Out of the city

All Vidyut wanted to do was stay glued to the TV and watch cricket. But there he was, in a cab, driving through the busy streets.

January 19, 2017 12:57 pm | Updated 12:57 pm IST

That weekend brought another bolt out of the blue. Vidyut, who had been expecting to spend Saturday watching a rerun of Karun Nair’s phenomenal triple century, groaned with disappointment when his mother stalked into his bedroom and pulled the iPhone from his hands.

“Get dressed and come out,” she ordered. “The cab’s waiting.”

“Ma...it’s only 7.30! Too early...”

Driving on

“Not early enough for you to watch cricket matches on your phone. I thought I told you not to be glued to this thing?”

Suddenly, Vidyut remembered that his mother was still in the dark about his science marks. He hadn’t mustered up the courage to tell her, or that his teacher had asked for a meeting and that he had to get his parents to sign ...

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he said.

Three hours later, they were on their way, having stopped off at an ATM...no cash... and then at the bank, collecting what little money they could and then on the road that led out of Chennai. Vidyut gazed sleepily at the traffic — lorries trundling by; bikes whizzing at top speed. He had never been out anywhere at this hour. He stared at a signboard saying Koyambedu — now, where had he heard that name?

“It’s where we have our wholesale market,” Ma said.

“Also the Mofussil Bus Terminus — you know, when people need to go out of Chennai, this is where they board buses,” said the driver.

“I know all that ,” Vidyut hunched his shoulders, wishing he could talk to Arjun, who was probably still snoozing. “When is Appa joining us?”

For the first time, the smile was wiped off his mother’s cheerful face. “He’s not. Too busy.”

Vidyut subsided into silence. The road went on and on and he found his eyes closing, as the cab rocked gently, brushing past traffic.

“There’s Vandalur,” Mother said quietly, and he sat up at once.

“Arig...Arignar Anna Zoological Park,” he spelled out the sparkling letters. “Ma, what’s Arig-nar ?”

“It’s pronounced Aringnyar ,” she corrected him. “It means a great man, a learned man, in Tamil. And no, we’re not here to see the zoo.”

“Why else, then?”

“To meet him .”

The cab stopped. Vidyut stared, as a man clad in gleaming white shirt and veshti detached himself from a tree, and began walking towards them. Suddenly, the man staggered and fell sprawling on the road, rolling into a ditch!

0 / 0
Sign in to unlock member-only benefits!
  • Access 10 free stories every month
  • Save stories to read later
  • Access to comment on every story
  • Sign-up/manage your newsletter subscriptions with a single click
  • Get notified by email for early access to discounts & offers on our products
Sign in

Comments

Comments have to be in English, and in full sentences. They cannot be abusive or personal. Please abide by our community guidelines for posting your comments.

We have migrated to a new commenting platform. If you are already a registered user of The Hindu and logged in, you may continue to engage with our articles. If you do not have an account please register and login to post comments. Users can access their older comments by logging into their accounts on Vuukle.