In darkness of night, a man covering his face was sitting
on horse. The horse was stalled by people dancing in front of him, to loud
music and bright lights. It looked like horse was observing the human creatures jumping and bumping, and showing its close connection with monkeys.
Mr. Roller, friend of groom who for some reason was put
up on horse, has put on display why he is named Roller. The dancers were all
born dancers, it was evident from way the dance space was utilized without
hurting anyone, such natural co-ordination, and exchange of partners would have
been any choreographer’s dream.
The formula for such work of art was little far from
venue of display. Mr. Roller, sensing the slip of rhythm made a deft exit from
stage towards one more dose of magic formula. Such was his rhythm on tune that
no one must have noticed that he made a signal to his friend Mr. Weed, for a
recharge break. It was in a car parked
some 50 meters away from holy celebration of marriage. With dropping sweat a
loud grunt came of his mouth when he found the car gate to be locked.
‘Damn lock. Now who has the keys?’
‘Ah! Check your pocket’.
Rumbling in his pockets, finally he got something other
than his own body.
‘Yeah, got it. Must by, Peter I told him not to lock’.
‘Damn, key is not turning’.
‘Ah! Give it me. You are drunk’.
‘Click’, as key
turned and gate opened, light turned on both inside the car and in eyes of
gentlemen.
‘Where is it? What the hell. This must be Peter, he had
it all.’
‘Oh, shit.’
‘Start it now. We will get some more’.
‘Come lets got’.
‘I know one nearby; it will take just 15 minutes’.
As car start on high, getting in par with high state of
two gentlemen; little far away couple of people wave, shouted and ran. But they
were not high enough to get in par with car.
Within 5 minutes, both were walking out with 10 bottles
in 4 hands and smile of infinite length on each face. Though their eyes spotted
the person in police uniform nearby, but ignored it as normal circumstances at
this time of night and place.
As Mr. Roller put the bottles in car, he picked by collar
and put back by the inspector of bulging body. The face he saw was broader than
his view, and eyes so intimidating that what seemed unstoppable energy some 10
minutes before, get into knees and seeped to earth.
‘You drunkard, look at your dare, you stole and came here
to buy more’.
As Mr. Roller opened his mouth, sound of thrashing came
out his body with background sound of breaking bottles from Mr. Weed’s hands.
This was a different music than earlier dancing music, it
acted as a lullaby. When music stopped and Mr. Roller opened his eyes, he out
both of them in prison.
He took him sometime to realize, how the bottles were
missing from car, how Weed has to put his ear to lock and open it with dexterity.
It has taken then one hour to come out with help of his
lawyer and another one hour to make their minds to return to marriage. People
must be searching for them and would ask so many questions, what if they
already knew about the incident.
With face below neck and heart in stomach, they reached
the place again. What they saw, hit them like a bullet breaking time
boundaries. The scene was same as they left, may be shifted in space hardly 50
meters.
Astonishingly, they realized that power punch bottles in
their car has hold fort of human monkeys in front of horse and groom. No one
even, noticed that they were out for 2 hours.
No questions were asked. Only some hands again pulled them
in battlefield with horse. Big relaxed smile on their face, had hidden their
stiff body from everyone’s eyes, and again now hardly swaying a inch their body
looks in perfect rhythm with music. Music went on, dance went on, bottles went
on, everything went on except monk horse.
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