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Pazhaniraja Elangovan trudged his way up the small slope on his rusty bicycle, a hand-me-down from one of his rare kind-hearted clients. A package, a heavy brown carton lay tied to the backseat with several ropes. The chains creaked as he pedaled harder on the slope.
Sweat trickled down his shiny brown face. Tiny buds of fresh acne dotted his forehead and chin area that was also beginning to sprout hair.
"Pazhani, don't keep loitering out in the hot sun," his Amma often chided him gently.
Pazhaniraja would dismiss his Amma's plea with silence.
She had suffered enough bringing him up single-handedly but was still worldly naive. What did she know about managing a part-time job as a local delivery boy, a night school, and a full-time dream? thought Pazhani irritatedly but also controlled his tongue.
His dream. Yes, he dreamed of owning his own business someday and making lots of money. He had many ideas but needed time to work on them.
Today, he thought excitedly. Wednesdays was usually a little free on the work front. His friend had promised to introduce him to someone who was willing to listen to his idea.
Even as he got lost in his thoughts about this meeting, his phone rang. It was his boss who had also given him the phone to attend to the ad-hoc work related calls and messages.
What now!? Pazhani frowned.
"Pie!" barked the voice, "Have you delivered the carton? Now, get to 12th Main, Rajaji Street. Mr. Sarathy will give you a parcel to be delivered to a place in Maruthi Nagar, Hambalipur."
"And, hurry on, it's urgent." added the gruff voice, almost out of breath.
Pie was what his exacting manager called Pazhaniraja because he found the latter's name tongue-twisting and would end up murdering his birth name. In fact, it was Pazhaniraja who suggested the nickname. He was fascinated by pie diagrams. Of course, there was the homophone too. Though, he never understood it.
Pie mentally calculated the distance between the two places and the time taken to cover it on his cycle. It was going to take him all day and he'd have to miss the meeting and will perhaps be late to school too.
Breathing out rapidly, Pie swung his leg over the seat and stepped up on the pedal.
"I think I now understand Pi. Sometimes, even when there's no logic, one must go on!"
****
Late to link up to the second day of the BarAThon. Based the story on the prompt, "Life of Pie".
Outnumbered
A new haven
The fault lies in our stares
