Bloody Foreigners.

story by: Durlabh Singh
Written on May 31, 2013

BLOODY  FOREIGNERS.



It was Saturday evening and throngs of crowds were milling around in the center of the town, in anticipation for the pleasures of night – drinks, violence, food or anything else available, including any available sexual indulgences.

 The long rays of the setting sun were pouring down the streets painting those mean streets into shades of crimson and blood red.

He was walking down the high street on his way to take an underground train. People were shouting at each other in elated fashion or in angry tones, which soon turned to racial abuse with filthy undertones. Being a minority he felt nervous and frightened.

Suddenly he heard behind shouts of racial taunts. He ignored it and quickened his pace to get away from the mob. The voices followed him, followed by sounds of big running foot thumps on the pavement.

He turned around a saw a party of youths of mixed sex, a gang on their abusive spree.

Someone stuck him hard from behind and he fell forward hitting his face on hard
pavement stones. He felt taste of blood in his mouth and penetrating pain in his face and elbow. He felt dazed disoriented and sickened.

Before other expected blows, he managed to get up and confronted his attackers. Nothing mattered now but to confront those animals and to shower his pent up indignation on the abusing parties. He fought back and lunged in his rage and managed to bring two of them down and he wrestled with rest of the attacking party.

The party felt slighted and in revenge all of them started hitting and kicking him. A blonde girl did a sort of war dance wriggling her body and shouted

“ Kill the f---- bastard, kill the bloody foreigners" He was thrown into the ground again with sudden thrust of attackers. Blows and kicks came from all angles and he felt nauseating pain and felt his bones cracking under their fierce attacks. Someone managed to hit him between his eyes with a metallic object and a he felt a paralyzing daze in his brain and passed out.

When he came around after an unknown lapse of time and found himself crawled on the payment. Crowds were still milling around but nobody paid any attention to him.

A gruff voice came out of the sky and he saw a burly policeman standing over him and ordering him to get up. He tried to explain to him in his choked voice about the attack but he was told by the policeman that he was just a trouble maker picking up fights with some decent folks and furthermore he was obstructing the pavement and if he did not get up immediately he was likely to be charged with an offence and arrested for disturbing the peace..

He felt hurt and broken and asked the policeman to take him to the nearest hospital pointing out to his oozing blood from cut on his face and the soaked garments.

The policeman told him to go home as he had no time to waste on such trivial matters and that he had more important things to do. He felt bruised, slighted with inner tremors of
humiliations.

He got up and staggered to catch the next train for home, from the nearest station.


Durlabh Singh© 2012.


 

Tags: sad, anger, pain,

 

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