Petrol

Nimi Kurian

1 July 2008, 21:37

It was still was still early when the door bell rang. Arjun looked at the clock in his bedroom.

He swore! It was only six a.m. “Who can be ringing the doorbell at this unearthly hour,” he wondered, as he hauled himself out of bed and went to answer it.

It was Gaurav, his neighbour. “Arjun,” he said loudly…too loudly.

Obviously he was very excited. “There’s a shortage of petrol. We are all going to fill up our tanks. Come along!”

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes he said, “No man. Not now. I’m still asleep! I’ll fill it up on the way to work.” He noticed that there were at least three or four others with him. Kumar, Ankit, Prakash and another guy he had seen but never spoken to.
Gaurav shrugged and they all trooped off.

“Christ! What madness!” muttered Arjun as he shut the door and stumbled back to bed.

When he finally woke it was close to nine. He barely had time to make himself a cup of coffee, bathe and get ready for work. He had forgotten all about filling up his car. He raced off to work. It was only when he reached the office he realised that his tank was close to empty.

“I’ll fill up on the way home,” he thought. “Surely things cannot be so bad. This Gaurav and gang are just a bunch of scare mongers. Panic buttons.”

But all through the day he got messages on G chat and mobile phone asking him if he had filled up. By evening he was beginning to get a bit scared. What if the rumours were true, he thought. So he told his boss he had to get off an hour early.

He rushed to the bunk near his house where he always filled his gas. When he got there he was surprised to find that already there was a queue a mile long. Not knowing what else to do he parked up behind the last car, switched off his engine and waited. Half an hour later, he inched forward a couple of yards. By now the road had been cordoned off. Because of all the cars waiting on the road there was not enough room for other traffic.
He got out of his car to see what was happening. He saw there were cars standing for well on miles both behind him and on the other side of the bunk too. All waiting to fill up. Half an hour later, he moved another couple of yards.

Two hours later, he was no nearer the bunk. He saw people rushing off with large jerry cans sloshing with petrol – triumphant, they looked. It was as if they had achieved some great feat.
It was almost two hours later when he neared the bunk. He saw the police were having a tough time controlling the crowd. Lathis swinging, they shouted at queue jumpers, they were even beating people who tried to rush in with their cans. The whole thing was absolutely frightening.

Arjun was wondering if he should wait any longer. Tempers were flying, the drivers were impatient and angry, the police agitated, the petrol bunk attendants tired and over worked. Never had they witnessed such a situation. And just as he was wondering what he should do, the lights in the bunk went off. The attendants ran to the entrance and drew a chain across. The bunk had run dry.

Cursing and swearing, cars reversed, turned and drove off.
Well, some of them did. Others, the more angry ones began attacking the lucky ones – especially those carrying jerry cans with petrol. They grabbed the cans and ran off laughing to fill their own cars.

Arjun decided it was time he left this scene before things could get nastier. As he turned and drove down the road, he saw a couple of men lying on the roadside – beaten, bruised and bleeding. Further on, there were more bodies.

“Can people do this just for some petrol?” he wondered.

All the way home he saw cars on the road – abandoned because there was no more petrol in them.

Arjun reached home parked his car and went into his apartment. He was tired. He needed a nice bath, some dinner and sleep. He just couldn’t do anything else tonight.

He had barely finished his dinner, when the doorbell rang.

“Hope its not visitors,” he thought. “I’m not up to much entertaining at the moment.” The sights he saw on the road were still fresh in his mind.

It was Gaurav. He was alone this time. He looked shocked, his face was white and he was shivering.

“I got home a couple of hours ago,” he said. “My mother is not well. I had to take her to hospital. On the way we were stopped by a group of people. They just opened my petrol tank and siphoned out all my petrol. I told them my mother was sick and had to go to hospital, but they wouldn’t listen. We had to walk back…”

Seeing his distressed state, Arjun told him to come inside.

“Have a drink. It will calm you down.”

“No, no. I have to get back. I have to get my mother to hospital.”

“Can’t you call an ambulance?”

“No. There are no ambulances running.”

“Oh! How can I help you?”

“Can you take us to the hospital?”

“But Gaurav, I have no petrol in my car!”

“Oh my god! What will I do now?” he wailed.

“What about the other guys who were with you this morning? Can’t they help you?”

“Prakash is stuck in office. Someone drained his tank in the office car park. Kumar has not returned home as yet. We have no news of him. He is not answering his mobile also. Ankit’s car was stolen and Rudra is stuck somewhere in traffic. Probably without petrol!”

“Can we carry her? Probably make a stretcher…” asked Arjun hesitantly. He knew Gaurav’s mother. She was a small made woman and quite thin too. Surely two well built fellows like Gaurav and he could carry her to the hospital.

Gaurav’s face lit up. “Will you?” he asked eagerly. “Will you really do this for me?”

Arjun swallowed his fears and nodded. He did not relish the idea of stepping onto the road once again. But then he really had no choice now. So they made a makeshift stretcher, put the sick woman onto it and carried her out.

The sight that met their eyes was horrendous. It was like a bomb had bit the city. People lay all along the roads, cars were piled up. In a distance they could see occupants of cars, just leaving their cars and running for safety. Gangs of men with long knives and metal chains terrorised the few that were still able to drive their cars.

It was a city gone mad.

Comment

  1. The petrol mafia and a sign of things to come! . A story well imagined.

    — jude · Jul 3, 08:26 · #

  2. a sure sign of things to come…

    — AV · Jul 3, 18:31 · #

  3. Absolute rotten imagination. Such things can never happen. Guys…take a break..

    — Satish · Jul 3, 18:41 · #

  4. Start building up your stamina for cycling

    — Ravi · Jul 7, 15:03 · #

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