Tag: A short story

the sid’s narration (4/4)

Not often did the judge took time to personal appearances,

“I know, friend. The bill got me lucky .” said the judge over his phone.

The bill has been passed to make live coverage of court rulings on the request of people. Ninety-five percent of curious people say ‘aye’ to watch jury on the recent bomb attack. While the Sid walked into his house with a sheet of paper,

“Where have you been..?” asked his mother.

Pretending to be deaf, he increased the television volume.

“There he comes,..”

As the judge never liked his fat image in the mirror, he relayed his trust on good expressions.

The boss was the only man who stood lifeless in custody. The case was pretty strong against them. while the defense claims,

The thin man was delusional and …

Really, how often does that happen? Boss began to enjoy his thoughts.

The woman heard a lot of stories from him.

Few thousand bucks will make her write a novel.

“Yeah, I know he’s crazy. One day, he comes running and say, he was once a gladiator.” trying to look natural with her sheepish accent.

Why would anyone want this? who is my client? A client who can profit from everything…

His thoughts were interrupted by the next witness,

“How did you find the clip..?” Prosecutor asks the reporter.

“My husband…” She wiped her eyes, continues “ he was having an affair..” She made sure to get the attention.

Goddamn theatrics.

An unfortunate stream of thought led the boss to grin.

“Do you mean to insult the court ?” Judge stares at the boss.

The young Sid realized that his entire family was gathered to watch the ruling. While he was walking to his bedroom, he overheard a conversation,

“I would regret if I’ve missed any of it.”

“Yeah. The bill made it happen.”

“The bill, huh… I think the government has made a great decision before the election.”

The young Sid hold the paper and thought about how it landed on his own terrace.It might have produced a silly grin on Sid’s face but the euphoria of chasing his goal will prove to be everlasting.


Thank you for reading…





the baited thought (2/4)

The early hours of these days are much alike with a little variation in the weather conditions. It is a fact that the humidity causes irritation.

“Why should I buy you gloves every day ? ” he paused to remember something, “Don’t your university provide one ?”

“There is a say that the empty mind can be a good hand. I do need a good luck, don’t I ?” his sister teased.

After a bit of negotiation, he took a walk onto the street.

As the regular shop was closed, he cursed the fate to walk an extra mile. The cursed fate avenged with a mud water splashing on his face on the behalf of a car speeding ahead. With a few steps ahead of the shop, he decided to buy the gloves and washed his face.

“Why are you late ?” his mother asks for a reason.

“perhaps ‘for who’ is the right question..”


“Maybe he’s around to say hello to someone special…”

She knows who it is, yet to see her brother nervous make her happy.

Without any comments, he left home for a walk.

A stern voice startled him,

“Are you Rastogi..?” a policeman questioned.

I was made to sit in an empty room behind a desk. Few murmurs from a glass wall and a camera made to think of him as a witness for an interrogation. He was not proven wrong until a casual questionnaire turned into a debate and,

“Why did you do the theft ?”

With the aid of his memory, he quoted every happening of the past few days with the approximation by minutes. After an hour, they let him go and advised to stay in sight.

It was too hard for a Sherlockian spirit to leave a crime scene.

“ but I know a friend who said that he saw them….”

“Where?” eyes of the middle-aged stout man brightened, unlike the usual dull face went on a display for more than an hour.

“On crime.”

“Who is your friend?”  he began to note down.

“Unless I join you to find them..”

“Look, son…This is no game to start sliding with us. Now, tell me about your friend or I see you in court..”

Here is a puzzle to the boy. He knows that this is his last chance to call his bluff and get on with his life.

“My friend is very persuasive in authoring a tale..”

“A lie..?”

“Depends on how you propose, sir”

“Alright, I had enough of this… why is that grin..?”

“I know what this case made of, sir. I know every corner of our street. Your two-month operation leads to a dead end…right towards me. Besides, what do you lose…?”

The courage of the boy made it as a reasonable offer. The officer took a closer look at the boy,

“Get out. Too many are watching us…”



Thank you for reading……

To read the next quarter, click the sid’s narration (3/4).

the missing adjective (4/4)

There is a stern, often traced as a stone face appeared before the camera. The broadcast titled “The officer on the bridge” made a greater attention than expected. As it is a weekend, the count keeps going up on the dinner time. It took no time to tell the tale of an unforgettable incident in his life… With a sharp voice,

While I was guarding the bridge under my senior officer, I could see the despair mounting on every face. It’s been an uncomfortable period of work under the freezing atmosphere decorated with a full moon.

A young couple going home… A boy with a girl, certainly a prostitute… A man smuggling cocaine…

Past the hours of clichéd outcomes,

A young boy with dark eyes,

“Where are you going, kid?”

“To the city..”

I made no efforts to ask and started to check. The car began to accelerate into a wild beast, as I partially opened the truck.. I lost the balance and fall short of breaking the jaw. Everyone shifted their attention.

“I saw the blood..” I shouted.

My senior officer whom later I knew as the same man in the video ran up to me…

“Is there anyone inside?” He asked me in the hustle of alarm.


He processed the situation that I reckon with the help of past experiences.

“It is a setup. They are on the bridge.” He began to shout.

“Lock in’s and out’s. Send a few out on the pursuit. Move your asses, quick.” he turned to me and said “Tricky bastards. I will kill them”

While I read the descriptions of the car on the intercom, a soldier began to jog beside us and he didn’t bother to make his sentence sound low.

“That lady officer is damn hot. Isn’t she? ”

That sentence quickened the pace of blood in our nerves, as it seems only a few of us know that no lady is recruited for this operation.

Later on, we found two officers in the forest with a stolen clothes..”

This interview telecasted on the major channels of the city. Out of many people, only one man seemed to find his perspective of narration would be different.

“Hi, I am Rastogi verma..”

The other end of voice is a human, modified into a robot through the years.

“I am calling to know about a Journalist..”

He saw a picture on TV of a woman, who was said to be beside him on the bus.

Her eyes were dark…He thought she might not have a night sleep.

Her hair was blonde… She might have applied the dye.

He wanted the picture to be who it was supposed to be, but nothing felt true. The journalist erased her history. And once again, Rastogi was pushed into the mystery. He searched for days until a fine morning.

An envelope is on his doorstep. It is white on every side with no names. He opened to contain a letter along with a check…

“ Dear Rastogi,

I know this letter finds you with many doubts. Allow me to say that I am amazed. Although the story is a lie, it held the purpose. Ask it yourself, why would a fortunate woman like me spy on you unless..? In our whole journey, I always tempted to say that we share the same bloodline. I want to say one thing. I read your resignation letter while you’re typing beside me. We both know it is not the reason. I wonder how it would be the same man who saved my life when he truly believes a story to be true. Not a long ago, our father passed away in a peaceful way. We both have built this company through the storm of many unsuccessful years. I don’t consider money as a debt. The reason I give you a few of them is to say that it shouldn’t be a concern for what you really want. For the years forward,

Be seeing you…                                             ”

He smiled. A smile that exiled the feeling of mystery.

He went on for a vacation.

the missing adjective (2/4)

The news spread throughout the city within no time imitating an outburst of airborne virus. Though, victims are curious of how things would lead the fate of two people…

An enthusiastic voice followed by a dramatic music,

“A terrible terrorist attack on a bus. Two found missing, mostly suspected as goons. Seat reservations say an elderly…“

A news spokesman standing near vicinity with exhilarating eyes as if it is the day he had been trained for.

Twitter came up with #coupleincrime,

Facebook gave their sympathies,

And all the other followed…

A while ago,

The two people quivering, gathered strength to the best they have.

They have lost blood and the wounds are still bleeding. Yet nothing in their life seems so horrific than to see a blood pool of people who are so alive in the near past. Few voices outside the bus set the motion of events…

In one fussy moment,

She grabbed a bag and they climbed out of the bus into the forest.


They ran so fast, till the feet detached from their senses as to let the reality of past sink behind them. The fact that something that requires his life on the queue of death shook him.


“Oh s….I don’t underst..d. Wha.. is.. they.. wan..?” his fatigue made a sick spell of words.

“ The off-road robbery.” the female voice is stern as if attained by experience.


“It was a set-up.”

Few ticks of clock passed before he began to realize that this is an organized murder at the expense of our lives.

“Why…? Risk to kill all passengers.”

“I know their reason. I want your help”

“That is the last thing I have expected to hear.”

She slipped her hand inside her dress,

“A broken phone ?”

“With the recording of killing a man, who was their primary target.”

“You say that we are in bad luck to travel with this man”

“Exactly…I suppose we are the loose ends.”

“And what help do you expect from me ?”

“To pass this phone to the right people..”

“Listen, woman. I thank you for saving in quite a hurtful way. These are the times that I consider myself lucky. So I can’t….”

He was amazed that she called him by his name though neither of them mentioned their whereabouts.

“Rastogi, the man with a blue hat is your father. I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about ?”

“He hired me. You are being under espionage for last two years..”

“Are you fucking kidding me?

“You are the only legal heir. He..”

“Who are you? ”

“As I said, I was a journalist. I just forgot to add an adjective.”

As the descending sun being the only witness to this conversation, it was  tempted to quote,

The one lying, yet

The other one is listening.



Thank you for reading…

To read the next quarter, click the missing adjective(3/4).

he remembers nothing (2/4)

  September 21st, 1980.

Being a guard at the national prison, I can’t imagine how things go beyond this routine. Time surfs with the early ritual of head counts and a bread to start a day. Days are irrelevant for the life of a prisoner. They just have time to see, sun going from the east side of the sky to the other side.

“What is bothering you, Teddy? ” I asked one of the known guns.

“You know him..? The man in the corner of right wing”

Of course, he is named after numb-nuts, never talks a shit. Though everyone is scared of his figure, say goes as his bare hand made the reason enough to smash a police skull and to hold the bars.

“Yeah…Go on ”

“He started to make noise all through the night. As I shut him up, he asked me what he was doing in a prison. ”

“Hmm.Looks like the drug dealer lost his mind.”

“I think so, but what’s interesting is that he asked for a paper and a pen”

“What is that crazy has to write for..? One of his wives..? ”

“I don’t know. How many days does he have..?”

“At the end of this month.A week, I guess..”

A new disease started to spread through the prison. At first, we thought it was an old man’s cold, but it made five victims to death. Everyone suspected that someone found a way to take revenge on dogs.The strict law is implemented against visitors for some days. I took some of the night shifts at the order of warden as he said that he would seriously consider my raise.

As I made rounds through the cascading screams, I have reached to see numb-nuts. He was awake with long black hair covering his Scarface. As if he was working in his own living room, he made me look like a stranger interrupting his work.

“Out of curiosity, what the hell are you writing about ?”

He rolled a piece of paper and started to impersonate smoking. I lit a cigarette and flicked at his direction. He reached it and continued his old style of cigarette. I suddenly realized that this was his last night and said nothing. He smiled at me as if to convey that I would come to know.

The next morning, he was executed and among his long list of wishes, he addressed to give me the writings. I saw many people sentencing their final moments, but his expressions are quite difficult to understand.

October 21st, 1980.

As the plague continues to spread in the national prison, an unnamed source says that an officer was said to be infected and admitted to the local hospital. His nine-year-old son came to the hospital and he was the last person the officer spoke to.

“Are you going to be okay ? ” boy asked, holding something in his hands.

“Of course. I… What’s it ?”

“I thought that you might get bored ” He held it closer, “I made a cover for your papers. My teacher told me nothing should be left uncovered.”

“ What do you think of the title? ”

The life or  ….

His eyes felt heavier than ever as though there is no need to open it.

His son made it into a book.



Thank you for reading…

To read the next quarter, click he remembers nothing (3/4).

he remembers nothing (1/4)

He remembers nothing. Yesterday seems to vanish, yet fortunate enough to know what he wants to do. All he can think of was having a long hair, which is now short and black. A voice inside his head asked one simple question,

The Life or The Death…?

He looked around the wall with notes and the room with sketches, hanging at every corner. On contrary, he felt home.

He walked into the street with a casual attire. Pacing the wind with a constant speed, never allowing his emotions get the best of the situation.

On the evening, the coffee shop was quite different than a usual day. It was a dull day for a cute lady behind the counter. She was in her mid-thirties with a genuine expression and with an often addiction to a smartphone.

“What can I get you, sir ?” She asked a man wearing a black T-shirt.

Before he could ask for something,

“Are you him, Prudhvi Rastogi? ”

In fact, he never thought of his name, but it sounds familiar.


“I knew it was you, can I get an autograph.? ” She went inside to get something. It was a book titled the life or the death with my photo on the back of it.

I wrote it. How could I possibly forget that..? Is that face attached to my body or Is this a dream or Is it some weird reality show…

“How can I be at your service, Señor ?”

He explored every part of her body with an expertise of a virgin traveler.They are both naked, awake in the middle of the night.

“It’s awesome, author. Do you do this often? ” She hummed the word “Ecstasy”.

“Not that I think of”

“ What are you up to?” covering her with a blanket, she walked to grab a cigarette. “Any new stories.?”

“Actually, I do.”

“Oh. That’s good to know”

“Can you give me that book ?”

“What book ?”

“The one that I’ve written..”

“ Don’t you have a..What do you call them.Editor’s copy ?”

“No, My conscious is not clear of me authoring any book.”

She saw into his eyes to search for humor but found none.

“Whatever, take it when you leave..”

After few moments, she asked after releasing a puff of smoke

“So, It’s true.”

“What ?”

“The book. It’s not a fiction.”

“Why do you say that ?”

“Lead role in the novel have some amnesia problems.”

Perfect. My history is known to a very stranger on street.That’s really annoying.

They kissed and he left with the book.



Thank you for reading…

To read next quarter, click he remembers nothing(2/4).