We were being distributed our half yearly papers. They were calling out the respective names to collect them and I wished none of them saw my paper or heard my name ( I was flunking).So my Ears were the most active part of my body at this moment. I was impatient.I learnt then why ears are considered one of the most important sensors(other day that I realized this was when I proposed).Then I heard the teacher calling “karthik”.I ran towards her but didn’t show off any panic. I collected my sheet and calmly took my place. I was more than happy that I went unnoticed .It wasn’t strange.As I wasnt among the popular kids in my school life except for the time I played Table tennis or in a mathematics class .Then slowly after a long confrontation in mind,I checked the score. I got 74/100.Wow!! Is it real.I checked it again.Then their was sudden surge of my emotions.Then I felt ecstatic. I accepted for the first time that god actually listens to me( only me ,he has special interest in me).Then I came down, I wished that I hadn’t been so secretive about this whole affair. I wished teacher announced it herself. Man!!What a great feeling it was. I stared at the test paper for moments. My eyes were fixated to the score and after few seconds I started browsing it. Astonishingly It looked like all my mistakes were corrected by the divine power that I have already mentioned. It was really THE moment of my life!!!
Then I heard the voice (noise) and this time my sensors weren’t working properly. Then I heard the voice again but it was bit bold "Thumu" the voice’s encryption ... "what?" I replied with a thought (you are disturbing my only moment of triumph against thosepeople who didn’t t believe in miracles and I hate people calling me Thumu)."Can I have My paper back"...."WHAT!!!!" but this time with a reaction (you know).Again bringing my senses back but with a rage and confusion, I queried again "wHaT??”..... "you have my paper" the Satan replied. It took me back and I checked it, so that he can be proved wrong. Hoping he was wrong. My world came crumbling (as the saying goes).The paper belonged to N.Karthik (the Satan).I couldn’t believe my eyes. He handed me the paper which he was holding. I found out which was evident in my thoughts few seconds back 7+4=11/100.I lost my battle. I wasn’t able to conceal it from others and save myself from humiliation. I lost it all. This happened only because of KARTHIK. Karthik my ******!!!
That’s my name. That’s how I am referred in this part of the world. The Americans preferred to just call me 'K' like agent 'J'. Do I love my name?? No I don’t, I wanna get rid of it. Whom should I abuse for it. You know the answer, it’s my Patrons (my parents were a just a subset of it).My grandma wanted to name me 'Karthikeyan'. She should have done it or my father shouldn’t have thought of the future. At least I would have shared my name with one of my all time favorites. Karthikeyan is much better than what I hold today. It doesn’t even serve a basic purpose for which a name is constituted (individuality).I hate my name. I know there are 1807 people according to orkut. Who are freakingly in love with this name. I don’t have anything against these guys. But why the hell, I had to be one of them?
I ended up as just one of the Karthik's, you know the black thin tall guy who has a very funny surname.
(Inspired by Karthik)