500 Words a day renewed!

Well except that this time there is no one bullying me into anything! Jill knows I can't write under pressure, and I hope I have driven the point sufficiently straightly home by obstinately refusing to add even a single byte of my written voice to this blog, over a period spanning approximately two years, without having felt even the slightest twinge of shame. I have held out against everything ranging from minor threats to major bouts of unconcern, never wavering. But today things change. Starting today I am going to write 500-ish words a day-ish and at the bidding of my own free will.

Wow, that's 118 words already till the dot at the end of this line.

Today I shall introduce myself, remaining as superficial as possible. No Sir! No soul searching for me! What I write will, I hope, set the pace of things to come.

Mahesh was astounded. Mahesh was stunned. Mahesh brandished a Tommy Gun - Ed. Twenty seven shots were fired into the silent night, as four of the five bulky torsos, attached to swaying, knife wielding limbs, making threatening gestures, were neatly chopped into quarts. It was dark and quite. Mahesh was shocked. Mahesh dropped the gun and it fell to the ground making disagreeing noises. Mahesh began to run. It was time for dinner.

Dinner begins at half past eight. The house is clean and brightly lit. Soft music is floating in the air. Mahesh is seated at the head of the table. The little kid sits directly opposite him but does not look at Mahesh. He is looking over his right shoulder at a Television screen. There is soup and peas mixed together on the table. The little kid gets up and changes the channel on the television. The bright lights suddenly change character. Dark rock music engulfs the room. The lights dance around the room in rapidly changing hues. There is no peace on earth, even inside of a man’s house. There is a shotgun on the table - Dark, solid and comforting. Mahesh squeezes his arms around the shotgun and it goes off. There is silence once more. The infernal music is still playing.

The little kid was stunned. There was blood in his soup and there was blood on the Television screen. He ran out of the room screaming for help. Two strong bulky hands descended on him at the door and the screaming stopped almost immediately. The fifth had found him. Things were never easy for Mahesh. He always had to fight for his life, but he had always won. Mahesh was invincible and things would remain the same today. He grabbed the right hand of the fifth and spun him around. There was no gun, none was needed. He pushed a knee into his guts. Then twisted his right wrist with an extended palm while simultaneously head butting him into the jaw, breaking it. As the fifth fell, he grabbed his neck and rotated it easily, almost effortlessly.