The Inspiration

The Inspiration

11:00 am Monday, April 15, 2013

On the basement of the single-family home in the dimly lit corner room, three tall shadows lurked around, murmured and sighed in exasperation. The upholstered drapes on the aperture frames shielded the sunny exterior environment; from the reticent interiors. The research work exhausted their brains. Presently, they have a humongous assignment to complete before the deadline. Time was precious; it was moving fast. 

The lanky guy continually downloaded the files from the internet to his personal computer. Bales of documents strewn on the cluttered desk to be analyzed and investigated. 

The demure chap, similar in looks but slighter in build than the computer lad; paced across the room; peeped through the slender cranny in between the curtains and stated, “It’s a lovely warm morning. A suitable day, for a long jog. All’s fine within the perimeter. We will enjoy our game, under the midday sun, Doky.” 

The computer boy, Doky responded, “Okay. Take this and give it to Sammy.” He gathered the stacks of print-outs of a magazine and passed them over. His round pate bent, and turquoise-blue eyes, fixated intensely onto the system.  

The pot-bellied Sammy drained with the designing and manoeuvring, straightened his arched position from the floor-level, removed his jacket, adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his small nose, and with ferret-like eyes, focussed on the devices. He raised his beefy hand to accept the hard copies and proclaimed, “Thanks, Tamer. Hope our innovations see the light of day.”

Doky clinched his lean fist and moaned, “I hope so, college starts next week; after the Spring break.” 

Tamer instantly quipped, “Let us all pray and be optimistic.” 

There was a rustling sound outside the room, soon followed by a thump on the closed door. Alert, three pairs of distinct, coloured eyes centred on the shut door. With forefingers on their beardless curved lips; they signalled one another to be quiet. Then another firm knock. The cramped room preserved a pin-drop silence. The heavy footsteps receded up the stairs, after a while.

“Mom was checking on us,” Tamer muttered. 

A few minutes later, some cars pulled up in the driveway; and voices heard. Tamer was as fast as lightning. He carefully positioned himself behind the screen and peered through the creeks of the panes. 

“Your friends came enquiring about you, Doky, but Mom said that you were not at home.” Tamer relayed the information in a murmured tone. 

The echoes outside faded after a brief conversation. “Good. They have left. I do not want any disturbance whilst I concentrate on my important analysis,” Doky hissed. Sometime afterwards, the securing shutters of the garage floated from outside. “Mom has left for work now.” He declared as he turned around from the system.  

“Should I run upstairs and get us some snacks and drinks?” Tamer asked Doky. “Mom must have left some for us on the kitchen counter.”  

With a terse negation, Doky scanned the time and calculated the hours left to complete their job in hand. He stretched his arms, gulped the water from the bottle, and peeked at the progress of Sammy.

Tamer noted the actions and demands of Doky, attentively, though the trio has not slept the entire night.


11:30 am Monday, April 15, 2013

Tamer glanced through the print-outs of the magazine lying on the floor. “Pass me the yellow wire along with the nails.” Tamer attended to the instructions of Sammy and backed up his orders with the remaining paraphernalia. His greyish eyes keenly observed the artistic craft of Sammy. 

Doky hastily jotted down some tips from the computer and read aloud to Sammy, who agreed. “He is very sharp in his computer skills. A genius in the making in our family, only if I could be half as good as him,” Tamer wondered and looked with admiration at his elder brother.

“Where is your mind ticking? Didn’t I tell you to concentrate on the present situation, always?” The older one chided his sibling.

Sammy intervened, “Hey mate! Your brother is a champ in the making. Throughout the night, he has been of immense help to us,” and glanced affectionately at Tamer, who grinned at the compliment by his brother’s friend.

Doky playfully muddled his younger brother’s curly hair.

The mobile rang in Doky’s pocket. He pulled it out. Two pairs of anxious eyes unceasingly stared at him. “I’m not taking it. Let it go to voicemail.” Doky assured them. The ringing stopped gradually with no response. “These college dorks are so jobless, always roaming around like vagabonds, and disturbing others who are busy in their accomplishments,” he complained.

The teens went back to their tasks again. 

The apparatus kits strewed all around; yet to be assembled. They tried several times but failed to fuse the correct correlation of the circuits. The equipment resembled a Rubik’s cube with filaments of all colours protruding from all corners. The red, yellow, orange, blue, green, and black nylon pieces; all entangled with one another like snakes in an aquatic-museum. It was too complicated to get connected. They tried with all their senses, tossed, turned, bent, stooped, knelt, to make their goal an everlasting feat, the depleted selves, desperate in their search for glory. Under any circumstances, they would not surrender to their failure. It was their brainchild; it has to be a success story. 

“I need some rest, or else my head would not operate. It is absolutely frozen.” Sammy dragged himself towards the leather couch and slumped on it. 

“Your intellectual capacity will perform once you fill your stomach with these,” Doky offered him the cold sandwiches and pizza slices lying on the miniature, round table near one of the windowpanes; from the previous night. 

“Thanks.” He gobbled and in between big bites blabbered, “Let me take a quick nap and refresh my mental prowess.” 

Fuming, Doky cussed and kicked Sammy; hard on his rear, but he comfortably set himself upon the settee, and within seconds dozed off to oblivion.

Tamer, though the youngest amongst the three was the coolest. Watching the uneasiness of the situation, and seething self of Doky, he immediately pitched in, “Hey bro! I have observed the finer nuances. Let me try it out. You can guide me.” 

Without any further conversations or eye contacts, Tamer instantaneously descended on the project laid on the floor; to be accomplished. Doky, understandably disappointed, yet grudgingly acknowledged the rational pronouncements of his younger brother.   


Noon Monday, April 15, 2013

With squinted eyes, Sammy scrutinized the two heads, drooping on the creations. He vigorously rubbed his eyes and straightened himself up on the sofa, highly amused at the spectacle. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he visualized this comical scenario and smiled, inwardly.

Doky was always the boss for them, be it at home or in school. At home, he dictated the terms to Tamer, who worshipped his older sibling after God for his intelligence. In school, he gave his timid friend, Sammy, some importance. Sammy was fond of him because in the presence of Doky; he found an unrelatable meaning and significance in his dreary life. The other boys and girls in school cared less either for Doky or Sammy, for their different traits, but these two hit off at the first instance like Laurel and Hardy. 

Doky had an aura around himself, about being a superior being who has landed mistakenly in this milieu. He envisioned himself to be in the great companies of stalwarts and shared weird but exciting ideas like the genie of Aladdin, which were immediately gulped down by these two blind supporters, without any further queries. 

The current situation was a thorough contrast of the usual practice. Tamer took the lead, held on to the reins, and controlled their project. He directed Doky with precision, and he pursued the construction with great enthusiasm.

“That’s excellent progress! The development and combination have taken wings and are almost flawless. Kudos to my mate!” Sammy exclaimed and jumped out of the comfortable place to join the bandwagon. 

“No, Dumbo, we still need to align the joysticks to the models. We are in the nascent stages of progress, a long way to go for fulfilment. There is hardly half an hour left for us to meet the deadline. You fat crap, shake yourself up, and assist us to finish off the crucial demonstration.” Doky spewed at Sammy, who reciprocated with a sheepish grin.   

Tamer again came to the rescue of the tensed moment. “Relax, don’t worry. I have got the motion of it. We are progressing fine. God willing, it should run all right.”

With innumerable steering and finessing, the critical networks finally fitted at the point. They united ultimately; it was a perfect match. They pushed and pulled to test the tenacity of their toys. Though, unsure of the efficacy, at the juncture of deliverance, still a breath escaped from their agonized psyches.   

The palpitations continued with beads of perspiration on their foreheads. “Let us test drive it. We will know the consequences after the experiment.” Sammy beamed.

Doky indicated a thumbs up towards his accomplices.

“When will they get the much-awaited result?” The doubts lingered in their senses.  


12:30 pm Monday, April 15, 2013

Speculations continued amongst themselves. They have to be cautious; lest their surprise efforts get exposed. Skittish in their skin, they patiently waited for the decisive stages. Every second was unbearable; it seemed like decades.

Sammy seated on the couch; emphasized, “We have been persistent, now let our struggles speak. We’ll create a modern phenomenon.”

Carefully, they set up the gadgets on the computer table; the remote controls of their exhibits in the hands of Doky and Tamer. Sammy read out loud from the magazine and instructed them.  

“Yes, there it is!” They exclaimed in unison, as the whirring resonated amidst the strained atmosphere and their hushed debates. They examined the instruments repeatedly, the functioning facilities of their ingenuity. Eventually, they heaved a sigh of relief. 

Doky’s face lit up with a smirk, his white-dazzling teeth shone, “The unimaginable effects will be permanent. Our names etched in history. We will gain world-class fame, and that’s what our life is all about – to achieve the unachievable.” He embraced them. “Excellent job. Thank you.”

The faint strains of midday crept through the nooks of the blinds. The three pubescent youths though weary after the sleepless night; felt encouraged after their hard labour and great attainment. Their minds sped to the not-so-distant portrayal of their abilities to the entire universe. 

Sammy verified the time and got up from the divan. He addressed the duo, “It’s nearly one. Let me take leave, now,” and swaggered towards the door. 

“Wait.” Doky walked up to him and stroked his golden hair. “Don’t go right away. We will leave together, but in different directions.” He countered Sammy with a cold, manipulative tone. 

Doky was back to his old, asserted self. He took over at the helm, and with brisk steps moved towards the cupboard. He pulled out their backpacks, baseball caps, hooded jackets, and ordered, “Tamer get ready soon. We have to leave shortly. The game is on. The countdown has begun.”  

Sammy froze in his space, and Tamer nodded at Doky’s commands. He aimed straight for the restroom; and followed his elder brother’s dictum verbatim like the sermons from the sages. Doky was as swift as an arrow; he packed the essential gizmos promptly. 

“Cheers to our planning and pursuit.” To ease the atmosphere, Doky hugged and laughed with them. The reassurance to calm the others from their anxieties. It was the culmination of their old friendship and brotherhood and the conclusion of previous apprehensions. Lastly, they have triumphed. 

The clock struck one; at the far end church bell tower. Doky glimpsed for the last time at the magazine print-outs, Inspire, lying on the table. He believed, indeed, Inspire, was the inspiration to take a bold move in their lives. They strode out of their dark hole into the blazing light of the afternoon Sun. The aureate flames of passion dazzled in their youthful untamed hearts, the heat reflected on their flushed adolescent faces and whispered speeches as they bade adieu. The siblings strolled in the opposite route from Sammy, who set out for home, content with his assistance and achievement.


1:45 pm Monday, April 15, 2013 

The duo reached their destination. People flocked on the streets, and children thronged the sidewalks. Revelry and celebrations pulsated in the air. They became a part of the milieu and enjoyed the gaiety along with the crowd.

A new experience for these teenagers. Their thoughts incessantly questioned, “Will they be victorious in their mission?” 


2:49 pm Monday, April 15, 2013

The mayhem finally unleashed. News streamed from all quarters of social media; and masses poured over their mobiles and televisions; aghast. Again, the world gaped in horror at the inexplicable disasters. 

The unanswered questions remained in the cores of beings, “How long will this saga continue? Incomprehensible miseries to grieve and suffer…..” 

History repeated and rewritten again in bold. It declared, “THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING.”



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One thought on “The Inspiration

  1. Good work, but wasn’t it “2hrs”? You started at 11am and they came out of the room at 1.45pm? Is that ok?

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