RAP(A)-ism ─Anirban Nanda


Disclaimer:

*Offensive contents may be found.
*It’s a fiction; so are the names.
*No offense intended to any particular person or group or organization.


Year 2020:

He settles himself on the reading desk and opens his laptop which is also called ‘Whackbook’. Renowned-and-popular-author or RAPA is his name, which according to him, is one of the honourable and elite names for someone to be called. Pushing the power button has woken up the electronically advanced, multipurpose, 10 gigahertz core driven and rareOS loaded scientific machine. A bunch of glowing grapes ─which is not bitten─ has glorified the backside of the stylish and glamorous technical masterpiece. Opening his facebook account he sees 100 new notifications and 50 new friend requests. But I was only offline for three hours. He has thought. Then he has stretched his arms yawning in his comfortable chair and closed his eyes. How popular I am! I am the RAPA. He’s then come closer to his whackbook and saw the deadline. Today is the last day for the national level literary contest organised by TALE; The Association of Literary Elites. I must hurry. Then he has placed his hands on his temples and concentrated for few minutes. The short story must be a masterpiece. The prize money is big. It has to be dark and gruesome. People like negative topics.

He has thought for a long time and then started typing the story. This story would be awesome ─acid on face combined with rape. It is the darkest possible story I can write. He’s typed and typed; for hours. After three hours, he has looked at the 5000 word-long story and smiled.

After 15 days:

RAPA updates a status:

Just saw the announcement of the winners in the nationwide competition organised by TALE. And guess what…I WON THE FIRST PRIZE! Thank you so much for your support and likes. Go to the following link to read my story named Dark Life of a Girl. (www.tale.org/contest/dark-life-of-a-girl)

─feeling happy 🙂 .

After updating the status, he has gone to bed and merged himself in the softness of deep slumber.

Few blocks away from RAPA’s house; Dr. Samson Saha (sometimes mocked as Savior in Satan because he charges big for treatment) just has returned from his long day’s work. He’s refreshed himself and watching his watch ticking 2.00AM he has gone to bedroom to join his wife. His wife rarely has the opportunity to watch her husband dine with their family and so she has got used to such routines. Samson enters and smiles at his sleeping wife and then has unhinged the nightgown and walked towards the bed.

Ting Tang Ti Ting! His cell is buzzing. He reluctantly has taken out the phone and stared at the number. It is from emergency department in the government hospital nearby. His wife has woken up and looked at him with half opened eyes. Samson has picked up the phone gazing at his wife. From the other side the voice speaks, “Doctor sa’ab, a girl is just admitted on reference from the local hospital. You have to come now. Someone has thrown acid on her face. Please sir, come quickly.” Samson has cut the phone and looked at his wife tiredly. Wife nods at him understandingly and says, “Go save the girl.”

Ting! Another ‘like’ has buzzed in RAPA’s phone.

MORAL: Writing to stop tortures on women is same as writing “Smoking kills” in a cigarette packet.

©Anirban Nanda

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