Boogoon — The Legend in the Pipeline. The Myth of the Future.

By Prakash Kataria

Artwork by Vama Gupta

‘But why must we masturbate responsibly?’

Professor Neera glanced over her glasses.

‘Is it because the Boogoon is gonna get us?’ Ksheet added, mock seriously.

The class broke into a confused ejaculation. A few snorts and giggles appreciated the wit but most responded with grunts and shudders.

Neera stood hunched, listening.

‘Ma’am, we need a lot more logic from a sex education class. Else it’s just as silly as the Boogoon tales we were told as kids. We’re in the 22nd century, and I just don’t get our society’s regressive obsession with masturbation.’

Neera nodded, her eyes closed, as murmurs of support bolstered Ksheet’s arguments. Pushing her glasses up her crooked nose, she formed her measured reply.

‘Ksheet, child, the reasons are clear. For good hygiene.’

‘But all these dos and don’ts of masturbation are just so tedious they defeat the whole purpose. And why are the rules only for boys? The measures for condom disposal are more complicated than for e-waste!’

Neera looked at him sharply, whether proud or offended, one couldn’t say.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘for a boy of twelve, you see a lot, so that’s good. Though I hope you realise you’re not of the age yet to be disposing of condoms.’

A few sniggers erupted, cut short abruptly by the professor’s glare.

‘Yes, I do,’ Ksheet replied. ‘But what I also realise is that I’m not getting any answers. Even the internet is mum on this. Something is up. Really up.’

Neera ran her gaze along the tense waiting faces before her. Then, swiping the screen off, she placed her finger on the sensor to log the end of the class.

‘Nothing is up, Ksheet. It’s all simply about hygienic practices, whose importance you’ll realise once you grow up.’

‘Great,’ scoffed Ksheet. Collecting his screen and pencil, he stormed out of the class.

* * *Ksheet switched his skateboard to manual mode when he sensed a car slow down beside him. The window rolled down to reveal Professor Neera.

‘If you’re free, I’ll see what I can do to answer your questions. Why don’t you come home with me? I’ll ask your mom for her permission.’

* * *

Old-fashioned books and charts seemed to swallow the professor’s study. Evidently she took biology a lot more seriously than Ksheet had first thought. He was skimming through some of the books when the old professor returned with tea and oddly shaped cookies.

‘I have a rare book on Boogoons too, you know,’ Neera said with a smile as she sank into an armchair.

‘Definitely taking that home,’ Ksheet said, grinning.

Taking a deep sip from the cup, Neera asked casually, ‘So, what do you know about Boogoons?’

‘What every kid knows. That they torture boys who don’t listen to their parents, or don’t keep their rooms and city clean, or those who….who masturbate. Ha! And oh! That they apparently caused the Great Reduction.’

‘You don’t think they caused it?’

‘Everyone knows it was Climate Change.’

‘What about The Plague, then?’

‘Wasn’t that a part of Climate Change?’

‘What if I told you Boogoons too were a part of Climate Change?’

Ksheet snorted.

Neera took another long sip, her glasses almost plopping into the cup. Carefully removing them and keeping them aside, she said thoughtfully.

‘Child, today I’m going to tell you what not many dare say. Boogoons did exist — perhaps, still do. But not the way our parents have described.’

Ksheet’s eyes scanned her face for a practical joke.

‘They are far, far more terrible.’

Neera peered into the darkness beyond the window as if to draw inspiration from it. With a dreamy sigh, she began to explain.

‘The universe is infinitely big, and whatever we know has barely scratched the surface. Our failure to understand its ways, its intricate connections, its sheer wonders, is what led to Climate Change.

‘Climate Change wasn’t just about heat, winds and currents. At many levels, what we changed was Earth’s biology itself. You see, life evolves no matter what. All we can do is to steer its direction to an extent. But our ignorance and arrogance started a chain of events that made evolution take a ghastly turn.’

Ksheet’s attention was now rapt.

Decades before the Great Reduction, we had started to create conditions for a dark life to take shape. Piles and piles of garbage collected in dingy trenches, along with worms, rats, roaches… and who knows what else. Everything came together and brewed — what exactly they brewed is hard to say. And rusty forgotten pipelines became the network that connected these new uncharted environments.

‘It was also a time when sexual behaviour was at its most irresponsible. Masturbation was rampant, and the disposal of bodily fluids, thoughtless. As countless volumes of semen made their way to these drains, they formed a biological sheen of sorts. The pipes had become…well… a kind of womb…for a human seed to seek an ovum unknown. To nurture a life form that no one could have foreseen.’

‘Boogoon?’ Ksheet said, stirred.

Neera nodded.

‘But how do we know all this?’ Ksheet asked.

‘Like with all knowledge, it starts with a theory. And this one has the most evidence supporting it,’ Neera answered. Then reaching for a disk amidst the rubble of her books, she clinked it with his screen. ‘There, I’ve transferred a whole lot of material. From charts to passages to holo-GIFs. Go through them at leisure.’

Ksheet authorised the transfer and Neera continued.

‘This much is clear: they were monsters, and of our creation. They not only have our smartness but physical prowess so far exceeding ours that we wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

‘And we didn’t. People talk about The Great Plague but no one talks about the distinct bite marks, the bruises on noses, the punctures in the back of the ears.’

‘But why?’

‘Because those who have survived Boogoons know that they are best not spoken about. When we rebuilt the world, there was barely anyone left who hadn’t had an encounter with them. But few broke their silence, to prepare the future generations. And the mere recalling of the events made them breathe their last.’

‘My mother was among them,’ she added quietly.

‘What do they look like?’ asked Ksheet, too curious to spare a word of condolence.

A faint rumble in the walls made Neera cast a nervous glance around her. Lowering her voice to a hush, she answered.

‘Some say they are like smoke, some say they wriggle like worms. Some describe them with skin of plastic, others call them metallic. One interesting memory is of them being ‘charming’. But this much is clear: they’re shape-shifters, and with powers beyond our grasp.’

‘But what do they want? And where are they now?’ asked Ksheet, lowering his voice to match the professor’s.

‘No one knows. It seems like one fine day, they just decided to leave us alone. There are, of course, other theories. Some think they found a better habitat while others think they were driven to extinction because of lack of garbage. But the explanation I find most credible is, they are not reproducing enough. Maybe our strict regulations on bodily fluid disposal have kept them in check.’

The relief that crossed Ksheet’s face faded quickly.

‘But by no means should you consider them gone. Every now and then, new evidence emerges hinting at their activity. But what’s most worrying is,’ Neera shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, ‘No one’s ever found a dead Boogoon.’

A chilling silence had fallen, broken only by the periodic drip of the kitchen tap.

‘But why only tell me?’

Neera sighed. ‘The fear is, if everyone knows about them, they might feel threatened enough to return. The enemy is unknown; it’s wise not to provoke it. On the other hand, we need to prepare the young ones.’

‘So, now that I know… now what?’ Ksheet asked.

‘Nothing. Just…accept. And expect.’

* * *

The smart mirror stopped projecting vistas of the valley to show Ksheet enter his bathroom. He washed his face repeatedly, lost in thought, till the tap beeped a warning. As he wiped his face, he noticed a glitch in the mirror as the speakers burst forth with sounds of moans. He stepped back, startled.

On the mirror’s surface was a naked woman pleasuring herself with abandon. He hurriedly swiped off the mirror screen and looked around with tense eyes. Far in the distance, a device beeped.

Ksheet got into bed and pulled his blanket over him. It must have been a malware, he thought. But flashes of desire kept him from sleeping. He tossed and turned, fighting the urge to relieve himself. Not now, not today! he begged himself. After all that you heard! He felt possessed. The old lady could be nuts, he reasoned. Boogoons do not exist !

The smart mirror showed Ksheet entering the bathroom. This time he brought the screen alive, the woman still moaning. His one hand pressed against the wall as the other did what it had to. So absorbed was he that he didn’t notice the corner tiles move. Muddy eyes appeared in the cracks and blinked. A creature with human contours emerged from the wall. A hint of a smile formed on its rusty lips before it slipped through the pores of the floor drain.