Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Puppy's Story - Part 1

Hello Baby,

Oooh! You sent me a story! That was so thoughtful of you! I LOVE stories. In fact, since you took the trouble to type out a (part of a) long story for me, I'm going to return the favour. However, since I am only a puppy and my unevolved, canine brain is incapable of deep, philosophical thought, I will type out a racy detective story for you. This is the first part from one of those books that your mom, Dr. (Mrs.) Iyengar likes to read in her spare time. She even reads to me once in a while.

So here goes:

Chapter 1: In the Beginning, There Was Optimism

6.11 am, an undisclosed residential area of Madras City

Beep beep, beep beep, beep beep, click.

"Hello, you've reached the answering machine of Inspector Kann. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you."


"Inspector Kann, this is Sub Inspector Mani. Call me back as soon as possible. There's been a murder."


Inspector Kann stirred. "Why do they always call when I'm having the best dreams?" he thought to himself and sat up in bed. Inspector Rajni Kann was not a tall man - about 5' 9" in his shoes, but he was, in the eyes of his subordinates and all that dared oppose him, a towering giant. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he inspired awe in his colleagues and struck fear in the hearts of criminals who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

Kann quickly showered and dressed himself, pausing for maybe a couple of extra seconds at the bathroom mirror to admire his “Policeman” moustache. “What’s the point of being a policeman if you don’t have a good moustache?” he would say to people who asked him about it. “Indeed, a vital part of a good Policeman’s image is his moustache. Without it, he might as well be a software developer or something equally mundane”.

He had to call Mani. A murder was Serious Business and it was not often that he had the opportunity to deal with Serious Business.

“Mani, where?”

“Good morning sir!”

“Drop the pleasantries and answer my question”

East Coast Road, sir. You’ll see my jeep…”

Kann hung up abruptly. He was not one for chit-chat. Also, he did not like paying his cellular phone bill. His detractors did not believe this was coincidence. He closed the door of his 3rd floor apartment behind him and ran down the stairs. Kann walked outside the complex to his car – an old, second-hand Honda City that he appropriated from a gangster who was now in jail. He didn’t like traveling by the police jeeps; “It makes me feel like I’m in a moving cage. I’m not an animal on display, you know? I’d much rather be in my own car”. He entered the car and turned the key in the ignition. The car came to life with a quiet growl.

After two minutes of meditative inaction, Kann sped out of his apartment complex to the crime scene.

To be continued…

Hope you enjoy it,

Puppy Manohar.

K9 Unit – sniffa dog 4eva!!!11one

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