Read Online JOHNNY GONE DOWN by Karan Bajaj - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karan Bajaj
Tags: Fiction
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months ago, I used to run ten miles a day at soccer practice; now, I couldn’t even muster the energy to walk three feet.
Those bastards could come back any moment.
Think, boy, think, I told myself. Mens et Manus , Mind and Hand - the MIT slogan. Use your mind if the body doesn’t listen. I summoned all my energy to get up again, and collapsed once more. This wasn’t working. I tried to drag myself out of the stream. Slowly, painfully, stumbling on the sharp-edged stones, I began to crawl my way to the bank, almost willing the Khmer Rouge lackeys to retrace their steps and put me out of my misery. With a last burst of effort, I dragged myself to the edge of the stream. I slipped out of consciousness when I reached the bushes.
I woke after an eternity, delirious and uncomprehending. I had missed the final examination at MIT because of soccer practice, I thought with a sinking sensation. Why were these dark, angry mosquitoes feasting on me in the soccer field? Coach, coach, I shouted, these plants are eating me. I tried to push the branches away, but there were so many of them, just so many of them… I slipped away again.
When I woke up next, the sun had risen.
Where was I?
You are in a forest in Cambodia trying to escape to Thailand , someone said.
What? I’m running late for an examination.
Remember the Khmer Rouge? Remember Cambodia? Boy, you need to get it together, don’t you?
Eat. Remember what Sam said? I eat anything that moves.’ Look around. Find something that’s moving.
I spotted a crab in the thick undergrowth and threw a stone at it. It scuttled away.
Easy, boy. Focus. Wait for the kill. Impatience has always been your downfall.
This time I waited for a crab to come near me, and picked up a larger stone. Crash. There, killed the bastard, I said triumphantly.
Now, light a fire.
I looked around for two stones and realized that my left wrist was hanging from my arm like a loose thread. How could I build a fire with one arm?
No problem. Just eat it raw.
Raw?
Yes. No seven-course meal awaits you here.
I retched, but slowly tore the poor sucker to pieces. I ate all the soft bits.
Good, now remember your father’s stories from his NDA days? Eat some grass to digest it.
Now, drag yourself to the stream and drink as much water as you can. Idiot, don’t stand like that. First, fasten your legs with those fallen branches for support. Good. Make them tight.
Get your bearings. Remember where the jeep came from? Remember the map from the time you first arrived?
Now boy, don’t get sad. Think of Ishmael, the Karma Yogi. Pleasure and pain. Joy and sorrow. Triumph and disaster. You control nothing, your only duty is to escape.
Okay, now rest and then start walking west.
Yours is not to question, boy. Just walk. Avoid the dirt tracks, just walk through the brambles and the bushes, not much left of you to be torn to pieces. Change course only when you smell decomposing flesh, because that means the Khmer Rouge are killing some villagers nearby.
Stop walking like that, will you? Be careful of the land mines Ishmael said are planted in the forest — stop whenever you see an aberration on the ground and change course.
Eat, drink, rest, walk, and stay out of trouble. How difficult is that, you spoilt son of a brave army officer?
I heard voices as I edged closer to a clearing with small huts, a herd of cattle, and a few men and women dressed in plain clothes walking around in what appeared to be a state of normalcy.
Who are they? I asked. Are we close to the Thai border?
I didn’t receive an answer.
I looked around frantically.
For five days and five nights, we had stumbled through the dense, bracketed forests together.Together, we endured the small, pointy bamboo plants that pierced the soles of our feet, and the angry mosquitoes that feasted on us at night. We stayed awake to beat away the snakes slithering in the bushes, and avoided the herds of trampling elephants in the distance. If it
Those bastards could come back any moment.
Think, boy, think, I told myself. Mens et Manus , Mind and Hand - the MIT slogan. Use your mind if the body doesn’t listen. I summoned all my energy to get up again, and collapsed once more. This wasn’t working. I tried to drag myself out of the stream. Slowly, painfully, stumbling on the sharp-edged stones, I began to crawl my way to the bank, almost willing the Khmer Rouge lackeys to retrace their steps and put me out of my misery. With a last burst of effort, I dragged myself to the edge of the stream. I slipped out of consciousness when I reached the bushes.
I woke after an eternity, delirious and uncomprehending. I had missed the final examination at MIT because of soccer practice, I thought with a sinking sensation. Why were these dark, angry mosquitoes feasting on me in the soccer field? Coach, coach, I shouted, these plants are eating me. I tried to push the branches away, but there were so many of them, just so many of them… I slipped away again.
When I woke up next, the sun had risen.
Where was I?
You are in a forest in Cambodia trying to escape to Thailand , someone said.
What? I’m running late for an examination.
Remember the Khmer Rouge? Remember Cambodia? Boy, you need to get it together, don’t you?
Eat. Remember what Sam said? I eat anything that moves.’ Look around. Find something that’s moving.
I spotted a crab in the thick undergrowth and threw a stone at it. It scuttled away.
Easy, boy. Focus. Wait for the kill. Impatience has always been your downfall.
This time I waited for a crab to come near me, and picked up a larger stone. Crash. There, killed the bastard, I said triumphantly.
Now, light a fire.
I looked around for two stones and realized that my left wrist was hanging from my arm like a loose thread. How could I build a fire with one arm?
No problem. Just eat it raw.
Raw?
Yes. No seven-course meal awaits you here.
I retched, but slowly tore the poor sucker to pieces. I ate all the soft bits.
Good, now remember your father’s stories from his NDA days? Eat some grass to digest it.
Now, drag yourself to the stream and drink as much water as you can. Idiot, don’t stand like that. First, fasten your legs with those fallen branches for support. Good. Make them tight.
Get your bearings. Remember where the jeep came from? Remember the map from the time you first arrived?
Now boy, don’t get sad. Think of Ishmael, the Karma Yogi. Pleasure and pain. Joy and sorrow. Triumph and disaster. You control nothing, your only duty is to escape.
Okay, now rest and then start walking west.
Yours is not to question, boy. Just walk. Avoid the dirt tracks, just walk through the brambles and the bushes, not much left of you to be torn to pieces. Change course only when you smell decomposing flesh, because that means the Khmer Rouge are killing some villagers nearby.
Stop walking like that, will you? Be careful of the land mines Ishmael said are planted in the forest — stop whenever you see an aberration on the ground and change course.
Eat, drink, rest, walk, and stay out of trouble. How difficult is that, you spoilt son of a brave army officer?
I heard voices as I edged closer to a clearing with small huts, a herd of cattle, and a few men and women dressed in plain clothes walking around in what appeared to be a state of normalcy.
Who are they? I asked. Are we close to the Thai border?
I didn’t receive an answer.
I looked around frantically.
For five days and five nights, we had stumbled through the dense, bracketed forests together.Together, we endured the small, pointy bamboo plants that pierced the soles of our feet, and the angry mosquitoes that feasted on us at night. We stayed awake to beat away the snakes slithering in the bushes, and avoided the herds of trampling elephants in the distance. If it
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