Undercover - 2

It was Subbu's idea. All of it.

The comic book series was to be called Stan Man and Nanga Fakir with AK as the hero Stan Man and Nanga Fakir as his lazy, unmotivated sidekick Nanga Fakir. Despite their skeletal frames and zero interest in fighting crime, they were meant to sadistically mutilate whatever villains cared to come their way. Subbu's venture was important also because it would've been the first time that a Tam donned the mantle of the hero and a rustic northy buffoon tailed him along as his sidekick. He even expected the project to be funded by the Ministry of National Integration.

It was there for all to see - a grand success even before work on it could begin.

But then suddenly, Subbu found The Gym and as is usual with him, left the project in the lurch and the comic book never transcended its humble arbit-wingie-talk-routine origins. And so, two frail, bookish, sleepy, obscure, low profiled losers stayed that way unhappily ever after.

This story would've been comfortably forgotten had it not been for the fact that AK decided to visit Nanga Fakir after a year and a half and dragged the virtually catatonic Nanga Fakir out of his dirty, post apocalyptic wreck of a house and made him explore the dark, godforsaken recesses of the frigid concrete jungle.

It was fun though. Especially while the time the Gossip Machine was on full blast during the many two hour commutes to the City. I was surprised that Nanga Fakir still enjoyed such news as much as a middle-aged-housewife-bored-to-death-with-her-life would.

Among many stories of trips to cinema halls, confused wanderings in heavy snow and botched attempts to find their way across the City in minus twenty degrees (not really surprising - Nanga Fakir has been described as a 'lost soul' on more than one occasion), the prize for the best story goes to the one in which Stan Man and Nanga Fakir spotted the Tamil Nadu Bhavan on the 27th Street. Playing on the television, the SUN TV movie was the icing on the cake. Nanga Fakir and Stan Man fought hard the spontaneous tears of nostalgia as they welled up inside them and threatened to perturb their deliberately cultivated, carefree exteriors. And they'd like to believe they prevailed.

However, the heavy tourist-giri indulged in by the two had its toll on Nanga Fakir. He now sits on his bed convalescing. Heck, being undercover is so tiring!

Hey Subbu, it's not late yet. Make me a star!