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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1750640-Just-like-Old-Times
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1750640
short story about 2 best buddies, their dreams,aspirations,and how time changes everything
I don’t know what woke me up that night.

Must have been the thunder. Or maybe the window which had been thrown open, banging like a wild, angry gorilla against the wall.

I sat upright on my bed. It was raining hard outside. There had been a power failure, and I realized that I was sweating, despite the rain outside.

I was fully awake now. I realized that I needed a smoke.
I got up from my bed, walked to my table, walking blindly in the dark, with only the occasional flash of lightening showing me the familiar route from my bed to the table in the other room.

I swept my hand across the table, groping in the dark for my pack of cigarettes.
My hand brushed against something, and then there was a loud sound, as the empty beer bottle came crashing to the ground and with a shatter broke into a thousand pieces.

“Damn you Avinash !”, I cursed my best buddy. “Couldn't you at least throw away the bottle while going home?” Avinash was my best friend since school days. God somehow managed to keep our destinies intertwined with each other. We were next door neighbors during school days. We stayed together at school, and had our evening adventures and games together.

After that we managed to get into the same Engineering College, and faced the same boring lecturers, copied the same programs from each other during practical, romanced the same girl at college, and lastly somehow managed to get selected in the same company during our campus recruitments in the sixth semester.

We now worked in the same organization. The only difference being that I worked in the day shift, while he had to work during the night hours. So most of the time we never saw each other during the week. It was only during the weekends that we got together, had a few beers, talked about leaving the company, quitting job and leave everything, and go for a long bike trip to the Himalayas.

A year ago Avinash suddenly had this idea of moving to another flat some 5 kilometers away from my place. I don’t remember the reason for his decision exactly, but he did move to a different place. But it was the same story for us like before. We met on weekends, still had the same beer, and still talked about quitting our jobs.
Only now instead of the Himalayas, Avinash wanted to go off to some village, buy a small farm there, and breed honeybees. I never shared his enthusiasm for the ‘Village Idea’, still sticking to my ‘Great Himalayan Odyssey’ plan.

I switched on the screen of my cell phone, for some light. I found my sandals nearby, wore them and walked over the broken glass pieces, back to my table.

I found the pack of cigarettes. I looked inside. It was empty. “Damn it”, I cursed again.
I carefully walked over to the window, which was still banging loudly against the wall.
But instead I walked over to the balcony, suddenly getting excited to watch the rain. I stepped outside. It was raining heavily. And to add to the beauty of the night it was a full moon night. I stood there in the balcony for some time, watching the rain, letting my mind wander (and getting wet in the rain in the process).

My cell phone rang, and I came back to my senses.

I walked back carefully to the table, walking over the broken glasses again.
It was Avinash calling. I picked up the phone.

“Hell….”.
Even before i could say hello, Avinash screamed from the other end, “Ravi, there is someone at the door. Come here quickly”. And he disconnected immediately. He sounded scared and excited.

I grabbed my jacket and my bike keys. I jumped two steps at a time, reached downstairs in record time. I switched on the ignition of my bike. It wouldn’t start. I tried again. No use.

“Come on”, I said, cursed, and tried the kick-start this time. After a few more kicks and a few more curses, my bike started. I put it into gear, and rode away into the night, the steady throbbing of the powerful engine of my Thunderbird breaking the silence of the night.

It was still raining hard, and I had forgotten my helmet in the hurry. The rain hit hard on my face, and I rode keeping my eyes half closed.

The five kilometer journey took me less than four minutes. I was wet to the core by the time I reached Avinash’s bungalow. I had asked him to take a flat in an apartment. If he had listened to me, I wouldn’t have had got wet today, But it was so typical of Avinash to not listen to me. He had rented this crooked house in this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere.

I parked my bike and ran across the ground. I slipped in the mud and fell. I got up. I slipped again. I cursed, and got up. It worked. I didn’t slip this time.

I ran towards Avinash’s door. I couldn’t hear him inside. All the lights were off.

I reached his door. “Avi”, I shouted. No reply. Normally he would shout from inside his room itself. “Wow, it took you such a short time, huh?”, would be his usual sarcastic note.

I was about to bang on his door. Then I noticed two grey eyes staring at me in the dark.

There was another flash of lightning.

I froze. It was a huge animal. Furry,with big ears,large teeth.

I was taken aback. I thought it was a huge wolf from those vampire movies.

And then it barked. And then went back to scratching the door.

I carefully stepped over it, and banged on the door.

“Avi. Open up. Its me. Ravi”.

“Ravi, there’s something at my door”. I heard Avinash’s voice. I was never so relieved to hear that idiot’s voice before.

“It’s only a dog, Avi. Open up”, I shouted.

I heard Avinash’s hesitant footsteps, as he came up to the door, and peered through the half open door. He was holding a frying pan in his hands.

“Look at you”, I said, laughing out loud. “The great Avinash, adventurer and scared of no one, is scared of a stupid dog”.

The dog barked again, its dark green eyes glowing in the dark. My blood froze.

“But I must admit, it is scary”, I said. We both looked at the huge grey wolf-dog.
It wasn’t barking anymore. It ran past us, and entered Avinash’s room.

“Hey, not in my room”, Avinash shouted. But the dog was already on his bed now.

We boiled some milk for the dog. It lapped it up in no time. And we knew it was here to stay.

That’s how we found ‘Wolf’.

I rode back to my place in silence, and more patiently. It took me more than ten minutes this time. I was smiling to myself by the time I got back. I laughed out loud when I remembered the look on my friend’s face when he opened the door, holding that black frying pan in his hands, ready to hit his intruder. But then I was relieved that it was nothing serious, like I had thought.

I parked my bike in the garage, and went up to my room.


There was another loud thunder. I was wet to my core now. I was standing on my balcony.

Another bolt of lightning .I was taken aback .The lights were still off, and i was standing in the dark, wet to the bones.

I walked back into the room. I walked over the broken shreds of glasses again.

I realized I was dreaming. That’s not exactly what you call, when you are dreaming, standing. Yes, I was in suspended animation. My mind was somewhere else, while my body was still here. My brain had left my body, not realizing the body was getting wet.

The lights came back in five minutes. I was still not able to realize what had happened to me just now. I just had the vision of the first time I met Wolf.

I sat down on the chair. As if reading my thoughts, the giant wolf-dog came up to me, and sat down at my feet. I patted its long grey hair.

I thought about Avinash.

I don’t know for how long I sat there.

First thing in the morning I called Avinash’s home.

“Hello”, came the voice at the other end, a broken and shaky voice, unlike my friend’s cheery and happy voice.

“Hello Uncle. It’s me Ravi”, I said.

“Ravi? How are you beta?”, said Avinash’s old father.

“ I am fine Uncle. How are you and Aunty?”, I asked.

“Okay beta”, said the broken voice. “Your Aunty just misses her son a lot, that’s all”.

“And what about you Uncle? You don’t miss him?”

I heard a sniff at the other end, as the old man tried holding back his tears.

“If you had been a father you wouldn’t have asked me this question”, he said trying to put up his strongest voice.
“If only he hadn’t left his job, and gone to that hell”.

I remembered.
Six months ago, Avinash had come up to my place one day, and suddenly announced that he is quitting his job.

I tried talking some reason into him. He had no idea where or what he was going to do. He just knew that he wasn’t ready to die working in a cubicle. “This is not what I was born for” were his heroic words.

I never heard from him again. I heard from his father later that he had gone off to live in some remote village in Jharkhand, some place whose name I still don’t remember.

He had formed an NGO there, and worked for the village people.

After his death I got the rest of the story from his father. He got involved in the local politics. Provoked the wrong kind of people through his social service. Avi had gathered the support of almost everyone in the village, and was trying to show them how to think for themselves, how to live freely, free from oppression. and under the influence of others. I also got from somewhere that my dear friend who was so scared of a dog that night had taken up arms, and was fighting sort of a guerrilla warfare against some people. He had become an obstacle for the ruling party. And just before the elections, they found his bloody body beside the river.

He was slaughtered. My friend was slaughtered. Like a pig.

I heard various versions of his story, some praising his heroics, while some stating what a fool he had been to leave such a wonderful career behind only to meet his end so badly. Some called my friend a Hero, while others said he was a criminal, and got what he deserved.

I had never been able to find out the true version. But one thing I know for sure. He was a friend I had truly valued. He was my brother. A wonderful person. He wasn’t even able to keep Wolf, because he said he was too scary. I don’t understand a person who was so scared could ever pick up arms and harm others.

Whatever others might say, I miss my friend like crazy, and every weekend when I am alone, I wish he would come and jump into my room without announcing, and we would have a wonderful time.
© Copyright 2011 Ashraf_1lastbreath (ashraf2cool at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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