Eating my words, in the true sense

Nakki always had a false sense of superiority. He had made quite a name for himself by fighting for the safety of inmates in hostel bathrooms. He hit his head against the bathroom tap and lost two of his front teeth to showcase the need of safety measure to avoid wet floors in bathrooms. He brought first computer of hostel, with unending supply of movies, B-grade and lower. His room was an unofficial relieving ground for horny men and many believed that he was not sneaking around spying. He was regarded as one among the best, who is an artistic pleasure to look at an intellectual repose to talk to.

Everything was about to change on that fateful day. I found him with his head between Karumadi's legs, literally! Apparently, he was trying to read something from the reverse side of a magazine Karumadi was reading, but one cannot blame anyone who saw the posture getting a different idea. This inspired me to write a short story in which Nakki explains his current antic and prior such experiences to a writer in his own words.

As is my normal practice, the first thing I did was to inform him my wonderful idea to defame him. This usually proves to be a good marketing tactics while effectively ensuring that the innocent acts of humor do not end up in ill-desired consequences, But when he heard about my plan, in a trembling and barely audible voice he requested me not to go ahead with the plan as it will harm his reputation. This is the normal response I get from anyone whom I inform about my plan and, as usual, I declined. For all the talks of avoiding ill-desired consequences, I have always been a fierce advocate of freedom of creativity as well.

One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to look beyond the thorns and find the roses that are hidden within others. I was doing the reverse and this was something I was immensely skilled at (One of the meanest gifts a person can posses?). I immensely enjoyed the moment and was laughing my heart out imagining the frowns he would encounter, explanations he has to provide to restore his reputation and countless times he would have to recount that unfortunate incident to clarify himself, once I publish this story in hostel.

In no time I finished the story, kept it in my drawer and left for snacks. Back in those times, we did not have the luxury of writing stories in Microsoft Word or online blogs: we would write them on paper with ink and circulate the story to the readers. After snacks on my way to my room, I could see Nakki in a lighter mood taking to Pocha and Oolan. Poocha asked me if I had finished the story and that they were all coming over to read it. I said yes and passed a glance at Nakki who ignored me but still got that intriguing smile on his face.

I reached room and opened the drawer. The story was not there. I smelled trouble. With slight manipulation the story can be made into one in which Nakki's character will be replaced by me as nobody knows what really happened. I could see frowns and public explanations waiting for me.... Then I started to get nervous and carried out a series of useless, illogical actions. I smoked a cigarette, sat down, stood up, took a few steps, drank a glass of water, etc. etc. Put in his shoes I could feel the same tension as Nakki. I searched frantically for the story. I was sure that they will keep it somewhere in my drawer and retrieve later in the presence of all.

There it is'...By luck I managed to find it...The story was modified as I doubted. I could hear Poocha's voice from the corridor and I had no time to change the story. What NEXT? In no time, in came Poocha followed by Oolan, Nakki and five others. This was the gang who wanted to unearth the story written by me defaming myself from my own drawer and publish it wherever they could. They searched the room for half an hour but couldn't find the story. I had taken an extreme measure to make sure that they will not find it. How would they find?

I SWALLOWED IT.....