Friday, 5 April 2013

Hiding From The Rain

Mr. Podolski was sitting in the attic, smoking idly. He continuously ignored the noise that was coming from downstairs. Everyone was watching the game, football. Both the windows in the attic were open. For a long time he was gazing at the blue sky which had some white spots here and there.

‘That’s a goal’, shouted his grandson, gripped in the game. Mr. Podolski gave a grim grin and lit a cigarette afresh. He failed to ignore the clouds gathering, the blue sky soon less blue. He thought, ‘They are teaming against me, again, like…that day.’ ‘That Day’ echoed inside him like the huge church bell echoed in the town. It revived his rage and furry. In spite of his daily practice, he merely feigned calmness. He stood-up from his rocking chair and reached the window limping. He sharply glanced above while the clouds replied with a thunder. He tried, tried hard, very hard but failed. His mind’s eye presented a slideshow before him. Green ground, heavy rain, his white dress no more white but muddy, 90 minutes almost over, score board shining 2-1, the crowd going mad, fans screaming ‘P-O-D-O-L-S-K-I-P-O-D-O-L-S-K-I’ , the commentator shouted, ‘It’s a penalty…all eyes on Hienz Podolski now’…. His mind de-fossilized the amber which consisted of the words spoken by his coach before the match. He had said, ‘for some people football is a matter of life and death…I can assure them it is much more serious.’ This was exactly what he thought before hitting the penalty and then….

‘We won!’ said Mr. Podolski’s grandson, shouting at the top of his voice. Mr. Podolski’s recollection died away. It was raining outside. He shut both the windows and settled back in his chair. ‘Should I tell grandpa?’ exclaimed the grandson, who was extremely excited to think about what he was saying. In few minutes, though, Mr. Podolski got the answer as his grandson didn’t come upstairs. He sat in the dark attic with the steady smoke all around him. He soaked the thundering sound and the heavy rainfall that gave his face a plastic expression and his eyes some moistness. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Truth

Dragging oneself ahead, only because dragging backwards would be difficult and funny, doesn’t complete you. Following an invisible laz...