The Nights Tail

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man in search of adventure (or should we say trouble).

Submitted: November 01, 2009

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Submitted: November 01, 2009

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Chapter 1 - The Start

The big race had gone all wrong. "I can see some huts about a mile from here," I yelled to Joe and Neena. I was standing on top deck of the rickety motor boat which we had bought off by pawning whatever we had with us.

I had been steering it down the river in heavy downpour for nearly 2 hrs. It was a mesmerizing sight the rain had almost stopped and the hot air was rising up and turning into mist. I stopped breathing for a while, the stillness of the place seeped into my pores. I killed the engine and the boat slowly drifted down the river like a lifeless log. Joe and Neena joined me on the top deck and they gaped at the sight. It was a shallow marshy ground with long green bladed abruptly interrupted by a range of small hills with flowers all over. White birds chirped and welcomed us by hovering over our boat. "Are we in heaven or do I see trouble," Neena shrugged.

I first met Neena and Joe in Delhi. They were part of my team which was to join the big race. Neena was 24, lithe with a sharp tongue and she had more things packed between her ears them inside her cups. She was an executive with a bank and talked in questions and it didn't take much time for me to fell for her quirky nature. She was a looker and could have turned on a flagging 70 year old without any artificial help.

The big race was an experimental project. It had the jaded corporate burnouts, jerks and lunatics looking for much needed kick to propel their lifeless life's engine with excitement and adventure.

I had been gamer for long and was looking for some real adventure in the real world. I stumbled upon the advert through a gamer friend who casually mentioned it to me during one of our high charged game session which he easily won. It read, "If adventure gives you high join the race". It also said in small prints that "you might not live to regret joining the big race".

Joe was a mild mannered jaded IT engineer. He was a foot taller than me and had curly hair and big arms. Joe seemed much older than 35 but introduced himself as in late 20’s. He was a wee bit darker than my favorite dark chocolate, not withstanding his completion he was a bright bloke and knew well how to connect the dots.

Nobody had a clue about who was managing and running the show. To register, I logged on the site, filled in the details and swiped my credit card for $20000. In 2 weeks, I was sent a mail with names of people who I was teamed up with - Neena & Joe. I was asked to look up for them in Delhi with simple clue and the picture.

Ramsey was my idol when I was being grilled in the catering college to differentiate sauté from frying. He was a celebrity chef with good looks and I nurtured a desire to be like him one day. Getting a footing in the business with not easy. I worked at couple of places before I answered the call of 'Knight Hotel'. They were looking for someone with experience in managing kitchen and I fitted the bill.

I loved my job at the ‘Kitchen of Moe’. It’s a small nook in the Knight Hotel and the management neglected it until I took over. I learned later that I was the only one who answered their advert. They didn’t hope me to do miracles. They seem to have chalked out a plan to go down the bankruptcy route with or without me. However, the fortune of the Knight changed once I took charge.

Moe’s helped me give free rein to my creativity - I experimented with different cuisines. Soon it was talk of the town and I had almost everybody eating out of my hands. I grew in popularity for my style of cooking and the show and drama I put up at Moe every evening.

Time passed and I moved out of Moe and stared my start alone restaurants, 'The Nights Tail'. It went on to win the restaurant of the year for its food and service and my journalist friends kept me in news. Money and fame pulled me into the vortex of the power game and I enjoyed every bit of it. After a while things stared appearing phony to me. My interest started flagging and then one day I heard about the big game.

I took a sabbatical from work and handed the charge to the junior chef. I told everybody I had been invited to Scotland to teach at the culinary college and was also to gain some insight into the their culinary history and fares. To be honest with you, I had absolutely no interest in haggis, scones and cakes but the reason was too perfect to be challenged or rebutted.

[SHARK IN A POND]

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