Lucky Kim

&

His Portrait of G.C Street as a

Fanfare

Chapter-1

 I am a spy. Self-made, self certified, self-motivated. I am in a jungle with a pair of binoculars, watching the preys and predators as they go about their ways as if under a divine spell. My work is to spy, and not to interfere let alone setting things right. And that matter remains the same even if I see an innocent lamb getting clobbered by a wildly-wise jaguar.

After all I am a spy not a sniper…

      I am a plain, job-focused, private eye, eying what concerns my trade and my predilections. It was hard to reconcile my utilitarian instincts with a no-profit work as this spying thing, yet in a one lifetime, there’s place for only one love, and the slot’s taken by the latter.

                    I am Lucky Kim, coy and social, living in my world and spying on others. The job’s got me hooked and despite quite a few close-calls, I don’t look back in anger when it all started. Right at the end of Gandhi Churchill Street rests my humble abode. The bountiful colony, of which luckily I am a part of, is a bubbling pot of this and that eccentricity. To witness an illustrative slice of the world we live in right outside your doorstep, is sure a lucky thing.

            For my story, it wouldn’t be decorous if I expose my guinea pigs, out rightly with their names and families, so I have chosen pseudonyms for each of my subject of espionage.

 The Light-Seekers, the Ruckus-mongers, the Hospitable-meeks, the Big name-empty talkers, the Out of Sync-preachers, and finally the Senior Kin-Aliens.

             Catchy aren’t they, yet all the more fitting aliases. It wasn’t hard to stamp these people with such labels, they just after three-four meetings, stick out their distinguishing traits. Funny, it’s in my hands to assassinate their characters, which so fondly I dream, you know by telling  them on their face, their seamy streaks and move them to penance, or perhaps publish it all but then again why worry and tar  this story with their dirty inks. Let them discern, while I for my work am a spy, not a vigilante…