Mystery unveiled: the truth about http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Pakistan-c755’s match-fixing allegations
“What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient... highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain, it's almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed - fully understood - that sticks; right in there somewhere.”
Washed away on the beach, an old man lies slightly delusional, unconscious. He opens his eyes to make out familiar faces on the beach, an Englishman, a cricketer perhaps. He lies there, drained as two guards run towards the old man, vertigo sets in, he faints again.
A blur of colour and sounds pierce their way to his head, he opens his eyes, to hear the tinkling of anklets. He makes out the silhouette of a woman, shaking her voluptuous curves to the sound of music, dancing, making her way towards him. He smiles. He looks at her and it turns out to be the lovely Veena Malik.
Sitting next to her, she speaks, “What matter of business you have with me? Are you here to deliver a love letter from http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Khan-c71319? He could not keep his eyes off me. He told me in private, I am the most beautiful Barbie he has seen.”
The old man makes a pout and gives her the look. “I am here for more serious matters. As you may know, you are dreaming Veena and I am one of the most skilled extractor. I can break into the subconscious and extract secrets when a person is dreaming.”
She gives him an evil grin. Holding his hand, she speaks, “I have an assignment for you then.”
“Asif my boyfriend is a psychic. He used to ‘hait’ me. He tortured me. He made me wear a gown and dance on waka waka. I am not Shakira and not very flexible. I want to take him down. I want him to be a match fixer. I want you to plant a parasite in his head, a bacteria, a virus, an intestinal worm. I want him to become a fixer; a match fixer with diarrhoea.”
The old man smiled, “I want you to transfer into my account 10 million dollars.”
“How about 10 hundred rupee notes and a personalized dance for you in a skimpy dress?”
The old man, rolls eyes and looks at her greedily. “Deal !”
He sees a man standing behind Veena, the face is familiar.
“Giles? What are you doing here? This is a private matter. Go, or else I will plant an idea in Pawars mind that you and your boys are cheaters who fix matches.”
The man, laughs. A loud shrill laugh.
“Sharad is coming after you. I have planted in his head, that you are his long lost lover. He will come after you now. He will take you away.”
*poof*
The man disappears. The old man, Butt, looks into empty space and then at Veena. “Your assignment will be done.” He snaps his fingers, and slowly gradually sees himself pulling out of the reverie.
Back home, he sits on his chair and closes his eyes to make his way into Asif’s dream. Transforming himself into Angelina Jolie, he goes up to the handsome bowler who is milking his cows.
“Asif, Brad Pitt is psychic. He “hait” me. He tortures me. He makes me wear a gown in front of his friends and then attacks me with a knife. Did you see Mr and Mrs Smith? He “hait” me with a knife like that. Please save me. You are poor, but there is a man http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Mazhar-c75448 Majeed. He will help you make money and then you will be so rich. Save me from Pitt.”
Butt, snaps his fingers again and sits back on his couch. He visualizes 10 hundred rupee notes and a dance from the lovely Veena in a skimpy dress. Life could not be sweeter.
(To be continued...)
(The writer uses fiction to educate readers about the sad realities of everyday life)
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