Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts

Thursday, 13 September 2012

Soak No More

'SOAK NO MORE', shouted the young and wise, Hari. All the remaining seven donkeys shouted back with him.

'A long time ago there was a salt merchant. He used to get very irritated with his lazy donkey. One day while doing his usual work of carrying loads of salt on his back the lazy donkey fell down in a stream. The salt on his back dissolved, thus the load was gone and the donkey walked out joyfully, devising a  wicked plan for many such journeys to come. The lazy donkey continued to do so many times and he would walk back happily. The merchant although unsuspecting at first, understood this act and decided to teach the lazy donkey a lesson.'

Dharampur was flourishing day by day since the Independence, it was the year 1950. Since the British had left the country there was a lot of scope for the Indians to develop and prosper. One such villager was Shyamlal, a merchant in Dharampur. He bought and sold almost everything that he could get in his hands and make profit. Automobiles had yet to make their way in the lives of the Indians of that era so mostly people depended on animals. But this is not a story of Shyamlal or Dharampur, nor has it got anything to do with the Indians or British, it is the story of the DONKEYS.

'The salt merchant one day fed up with the cunning nature and the laziness of his lazy donkey thought of putting an end to this act. He packed the same quantity of load but this time it was of 'cotton' and not salt as usual on the back of the donkey. Today instead of sending his usual servant to accompany the donkey he decided to go himself. The stupid donkey didn't realize what was stored in for him' 

Shyamlal owned eleven donkeys for transportation of goods from his storehouses/godowns to the markets. Out of the eleven there were three cruel donkeys - Santhu, Biju and Lala. These three donkeys were the strongest and the cunning of the eleven owned by Shyamlal. They used their power and cunning tactics to oppress the other donkeys. They never worked hard in fact they didn't work at all. It was the other donkeys who suffered but they could do nothing since they were scared of these three.

'As the stream approached the donkey knew what he had to do. A cunning smile appeared on his face. He didn't care if it was his merchant and not the usual servant who was accompanying him. He staged his jump in the stream as if it was an accident but the merchant knew better.'

Hari, was a young and clever donkey. He was very idealistic and kind. He had a crave for learning. Watching humans he had understood that the only way to progress and improve life was to get educated. Babu, son of Shyamlal sometimes took Hari to school and used to tie Hari outside the school, it was good enough for Hari because he could hear the voice of the teacher teaching inside, thus Hari was the only donkey to get educated. Hari also learned that the three donkeys - Santhu, Bijju and Lala who said that they were from England were lying and also that India had got independence three years back. So now even if Santhu and the other two were from England there was no need to be afraid of them because if India was free then so were the INDIAN DONKEYS !!

'The moment the donkey jumped in, he realized what trouble he had put himself in, the cotton on his back just 'SOAKED' in more water and grew heavier. So it was difficult for him to walk, the merchant witnessing this, came down and starting hitting the donkey to walk ahead, continuing the journey with the increased load on his back. Thus the lazy donkey learned his lesson.'

One day the Babu's teacher was telling the students the story of 'The Salt Merchant And His Lazy Donkey', Hari was within the distance to hear it. He at once understood what needed to be done. But he wanted the story to end differently in his case.
The day Hari awaited finally occurred, Shyamlal had bought a new big godown and wanted to shift some stuff in it. As usual the three cruel donkeys declared that it would be the other donkeys who would carry out all the heavy things but Hari had something better in his mind. he divided the load in such a way that the eight donkeys had to carry five times more then the three cruel donkeys which pleased Santhu, Biju and Lala. But Hari made sure that those three donkeys carried nothing else on their back except 'cotton'.
On the day of moving too, he convinced everyone that it would be wiser to take the road from the bridge across the river. After the three donkeys left, he called in other donkeys and told them about his plan. After telling them what was in his mind, he shouted, 'SOAK NO MORE, we have soaked enough because of them, its their turn to be soaked now.' Everyone agreed.
'SOAK NO MORE', shouted the young and wise, Hari. All the remaining seven donkeys shouted back with him.

On the way while moving, when the donkeys came on the bridge, Hari along with the two other donkeys took positions besides - Santhu, Biju and Lala. At the signal of Hari, the donkeys pushed the trio into the river, the light weight of cotton on their back now suddenly increased. Hari smiled to himself, the river was deep and the donkeys had fallen in the middle of the river, so in a matter of few seconds or maybe a couple of minutes they would be drowned. Santhu, Biju and Lala, looked up and found all other donkeys enjoying at their dying sight, they kept praying for a miracle while muttering to the load of cotton on their backs to SOAK NO MORE please, because the weight of that cotton kept pulling them down in the river and thus caused their death.
Shyamlal was sad because he lost his three donkeys. Three years ago he had been very happy on this day when India got her Independence. But somehow the happiness of opening a new big godown surpassed the sadness of losing those three donkeys.
Hari went back to the other donkeys and said, 'Happy Independence Day.'
The era of soaking had been finished. Now they would have to SOAK NO MORE !!

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This story is my entry for The Surf Excel Matic #SoakNoMore Contest at Indiblogger.

Monday, 20 February 2012

The Body Builder - 55 Fiction


"DON'T LET ANYTHING, EVEN DEATH STOP YOU FROM DOING WHAT YOU LIKE."
His father had said that.
Body building was Jack's passion. It was like breathing for him. He picked up his usual weights and started to exercise. He looked at the crashed smith machine and that fateful event that had cost him his life."
 


You can curse me for wasting your time if you want. :P
This was my first attempt at 55 words fiction.
In fact it was just a thought that occurred when I was as usual sitting idle and pretending to exercise at gym today morning. A well built guy walked in and was exercising in front. Looking at him and his passion for body building I couldn't help but think of this weird story about how nothing, even death can stop him from pursuing his passion. :P

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Short Story : The Robbery


PROLOGUE


Our guy with camera was busy taking pictures of the building from it's front and surroundings. He was smiling more with every second passing and couldn't wait to finish his job soon.

Our second guy who was standing in front of the bank, looked sadly towards it. After every few seconds he would take out his wallet and look at the picture of his kid girl, then smile for a while and again return his gaze towards the bank.

Our third guy was riding throughout the area on his new sports bike, on which he had done some modifications himself to suit for the job. He was just so lost in his thoughts for the job next day.

All of our three guys were so lost in their respective thoughts that they could care little about the rest of the world. Each one of them had a perfect plan and had made proper efforts to succeed.

The BANK JOB

It was a Monday morning and people were back to work after enjoying their weekend. All the things seemed normal and fine.

A guy in black suit entered through the gate and was ready to knock off the security guard, but was surprised when he did not find the guard there.

A few minutes earlier a guy in grey suit had got surprised too.

With no time to waste, the guy in black suit grabbed a man in red suit as soon as he came inside and with one gun shot in the air enough to scare people, he loudly declared his intentions. Holding everyone at the gunpoint, he asked them to get to a corner.

The guy in grey suit got puzzled over what was happening in the middle of his job. He confronted the guy in black suit, to which the guy in black suit didn't take good.

The guy in black suit just started to fire and the guy in grey suit got lucky and killed him in counter fire. 

The guy in red suit now freed since the guy in gray suit had shot the guy in black suit. He first got annonyed thinking that his job had got hijacked by first the guy in black suit and now by this guy in gray suit.

The guy in gray suit finally succeeded in taking money from the locker, by telling the cashier to do that. He was holding a lady at a gun point.

The guy in red suit was looking at the guy in black suit now lying dead in the middle of the floor. The guy in gray was in front, taking the filled bags. Without a second thought,
the guy in red suit took out the gun.

The guy in gray suit was quick to notice the actions of the guy in red suit, he shot him even before the guy in red suit could point out the gun.

The guy in gray suit now with the bags and a lady at the gun point, got out of the bank. He took the lady with him as a hostage, a safety measure if he would be confronted by the police on the way later. As soon as he got out, he made her sit in his car and drove away.

EPILOGUE

The manager and cashier, who earlier had been unsuccessful in putting on the alarm, now were calling the police.

The man in black suit who was dead stayed still the floor . A small part of some black colored device, something like a camera was out from his pocket.

Outside the bank, stood a sports bike, whose rider had come dressed in the red suit, and now it was left owner-less.

A lady was walking happily, surviving the accident and carrying bags filled with fortune.

The man in gray suit had his head resting on the steering wheel in the same way as his car was resting on the tree. A few minutes earlier he was struggling with the lady inside the car, to get hold of his gun. She had grabbed it, when he was looking at the photo in his wallet and didn't had his the attention on the gun. The car had gone out of control and a tree stood still on their way.

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

i opened the door by saumya nair

It has been a really long time since I have written anything worth posting. Hope so I start writing something good and come back to blogging soon.
This post, a short story is 
from my friend SAUMYA NAIR.

I OPENED THE DOOR


            I opened the door and saw no one there! Did someone really knock the door or was it just a feeling? I was eager to know who knocked the door, if the person responsible existed.  I placed my foot outside the door, though I was warned not to do so by my parents. I walked into the garden.
       
The garden seemed to be beautiful even in the dark. I didn’t want to disturb the atmosphere here but I was forced to do so. I took a glance at my house to see how it actually looks in the absence of daylight! My house seemed to be haunted. All this scared me a little. Hence I decided to move forward. The silence was lost as I walked over some dried leaves. I felt as though some one was following me as I could hear sounds made by footsteps. I was curious and at the same time scared. I turned back and screamed. I walked closer and closer to see who was standing by the tree only to see that it was a kite entangling on the lowermost branch of the tree.
       Without a second thought, I ran into the house. I was shocked to see the lights gone. Oh no! I myself had switched them off before leaving the house. How could I do such a stupid thing? I could feel the switchboard as I stretched my hand over the wall. I switched on the lights. I ran over to the sofa. I opened the book I was reading to the page where I had stopped. As I was reading I could feel my hair all over the body stand up. I turned the book to the cover only to see that I was reading a book entitled ‘Goosebumps’. Was it right to read such a book at such a time? Obviously not. 
       I closed the book. I ran over to my bed and shut my eyes tight .In the morn when I got up I saw the book on the table. But last time I had kept it on the sofa. Does this mean that whatever happened last night was just a dream? But it was possible that someone kept the book on the table. What do you think?