In pursuit of The One

It wasn't his day. Night, rather. Or day actually, since the day here begins at 12 am, literally.

He'd been identified long back as 'The ONE'. The one who'd be stared at even as he'd drip wisdom with his every word. The one who'd never be taken seriously, for geniuses never are. The one who'd be laughed at simply coz he was above the lesser mortals...The one who's innocence would be his undoing as he'd be hunted down by a pack of nasty kids-on-the-block...his fellow 'preppies' it seems. The One.

It all began with a harmless b'day celebration. Jeetish Bansod. The guy whose secret desire was to sing 'Yeh mera Dil...' for Helen. We made sure it got fulfilled. (Didn't someone tell you we're angels?) The b'day boy did have quite the time of his life. We ensured that the Ponds face wash tube he'd secretly purchased at Himalaya Mall would get completely used up. In fact, we ensured that the face wash tubes of all alike would be empty the next day. The taps were barely spared. But the buckets were put to good use.

(Adv: Whoever said cake was only for eating?! Come to us. Play Holi of a different kind. In sweltering June. Fee: One kg Blackforest cake and a bucketful of cold water. Guaranteed returns.)

Of course, there was one who was quick enough to flee before his face was decorated. One who thought he'd be spared. The One.

It didn't take long for the rest to figure out. You can't miss the one who everyone wants to get back at. (Don't ask for what. That is bound to remain a mystery for life. Too bad for him)

Within moments of the realisation dawning, people collectively resolved, wiped off the cream that clung lazily to their noses n chins and crept up D13 - his abode. He wasn't there. Smart fellow. Knew people would come seeking him. Full plans of absconding. If only the others wouldn't be smarter...

Something had to be done. Reliable sources revealed that he was to visit the chimp's room in some time to watch a movie. People stealthily moved to the new campus. Ok, laughing n sneering n hooting is not exactly 'stealthily'. Yet.

But what if he'd know? There was no way of verifying.

And then, the inevitable happened. The One walked into the trap himself. One of the comrades had his precious possession which he had to retrieve - his hard disk drive. She put on her most innocent tone, convinced him that she didn't know what was on, and was in fact taking a walk at the LKP. Quite believable. Especially the last part. At any time of the day. Or night.

They decided to meet near the underpass so that she'd pass on what was anyway his. And probably join them for the Telugu movie. Quite unbelievable. At any time of the day. Or night. He should've known.

And then he committed a second error. Called a second comrade to invite her for the movie. She very wittingly said that she was with the first comrade anyway and would see him at the underpass. The trap was laid. No bait was needed. He was walking into it himself. Literally.

The underpass, at an unearthly hour, saw excited movement. About 8-10 odd people, armed with remnants of the cake, now waited behind the bushes, poised for an attack fit for a battle. It was war time.

He walked. With one ear glued to the cell phone. Eyes glued to the approaching comrades. Would've been too risky to let him walk by himself. They virtually escorted him. Lucky chap.

He'd just taken a shower. Scrubbed himself squeaky clean. Even better.

Then it all happened. In a blinding flash of activity. Junta screamed n pounced. He screamed n ducked. Too late. In a matter of moments it was all over. What was left was his inimitable expression, and the greasy, sugary cream that clung to every inch of his face. Silence erupting into triumphant laughter. Slaps on the back. Pics. Gleaming, mocking faces.

The ambush was succesful. All would sleep in peace. All, but one. The One.

It's not just cricket where they take his case. Maybe it just wasn't his day.

Actually, it never is.