Author’s note on the writing
I would consider myself a very poor scribe, if these stories are not read far and wide in this world; for it is the failure of the writer and not the subject.
Future generations who by sheer bad luck come across this document will wonder if such a story ever happened, but that is only because I believe that future generations will not be as smart as us (the present) as how we are the dumber miniatures of our ancestors.
Good luck to you all
Publisher’s note on the publishing of this document
I used to run a small press usually used for publishing marriage invitations on yellow slim cardboards, it is obvious that I was forced to publish this dreary account of events, sometimes I feel i have undergone much physical torture and mental agony while the publishing of this document and I am quite happy to let you (the reader) know that your troubles will be miniscule when compared to mine.
This is my monster.
Go ahead read it.
Origins of an unknown enemy (OR) Chapter One
<1940 Madras, the time when dogs sleep and man is awake>
“For any good story, there must a good villain” the teacher said to the class of three people who sat huddled in a rather large class room.
The smartest of the three could not however speak, deprived of his voice; he wrote down “BULLSHIT” in the corner of the university supplied stationary.
Only later did he realised that this was indeed university supplied stationary and crossed it out with irritation, the pencil lines criss-crossing the paper, generating highly unnatural audio waves for an unusually empty class room.
However, him being the smartest student much of this was tackled by the teacher with a slight raise of eyebrow.
As with every story that begins with three characters and finally funnels down to two; the third of the boys will he happily ignored for now.
<Inquisitive readers can avail themselves with an extended back story of the third character as time goes by; for now let us say he gets married and becomes rich>
Now that you have removed the third student from mind your minds, let us then proceed to the second student.
<Actually wait; let’s stick to the smart first kid for now>
Small as he might be in age, his mental faculty had been steadily climbing day after day and that is why perhaps he is in this class when the rest of the city had gathered at the beach awaiting a spectacle.
<Madras 1940, time concurrent to the above setting>
The newspaper men had never seen such a gathering at the beach in all their small time on earth and it was quite odd as to how a rumour had spread across thousands without their help.
“Do you really think this Raja Naagam is big as they say it is?” one innocent man was heard saying, while the man next to him did not answer; the woman slightly away but still at hearing distance shouted.
“This is exactly what my grandmother said, look for the big snake on the beach and the world will end in 14 days after that”
An English Botanist who was actually an Australian burglar in disguise was also a witness to this conversation, and he saw that time was fit for him to join in, and thus he spoke his first lines in the story.
“My names is James; and I collect folklore”
The woman who appeared to have a speaking knowledge of English nodded at James, as though she had known him before, this irritated James.
“The myth of the sea-snake has been around for a century now” said another elderly man.
As these were great times, people were more vocal about their thoughts; the crowd spitting out opinions randomly and hurting everyone except themselves in the process. Another man with a false beard and half knowledge, who wore dark glasses finally, took to a raised platform; where later a statue of a great leader would occupy.
“I am the official representative of the Office of Disbelief, I assure you there is no humungous snake that is going to wash over the Marina today; please do not waste your time and I request you to get back to your duties, even going by your beliefs it is not safe to be here when a monstrous snake attacks a city, please leave” The bearded man shouted into a megaphone, considerably reducing the enthusiasm across the spectrum of people who had gathered.
“This is the last warning, I cannot shout anymore; if you do not heed we have no other option but to run you down either by horses or let the dogs out on you; both these animals are being readied as we speak”
That however was the catch, nobody wanted to be chased by dogs, and the crowd turned around and started to leave. That was the moment when fantasy had ceased and reality had begun.
It was just at that moment, the waters of the sea gently parted.
Not far away, in the hallowed classroom the boy who could not speak wrote in the corner of a page, “It is here”
End of Chapter One <or so we think>