Parody Post

PART ONE: THE NEED. 1. "Go to hell!"   If God ever gave Niti a chance to turn back the time, to revisit that goddamn meeting with her friend in that goddamn hotel where her friend had asked her if she were interested in a part-time job, then Niti would have told her: "Go to hell!"   Of course, God never gave her that chance. So, Niti accepted the offer that sealed her fate. When she took the job and finally got acquainted with the real terror, Niti Shetty was nineteen.    But before the job, before the meeting, came the goddamn scooter. 2. The leaden sky was filled with the streaks of pink clouds. The Sun had almost dipped itself into some unknown ocean. Niti, worn out by the days’ worth of play, mounted her ramshackle scooter that looked as ancient as the earth itself, its maroon paint faded and chrome parts all rusted. She put on her helmet and stared at the silhouetted facade and then around the college-yard that was filled...

PROLOGUE It was nearing midnight. Jorganso didn't like the way things had gone. Their attack had failed, and to make the matter worse, he had lost his way in the dark, baleful forest with silence so loud that it disquieted him.   He was the only one who had survived the retaliatory attack full of vehemence and gore, but thankfully he still had the special delivery with him: the package that would have changed the course of the battle—if they had gotten the chance of using it. But they didn’t, and now the thing inside his red backpack was his highest priority.    “I'll have to take it back into the city,” Jorganso told himself as he hurried through damp, mist-covered floor, his eyes squinting in darkness.    He fumbled around the trunk of a vast tree, which suddenly loomed out of darkness, narrowly dodged its low hanging branch, stumbled over its gnarled root, lost his balance, somehow stopped the fall and resumed his run. The forest was cloaked in fog, and...

The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and it brought a smile on the face of a girl, who stood amidst the vacant room. This girl was twenty-five and her name was Radhika. The smile didn't radiate smugness. Instead, it represented ruefulness and sorrow mixed with peace. She walked over to a window from where the sun rays slanted in and poured on the linoleum floor. The view of the Mumbai city was exhilarating. 'How is it?' asked another girl, who was standing by the door with her arm crossed in front of her chest, smiling a proud smile. Her name was Sara, she was twenty-six. 'It is brilliant,' intoned Radhika, 'I just love it!' Her voice echoed across the hall. 'I knew you'll love it, ' said Sara, 'that's why I got it all repainted.' She began walking into the hall toward the window where Radhika stood. 'I don't know how to thank you and your dad.' Sara snorted. 'Don't you worry about...