COLLISION

Raju Singh was fat. He was short. He was unhappy. He would switch on the television, and he would see the thin people, the happy people. They would always smile. They smiled when they talked to other happy people, when they walked on their light-as-air shoes, when they ate food that made them stretch their lips even more to the point of saturation as they talked about how it was oh-so-scrumptious, when they slept on their comfortable beds, when they brushed their shiny teeth,when they read bedtime stories to their happy children. Even when they were unhappy, they faked a smile.

"I shall become thin.", he announced to noone in particular, just himself. He did in the elevator, and the people stared at him, but he no longer cared. They laughed at him when they realized he was serious, and he felt embrassed. But his mind was made up. He went to the gym.

"I wish to join the gym. How much does it cost for a year's membership?"
"That will be Rs. 1000, sir."
"Rs. 1000? No way! Make it Rs. 25000 and you got a deal!"
"25?! That's not possible! How about 8000?"
"15000 and that's my final offer!"
"Slim chance, fat man! Maybe I'll go up to 12000. But nothing else!"
"Fat chance, slim man! Maybe I'll go down to 13000. No more!"
"Alright fine, you win! 13000 it is."
"Whoo hoo!"

Raju Singh danced about, shook the man's hand, signed the papers, and notified The Telegraph about his plan. The news was in the front page the next day, and the story was picked up and pursued by The Times of India, The Hindustan Times, and soon The Guardian and other foreign newspapers. Reporters came in from everywhere, from all the cities of the world, each one asking the same questions. He gave interviews wherever he went, he was pursued on his way to the office, on his way from the office, in his car, in his house, in his friends' houses. It did not matter where he was. He was being followed.

The next day, he went to the gym to start his training. The cameras were everywhere. They followed as he ran as fast as his body would allow him, a few hundred metres an hour. Reporters walked leisurely behind him, occasionally overtaking him, occasionally tripping him, just to see him fall. Each time he fell, it would become harder and harder for him to get up, and he finally he could no longer rise. The journalists sang inspirational songs for him to lift his spirits, and when they couldn't do it, they lifted him up themselves.
Two people lifted him up, one on either side. They were huge men, bald, with facial hair, the usual tough guys so that one can visualize them easy. One man walked towards him.

"Listen, I know its tough, but you gotta hang in there."
"You don't know how tough it is for me!"
"Sure I do. I got problems too, you know."
"But you're smiling."

The man went closer to Raju Singh's face, and his nose flared.

"I do have my problems."
"Like what?"
"My mother's in a coma and my father turned out to be a homosexual."
"So your mother's a vegetable and your father's a fruit. Big deal!"
"That's a crude way of putting it."
"You should have an explanation mark there, you know."
"Really?"
"Really."
"They matter?"
"They matter."
"That's a crude way of putting it!"
"Much better?"
"What?"
"Much better."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Oh golly gee! Thank you so much!"

He walked away with a smile on his face, or he walked away with the smile on his face intact, stronger than ever, overcoming even the depressed, forcing their lips to straighten at the very least, and curl like a satisfied cat in the opposite direction at the very most. He became a supermodel-cum-politician. His million-dollar smile made him a million dollars, and his presidential smile made him President.

Or did becoming president make his smile presidential?

Why is president written with a capital P?
It happened naturally.

"Oh, sure, walk away now, just when its getting tough! I knew you'd do that!"
"What did you just say?"
"You always walk away when the going gets tough."
"I dare you to say that again."
"You always walk away when the going gets tough."
"Gasp! How dare you?!"
"You dared me too!"
"Gasp!"

One of the huge bald men with facial hair walked over, one finger pointed at the other huge bald man with facial hair, the other at the gasping man.

"I haven't introduced the two of you yet, have I?"
"No you haven't."
"A.K.Dhar, meet O.K.Kar."

Which is which? Nobody knows.

Raju Singh realized he was free, and he ran. They never caught him. They never had a chance. They were introducing themselves to each other, and Raju ran like the wind, blowing all obstacles out of the way, even the elderly.

When they realized he had gotten away, it was too late. He was in sunny Mexico, relaxing on a beach chair, a glass of vodka in one hand, a bottle of vodka in the other. There was someone beside him. Someone else on a beach chair, someone else who had gotten away. An elephant, wearing dark glasses, a gold chain, and striped purple trunks. They were alone.

"I heard you got away from them."
"Yes, yes I did."

The elephant smiled, his shiny white teeth reflecting the sun.

"Boy, you and I are going to change the world."