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Tuesday, 16 July 2013

The french bread-part 6




 The morning was perfect for a walk. Cold breeze was blowing momentarily. The birds were chirping beautiful song, trying to wake other live species.  But Mr. Pascal didn’t feel so. He hated walks. It was his wife mean way to disturb his sleep. He always felt his wife was jealous of his sound sleep.  On top of this misery, his wife had sent her loyal servant- ‘Panduranga’ with him.  However the senior citizen had no power in front of his wife.  

He had walked half way when he realized something fishy ahead. When he was close, he saw a body next to the bushes. The body was a young man who was nearly naked. He held the youth’s wrist to feel the pulse. “ Thank god! He is alive.” , he said to himself.  “ Hey Pandu! Come and help me with this man”, he called.  Pandu walked towards him and said, “ Saar, it’s better to call the police and wait.”

He nodded his head in disappointment and said irritatingly, “ If you don’t want to help, it’s ok. I still have strength to hold this boy and walk home.”  Pandu hesitatingly did as he was told. He helped the guy up with all the strength and walked home.

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He felt a ice cold thing being placed on his head. He tried to open his eyes to see.  He saw an unclear picture of a woman touching the ‘thing’ on his head.  After few trials he opened his eyes fully. He saw everything proper this time. He saw a woman in her fifties  sitting beside him.  “ Where am I?” he said in feeble voice that was really soft for the lady to hear. 


“ Oh!! You are awake!” she said while also calling out her husband’s name.  He tried to raise his body from the bed. “ Don’t child, you will strain yourself. ”, she said.  “Davis!! Davis!! Where are you, old man?”, she screamed her lungs out. 

“ Stop it, old lady!! I am here! Don’t wake that young chap. He needs rest.” , Mr. Pascal said. “How are you, child? I have called the police. Do tell me when you are feeling better. You need to file a statement. But first tell me , what happened to you?”, Mr Pascal continued.  “ I am fine, sir. I was robbed by few culprits in the midnight. They left me in this condition.” ,  Pierre said. “ C’est terrible! Bangalore used to be a safe place.” Pascal said.  “ Are you French!” Pierre asked. “ Yes! Kind of! I am an Anglo Indian. My father was French officer. ” Mr. Pascal said. “ Ah oui! I am French too!! “ Pierre said. “You do look one!  What made you come here?” Mr Pascal asked. Pierre didn’t reply as he didn’t want to answer the question.

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A month had passed smoothly. He had become a part of Pascal’s family. He did miss his small bakery and home. But he didn’t feel like going back. As he stacked the long baguette in the basket, a customer entered the bakery.  He turned to respond to customer’s need. It was her. He froze as he saw her face.

( To be continued)     

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