A Game Of Shame And Revenge

Make way for our next entry to the ‘And then…’ contest. Just reminding, I am not disclosing the author‘s name now so that we can have a fair voting. The write-ups would be posted in the order I receive them… Here are the rules & hints and here is The Scene…


He didn’t seem to notice her staring at him. His balding head, grizzly beard… gave her goose bumps. He was an enigma. Despite every criticism he had faced in the last couple of weeks, he had remained stolid and unabashed. If nothing else, she admired his superior, almost brazen self-confidence.

But how could she forget the taunts she had to face – because of him? He had shamed her. Beyond words could explain. Everywhere she went, people associated her with him. They called ‘her’ and ‘her people’ a ‘cheat’. The real reason for her taking this so-called vacation was to escape the taunts from her colleagues and friends.

‘This is my chance!’ she muttered under her breath, with a determination she never thought she was capable of. ‘I will have my revenge’.

Liz gave flashed her best smile. He didn’t notice. She jerked slightly, spilling water over herself. He noticed. She then took off her jacket with one quick sensuous movement. Beneath, she was wearing a lacy black vest.

This time, the man put his magazine down, and gave her a small grin. ‘Water spilled huh?’ he asked in a thick Indian accent. Liz smiled sheepishly, eyeing the little document holder tucked away in his seat pocket.

‘Hi, I’m Liza..’ she introduced herself with a firm handshake.

Hellow’ he replied, not letting go of her palm.

‘So what takes you to Sydney?’ she cooed.

‘You see, I have to build rapport.. we can have relationships, you know’ he winked.

Liz shuddered inwardly, but nodded. ‘I see. I’m so cold! Would you mind lending me your jacket?’ she asked sweetly.

‘Of course, anything for a beautiful girl like you!’, the man replied, and gallantly left to fetch his jacket from the overhead locker. Liz used the minute, to do exactly what she had planned.

By the time he had returned to his seat, she had covered herself with a small blanket, and pretended to have fallen asleep. The man frowned upon the opportunity lost! He looked for his magazine, but it was gone.

The next couple of hours were spent in silence, interrupted by the drone of the airplane, snores from the man, and the quiet ripping of some papers beneath Liz’s blanket.

When the plane landed, Liz beamed upon the man ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, good-bye’. He smiled half-heartedly. She sniggered, and quickly walked away to find a spot from where she could hide and watch the fun.

At the immigration gates, the uniformed authorities surrounded him. He seemed to be searching for something. He rummaged through every pocket, but couldn’t find what he was looking for, so desperately.

‘Sir, you have to produce your passport!’ the staff shouted impatiently.

‘You know who the hell I am?’ the man replied arrogantly.

‘We would if you could show us your passport’

Liz giggled.

The authorities looked at each other, and decided to take him in! ‘Bring the cuffs’, one of the security officers threatened. The man shook his head miserably. He looked wild and angry. ‘I’ll destroy you!’In a moment, his expression changed to Sad and Hurt. ‘Please believe me!’ And finally, helpless.

‘Take him to the interrogation cell!’ The authorities led him away unceremoniously.

Liz strode out of the airport, laughing under her breath:

‘You shamed me, you a*shole. You brought dishonour to me and my country. Made us a bl**dy laughing stock. Everywhere I go, people snigger at how corrupt, inefficient and shameless we are! Now you deserve this! May you rot in prison, you slimeb*all!’ she laughed to herself, and hailed a cab.

She stopped at a dustbin, to drop the shredded pieces of bluish-greyish paper. The passport of Suresh Kalmadi, chief (dis)organizer of the Common Wealth Games 2010.

PURELY A WORK OF FICTION. THOUGH MUCH PRAYER GOES INTO IT, HOPING THIS COMES TRUE ONE DAY!

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A Moment to Forget (or Remember?)

Here’s the next entry to the ‘And then…’ contest. Just reminding, I am not disclosing the author‘s name now so that we can have a fair voting. The write-ups would be posted in the order I receive them… Here are the rules & hints and here is The Scene…

He glanced up suddenly at her, and then smiled – a bemused smile. He removed the headphones from his ears, and then studied her intently for a moment. She swallowed uncomfortably, looked at her boarding pass to check which seat she’d been given, and then cursed her luck. She was in the wrong seat.

Worse luck yet, her actual seat was just one row behind. She got up, and then looked at the numbers again.

“Excuse me,” she told the guy, who still wore the same bemused smile on his face, “But I think that is my seat.”

“So it is,” he said, getting up and moving to seat next to hers. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and sat down.

There was a loud crunch. She got up, shocked, and then winced when she saw that she had sit down on top of what she presumed were his glasses. He grinned more (what was making that man smile so much!?) and picked up the glasses. She could see that the glass had cracked.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, only to see his expression change for the first time to a frown.

“Sit down, Liz,” he said, his tone suddenly different from what it had been a moment ago. Suddenly he was no longer the polite stranger, but the old acquaintance. The shift made her heart start beating a little faster. His frown turned deeper, the chocolate brown eyes squinting in a way that she remembered rather fondly. “You do remember me, don’t you?”

How could she forget? The fairytale whirlwind romance, the wild week in paris with the handsome stranger, those days when she was happy?

“Of course I remember you,” she said, but she had to struggle for a moment to place the name. “Brian.”

“I’m glad,” he told her, and the boyish grin that she also remembered very fondly returned. “I haven’t seen you for…what…two years now? How have you been? And what’s up in Sydney?”

“I’ve been, fine,” she answered cautiously, not really sure where she wanted to take this. “Just going on a vacation…what are you doing?”

“Visiting my family. My dad lives in Sydney. You know – Rottheimer, from the Rottheimer and sons…”

His dad was the biggest business man in Sydney? Now that was really something she would’ve liked to have known before.

“So, as you’re in town,” he said with a grin, distracting her from her thoughts. “Why not join me? For, say dinner, this Tuesday?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he ran a finger on her hand, reminding her of too many things at once, making her forget what she was going to say.

“Sure,” she said instead, and decided to leave the explanation of the fact that she had a boyfriend for another day.

Later, years later, when she tried to remember (or forget) this meeting…she felt bad – just not bad enough.