Tag: thought

the tale of a blue bulb (1/4)

“Shut up, man,” he said to his friend, “I hear you talk nonsense day long…”
They agreed to have some drinks on this weekend. After some time, alcohol took control over the topic and turned it a little personal.
“You are just a drowsy security guard. Get that into that thick skull of yours and behave…” he continued.
His blue-eyed friend didn’t say a word and the night passed away.
The other day came with an announcement of meeting the people in the apartment.
“Why is it keep happening…?” says an old woman.
“It is the third incident in a row. Not everyone will have icy feet to slip on steps, do they.?” says a young man on a casual note.
“It is you to blame for doing nothing…” pointed to the owner of the apartment, to which he said, “ I’ve checked everything….”
Blue eyed man found that an hour had passed along the hassle of words.
At a verge of silence, he said aloud.
“I know the reason.”, numerous pair of eyes stares at him.”There is a spirit in the bulb…”
He went on to say the tale of a bulb which is on the corner of the stairs. Everyone was keen at the words as they need desperate reasons.
“Shut up and go to your work.” Said the owner to him and got the attention of curious eyes “We all know about his fancy talks. We will find a solution.”

Few days passed without much notice but the ripple of mystery went along…

An old woman used the tale of a blue bulb to scare the kids from screaming around her house…

The adults advised their kids ”there is no evil”, but they never saw any proof in their heart…

Some young people placed the cameras and let them record all night in the hope of spirits…

A writer who lives in the building wrote a column about an unfortunate incident involving the blue bulb…
He knows that his work had just begun.

Cont’d…

Thank you for reading…

the writer and a virgin God (4/4)

The accident made the surgery unavoidable. The odds for and against the success are declared as equals. Upon his agreement, the process was said to begin in two hours.
“Someone insists to see you. Do you want to let him in ?” said a young man. The man in the gray suit walked in,
“You look…” he paused, “Same..”
“So, you do remember me.”
“You don’t believe me but it was like yesterday.”
“Yeah, I bet.” The man dragged a chair, ” I am here to tell you a small story and ask you a question. Is that okay…?”
“I may be going to a grave, Mr.You-know-who. and you are here for bedtime stories, huh?”
“Yeah. Funny, Isn’t it ?”
“Go on, I am eager to see where it ends.”
“Once a rat asked the god why it should be the one running away from the cat and pleaded him to make it into a cat. He granted the wish and then again, it saw something big was hunting throughout the day. It asked for an another wish and he granted it. Finally, when it became the king in the forest, it asked why it was old and, the god started to laugh…”
“That was a lame story I’ve ever heard…”
“Perhaps, So was your book about God.”
“The hell does that mean ?”
“You want miracles from God, denying your abilities to do them. It says that prayers to be done more than efforts…”
“Wait, I never mean…”
“Now, the question…” the man came closer, “Was it his foolishness or the rat’s greediness, a reason for the good laugh ?”
He began to feel that the surgery was going wrong. The jerk of shocks on his chest was the last consciousness, as though someone was shaking him,
“Wake up…” came the voice.
He was in his Mercedes with his two passengers,
“Sorry, I am late. Let’s go.” said the man in the gray suit.
He smiled at the idea of a dream scripted by his unconsciousness in such a detail.
A few days later,
Two passengers met at a railway station,
“I thought our play was done when he said ‘same’ to your face.”
“I don’t like make-ups. Besides, he was fond of miracles.”
“And what did his friend prove by doing this…?”
“I just want to give an honest review. That’s all.”
“Is it a worthy risk…? I mean..,”
“It is so hard to tell truth without hurting one’s self-esteem, isn’t it?” he saw the watch ticking the hour hand, “Not from a childhood friend, at least. Anyway, you don’t have to see him again to have any risk.”
She gave a smile and said,
“He asked me out for dinner. Turns out our play is too good to become a lie…”
“Great but this one ain’t in my hands…” They laughed.
The man in the gray suit left on a metro.

-The End-

Thank you for reading…

the writer and a virgin God (2/4)

Three passengers took the comfort of Mercedes.

After a while,

“Forgive me but, could you tell what we’re waiting for..?” she asked the driver.

“Apparently for the other one who left the car…”

“Who did..?”

“No offense but, he looks a bit sane than you…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There is no other than us in this car.”

He bet to see any hint of laughter in her expressions but there were none for a while.

“You never saw anyone. An elder man with a gray suit talking to me..”

“No, I thought you were on a call.”

He looked around to observe the situation,

“The book…” He said in relief, “It’s real and he brought it.”

“You sure he bought it..?”

“Enough of this stupidity… I don’t care if he’s real or not. Let us go…”

But he never left the ‘idea of ghost’. Until now, he felt the comfort of a sole creation of tricks transformed into enticing stories. It was a rather frustrating for him to be an actor than a writer. He says that supernatural forces are too comical to be true. Though it contradicts his consciousness, he tried to convince himself of having hallucinations

Meanwhile, she typed on his iPhone…

“We’re moving…”

 

Thank you for reading…

To read ex-quarter, click the writer and a virgin god (1/4).

the story of Rosie Castrodge (4/4)

“Filthy rich king, I say,” said a pirate, after looting the treasure at a king’s burial. The pirate lord was happy to see that the captain’s map led to a shore of silver and gold.

“I hate to look you as a pris’ner, captain. The trasure is found. Name a reward..?”

“Give back my ship..”

“Why in the right mind hence I do that? It ain’t a worthy talk.”

Both of them know that these negotiations won’t bear anything,

After the pirate left,

“Suffer your senses to listen, Rosie. You’ll regret to miss it.” captain says to the queen.

For the first few days, it was said to be a rum celebration of victory. After a few nights have passed, the thoughts of men became alone. When the desire of more is possible, the stories kept rising.

One man said to be drowned in the sea, searching for his golden ring and the other claimed the man’s share of treasure…

One man almost filled his lungs with rum, was too excited to be alive and the other claimed…

The triumph of being an ‘other’ went on…

It went far to which the crew can no longer control the sail of the ship,

“The night killing us all. Your ship is c’rsed, captain.”

When the two lords are busy at plans,

The queen was left alone with the traitor. She didn’t give a proper look ever since the incident.

“You hear that captain made me do it, right?” said the traitor.

“Yes, Indeed.”

“Then why you hate me..”

“Over him. At least he has an honor for his ship.”

With captain’s help, boat stirred along the wind to find a dry land.

“The ghost crew is real.” she said, looking at their ship.

“Hear me… No matter how many good hearts you see, there are very less of them who can resist the lustrous desires.”

“Aye, captain.” said the queen.

 

-The End-

Thank you for reading…

 

the sid’s narration (2/4)

“I love you,” They said to each other but neither did they mean it.

It is meant to be a sound of comfort to claim a happy life.

She went out of the bed to attend a phone call.

After a few minutes,

“What is it? ” asked her husband, seeing the sudden shift of urgency.

“There seems to be an attack. I have to go…” her reporter’s voice came alive.

“Shall I drop you..?” he asked to make certain of his plans.

“No.. I’ll be fine.”

While she was driving away, he swiped a phone number.

“Hello, angel. Are you…” the unusual calmness of her startled him, “Are you alright ?”.

“Yeah. Just had a rough day.” Her voice made him think of their rough nights.

“I want…”

In an instant, Sid crashed with the woman on the other end.

She cursed the kid and when she picked her phone from the ground, it went blank.

“Nasty kids..” she turned to her left only to find a thin man staring,

“You moron, where have you been hiding..? you even made my life miserable,..” she began to sob,

“Wait, what happened..? ”

“Police questioned me for your ass. Said that you’ve involved in some bomb bullshit. Whatever, my clients…” She stopped at seeing a hint of nervousness in his face.

“You know…?”

“What..No way.” His expressions are not very hideous,

“You lying piece of…Get away from me.”

Neither of them knows that there was a keen ear on their conversation through her blank phone.

The news is too big for him. Even tougher to make a choice.

“Hi..You know, it’s goddamn mess on the streets. Anyway, you want to talk something..” the reporter said.

He began to say the news and anticipated a question even before she asked,

“How exactly do you know her..?”

He said the truth, seeking a lie would be too much to bear the guilt.

“Okay, Let’s help to catch them.” She said.

An impulse sparked at his spinal as ‘Okay’ in her voice was terrifying.

 

Contd…

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

Thank you for reading….

the sid’s narration (1/4)

Holidays were not going along with the sid’s imagination. It only took first three days to prove him wrong. It was an ad commercial that finally got his nerve,

“Use our new germ-tech toothbrush to see and era…”

As he was walking away,

“Do you want to buy one, Sid? ” His mother asked casually.

“That one…” Pointing to the ad, “Why would I want to see my own germs on my smartphone..?”

“Maybe a 9-year-old can brush more..”

“Weird inventions… Why are they so aimless ?”

“Look at who is talking….” His mother smiled, “ Ask it yourself.”

To his surprise, he didn’t get a reply.

He went for a walk and bought some crayons.

An hour passed,

It was same paper as before except for…

It might be a god’s idea to sent a gush of air to elope the paper from the sid’s lap.His second thought was to let it go, but the first reminded him of his hour’s treasure.

He ran. Almost slipped, crashed but never got the paper off-sight.Unknowingly, sid’s narration for his run started a chain reaction.

He smiled when the thought of both having enough time to roam around crossed his mind.

Midst the pollution, he could see the date written on the piece of paper.

“20/03/2020”.

 

Cont’d…

Thank you for reading…

To read the next quarter, Click the sid’s narration (2/4)

The true inheritance

The true inheritance

 

There is a story which often made me wonder about the reality of its existence. It is neither a thriller with an unexpected twist nor a romantic melodrama with a happy adieu .It consists of no rush of words in the mechanized world. It neither made a plea nor an order to obtain the attention of  readers.The story goes as

A very long ago, when  the men learned nothing except the art of hunger-satisfaction , a Shepard sat on a comfortable stone claiming a full view of the herd. The question is .

                                What can he possibly be thinking of ?

He doesn’t worry about the food as he already had it.He had a tranquility of a mortal god. On the time of sun just visited his village as he was passing through the mountains,one of the philosophers comfortably said aloud,”Damn it, Land is flat.So as the entire universe. you can see it,don’t you ?” to the enthusiastic query led by a young boy. He was perhaps thinking about his journey through the woods. Every time he reaches a slope, he questioned whether the earth was practically flat. He thought that water,the wind and every particle  of the sand would probably  be pushed into non-existence from the edge of the world. But he hadn’t seen the change of anything at any conscious time in his life.

What could be the shape of the world we live in ?

A wave of smile that holds mockery prevailed when he could find a shape that can explain his perspective. The shape resembles the stone he used to take rest. He neither did feel proud nor a sheer joy in finding the answer. He knows that the world we live in need lies to survive.

The world follows the heritable rule.A dogmatic approach to society can’t possibly understand or more probably resist the change of times. The Shepard is not an introvert by any sense of literature. He is merely enjoying his time rather than blurting over the ignorance of the world. The true inheritance of man obtained was to be the patience to let your voice stand by an idea at reasonable times to get the precise opportunity to be told.

So, That’s the story with something in it. Isn’t it ?

A little uncertainty..

uncertainty

I have felt the threads embedded on the bottom of fila shoes when it leisurely trudging through the unfinished road which leads to our apartment.People around me who cursed the sun of it’s intense hot at that very afternoon was busy photographing the red bright sun creeping to the west. People say that every moment can be enjoyed.Neither can I deny nor accept such things.When I was seven years old, my dad used to say that failure is not a part of success but rather teaches a way to reach the destiny.He exemplifies by asking ” Which part do you prefer to shift between two rooms.Among one with complete darkness and the other with complete brightness ?”

He says that the easiest path lead by people hurts the most as they were afraid of failure that may tempt them in the future.I always remember him and his words like an engraved crystal which helps to mold all the problems in my life.But life is on uncertainty principle. A slight deviation from the present would vanish the dreams.

The Artists..

The Artists..

People are busy in their usual life who always irritate to the slightest imperfection.Art is the one thing that can visualize their inner thoughts.They can be of different forms such as a  painting or a novel or anything that can inspire them.Generally, reading a novel provokes a person to imagine his own characters.Such as, whenever it states as an”a haunted place”, Some may think of his own house, or his favorite fictitious Baskerville’s palace or any other thing that really scared him.The artist who wrote it rides with you in his story.A painting or a movie was rather a one man perceptive accomplished by using his own experiences in the form of art.

A selfless work of an artist can be considered as a masterpiece.They revere the work rather than amused by the fame acquired due to it.It holds him to the entire life not as a pride but as an inexplicable glue of satisfaction.Such artists deserve the appreciation that our heart could give at its best.