...and the sun rose

The writer's block hits the best of us. While the many who expressed their anguish at my silence moved my heart, it is the few who expressed gratitude for not insulting their sanity which drove me to action.

Source: http://www.gocomics.com/calvinandhobbes/1995/03/03

This below is a short story for children, I wrote during my student days on the theme, "and the sun rose". If this does not give you your dose of madness, I don't know what will,

I was sitting in my favourite couch at home watching Sachin and Sehwag making mince meat out of Glen McGrath, when the Mysore bonda which I was about to put in my mouth suddenly started screaming in a little girl’s voice, "Aaaa…"

I got up with a start only to realise that though the bonda had been a dream, the scream was real enough. The voice seemed to be that of Shania Lee, the youngest among the inter-continental group of nine students on a world tour organised by the United Nations for spreading unity and peace. Tonight was a full moon night and we were spending it in a camp on the woods of Arizona.

The whole camp had been awakened by the terrifying sound. After a quick consultation, we were informed by our local guide that though the woods were generally harmless, it was occasionally visited by jackals. We immediately formed a team of three:

·         Richard Goodwin: Experienced in handling tranquiliser guns in the South African safaris, where his father is a ranger.

·         Jim Crowe: A medical student from Australia

·         Swaminathan Krishnan(me): Head of the group. Management student from India.

We proceeded in the direction of the sound, Richard with his tranquiliser and Jim with his first aid kit and a whip which he was an expert handling. I had a dagger with me to be used in case of a close encounter and a siren for distress signalling.

Since we were on a peace mission, we had taken a resolve not to voluntarily hurt or kill any creature unless absolutely necessary. We had in fact even taken a oath of vegetarianism, however, not without much protest. That was why Jim was surprised to see Richard armed with what he thought was a rifle. “Ooo...” Jim exclaimed, “whazzat?” “Thiz iz a bazzzooka”, kidded Richard.

“Oooooooooooooooo……..” came the sound again but his time not from Jim but by “it”. It was it. I do not know how else I could describe it. It had a canine face with a lot of hair in its head but with a body totally devoid of fur. It had no tail and one of its forelegs had a red band on it.

As Richard was about to tranquilize it, Jim came running in the way, pointing frantically all the time at some thing. Unfortunately Richards dart pierced Jim on his arm and he fell down in deep slumber. As I was staring at this spectacle with starry eyes, “it” jumped on top of my head knocking me down and went along to attack poor Richard. “It” was just about to bite his neck when I pressed the siren. The siren scared “it” away. We together carried the unconscious Jim with us and were met midway by the rest of our group sans Shania whose whereabouts where still unknown.

At the break of dawn, Shania arrived at the camp with tattered clothes and dishevelled hair. Our psychology student, Mary Elizabeth immediately ran to her and embraced her. I was stunned when I noticed Shania’s finger nails slowly becoming smaller and the red band in her right arm. I silently moved away from there.

Jim just then came back to consciousness and told me, “You understood why I tried to stop him right, the werewolf was…”. I pressed his hands and nodded my head in understanding. I just put my finger on his lips and said, “Shhh…”.

…and the sun rose.

Who am I kidding? We all know the "inspiration" to this right? R.I.P M.J., even on full moon nights!