“आज भोलि के भयो, के भयो
कसले कसले हो ..SS मेरी नक्कलीलाई kidnap …”
‘That was a horrible dream. How on earth could I just let the kidnapping incident modify Nepathya‘s song?’
Ever since the message I received from DK, I was having a hard time figuring out a way to travel into my zoned-out universe. Now, it seems that there will never be a way to rescue Nakkali and tell her how I felt about her.
I curse DK!
“Dkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk”, I yell in my study room that is located in the urban suburbs of Pokhara.
“What happened, mate? Did you have a bad dream or something? Every time you doze off at your table when you study, you just yell out and disturb our neighboring cubicle mates. The consequence of which is that we have to maintain the harmony without your involvement,” DK sighed.
“Huh, where am I?”
I looked around and to my surprise, I found myself going back 17 years to the day when I was reading The Time Traveller’s Wife. It sounded paradoxical to the situation I was left in. I knew this room more than any other. The shelves that hung in the walls and my Japanese and Freemasonry names marked on my bookshelf brought back memories. The smile that radiated from Bibek and DK. I stood from my chair and hesitatingly gazed out from the windows. The tranquil radiance that I got from the garden outside my cubicle soothed my nerves and compelled me to search hints for DK’s whereabouts.
|BC24: The shelves, the windows, the chairs, DK and my right hand. Everything time travelled!|
“DK, if you were ever to kidnap a girl, where would you keep her?”, I questioned DK in hopes of leaking some information to his dark side.
“What has gotten into you, Daniel? I would never do such a ridiculous thing!” DK left out slamming the BC24 door open.
“It’s just an ‘if’!” I tried to amend the situation I had blatantly created.
My question brought out tears in his eyes as I had deliberately questioned the credibility to our friendship.
“You shouldn’t have asked that,” Bibek said in a low voice.
I felt ashamed of myself and opened my locker to grab a bottle of water. On the right hand side of the locker, there was the answer.
Eintein’s proof of E=mc2.
‘This is it. The only thing left is to find him.’
* * *
“Is this ’67? I have some unfinished business to settle with him,” I told the man on the receiver about my intentions.
“No, neva known a man with tha’ number. Who is this?”, an old husky voice replied.
“Daniel,” I replied.
“Just an old friend of yours. Now, open the door!”
The man on the inside opened the highly classed door that he himself had developed and patented for $6 million. In his thirties and wearing his usual attire of a lab coat and a shabby dress-up, he looked up to check if anyone else had accompanied me.
“You don’t need to point that gun at me, Dane. I know the reason you came to visit me. Come on in.”
“You haven’t changed, have you Sarthak?”