each of them. Just as the first marks were about to be made, there came a terrible sound...

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRPPPPPP!!

"What was that?!" gasped Pyne.
"Sounded like a wart hog!" exclaimed Benltey.
"You've heard wart hogs?" mused Ames.
Their discussion was interrupted by another earth shattering 'UUUUUURRRRPPPP!!!'

"There it is again!" hissed Bentley.
"Let's investigate!" said Ames.
"Wait, let's scout the area first." cautioned the ever cautious Pyne.

Three pairs of eyes scanned the forest of cubicles.

GAAAAARRRRRRPPP!

Three heads swivelled- And there, sitting inconspicously in a cluster of computers, sat the Burper.
BAAAAARRRPPPPP!

"Oh it's just some guy with a ventilation problem." smiled Pyne.
"Probably had too much potato poriyal for lunch." snickered Ames.
UUUUURRRRPPPP!
"Well, he'd better put a stopper on it. Now let's get back to work before King-go-Milk decides to 'inspire' us with more of his young-tales." muttered Bentley.

But,you see gentle readers, regardless of it's monotonous nature, editing does require concentration. Having a nonstop burp-monster in your vicinity does not help. And the Burper's range was astounding. He could go from Foghorn to bullfrog in the space of a breath. To this day Ames swears that the Burper hit all seven notes in the scale.While the earlier expulsions were sporadic and far apart, pretty soon it was one per minute. It was like a form of chinese torture! Grating and grating until Ames had to be physically restrained from committing murder.

"Don't do it! He is just a guy with gas trouble!" panted Pyne hanging on grimly to a flailing arm.

"Yes! Be happy it's not coming out through the other end." wheezed Bentley tenaciously restraining the other.

With a great exertion of will Ames calmed down, and even completed the copies. In defence of Ames, this burporama coming shortly after an extreme exposure to King-go-Milk's narratives would bring down even the greatest. With each day of exposure to the Burper's gastric exhibitions, the three grew stronger and stronger. By the end of the internship they were totally immune to the airy onslaught. No longer did the sound produce such fury. The Buddha probably employed similar methods to teach his disciples forbearance.

You see gentle readers, like all great heros the three too had their fair share of tests before they reached the object of their quest. The Burper was only one of the obstacles in the dusty paths of their internship. Though we have already passed through the gates, the author is sure that somewhere in the bowels of the Newspaper, nestled comfortably among cables, coiled like intestines, the Burper still burps in abandon.

Thankfully, we are nowhere nearby to hear him.

Dusty stories-3

AUTHORS NOTE:- THOSE WHO HAVE NO IDEA WHAT DUSTY STORIES-3 IS ABOUT ARE REQUESTED TO READ DUSTY STORIES 1 AND 2.

STATUTORY WARNING-LOOK IT UP WHILE YOU LOOK AT DUSTY STORIES 2.
_______________________________________________________

From Dust to Dust.

The end approaches.Soon The Four will bid adieu to Ambattur.

Shouldn't the quartet be delirious with joy?
Shouldn't they reel with delight at the thought of dust-less days?

Then why do they feel depressed at thought of leaving?

Ah the irony!

The last few days had been some of the best. Ames, Pyne and Bentley had their names in print and Agent Gunther had several diplomatic assignments in the Reporting Arena. The dust no longer stung as much. They had met absolutely fascinating people like The Disciple and Ten-o-clocker. Even pestilences like the Burper, the Potato-Man and Bulb-Eye had become bearable.They had unforgetable experiences like Bentley's massaging travails, Ames' dizzy spell(NOT FAINT), Pyne's hitherto unknown fans asking for doubtlessly good-looking Pyne's details to supply their smitten friends with. And how can the author forget the dear Mother Goose who showed Pyne,Bentley and Ames the wonders of anna Nagar like Oddessey, besides others.

And of course the buses.

These Terrors of the road have turned into familiars. Though bus routes are still a coiled mystery and small change is permanently elusive- the Four are no longer the novices that hung on for dear life on the bars of an MTC. They are veterans of the road wars- nearly killed, almost hauled out, stepped on, prodded, squashed...they have survived. And now they will be no more surfing, no more long discussions on love, art and the universe of Ambattur.Ah the loss of those days full camaraderie- cursing the heat with good humored vehemence,swearing sweetly at the sweat, laughing like loons at jokes nobody else would find even remotely funny- How will they live without it?

Yet the Four Interns lift up their chins. They will not bend in despondency. The Dusty stories may have ended, but their stories will go on. They turn their faces to the burning sun and look to the road ahead.

After all..

Tomorrow is another day.

Dusty Stories-2

AUTHOR'S NOTE:All those who have no idea what Dusty Stories-2 is about are requested to read Dusty Stories-1.

STATUTORY WARNING-These entries are purely non-fictional. Any resemblance to people living or dead are completely intentional. The reader undertakes reading this at her/his own risk. We will not be held responsible for future dust-phobia or any dust related disorders that may strike the reader post reading.

______________________________________________________

Dust is dangerous.

It does baaaaad things to you.
And that is besides the inevitable scratchiness.

The fellowship of Gunther,Ames,Pyne and Bentley have found, in a series of formidable battles with this sifty adversary, that prolonged exposure to dust causes a definite case of Cuckosia Mentalosa.

It begins with a vague feeling of light headed-ness. This can easily be mistaken for dehydration- but beware! Then come the bouts of hysterical senseless giggling.Finally the all out loss of sanity which may result in various complications and embarrassment to the person next to you. Some of the catalogued results are- singing loudly(understatement)in the middle of the road, shouting comments at unwary passerbys, trying to do pull ups on a bus bar when there isn't room enough for a squashed sardine and of course the general obstruction of peace.
Ames was the worst hit. Generally an effervecent and not too inhibited soul- Ames became an uncontrollable lunatic and did all the above mentioned activities and grinned apologetically at the chaos. Though Ames was the worst case- the other bold warriors also succumbed to the dreadful (but rather entertaining)disease.

And as if cuckosia wasn't bad enough, there was also the fact that the fellowship members began to resemble baked bricks and feel like grime pots.

After the stint in the Editorial, Ames,Bentley and Pyne were removed to Reporting. Gunther-still painfully separated- was posted in the Editorial. The Three reporterns gave Gunther valuable insight on the working of the said department; especially of the in charge- let's call him King-go-Milk - who had a penchant for telling long stories and interesting tid-bits:especially when we have to run and catch the bus.

The three interns at Reporting valiantly approached the Reporting department. Our fellow worker at the editorial [who,btw,never failed to point out that she was from Mumbai,with the familial background of the SIS college(probably affiliated to the BRO college,the DAD College and the MUM college...and so on and so forth){I use a lot of parentheses}]who had had some experience in the reporting dept filled our heads with images of having to travel to faraway lands and returning back to dustville merely to give in a measley report.

On entering the alien portals we were made to follow the general axiom of The Newspaper,remnicent of Gandalf,"And now we wait". When finally we met the great man-let's call him the Ten-o-Clocker - who headed the dept we arrived just in time to hear the head declare "Let them arrest me!I don't give a damn!" At which, this writer admits, we were much impressed. It's not everyday that a man proffesses to want to ride in the paddy-wagon! We were immediately given work. "Ah something to get our teeth into" Thought the three. The mission quickly accomplished, we returned to be given our first assignment only to be told to call at 10. " Such a great aura of mystery" thought Ames. "Did he really mean 10 at night?" pondered Pyne.

Dutifully we called and were sent bounding off to places we had never heard of before. In the following days we did all the things we were afraid of doing- namely getting lost in the middle of nowhere(Ames), being mistaken for a kid(Pyne), getting to the venue to find NOBODY around (Bentley), and generally being clueless( need I say- ALL).
Yet we shouldered our burdens and forged ahead despite heat,sweat and damn it all DUST!! We kept a smile on our face -maniacal though it may have been. for after all-
tomorrow is another day...

*To be continued*

Dusty Stories-1

Zealously cutting short our vacation in order to get a taste of "profession", four of us- let's call us Ames, Gunther, Bentley and Pyne- set out to the glowing portals of Indian Express.Please note- it was only while setting out that we were zealous. One look at the prospective travel lowered our zeal considerably.

Ah, forgive me. I'm being circuitous. Let's start at the very beginning- it's a pretty good place to start.

We four pioneers of the English stream, chose to do a course that requires an internship. Being the worthy students that we are we chose to go to a prestigious company- and therefore: The Newspaper. We were required to submit a letter to the editor warning him of our impending arrival. A noble thought. The place was located in Amabttur- and the light in our glowing faces dimmed. "Ah well, worth a try." said the enthusiastic four.

The scenic beauty of Ambattur exists wholly in the imagination.
Comprising mostly of dust,grime,hardware stores and unending heat- the Industrial Estate was a planet away from comfort. It would have helped if the place were accesible but... let's just say if the work didn't kill us the travel would.But forever the optimists we persevered.

The bus ride didn't help.
The sight of dust, dust and more dust also didn't help.
And being made to wait for 1 and a half hours and then being told that the editor was not even there definitely DID NOT HELP.

"What nonsense!" cried Gunther in rage. Ames was also not very amicable. However, Bentley and Pyne,forever the souls calmness, said, "It's alright we'll come again later."

Thus began a series of phone calls to ascertain when to come. (We have come up with a most excellent theory- they give internship applicants the ONE number that will NEVER be picked up.)Finally we were asked to meet the great man at a specified time.

And so, once again we undertook the ardorous journey. Saw dust dust and more dust. (not to mention garbage and plastic). Reached the destination. And was met by the Editor's secretary- let's call him Seven-Hills. Seven-Hills asked us to wait an hour(they seem to go by Milton's axiom- "...even those are served who stand and wait")After which-JOY OF JOYS- our letter was accepted and we were officially intern-ised!!

And thus began the great saga of The Internship!

On the appointed day(May 2)at the appointed time (12.30) we met the ever present Seven-Hills. He mercilessly separated the foursome and now Gunther walks alone in the world of Features while Ames, Bentley and Pyne were assigned to the editorial. Burying our sorrows, we enthusiastically set out revolutionise the editorial!!!- and were made to wait. Till 5. And finally were set free without having done anything. Oh the Humanity!!! More like oh the dust! But- tomorrow is another day...

*To Be Continued*