Neel Dervin and the Dark Angel (13 page)

Neel nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” he admitted, but then added awkwardly,
“Although I‟m not sure about the fast learning part.I still don‟t feel any different that way.”

 

“We‟ll worry about that when the time comes.” Arjun said. He took Neel to the bars,
and to where a wall about six feet off the ground had been built.

 

Arjun leaned back against the wall, his hands folded against his chest. “Have you ever
heard of Parkour?”

 

Neel considered the word for a moment, then shook his head.

“It‟s clearly visible in a lot of areas
nowadays.” Arjun said. “I‟m sure you‟ve seen
movies where a person is shown running over buildings, over a large variety of obstacles,
climbing over walls within seconds, jumping down from great heights and rolling to the
ground?”

“Yeah, sure.” Neel said. Stunts like those were a staple part of action films, from Casino
Royale to Barrier thirteen.

“That is parkour.” Arjun said. “
For a long time its various techniques were scattered in
different disciplines, which have only recently been incorporated into a single activity by a
man called David Belle. Parkour is defined as the ability to move from place A to B with
minimum effort, no matter how many obstacles are placed in you path. If you can master that
technique, you will be able to travel over any terrain and anypart of the city with ease.”

Neel nodded, excitement surging up within him. “So let‟s get started.”

“Not just yet.” Arjun said with a smile. “Useful as it is, parkour is also very,
very
dangerous. It deals with movement over highly unusual terrain at very high speeds. That type
of activity needs constant, completely focused attention. Even a single slip can lead to serious
accidents. There have been cases of broken collarbones and shattered ribs as well as spinal
injuries. So I need your undivided attention for this.”

Arjun indicated the bar
s around them. “First we‟ll be learning the basic movements.
Then we‟ll practice them till you feel you can do them in your sleep. Let‟s go.” There was a
high bluff constructed at the end with steps leading to the top.

Arjun went up the bluff and looked down at Neel from the height. “This is a technique
that soldiers use as well.” He said. “Learning to jump down from a height is one of the most
fundamental disciplines of parkour. Its how you protect your body from the force of impact
when you jump from a great height.”

Arjun stood up to his full height, and then bent forward slightly. For a moment he hung
there, seconds away from falling down. Then he jumped neatly and landed on the ground. At
the moment that his feet touched the ground, he tucked his legs in and rolled over his
shoulders on the ground.

“You see?” he said, looking at Neel.“The landing room is spread over a large area
instead of a single point, which reduces the force of impact of the fall.”

 

“Yeah, I see how this works.” Neel nodded slowly. “But Doctor Fahim told me my
bodies really strong now. Will it really matter if I don‟t roll like that?”

“It‟s not just
a matter of your safety.” Arjun said. “Do you remember what happened
when you jumped yesterday? When you landed back on the ground, you left a huge hole on
its surface. Imaginejumping like that all the time. You‟ll cause a large amount of damage to
the surrounding area.”

“Oh, right.” Neel nodded. “So how shouldI do this?”

Arjun showed him the correct method to roll on the ground. Neel rolled slowly over and
over again, taking care to keep his head safely tucked in. His back proved uncooperative with
his neck, and he found it hard to roll on his back like Arjun had, who made him repeat the
movement until he had grasped the rudiments of the technique.

“Now repeat the roll until I tell you to stop.” Arjun said as he stepped back.

“I knew you were going to say that.” Neel remarked. He repeated the roll, taking a round
of the small field. This time his speed was much slower as he was concentrating on the
technique, and he had to keep checking and rechecking his posture whenever his head or
arms started to get in the way of his smooth rolling.

Then Arjun led Neel to an empty spot on the field, and sat down cross legged on the
floor, motioning for Neel to do the same. Neel sat down in front of him.

“Before we continue, you need to understand your brain more thoroughly.” Arjun said.
“People use two brain modes to view the world. The analytical-rational mode is slow and
logical, and the intuitive experiential is fast and emotionally driven. The second mode is
largely instinctive, and it comes into play when we are in a potentially dangerous situation.
Its response cannot be completely controlled by our conscious mind. Do you understand what
I‟m saying?”

Neel nodded. “I think so.” he said slowly. “When my brain runs faster, it‟s in that
second mode, and thenI can‟t control it because my instincts take over.”

“Exactly.” Arjun said, leaning forward. “But it doesn‟t have to be
so. An increased brain
speed is not as unmanageable as it sounds. We can dream about months and years in a few
hours of sleep. That‟s because our mind compiles the information from the dream
environment at a much faster speed, and we don‟t even realize it‟s happening. Hyperactive
people have the same problem; their brain often works faster than they can control it.”

“So that‟s what my brain does in real life now?” Neel asked.

“It absorbs information at a much faster rate because
your brain works much more
quickly now, and it wants to receive the information as quickly as possible.” Arjun said. “But
your mind is designed to help you, not work against you. So if you want it to slow down, you
can get it todo so.”

“It‟s really hard to
manage.” Neel said. “Ever since waking up I‟ve felt like I‟ll go back
to my fast brain speed if I don‟t hold onto it every second. And that‟s when everything is
calm and peaceful!”

“It‟s a new
skill.” Arjun said. “That‟s why it seems so hard now. As controlling it
becomes a habit, it‟ll get easier. You saw how easily you slowed down after running at full
speed. That was an instinctive reaction. You need to turn that instinct into something you can
control. We‟ll go through meditation and breathing techniques to help your mind and body
work together again.”

Neel nodded and stared down at the ground for a moment without saying anything.
Arjun remained silent as well, sensing his hesitancy. “So…” Neel spoke up finally. He stared
up at Arjun doubtfully. “What do you think? Can I learn all this in a few months like Doctor
Fahim said I have to?”

Arjun stared at him dispassionately. “Do you know what will happen a week from now?
Can you control any part of time except the present?”

 

Neel stared back. “I… no.”

“The
nwhy worry about something that is still months away?” Arjun said. “I told you,
how well you learn all of this depends on how committed you are to working on it. After that,
all the speculation in the world is pointless, and all the expert opinions are, in the end, just
opinions. Just remember, one step at a time.”
* * *

Arjun dropped Neel back at the spot from where he had picked him up earlier that day. It
was five in the afternoon, and the day was still quite bright and sunny.

 

“I‟ll see you here tomorrow, then.” Arjun said as Neel got out of the car. “Take care,
Neel.”

 

“Thanks. You too.” Neel said.

 

He watched the car disappear from view, and then walked over to his cycle, swinging
his bag over his shoulder. Soon he was on his way back home.

 

Upon reaching his house, he saw that his mother was back. He opened the front gate and
parked his cycle inside, calling out to his mother.

 

“Were you all right at the coaching?” his mother asked after greeting him.

 

“Yeah,I felt fine.” Neel said. “Were you going somewhere?” His mother was dressed up
and looked ready to depart.

 

“There‟s a sale onat Meena Bazaar.” she explained. “I‟ve called Bhim. He‟ll be along
any minute.”

“Should
I come too?” Neel offered. Sales were important events that saved them
considerable expenses for the rest of the month, and his mother was usually laden with good
by the end of each trip.

His mother hesitated. “I don‟t know, dear.” she said dubiously. “You shouldn‟t over
exert yourself. And you‟ve just come back from your coaching.”

 

“Mom, I‟m completely fine now.” Neel assured her yet again. “And I don‟t feel tired at
all. I can help you carry the grocery and things.”

His mother hesitated for a second more. But he did look completely healthy, and they
both knew how hard it was to carry everything alone. Finally she nodded, “Very well. You‟ll
get some fresh air. But don‟t carry too much, and we‟ll come back as quickly as we can
manage.”

“Okay.” Neel said. Their doorbellrang. “That‟s probably Bhim.” his mother said. “Let
me get the bag and then we can go.”

She brought out their bag, a very large affair with an extremely bright and lurid pink
color. Neel always felt slightly embarrassed carrying it. But it was very useful when there
were a lot of things to hold, and had never split open or become frayed from use.

They came out of their house to see an ancient man smiling at them toothlessly through
the bars of the main gate. He was lean and tiny, his skin rough and blackened from over
exposure to the sun. He drove a rickshaw as old as himself, and had taken Neel to school on it
when he had been too young to go on the cycle.Bhim‟s hard profession had never managed
to dampen his cheerful disposition, and as long as Neel could remember he had had a grin on
his face.

“Evening, Ma‟am.” he said to Neel‟s mother. “All set to go?”

 

“Yes, Bhim.” Neel‟s mother said, locking the door behind her. “We‟ll just go to bazaar
and back as quickly as wecan.”

 

“And how are you, young sir?” Bhim asked cordially, when Neel had taken his seat on
the rickshaw. “I heard you‟d had an accident?”

 

“It wasn‟t anything serious.” Neel shrugged. Then hegrinned. “I don‟t have to go to
school for a week.”

 

“Ar, it‟s always best to focus on the positive.” Bhim chuckled as Neel‟s mother sat next
to Neel. “Everyone seated all right? Let‟s go then.”

He gripped the handle of the rickshaw and the seat on which he sat, and slowly wheeled
the vehicle forward. When it had gained sufficient momentum, he leapt neatly onto the seat
and started work on the pedals. Soon the rickshaw had achieved a smooth, leisurely pace.

Neel sat holding the large pink bag and stared at the surroundings. He always enjoyed
the gently rocking motion of the rickshaw, even though it was a source of wonder that the
rickety and creaking vehicle, which looked like a strong gust of wind would reduce it to
splinters, could battle on gallantly for years under Bhim‟s guidance without breaking down.
While his mother asked Bhim about the shortest way to the bazaar, his thoughts drifted over
to all he had seen that day at Swan lab.

They reached the bazaar to find a large crowd milling around the shops. News of the
sale had reached households fast, and on every side Neel saw women young and old haggling
with shop keepers, or waving their bag menacingly at anyone who got in their way or looked
like they might be reaching for the item they wanted.

“We need some detergent first.” Neel‟s
mothers said to him once they had gotten off the
rickshaw and were standing in the middle of the busy market. Neel held the bag ready as he
followed his mother around the shops. He knew the drill on these occasions. He was to hold
the bag open for his mother while she deposited various things in it, and once the bag became
too heavy to lift, to stand guard over it while his mother brought yet more items to place
inside.

The sale was highly satisfactory, and the bag filled rapidly. The familiar scene of the
marketplace was made disconcerting by the blaring crescendo of sound that assaulted Neel‟s
sensitive ears from every direction, emanating from enthusiastic shop owners proclaiming the
superiority and high value of their wares, and cynical housewives who were stoutly refusing
to pay the marked price.

“Madam, I can‟t sell you the shirt for one third theprice.” Neel heard an exasperated
shop keeper shout over thedin. “I‟ll go broke in a day if I sell at suchprices.”
“What‟s the point of calling it a sale, then?” came the irate reply. “I might as well just
buyit from the shop. Get better quality too, no doubt!”

“World‟s best spices!” a
nother voice caroled blithely. “Brought in special from Hong
Kong and China and Malaysia and…” The voice trailed away vaguely, the owner‟s
knowledge of South Asian countries apparently exhausted. “With special ingredients from
America and France and Germany!” he burst out again in sudden inspiration, his voice being
drowned abruptly by the powerful engine of a car on the road.

“Always the same riff raffs come here setting up there nasty little shops on the street.”
Neel heard a fat woman sniff several feet away, while her perspiring daughter-in-law carried
two enormous bags filled with merchandise at her side. “You‟d think it‟d kill them to sell
some quality goods at these sales.”

Neel blinked rapidly as he turned his head slightly, absorbing the sounds coming at him
from every corner of the road. There was a buzzing at the back of his head that Doctor Fahim
had told him was the sound of some electric signals of a higher frequency that his ears were
now capable of picking up. It was all highly distracting, and he knew it would be just as bad
when he returned to school. If he could just learn to block out the unnecessary sounds…

“Neel!” His mother‟s voice broke through his preoccupation.

He looked up at her, puzzled. She was staring in horror at his arm, holding two cans of
milk motionless in her hands. Neel followed the direction of her gaze. The bag he was
holding was filled very nearly to its huge capacity, and was bulging on all sides. Even a fully
grown man would have had difficulty holding the bag up with both hands. Neel had it
wrapped casually around an arm by the strap.