Tag: Life

#2017- the year of lots…

Somethings never change… Do they?

The enthusiasm that bakes your mood, while you have your favorite book in your lap, no matter the crackers that yell to pronounce the end of a year.  There is a lot to say about the year that gave us a wonderful experience, though the volatile memory could only remember a few of everything…

I ain’t gonna need an alarm to wake me at three in the morning…

I was happened to read the above line, in a novel that I didn’t recall the title. And it came as a desire to me, to live for those days. It wasn’t so hard and, I gradually found myself loving it. I began to wake before the sun and make enough things to inspire the day. It is as if you add something invaluable at the start of your day.

It is great to start a year with memories that are meant something for me and, I’d like to thank everyone for making it easy to say such things…

And also, I’ve started to write a script.

So, I say that 2017 is truly a year of lots…

-Thank you…

the dead corpse (2/4)

The threshold of excitement let me walk at the strangest hour beside the people who have said to be dead, a long time ago. I used to read a lot of comics or the adventures book yet the true part of miracles never seem to happen.

This morning while I was having a conversation with my friend, he doubted that I had broken the governor’s bone in the graveyard.

“I didn’t break…”

“Come on, someone broke it last night and I doubt you for…”

My thoughts went on and regretted not being a part of such sensation. The night gave a chance to cross the last mile. I went to the graveyard and began to hear the whispers of three gravediggers,

“What do you think of that Old man…?” Said a short one.

“What Old man…?” Said a bald man with a mustache.

“Jesus…The one we are looking for. What else am I supposed to talk…?” replied the short one. The third one kept his calm and kept digging a grave.

“I don’t know. Maybe the guy who loves to drink a lot.”

“Ey. I agree to that.” The short man stopped and, “No madman would want to bury thousands of rum under his ass…”

“How would that rum taste like?” asked the other.

“The liquid diamond, I would say.” continued the other man. “I hear that a ten-year-old rum worth thousands…”

“Shut you lazy mouths, for god’s sake. We would’ve got that madman ass if not for your whinings.” The third man finally yelled and the others got back to digging.

I waited to listen for more information or at least, to finish their digging.

“The gods are not in our favor, brother. This is not my first work yet the cruelest one to speak of.” the short one kicked on an empty tombstone, “We’ve been working for over a month and look what we’ve got.”

“There are a lot of Thompsons here, man. We could’ve…” said the other one.

“These are the heirs of the True Thompsons. So, let us go for an another.” The third one ordered.

“I am done, guys.” The short one finally lost his patience,” I don’t like to be any part of this deal. It was fun to create a dead governor and the implanted fear that brought us some time. Don’t you see that the longer we go the hopeless it was.”

“Take a look around, Sam.” said the third one, “Many people are dead unsatisfied or not knowing about their purpose. You have a shovel and yet, you argue with God about hope. You are the dead living, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t so dramatic as I’ve expected and as such the short man left the graveyard.

As I was about to leave, cold pair of hands anchored on my shoulders,

“We don’t like visitors, you see…” said the third one.

 

-Cont’d

-Thank you for reading…

 

 

#The Ockhi Ruins

#The Ockhi Ruins

It is planned for as many days as it can take, Is it?

Although it inherits the most beautiful landscapes, nature is always said to be cruel. The ocean waves that does a joy-surfing or the desperate swim to save lives in the event of a storm. The past beauty now began to turn into a nightmare.

The Oukhi began in Lakshadeep and moved towards the coast of Kerala.

How could be the story of seven fishermen who died in the storm?

The one who couldn’t have gone if only he knew about the horrific storm or maybe he didn’t mind the tide. The other who went for another beautiful day in his work and ended up in the sea that fed him, all these years.

As I was watching the news, I almost could feel my map in complete chaos. I paid my respects to those who lost their lives in this unfortunate event.

I want to say that the life is precious (Although I didn’t know how much).  I’ve learned is that things are often tempting to be predictable yet no one knows how his/her today will end.

The choices we make are always in 0’s and in 1’s, like in the electronics. Both leads into a different situation yet we get the luxury to make the call.

 

Thank you for reading…

#the appetite of a writer

A man walking on the street…
A tall, young man with improper gestures kept his one injured hand steady, while the other swaying to pace along the street…
A small boy caught the figure of a heavy man thumping the ground while passing through…
It was the pity that he wanted to see in the faces of the neighborhood, murmuring about how a good man like him could get injured, thought to consult him for any support at the sight of his injured hand…
Now, which statement could make the powerful impact…?
i would say the statement that focuses on the character. It is only possible when the author is in their shoe.
On the present note, not more than a week has passed that an Amazon guy left a book on my doorstep. It was for one of my roommates who had ordered a week before.
i always say that nothing is a coincidence. How could a stranger pass a book at exactly the same time that I was present and the other wasn’t? What are the odds…?
”A house for Mr.Biswas by V.S.Naipal.”
i strongly believe that there will be an appetite for every author. To be on the side of the one character and make a heroic appearance throughout the story, or to be on the side of none except the fate. The latter one resembles the non-fiction as every page is realistic yet ‘unadventurous for some people’.
i am half-way through that book, tempting to turn a page only to kill another chapter.
Writing is awesome only if i could see those classics arrayed on my shelf, waiting to be praised…
It would be great if you can comment me your classics and, i promise to do my best…

Thank you for reading…

{And also, this is my 50th post. i love you all, without which my stories wouldn’t have served any purpose. This is the period of my life which i call it a devil’s puzzle. It keeps me engaged in my passion yet hard enough to keep track my financial career. If you’ve any advice, make sure to keep me updated.}

 

the true heir (4/4)

“What are you thinking ?” she asked the boy.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you are…”
” Which is…?”
“Thinking about your problems…”
“I’m fine.”
“Alright. But remember that you can always tell me.”
“Do you like it ?”
“What do you mean ?”
“Things that are to be done after college… Your passion for being a chef and your obligation of being something. What I am saying is that you could make money but you won’t be able to transfer hope to the next generation.”
“No one can talk about hope as it is infectious. And, on a second thought, what do you hope for…?”
“That everything is possible if you start something…”
“That is one big ‘If’. Besides, What am I going to lose ?”
“Nothing and Obviously, you gain nothing…”
“Look, your opinion doesn’t matter. It’s always good to take a promising career first.”
“And after making money…”
“What the hell happened to you. You don’t always ask these many questions.”
“Don’t mind. Whatever it is, I always like you for not judging me. I just want to wish you for your life.”
“Oh, Finally, huh… Thank you and you know that I always reflect the same of your wishes.”
They parted in good spirits. They’ve decided to meet the others on every new year.
One fine morning after two weeks,
Sanjay found that his son was missing with a slip glued to the mirror.
Dad,
I am not sure to start this journey at this very night. Especially, when there are a lot of whispers around me.
I’ve had some revelations in the recent days. A wise man once quoted, when someone didn’t lose everything when they don’t have anything, then they are in the sight of a true success. I began to feel the truth in every prospect. I wonder why it took me this long to start a journey to see the actual beginning of my problems. Good thing is that I wasn’t afraid of them. I don’t know that I return with success or with a lot of happiness or at least when the society has a different opinion about life.
P.S… I wouldn’t blame anyone if you’ve found few bucks less in your wallet.

Sanjay felt the joy to keep the letter inside his pocket and proudly, walked away.

 

—THE END–

Thank you for reading…

 

 

the true heir (3/4)

“What’s the point, dad ?” he finally asked, rubbing his blue eyes.

“Just a few minutes away.”

He parked near a hotel and took a walk along the deserted road.

“Come along…”

Sanjay stopped near a huge billboard, with an advertisement of a bulb on it.

“This is it…?”

“I am going to tell you a truth, son”

“Okay, this is a bit scary.”

“Look at that bus stop. My name used to be famous for this place, like the one of a kind. There was a lot of praises and wishes from my friends. This is the farthest place that I’ve traveled from my hometown. Everyone says that my broken fingers wasted my career. But the truth always makes me a culprit.” He continued,

“It’s not that I didn’t love playing cricket. But I didn’t have the courage to go for the last mile to achieve it. If I say a reason to convince you, it may not be the truth. I could’ve blamed my mother or the whispering neighbors or my ego to challenge a bowler only to hurt the naked fingers, but it doesn’t matter.”

Sanjay said, looking away from his son. When he turned towards his son, his eyes were attentive as ever could be.

“Son,…” It was new for both of them, “When you love something, make sure to cross the extra mile. Life is always a quest to find your true happiness. It is rather tempting but never compromise on your dreams.”

Later on, they walked away.

 

-Cont’d

-Thank you for reading…

the true heir (2/4)

From the rooftop, the view of city lights and their struggle to glitter let the boy slip into unconsciousness.

Five stories below, where the conversations are still alive…

“You are a terrible father, Sanjay” she was in a bad mood, “How could you allow our only son to drink such terrible things…”

“He made it out of the college. He deserves it.” He tried to convince her.

“Did we ?”

“What ?”

“Did we got that enjoyment when we are of his age…?”

“Are you unhappy that no one offered you a drink…”

“Look, my point is that the discipline is essential for everyone.”

Sanjay walked out of the kitchen and switched the channel to watch sports.

“Stupid cricket.” her mother almost snapped for missing her serial.

Cricket is a point of relief in Sanjay’s organized life. The moments of his youth came alive to him at the sound of the commentary.

 

….His thoughts brought him the memorable defeat of a local match by 5 runs at the age of 13. He was the last batsmen amongst the batting order. He knows that confidence of batsmen is an essential feature, especially when the team is down by 5 wickets and needs 26 runs in next six overs. He remembered how the seniors congratulated him for a tough fight. But one of them came near him and said,

“Keep playing. But never think that some praise will do any good to you.”

….His fifteenth birthday came up and no one in the neighborhood plays a game without him. He became well-known to play strokes with an impeccable timing.

An excerpt from the local newspaper,

….in the five-day test match. The Seventeen-year-old boy padded up and saved the day for the local team. He survived two days of severe bowling attack from the opposition. It wasn’t exactly a batting friendly ground when the pitch helps the ball to swing yet the determination of the boy has finally won. After a long battle, he looked happy and surely, very much exhausted….

….He went to play at the district level and a player like him couldn’t avoid the ‘Mr.classy’ nicknames.

His name went rounds to list in the Dileep trophy.

Yet Sanjay’s life was never a walk in the park. It is in the winter that a ball crushed his fingers and was unable to lift them for three months. It was even painful when he found that he can’t play the game without the doubt to risk his health. Past is beautiful when the pain he has felt mean something.

“why do you even see this stuff…?” His mother interrupted his thoughts just as ever.

He was no stranger to her irritation,

“How’s that sticks and bats of yours would give us any food, beta.”

“We pay for your school and you roam around…”

“You got no responsibility, Sanjay.”

Next morning,

He took a leave of absence from the office and decided to spend the whole day with his son. Sanjay knows that his son wants to be an author yet living in a fantasy of a lie. Upon the first hour of their ride, neither of them spoke a word.

One from a drowsy night and the other for an enlightened future.

 

-Cont’d

-Thank you for reading…

the true heir (1/4)

The 21-year old didn’t hesitate to take an extra glass of alcohol.

“College is an addiction, isn’t it?” he let his sharp voice to spread evenly among his friends.  It was on a twilight day that the three graduates decide to share their happiness.

“Just half a glass and now, he is on…” Said the other, with a chuckle.

“Addiction…Huh?” she finally asked, submitting to the temptation.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“Come on, let’s play a game. Explain it to us and if you can’t convince…” As she struck with words to fall out,

“Convince you. I don’t need to.” He continued, “Let’s make a toast.”

“Before anything, I would like to suggest you something…” his friend continued, “I know you want to be a writer. I know your knowledge to reform make you say crazy. Remember, we live in a crazy world where neither is ambitious nor encouraging. The system was always corrupted and people who would try probably end in a bad shape. I know your rush as hormones at this age but….”

His friend changed his posture and continued,” I once knew a friend very much like the passion of yours. An exact same ambition yet he isn’t wise enough to take my advice. He went around raising his collar to find his goals and now, you won’t believe me the position he’s in. He finally said that I am right. I am not saying that as a victory to me, but it’s just a good foresight. Everyone isn’t aimless, look at our friend…” he pointed his hand to her.

“Don’t bring my reasons…”

“No. It’s not an embarrassment to make a right choice. Besides, who am I to judge you. I am not offending you, my friend. But you must be able to grasp the reality of the situation. And for the toast,

‘To us for making money’.” said his friend.

“Fancy that…” she said, clipping their glasses.

The third one finally raised his glass and said,

“Sure.”

 

-Cont’d

-Thank you for reading.

the boy with one shoe (3/4)

The streets are narrow yet, very familiar to his hometown. Three months have passed in rainy days with unusual visits of the hot sun.
He managed to make money, but he misses the part where he can sit quietly. He sits in his chair viewing the nearby railway station and looks at the joy of traveling people and the mist of black air.
One day, while he was walking from the work, a strange thing occurred in the life of the boy.
Within the instant, his pockets seemed heavy after passing from a crowd.
While his fingers shared the moment of surprise, voices yelled in the background. His instincts made him turn and,
“You….bastard… How’d you like now, huh?” policemen said, wrestling a young man onto the ground.
When he was on his feet, he tried to attack the boy.
“I’m going to kill you. You made a mistake of your life.” the young man continued to swear the boy.
The boy looked confused and turned around to make sure that those words represent someone. But every pair of eyes looked at him with awe, mumbling the reason while few tried to applaud the boy’s courage.
After few hours,
“Why would he the….” Inspector resisted the temper, unable to ask the same question,” I don’t understand.”
Neither did the boy.
On the night of the third week, while the boy couldn’t manage to sleep, someone knocked the door.
It was a pure fear that made his mouth went dry,
“I know you’re in there…. Now, open the door or else, I am damn good to find a way in.” It was the same voice that took an oath to kill him.
The boy didn’t move an inch.
The young man broke the rusted doorknob with ease and came near to the boy,
“Now, where is the package…?”
The boy directed his forefinger to a pile of clothes. The young man searched them and with the package in hand, he looked at the boy.
“Thank god, I thought you lost it.” His voice was now casual, “These worth…”
The look on the boy’s face stopped him,
“Stupid, isn’t it? but how could I ever trace you back in this large city, huh?” he covered the package.
While he was leaving, he turned and said,
“You could be a little more helpful, you know.”

 

-Cont’d

-Thank you for reading…

the writer and a virgin god (3/4)

He felt the jerks more often, and an instant realization frightened him as he was supposed to be the driver an hour ago…
His eyes are heavy and upon some consistent attempts,
It captured the sight of being in an ambulance, with his nerve pinned to the bottle of chemicals.
“Take it easy, sir.” Said a young man in a white jacket, “Your wife is here.” He followed and saw a lady to whom he offered a ride not more than an hour ago…
“Darling, Don’t worry…”
He tried to move but discovers it as a dumb notion to control his body. They are weak and drugged.
After a few minutes later, Aspirin took his vain to an another reality. He woke up and saw an elderly woman standing in front of him,
“Hello, sir…” She introduced herself, ” Remember me…?”,
“Of course, Doc… You look old,” He said in relief, “I had a terrible dream and I thought to visit you.I..uhh…”
“Yeah, You did…” He saw a concern in her face,
“Do you trust me…?”
“Is it one of your mind games,..?”
“Supposedly,”
“I do…”
“What if I say, you’ve forgotten ten years of your life ” She paused, “and you’ve got a wife and two children…”
“Doc, How could….” He remembered that she never wastes time on jokes.”Which year is it ?” He asks after a brief moment.
“2030”

-Cont’d

Thank you for reading…