Thursday, May 19, 2011

God's Advocate



In the heart of Topsy-Turvydom, Right for all the right and wrong reasons was reared by his liberal mother and liberal father (he lied about being that) up until eight being taught the yays and the nays (they disagreed on the contrasts) but taught himself then on through the underground periodicals that he hid under his bed (both agreed on its invisibility to naked eyes) and pulled himself through the tunnel of education in flying rags of collars (both lied about it saying it was ♪ ragas ♪ and colors). The effect of growing up however dizzying was rather satisfying for he had (rather thought he had) a purpose in life and anticipated his first interview in sheer glee (not without a bit of nervousness) for the position of yet another Devil's Advocate. The City lately had an explosion of factories because the other Cities but also ployed to keep themselves green as possible as the underground movement put it or were not only benevolent enough to let us progress as the upper-ground movement put it. The specialty he chose to master himself in had in it all the tools that could shape a morally uptight world to a morally upright one, or so he thought (meaning only well).


He applied Steam Cel on his trimmed hair, Stun You on his face; wore Shoot Me for a shirt, Smiley for a toy that ran from his neck to his incomplete belly, Pull Me for a trouser, Stamp Me for shoes (the rest they won't tell even if they knew). Thus attired, he was all too composed for the impending interview. He had a short videoconference against his jubilant parents (he lived a little away to be close to them) during the full ten minutes of which they wished him well to an extent he had a feeling of having bathed deep in a Wish Well and near the end of it his father was all misty-eyed and mother smiles and pride. Between his ride from his abode to the Interview Chamber, on his roller-skater two ends attached to a remote-controlled Tie Car and one from there to him, is the only time to mention that Right was like a girl when comes to commitment in that he thought a girl would keep him from his climbing the ladder of profession though everyone around was quitting jobs and dropping out of college to wed. He had a way of his own in acknowledging status quo; he said it is pop vulture (certainly not meaning well).

He placed his vehicle in the locker and approached the entrance and for whatever the reason exposed his right eye to the scanner on the side instead of- The door alarm triggered through this action of his won't stop itself from blaring which brought the security to his toes who before a blink shot the Truth Serum into Right's right leg that provoked Right to scream in half agony my right pinkie after which the man in the uniform apologized and retreated to his seat. This behavior of his need not be all that surprising because there was another instance, perhaps at an auditorium entrance, where he tried it with his middle finger (he's only too ex-peri-mental) and began telling mysterious facts about his associates Tops and Turve (mostly upon their own provocation) for which they almost booked him under perjury and soon he began contradicting his own statements. Right now having gained his faculties, it takes only thirty seconds and a shout, came to the scanner and exposed his little finger which for obvious reasons looked like crowbar-proofed, and it was, except for its prints (the Finger Snatchers were growing in number) and tightened his toy and let himself through the door. The Chamber is in the eleventh floor and it's the twelfth on the right, Sir said the receptionist whose joystick-converted fingers quivered as she pointed to the elevator.

He found himself in front of the interviewer who it seemed to have lived half his century inside a machine, his humanly manners notwithstanding. The mosquito that couldn't sleep the day, Right later referred to it as that little vampire, came out of nowhere (for Right) and out of boredom (for the fly) as he began to say good noon, bit him on the side of his forehead so he stopped at goo and scratched his forehead which to the big man opposite looked like a salute that startled him out of his wits but that was only a moment for Right gathered himself back in no time and brought his hands together and made a namaste and completed his wishing which the man acknowledged with a good noon and be seated. The little vampire in question annoyed by its denial of space not wanting to lose hope flew a half circle and found a similar spot on the man's and this time around he startled himself with his own repetition of a witnessed action which put Right at ease at once. You may brief me about yourself, young man began the interviewer. What he replied to this query isn't of primary importance. The reader knows, in the absent record of what he did say, what s/he he/shelf would say in such a situation and what he didn't say was whatever can be said from the aforementioned (the serum wears off in five minutes).

The interviewer who is appointed by the City Council – though he held this post beyond his retirement age, he looked young when he swallowed a particular fish every morning – was a reasonable man with respect to intellect and manners and looked affirmative to Right on his briefing. You have an extraordinary portfolio too he said perusing through his ourPapers. Let's get to the rest, mister, he said, the one question you must answer with a pride of having invented the very question, argue the pros of swordfish serum production in an effort to enhance the thrill of underwater human chase games. Hearing the challenge, rather the twist of it, had Right on the edge of his sanity (he was sane only when it's least expected). Had he heard it in a non-air-conditioned Chamber, he would have bathed himself in sweat. Here it only shook his guts off and put him in a suspended sacrificial altar with his head on it and neck below hung down. Hell of a way to ask an un-question and what is it but conning of the con he thought but brought himself to argue it as originally as he can and added yet it may be a nonstarter to ensure he isn't given a go at it. Though he halfheartedly apologized for his pessimism toward the end of it all, as he wished, the big man gave him a fairly done but negative. When I go out the sky must be down and the land up he thought.

On his way back to his place, he saw the same beggar on a roller to whom he didn't pay any attention to at the time. He paused by and gave him his vRead thinking he may not read but he can sell it for a few bucks and eat a few mouthfuls but contrary to Right's assertion this man read a few stories from it before selling it and began telling them to fellow souls and it turned out one day as Right was halted by a little red man as zebras crossed a boy holding a little girl on his shoulder asked a few bucks for a story which he would later refer to as some revival of folktales. It seems early to shed light on the turning of a table but what happened that puzzled Right to the end of his ride back happened at a period he was most ignorant of the status quo. He learned all that he ever needed to learn, he thought, in his very first year to a degree he felt the second year to be a boredom and third year he was either found missing or writing his Treatise Concerning Wordfares. It took him the long ride back home to realize that the world began spinning in the opposite direction when he took that extra nap of his life, and found that he arrived at his parent's instead of his and rode at once to his not prepared to face them yet. He became so ashamed of himself, it showed, he began riding on the pedestrian platform absent-mindedly.

Right pushed his 12-wheeler into his backpack, too much road skiing can be weary, and began walking the last mile for want of a little warmup and fresh air. Upon his arrival, he saw what looked like two bullies trying to break and enter into his place and Right had a smile on his face when he realized it was Tops and Turve. Turve who is a cop was demonstrating to Tops who is a lawyer how impossible in practice the burglary in the neighborhood last week was and why it was only possible the landlord feigned it. Although Right smiled it soon became obvious to them there was something sad about it. Turve said I see a disastrous Chamber visit and Tops said I see a scratched mosquito bite. They sat on the portico railing as Right narrated the events and where his arrogance is bliss attitude got him. The world never ran the same, said Tops, it has and always had a funny good weirdness to it and now it's all down to questions unaskedI may have a solution, said Turve, think it through, it seems you can run for the God's Advocate now with the same expertise. Right felt a candle light up in his head and the breeze that blew the leaves around made that light in his head glow brighter.







2 comments:

  1. this one i have to say, is intelligently funny, and there are some matter-of-fact moments, and some not-so-inconspicuos references which are almost like raisins in a plum-cake.The anti-climactic twist in the story is unpredictable and teasing; especially after going through such convoluted lines of thought.The style of the narrative is definitely Indian, almost to the extent of being parodic, and you somehow manage to combine maturity and child-like simplicity in the same piece.Worth a re-read!

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  2.  Nishkam Razdan 

    Saying, after everything you've said, it merits a reread...there cannot be a warmer praise.

    Thanks for reading it like you do. 

    ReplyDelete

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