The Chayyam's

Wow! Clear blue sky with the ever enigmatic Sun blessing the world with its golden rays. Just a perfect day, more so it being a Sunday. The phone rings. He knows from the tune who the caller is. Damu was expecting this. He receives the call and greets Kethaki in the most mannered way possible, for Kethaki is not an appreciator of the colloquials. After speaking for a couple of minutes she asks him to come down to her room, which is two floors below his. Damu agrees with a smile.

Kethaki, the youngest in the Chayyam family, has been Damu's friend for more than a year. It was Kethaki who opened the door when he first came to the Chayyam's house as a guest... a paying guest. It was then and there that their frequencies got tuned. She was cute, smart and loquacious, a bit like Damu himself leaving apart the cuteness and the loquacity. They spent a lot of time together, she had a lot of stuff to tell, ranging from why she dislikes her neighbor Shiya to how she can now solve the most difficult problems in her curriculum. She also had a plethora of complains about her parents, most of them related to the discipline. In Damu she found a perfect friend, who gave her a lot of time, never got annoyed, and also helped her with her studies. Damu on the other hand just enjoyed her company.

Climbing down the steps, forty three of them, was the most horrendous task for Damu, for he knew he has to do just the reverse task to get back to the room। He put his hand on the door bell. The maid opened the door, provided the information that the Chayyams were not at home and banged the door on his face. The door bell rang again, maid opened the door again with the most evil look possible. Damu was not perturbed by this animosity, for he knew she was well within her limit for the distraught-- how dare he complain about her when his watch went missing, though he had found it around her husband's wrist? Of course she got out of the matter by putting forward the point that the watch company don't produce just one piece of a particular model and Damu dint have any proof to prove her wrong--. The maid was told that he has work with Kethaki. He was let in and the door was slammed with the herculean force. His journey from entrance to Kethaki's room was keenly monitored. Damu received this with a smile.

The guest was welcomed in the room with a kiss on the forehead. Damu reciprocated on the cheek. He looked around the room. It was mess, a complete mess. Clothes lay on the study table in a confused heap. Books, lying in a far corner of the room, participated in the experiment which involved collecting and studying the dust in the room. The invitee did not require any further proof that the seniors were on a week long outing. He heard the door being shut. One look at the hostess, and Damu sensed the mood in the room, certain of what was in stall for the next thirty minutes. He made attempts to refuse, of course futile. Manning this man was a cake walk for Kethaki. And they started. Bed was the first to be blessed, followed by carpet, floor, table. Closet was not lucky to be spared either. Out of exhaustion they collapsed in the bed. Water was the only thing he could think of at the moment. Kethaki went and opened the door only to find Mom. More happy than surprised at the timing, she let her in. Looking at the stacks of book on the table, clothes majestically in the closet, clean carpet equidistant from the two corner walls and most importantly Mr. Damu in the room, Mrs Chayyam could see the replay action of past thirty minutes. Struck in ambivalence, she turned to the young man "Damu, you are a paying guest in this house, not a room cleaner of this seven year old monster". "No problem Aunty, I dont mind it for some Coffee and Dosa".

Damu And The Clutches Of (Almost) Death

...is held by neck, Damu strangles to escape from the clutches, but despite all his efforts the force keeps on increasing. Damu gives up all the hope of surviving and leaves his body to the fate. And suddenly... the pressure around his neck stops to build up. The music starts... the longitudinal waves hit Damu's eardrums. Damu is frustrated. He fails to digest the fact that someone can be so stone hearted to play music when he is about to die. The music does stop for a moment, but starts all over again. Damu cannot hold himself. He makes the move to find the one playing the music, but with his moves the clutches around his neck, which had gone into oblivion, return with vengeance. Damu gives up once again, and so does the brute force. Suddenly there is a short circuit in the Damu's cerebral system. Some memories strike him, the music still playing. He recollects, he knows it now. All is clear. Damu can now afford to smile, although he decides against. He opens his eyes, carefully untangles the bed sheet wrapped around his neck, snoozes off the ringing alarm in his cell phone and closes his eyes, moving into the clutches of sleep again.