I have not slept well for the past one week. Late nights in office. Euro cup. The arrival of a new carrom board. Well, had to blame something. Then there are these street dogs. Their gang wars. Their standing guard of the territories. Their congress. The barks. The screeches. The yelps. The howls. I want a relief from these tossing, weary, torturing, long restless insomnious nights.
It was a full moon day. The street lamp outside was fluttering as always. Partly the voltage is to blame, partly the loose connection. I had an altogether bad day in office. Worser still, the team I had stakes on lost. I could not sleep well as the irritation was still itching. Itching hard. I could not bear when the ferals started all their notorious activities. I decided this must be it. I had to put an end to it.
Disclaimer 1: The narration below is has violent content. Pregnant women and those with weak hearts are advised not to peep in.
I plunged out of my bed. On my way down the stairs I picked a crow-bar and a knife from the kitchen. A sabre like. I smashed the door on my back and stepped in to the alley. A black dog came charging towards me. I withdrew the sabre from the scabbard and plunged into the chest of that crazy dog. It yapped and fell still with a thud. Thick red blood dripped from the sabre. Then a husky attacked fom my side. My remarkably quick blow was on target but the sabre penetrated so deep that I had to get hold of my crow-bar to protect myself from the approaching canines. There were four of them, snarling at me. I held the crow-bar horizontal to the ground, gripping with both my hands. They slowed down. Snarling still, they followed cautiously the semi circular path I was making, to make sure am not encircled from all sides. Am alone. They are many. At an opportune moment, I swung hard and real quick, the crow-bar at the stupendous four. I heard the skull cracking of the first one. The pointed edge slashed the throat of the second and sent the other two flying in the air. The two fell at a distance and was so injured that they could barely stand. I approached those yelping creatures with the war cry of the Yeehats. I got hold of one by its hind limbs and smashed against the lamp post. It was such a strong blow, the post was set vacillating. The flickering lamp went off. I could feel the frightened eyes of the one left staring at me. I grabbed him too by the hind limbs and banged him on the sharp and pointed edges of the gate. The head half of him tearing apart and falling on the other side of the gate. I threw the half left in mine to a distance. I gave out a rallying cry.
"Who wants a fight??"
"Anybody left??"
But to my dismay, I found packs of tens rushing towards me. I stood with my back against the lamp post. When they neared me, every sound died out in my horribly loud battle cry. The inevitable annihilation was carried out with ferocity and vehemence. I found myself surrounded by knee deep carcasses of the sons of bitches. The blood seemed more thick and dark in the moonlight. The blood smeared all over, I gave one final outcry.
"Who wants more??"
I could hear a pin drop. I raised my hands in vociferous eruption. I slammed my blood smeared hands against the post. A steady light started glowing. I could see the two piercing eyes staring at me from the posters in the walls behind. Those inquistive pair were of "Badi Memsaab's".
"Well, Clarice - have the dogs stopped screaming?", a calm, soporific yet impertinent stern voice asked me.
"Am not Clarice", I started scornfully without realising it was to Dr. Hannibal Lecter that I was talking. But when that fact dawned on me, I was about to reconciliate by answering to his question by a smiling 'Yes', but some yelps and barking stopped me from doing that.
I opened my eyes irritatingly to the howls. The street light was still flickering out in the alley.
Disclaimer 2: No animals were harmed during the complete course when the incidents unfolded. Any animal found dead in my locality should be strictly attributed to its insensible crossing of the roads.
Disclaimer 3: The dogs in the recounting are strictly fictional. Those resembling any living or dead are strictly coincidental.
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