Cost of Wicky’s Mood Swing – A Short Story!

{The feature image is mine – Pixelated for fun!}

So then, not like everyday, Wicky is driving his bike very carefully. He isn’t always cautious while he drives. No. He is very reckless. That’s what his friend Kiran often disapproves. Kiran doesn’t like Wicky driving recklessly, but Wicky doesn’t care. Kiran too isn’t worrying about Wicky’s life; he is scared to death that he will die when he is on Wicky’s bike. Wicky already once almost killed Kiran on a highway, but yes, it’s not completly Wicky’s mistake.

This particular day, Wicky is not in good spirits. God knows why. I too don’t care why he is sad. I am not a psychoanalyst. I am a storyteller, but that makes me a semi-psychoanalyst, yes. Wicky’s sadness is never dependant on external issues. No. He is seldom affected by something which happens outside. He would be really happy when someone talks good about him, but seldom would he care of someone scorns at him. People say that’s why he changes never! When people scorn at you, you ought to understand why they are scorning and change it within you. Then people will love you. May be!

When he is sad, Wicky talks less, just like most of the humans. The rest talk too much, just like the girl whom Wicky is missing at the moment. She talks a lot when she is sad. Wicky would ask why she is hurrying in her talks, she’d say she isn’t hurrying, but she is. Both of them knows it. She is frightened of many things. He knows it. But what the things are, he never knows. This day, Wicky isn’t much interested in talking. He has been talking a lot since a few days, which he thought would help him, but it just is making him realise how sick he really is. Knowing how sick one is makes them sick. No one ought to know it. Not frail hearts at least.

Wicky asked his family not to disturb him for the day and came out with his father’s bike. His bike is with his friend. If he ask his bike back, he has to answer him where he wants to go, or take that friend with him. Wicky doesn’t want to do that. Wicky wants to be peaceful, which he knows can be attained when you face no stress from the outside. He neatly took his father’s bike and consciously leaving his purse back at home he started driving. He thought of police stopping him and demanding him to show his licence. He wouldn’t have shown it without a purse. But Wicky never really cared about anything. No. Not a thing. Except that girl. That girl who wouldn’t say bye properly. That girl doesn’t know how to say good bye. She doesn’t know types of good bye. Wicky knows them all. Wicky knows types in everything.

So Wicky, without a purse, but with two fifty rupee notes in pocket, started to the house of the girl. The girl who talks too much when she is sad. He wanted to meet her: Meet her for the last time.

So then, not like everyday, Wicky is driving his bike very carefully. He isn’t always cautious while he drives. No. He is very reckless. That’s what his friend Kiran often disapproves. Kiran doesn’t like Wicky driving recklessly, but Wicky doesn’t care. Kiran too isn’t worrying about Wicky’s life; he is scared to death that he will die when he is on Wicky’s bike. Wicky already once almost killed Kiran on a highway, but yes, it’s not completly Wicky’s mistake.

When Wicky is half the way to get house, he suddenly remembered that her father would be at her house on a Sunday. Her father. He never goes to her home or to her when her father is around. I don’t know why. I can’t study everything to write a boring short-story! But then he didn’t want to go to her. But he wanted to go. He wanted to stay actually. With her. Or something like that. But then, he is afraid her father might get angy on her. So he took a diversion and ride towards the Godavari ghat which is near by.

Wicky always liked the Godavari. It is Ganga itself for him. Ganga is Wicky’s everything, for he is a devotee of Shiva, whom he thinks can reach through the waters of Ganga. Wicky is riding peacefully. Then he took a turn. After a couple of turns, he’d be before Godavari, his place to dwell, but then, at a corner, he saw the police stopping bikes and checking records. Wicky doesn’t carry records. Wicky doesn’t wear a helmet. Wicky doesn’t care money. No.

Wicky can turn his bike back and go in another route. He didn’t. He is feeling heavy that he isn’t able to meet the girl who talks too much when she gets upset. He wanted to listen her talking and he wanted to talk to her. He didn’t want to turn the bike. He wanted to challenge the police. He drove right towards them. He stopped without them asking him to. The head of the force was glaring at him. Wicky’s face is sad. He tried to smile. It turned awkward.

“Why are you laughing, take out the record,” the police barked.

Wicky shook his head in denial, “I don’t have any,” he said in a low tone.

“Nothing?” The police seemed surprised. He is waiting for Wicky to fightback or bend low. But Wicky didn’t do anything. He was just sad. “The bill would be 700,” police said. The police is expecting Wicky to bargain and then go for a bribe of 150rs. Wicky wanted to bribe and bargain. But Wicky didn’t want to talk. So, he stayed silent. “Seven hundred rupees,” another police said, trying to put some sense in Wicky’s head, probing him to bribe.

“Oh,” Wicky said. Wicky wanted to bargain. But he doesn’t want to talk. “Okay,” Wicky said, enraging the police. The police laid the fine of 735rs and Wicky left. Wicky should pay it online. Wicky’s dad got money. It’s not a big deal. But Wicky was wondering why he should pay fine to go to his favourite place on his own bike when he isn’t even driving rash or hurting someone. “They are demanding us to carry things which we might not want to,” he murmured and drove towards Godavari. Everything is conditioning humans, Wicky didn’t like it. But more than that, he isn’t going to meet her, he didn’t like it at all.

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