Prof. Hu lay awake on his bed. It had been well past five hours since he pulled up the sheets
but sleep seemed a distant entity. A cursory glance at his watch revealed five more hours of
torment. He regretted the moment when impetuousness struck. Providence had always
provided but avarice knows no bounds if left unchecked. His wife had taken ill and funding
options were at their nadir. Morever, all he had to do was say yes to the bright blue liquid.
He got up and walked towards his baby for the past few weeks - the bright blue liquid. It lay
there bubbling in its glass haven – innocuous. But hoary hack, Prof Hu, knew the insides.
Critco would market the bright blue liquid as a potent cancer drug. The coffers would fill in
but just a small clink in the shiny knight’s armour – the drug was lethal for juveniles. Prof.
Hu knew this and was in turmoil. The interim between the dream and the act is hideous- a
phantasm worth reneging upon in dire consequences. Prof. Hu cajoled himself to give in.
With dollops of self-speaking, he finally managed to stifle that little voice somewhere at the
back of his head. There is so much unfairness around. After all, it is absolutely just to fend
for one’s own family. And all he would be doing is to hide a minor detail- so inconspicuous
in its being but a portent potent threat. He decided to plunge in.
The sun was smearing its first colours on the velvety dark sky. Prof. Hu put on his Sunday
best. A kiss on his little son’s cheek- fast asleep like a cherub in a nest. And he was on
his way. It was a huge conference- overawing. Critco was all around- everywhere. The
shutterbugs were clicking away, pens were scratching and Prof. Hu took centre stage. He
spoke with a confidence that startled him- with a ferocity he had never known- but the little
voice still nagging him. After a brief exchange of pleasantries and a few morsels of an
otherwise sumptuous first meal, Prof. Hu made his homeward way. The little voice still
nagging, but his heart content.
He made a huge roar and flung the door open. A few birds were startled by this uproar in an
otherwise quiet morning. The bright blue liquid was still bubbling in its glass haven- the
meniscus a bit lower though. His little son was still asleep- or so he thought- cherub in a
nest – a blue drop shining through his parched lips.
but sleep seemed a distant entity. A cursory glance at his watch revealed five more hours of
torment. He regretted the moment when impetuousness struck. Providence had always
provided but avarice knows no bounds if left unchecked. His wife had taken ill and funding
options were at their nadir. Morever, all he had to do was say yes to the bright blue liquid.
He got up and walked towards his baby for the past few weeks - the bright blue liquid. It lay
there bubbling in its glass haven – innocuous. But hoary hack, Prof Hu, knew the insides.
Critco would market the bright blue liquid as a potent cancer drug. The coffers would fill in
but just a small clink in the shiny knight’s armour – the drug was lethal for juveniles. Prof.
Hu knew this and was in turmoil. The interim between the dream and the act is hideous- a
phantasm worth reneging upon in dire consequences. Prof. Hu cajoled himself to give in.
With dollops of self-speaking, he finally managed to stifle that little voice somewhere at the
back of his head. There is so much unfairness around. After all, it is absolutely just to fend
for one’s own family. And all he would be doing is to hide a minor detail- so inconspicuous
in its being but a portent potent threat. He decided to plunge in.
The sun was smearing its first colours on the velvety dark sky. Prof. Hu put on his Sunday
best. A kiss on his little son’s cheek- fast asleep like a cherub in a nest. And he was on
his way. It was a huge conference- overawing. Critco was all around- everywhere. The
shutterbugs were clicking away, pens were scratching and Prof. Hu took centre stage. He
spoke with a confidence that startled him- with a ferocity he had never known- but the little
voice still nagging him. After a brief exchange of pleasantries and a few morsels of an
otherwise sumptuous first meal, Prof. Hu made his homeward way. The little voice still
nagging, but his heart content.
He made a huge roar and flung the door open. A few birds were startled by this uproar in an
otherwise quiet morning. The bright blue liquid was still bubbling in its glass haven- the
meniscus a bit lower though. His little son was still asleep- or so he thought- cherub in a
nest – a blue drop shining through his parched lips.
