The Fatal Turn by PVV Satyanarayana (red queen free ebook .txt) 📕

THE FATAL TURN

I WAS VERY proud of my super-intelligence and myself. I had the knack of tricking any one effortlessly. In fact I strongly believed that even the international crook and the notorious master cheater Charles Shobhraj would be no match to me in intelligence and cunningness.

When mentioned this once to my friends, they laughed at me and chided me saying that I was fast approaching my ruin and that was why such nasty thoughts were coming to my mind. I possessed a lot of confidence in myself, which they called over-confidence. Being a fellow who gave a damn to others’ views and counseling, I suspected that these fellows were jealous of me. It was unfortunate that I was yet to get a chance to prove what I was. The big fish was yet to get into my net. I was not contented with the small fishes that became prey to me, for any number of small fish could not substitute for a big golden fish. But I had never thought that the grand break I was waiting for was round the corner.

THREE MONTHS AGO I went to Hyderabad on my business trip. I stayed in a star hotel. One morning sitting near the swimming pool, I was watching the break of dawn. The golden-yellow sunrays spreading slowly all over were waking up the world that slept through the cold winter night. At the feel of the warmth the nature stirred into life again. With the rising sun the horizon became red, looking so wonderful as the painting of a renowned artist. Although it was a routine scene every morning, the beauty and marvel of the sunrise always fascinated me. As usual I was lost in admiring the same.

And it was at that moment that the girl had approached me. She must be around twenty. She was slim and tall. With her lotus eyes and bobbed hair, she was very fair and beautiful and looked like a golden nymph. The lemon-yellow swimming suit worn by her was unable to conceal her youth. I was not sure if I had ever seen such a stunning beauty.

I had never met her earlier. Still she came and sat beside me as if she were an old pal of mine. Settling beside me, she had enquired enthusiastically, “Hello. Aren’t you Mr. Vinay babu?”

I did not know who that Vinay babu was. But I did not want to disappoint her by admitting that. I rather did not want to miss the opportunity of spending some time with her. So I had sported a smile.

Mistaking my smile for admission, she became excited. “Oh, my good luck! How fortunate I am to meet my favourite tennis star Vinay babu! It’s really my grand luck!” with her unbounded joy sh

e had held my hands and shook them like a small girl.

My astonishment had doubled. I too had heard about the Delhi-based super-star of tennis, Vinay. I also knew that very recently he had emerged as the Wimbledon Champion. But what I did not know was whether he resembled me. Though I saw his photograph in the newspapers once or twice, the prints were not clear.

But why was this girl mistaking me for Vinay? Was it a mistake on her part, or was there really a resemblance between us?

“Vinay babu, could you guess how I could recognize you?” she had asked me naughtily. I smiled again.

“Oh, the great Wimbledon Champion won’t speak, eh?”

The same smile in reply. “All right. I will tell you myself. I can never forget your face even in my dream. When you became the Wimbledon Champion there was an article on you with your photographs in the Sportsweek. You can’t imagine how many times I had read the article. I still preserve it. That is why I remember your face and hobbies so vividly. Though I was in doubt initially, I had suddenly remembered that watching sunrise one of your hobbies. And there you are admiring the sunrise…”

I was amused at her words. Even if he were a Wimbledon Champion, developing such a mad affection on him by a damsel like her was really astonishing.

I did not like to reveal that I was not the Wimbledon Champion Vinay, and lose her company. There was an instant desire in me to enjoy her company at least for some time.
“The damsels would never be mistaken,” said I, flashing a smile. “I’m sure your name is as beautiful as you are”.

Her rosy cheeks reddened at my words. “Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Namitha, your fan and admirer. I very much like your superb play,” she said excitingly.

As I heard her words and saw her excitement, I felt elated and my heart filled with joy and floated like a feather in the air, as if I were the real Vinay.

“Vinay babu, I come here daily for swimming. I don’t find words to describe how happy I am to meet you today so unexpectedly,” Namitha said. “Are you staying in this hotel? When did you come to the city? How long will you be here? Have you come to play any match here?”

I eyed her pleasingly as she rained questions at me. One thought had occurred to me at that moment. As she had taken me surely for the champion Vinay, there must certainly be an unmistakable resemblance between him and myself.

Namitha and I had tea at the restaurant. She was talking non-stop with mad affection and admiration… She was a college student. She had invited me to her home for dinner. She had revealed her intention to invite her friends also to the dinner. As she was taking decisions so fast and then and there with such an ease, I sensed that she belonged to an aristocratic family.

I did not want to jump at the invitation, however. It would be better to know more of the champion by the time I visited her home, I thought. I told her that I would be too busy that day to accept her invitation. I had promised to attend the dinner the next day. She had agreed and told me that she would meet me again at the swimming pool the next morning.
She had suddenly kissed me on my cheek. And before I could recover from the shock, she had left.

THAT UNEXPECTED INCIDENT had inspired new ideas in my crooked mind. I had postponed all my other works that day, and went to the District Library. I had obtained the old issues of the Sportsweek and scanned through all of them patiently. My labour became fruitful after an hour of the careful search. I could at last find the article I needed. The article on Vinay – published on the occasion of his winning the Wimbledon title – was there. The article reflected his entire background, his habits, hobbies, etc. along with his colour photographs in different angles. Even his autograph was there on one of the photographs.

I held my breath as I studied each of his photographs carefully. He looked exactly like me! No, no…I looked exactly like him!! Even the hairstyle and the moustache matched – like a xerox copy.

‘How did I miss to notice this earlier!’ I wondered. Perhaps I missed to watch whenever Vinay’s matches were telecast.

I now felt that there was nothing wrong in Namitha mistaking me for Vinay. Even if Vinay were to see me, he could not but believe that it was himself. If Vinay and I were to stand together, we would certainly look like twins.

I read the article carefully once again. Then I glanced around. Everybody was busy reading. I looked at the pages of the article. Luckily it was a center spread. Quietly I had removed the pages from the magazine. I folded and slipped them into my pocket. Throwing the magazine on the table, I got up and coolly walked out.

At that moment many thoughts, a variety of i8deas and plans had started whirling in my mind …..

NOW, AFTER THREE months, the news item in the newspaper made me to laugh. It made me feel proud too … I knew my intelligence and shrewdness were great and unparalleled. Even the notorious Charles Shobraj would be nothing before me!

‘The Wimbledon Champion Vinay went to Chennai. Namitha saw him there. She had accosted him as the man who seduced her at Hyderabad earlier. He pleaded innocence. He said that he had never seen her before. Namitha became mad at this and attacked him injuring him with her sharp nails. This had happened one fine morning near the swimming pool of a star hotel where Vinay lodged. People could not decide whom to believe. Later on, the enquiries revealed that three months ago Vinay had stayed in a star hotel at Hyderabad in the assumed name of Vijay, and that he was moving intimately with Namitha. The hotel records and the depositions of the hotel staff confirmed this. Namitha had lodged a complaint against Vinay for cheating. Vinay too filed a suit against her for defamation…!’ – thus went on the story in the national press that day.

I felt like roaring with laughter on reading the item. I checked myself with great difficulty as I remembered that I was sitting in a hotel lounge.

It would be impossible even for Lord Shiva with in spite of his three eyes to detect me. That was why I had decided to continue with this interesting game.

Poor Namitha! She was so mad that she had believed that I would marry her. That was why she had readily and unhesitatingly surrendered herself to my passion.

As I reminisced the love and affection she had showered on me … the moments I had shared with her … the unforgettable ecstatic experience I had shared with her … my heart throbbed with her sweet memories and went for her.
‘Poor thing!’ I pitied her.

I WAS ACCUSTOMED to touring different places as a Sales Executive of a reputed firm. Today I was here and tomorrow I might be there. Staying in star hotels at the Company’s expense and booking orders for the Company was my business. Duping people with my un-matching intelligence and cunningness was my nature. There was hardly anyone who did not fall prey to my tricks.

It was three days later as I was taking breakfast at a hotel in Vijayawada that I came across another news item concerning Vinay.

‘A couple of months ago when ‘Vinay’ visited Chennai, he had signed with some advertising agencies to act in their ad films and received lakhs of rupees as advance payment from them. As he had failed to give dates for the shooting of these films for long, these agencies contacted him and demanded for early dates. To their utter shock and dismay, he had denied not only the receipt of advance payments from them, even signing of the contracts. He even went to the extent of alleging forgery of his own signature. But it was confirmed that he did stay in a star hotel in Chennai in his own name on the dates of signing the contracts. The Ad agencies had