DAY 376, MARCH 2008
TIME: 7 a.m.
The sun’s finally out. I think it’s safe to venture out of my hiding. The infected species must be exhausted, they will be resting now. It’s been like this for the last 375 days. I have lost hope. I feel I am the last survivor in my world.
I walk through the lanes where it all began. A massive crowd had gathered in this structure, called the Open Air Theatre (O.A.T). They were misled by an event called ‘Ragam’ that was supposed to begin that night. I was among the fortunate few not to know about it. When it began, all I remember were these super-charged hyper-energized creatures, every movement of theirs dance-like, running berserk, calling out to those uninfected to experience the ultimate. I shut myself from all the fervor, which was fast spreading into an epidemic. I stepped out only by the next morning, same like today. Out of curiosity (which till today lurks in me) to know what transformed the humans, I walked through these very lanes. The place was breathtaking; every building along the path standing out in its own superb decoration. Capping it all was an astonishing work of art at the Main Block circle. Something seemed to relate them; I guess it was ‘Games of Chance’, getting this idea from a caption on a poster, saying ‘where the die rolls seven’. I remember seeing many stalls strewn here and there, billboards of big-shot sponsors and an ‘Informals’ stage (this was to be noisiest place for the upcoming days). After a couple of hours, all of a sudden I heard voices…announcements regarding the commencement of events, and I noticed a ob approaching from a distance. I fled back to my hiding.
I got out the following morning, and this time I saw beautiful rangolis, striking clay models, classy pencil-sketches and paintings, interesting cartoons, elegant vegetable-carvings amd what not. What drove these people to do all this? That very night, loud music resounded from the O.A.T like never before, as if a high-profile entertainer was on song. I took all precautions to isolate my ears from the sound and save myself from the highly infectious disease. After three days, the activity died down. But afraid of what to expect, I have living like this for all the while. I am tired of this lethargic life. But wait! What do I see now? There’s a new caption hanging here. It says ‘my muse, my canvas’. Oh! The MB circle looks grand with coloured blocks; this whole place has been decorated again. I am mustering up all my courage to conquer my urge to know the truth…I am going to get out tonight and see for it all by myself. I am the last…mankind will ever see.
I walk through the lanes where it all began. A massive crowd had gathered in this structure, called the Open Air Theatre (O.A.T). They were misled by an event called ‘Ragam’ that was supposed to begin that night. I was among the fortunate few not to know about it. When it began, all I remember were these super-charged hyper-energized creatures, every movement of theirs dance-like, running berserk, calling out to those uninfected to experience the ultimate. I shut myself from all the fervor, which was fast spreading into an epidemic. I stepped out only by the next morning, same like today. Out of curiosity (which till today lurks in me) to know what transformed the humans, I walked through these very lanes. The place was breathtaking; every building along the path standing out in its own superb decoration. Capping it all was an astonishing work of art at the Main Block circle. Something seemed to relate them; I guess it was ‘Games of Chance’, getting this idea from a caption on a poster, saying ‘where the die rolls seven’. I remember seeing many stalls strewn here and there, billboards of big-shot sponsors and an ‘Informals’ stage (this was to be noisiest place for the upcoming days). After a couple of hours, all of a sudden I heard voices…announcements regarding the commencement of events, and I noticed a ob approaching from a distance. I fled back to my hiding.
I got out the following morning, and this time I saw beautiful rangolis, striking clay models, classy pencil-sketches and paintings, interesting cartoons, elegant vegetable-carvings amd what not. What drove these people to do all this? That very night, loud music resounded from the O.A.T like never before, as if a high-profile entertainer was on song. I took all precautions to isolate my ears from the sound and save myself from the highly infectious disease. After three days, the activity died down. But afraid of what to expect, I have living like this for all the while. I am tired of this lethargic life. But wait! What do I see now? There’s a new caption hanging here. It says ‘my muse, my canvas’. Oh! The MB circle looks grand with coloured blocks; this whole place has been decorated again. I am mustering up all my courage to conquer my urge to know the truth…I am going to get out tonight and see for it all by myself. I am the last…mankind will ever see.
TIME: 6 p.m.
Here I am in the O.A.T, all ready to face the worst. The music has begun to flow; there are scores of them rushing in. oh my, what’s happening to me? My feet are getting into the groove, my body is moving fanatically. I am freaking out. I know I am infected with the virus. The ‘Ragam’ virus…
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