Antony Fartey was ten when he first felt as he was feeling now. His face was pale and he was sweating as though his body was nothing but a shower. His light blue shirt had sweat marks at armpit, at shoulder and at collarbone. The air conditioned atmosphere of his cosy cabin had no effect on him. He looked restless and troubled. He loosened the tie and closed the lid of his laptop. He went back on his chair and tried to relax. He closed his eyes and wished this would get over, very soon.
No, he was in no state to bear it. He stood up and walked two rounds in his office. He opened the gate of his cabin and went towards the washroom, two cabins away. He was about to enter there when a guard stopped him. ‘Sir, there’s some plumbing work going on, No one can use the washroom today.’
Antony cursed the man whose face he saw when he woke up in morning. That was a threatening situation for him. He called his secretary and asked her to cancel all his today’s appointments. He started to run in the corridor, slipped twice and dashed two persons in his way and did not even care to apologise. Entire office looked at him in disbelief. He had realised that he had a very little time left. He took the elevator, entered in and pressed minus-one button. Elevator accelerated down quickly, became steady then decelerated till it stopped at parking. Antony could feel every single movement happening to and in his body. He reached to his car and entered in there, took some deep breathes and pushed the accelerator hard enough that tyres made two skid marks on pavement. On his way he jumped four red lights and almost killed a man and his wife who were crossing the road.
After some fifteen minutes of reckless driving when he reached his apartment, his legs were trembling. They were weak and strained. He opened the gate. His dog jumped on him and licked his hand. His wife looked worried when she saw him in that condition. Antony pushed both of them and went straight to the washroom.
Ten minutes later when he came out, his wife had swathed her face with a thick cloth and was spraying room freshener at everywhere. His dog was barking like an animal that just had gone crazy. The entire apartment was filled with obnoxious smell of human excreta. And amid all of this, Antony Fartey was standing at the washroom gate, his hand on his stomach, a heartfelt smile on his lips. Antony Fartey was perhaps the happiest man on the earth.