Category: Life

  • Father’s Endless Love

    Father’s Endless Love

    Incident happened in a girl’s life, which might be small at glance but gave her very strong impression of her father and his endless love. The story portrays the father’s reaction to his daughter’s problem without giving the slightest thought on his own health. It also shows the girl’s courage to fight difficult time all alone.

     

    It was 6 am in the morning. I was traveling from Mumbai to my hometown in a Salo seater luxury. I boarded it at 10.30 pm and was supposed to reach by 7 am in morning. I was going to see my father who has undergone the eye cataract surgery.

    It was the last week of March in 2013, it was Holi season and the PLs for BE final semester exam. Submission of final year was after the holiday of 3 days. So I carried my Laptop along, which I bought a year back, to update my project report and Software project.

    Suddenly Luxury halted at 6 am where cleaner and the driver asked us to shift to another bus for further journey. Usually, they do so when they carry a small number of passengers. It was Dhule Stop. My town was 35 km away from here. I was one more hour away from my home sweet home. I was half asleep. I woke up and tried getting my college bag, my luggage from the rack above my seat.

    I was shocked noticing my college bag was not in place. I went into a frenzy, adrenaline kicked in and madly dashed searching whole luxury racks, each and every seat side and scanning every person around.

     

    I was blank with my mind-set, as time passed. I had bought that laptop with hard earned money of my father. My papa and my project guide face started roaming in my mind. The laptop had all my final year project detail. If is not got on time I will be wasting my precious academic year.

    I understood, the bag is stolen because nothing else moved around. By this time remaining passengers were shifted to another luxury.

    The cleaner asked me,” madam, why you still here? That luxury is about to leave. This bus won’t take you to your destination.”

    I told him,” Bhaiya, My college bag is missing from the rack. I want my bag right now. Till then, I won’t leave this bus.”

    I had the habit to keep my eye on my stuff while traveling. I had been travelling in such luxury buses very often but never faced such problem. Cleaner started searching for the same. We went to bus standing beside, to check if anybody has carried it by mistake.

    But couldn’t find it. It was 6.30 am. I started panicking.

    The cleaner said,” Madam, you don’t worry we will search your bag and deliver to your address. You seat in another bus to move to your destination.”

    But I was reluctant.

    I was scared yet reluctant to move away without my bag. It was just a bag for others but it had my much worth laptop. I was not worried about my papa’s scolding but I was more worried about how he will feel when I will tell him about this. What I will do, of my submission.

    My phone rang. It was the papa, calling to ask how long I will take to reach now. So he can come to receive on luxury stop.

    I was numb and speechless. Thinking of how to tell him I lost my Laptop.

    He understood my silence and asked,” Is everything OK?”

    I told him with a low voice,” Papa, my college bag is stolen from this bus.”

    He asked,” What were you carrying in the bag?”

    I was speechless. Again he understood.

    He asked,” Laptop?”

    I acknowledged him quietly, saying,”Yes”

    He disconnected the phone without saying a word.

    I kept on searching. I found a similar college bag lying on the rack, above the back seat. Meanwhile, another bus left with all passengers. I was all alone with cleaner and the driver of the bus.

    I asked the cleaner,” Bhaiya, ye bag kiska hai?”

    He said,” madam, this bag belongs to two burkhawali ladies. They were mother-daughter by relation.”

    I asked,” So you must be having contact detail of these ladies. Give me her contact number which you people usually note down while booking tickets.”

    The cleaner said,” No madam, we don’t have it as they got into the bus in Bhiwandi which is outer stop and no prior bookings were made.”

    Suddenly the grief was turned into anger.

    I shouted to cleaner and driver, “ How could you be so irresponsible. How you people have not maintained any passenger records. Is this the way you manage your passenger.. and blaah blaah blaah.”

    I was blank but after getting this similar bag, I got a hope to search my bag. I started exploring the stuff within.

    The driver said,” madam its 6.45 am in the morning right now. No office will be open.”

    He requested me,” you please leave this bus I want to park it alienated place.”

    As we were on the highway, luxuries are not allowed to get into the city after 7 am was the rule otherwise they will be penalized.

    I threaten them to call police if at all they forced me to leave.

    That similar bag had cosmetics, some pharmacy books and one piece of paper which was Hall ticket.

     

    I asked them,” where do they get down?”

    The driver said,”They got down at 5 am at Malegaon.”

    After the halt over Dhaba at 3 am and halt right now at 6 am, this was the only halt taken in-between.

    So I understood that this means my bag is exchanged by mistake and it is taken by some lady whose name as per the hall ticket was Fatima sohib.

    I kept on exploring her bag. Everything was general with no clue.

    It was 7 am, my mom not knowing, what had happened called me up and asked,” Where are you? What you told your papa that he just took his bike and left with serious mood.”

    I was confused. Papa didn’t say anything about this.

    I said,”Mom I am fine. My Bag is stolen. I am searching it. I am in luxury Bus trying to get some clue”

    mom said,” OMG, it’s not your business to investigate all alone. You don’t stay there alone, you come home then we will make a police complain.”

    I said,” Mom, you don’t worry. Your daughter is safe and is brave enough to get my stuff back.”

    I ended the call.

    While exploring through her stuff, I got one contact number on the back page of one of the books. The phone number, we usually get when we buy our textbook. The number was of some book stall. Printed using stamp. I thought to call the number and inquire for Fatima sohib as there was no other clue in hand. I gave it a try.

    A guy picked-up the call.

    I asked him for Fatima.

    He said,”No, I don’t know any Fatima and don’t call again it is early morning. ”

    I insisted him to help if at all he knows anything about this girl as she has forgotten her bag in the luxury and bag contain her important belongings.

    He was sounding as if he just got up with the interruption of my call. He asked what all stuff? I said her books, money-wallet and main thing her hall ticket.

    During those days hall tickets were given in college unlike today’s scenario of download and print.

    He started saying little about Fatima that she usually purchase the books from him and his book stall is in Mumbai.

     

    I told him that the hall ticket has Malegaon’s college name.  he said yes because she stays there with her mamajan.

    I was amazed how come a bookseller can have this much info about a girl who purchases her books from him.

    This was not enough actually.

    I asked him if he can get me her number. He said he will search for it and provide. He asked me why I wanted to help her.

    So this was one tricky question to answer. If at all I will say she took my laptop unknowingly then there is a chance to cruel his mind and sell my laptop.

    I told,” I had my My final year project in that bag which is very sensitive and is to be handled with care. ”

    He gave me her contact number. My hope was little boosted.

    I called that number more than 20 times but got no response.

    It was 8 am. I was still in the luxury bus all alone with two strangers who wanted to park luxury at some other place. But I was afraid to move from the main road and for that sake, I threaten them to call to police.

    I called that Mumbai guy again. He took the time to receive phone and negative thoughts started getting in my mind. I tried again. He received.

    I told him, “No one is answering the call on the number you gave. Can you provide me her detail, please?”

    He said,” I won’t be able to get up to her.”

    I asked, “Why?”

    He said,” today is a holiday. She generally stays in the hostel but hostel is close today. Other place she could go is her mamajan’s place. He stays in very narrow area near kalu halwai and …..blaah blaah blaah.”

    I noted each and every detail he mentioned and kept on trying to call her.

    It was around 8.30 am now. Papa called me and asked with concern where I was waiting. I guided him with the address, where I was exactly.

    He said,” I will be there in 15 min.”

    I was so much about to cry as was all alone with two strangers.

    I kept encouraging myself saying,” Everything gonna be alright”.

    I again called up Mumbai guy and asked him to help me with proper address. I got a bike now to move to the narrow roads.

    Papa came and I told him every single detail. He listened to everything calmly. He asked me to sit on bike and he drew to malgaon.

    It was around 87 km from my hometown.

    We reached Malegaon by 11.15am. The place mentioned by Mumbai guy was seriously very strange and narrow. We any how managed to reach Fatima’s mamajan’s place.

    Mamajan was the angry old man who asked very angrily,” who you want to meet.”

    By that time my anger was much more than his. I could see the entrance of his house from outside and saw my bag, kept as it is .I ran to my bag without his permission and grab it and held it tight.  Tears rolled out of my eyes.

    He was shouting at me as he was not getting what I was struggling through. My papa made him understand what had happened to me.

    Mamajan called out for Fatima and you won’t believe almost 25 girls came out of his place. I was impatiently searching for this irresponsible girl Fatima. Mamajan took me n papa inside and asked Fatima to apologize. Papa was still calm and very supportive.

    She, unaware of whole scenario, asked, “What happened?”

    I lost my temper and explained her, what all I went through all because of her carelessness.

    I told her, “My dad had his eye cataract surgery. I had my final submission tension. Anyhow, I managed to come and rest with my family for 2 days holiday. You just took my precious bag in your half-sleep. What kind of girl you are. My bag was around 6 kg in weight. How couldn’t you get any idea that it wasn’t yours? Papa and I are struggling since 6 am till 12.30pm without having a single drop of water. This could have been easier for me if at all you would have received your phone.”

    My temper was too high to listen to her. I told her to throw up her phone and her all educational degree in bin. I scolded her that, I called you more than 100 times and no one out of so many members could receive it once.

    She said sorry for all problems she made me face.

    She asked me to have breakfast and some water. I was feeling damn weak to handle my temper and was more worried by thinking of my papa’s consultation from surgeon to rest. He kept his hand on my head and asked me to calm down and be happy that finally, we got our belongings safe. I put one small smile for my papa’s saying and thanked him for being there as always. I just left her house and moved out saying kindly thank that bookseller guy who helped me to reach up to you.

    All the members of her house started asking her about that guy. No one knew about him. At last, I got to know that they were in secret relation which I had exposed to all at one stroke.

    While I was leaving, I could only hear scolding at her for this secret relation. Papa and I left Malegaon and travelled for 2.30 hour and finally reached home. Papa didn’t scold me for what happened instead, he appreciated the way I handled the case all my own. Thinking in such difficult situation, staying active all alone with strangers, yet investigating and linking all clues was hats-off act.

    I was strong in all cases only because of my papa. All because of his endless love. I thanked him for always being there. My papa is my real hero and my first love of my life. On this day, my belief was made stronger that whenever and wherever I’ll be stuck; my papa will always be there for me. Without thinking of his own health and any other odd-conditions, he was with me.

     

  • The Wait

    The Wait

    A story how a boy and a mother wait in different ages.

     

    As the clock struck 3:00 PM, the school bell rang. What followed was chaos, screams of joy filled the corridors of the school as the children realised that it was time for them to head home. Little Eric led from the front, he was the first to let out a voice in class I-A and the first to run out of it. He ran with all his might, despite sweating his shirt wet during the day he was bursting with energy. He was the first to get out every day, today was no wonder, he was the first again. As he made his way through the corridors, he noticed a few seniors making their way out.

    They were ahead of him, but he was leading from his class and that’s all he cared about. He made his way to the open gate in front of which there was large set of vibrant colours lined up. Parents. This was no different sight to Eric, he was accustomed to this sight, but what he was not accustomed to was this delay in spotting his favourite face, his mother’s face.

    Every day after sprinting out of class, Eric would easily spot his mother’s smile and her sweet voice calling out his name, but this had deserted him today, there was no smile and no voice.

    He stood there in fright, his eyes searching for his mother and suddenly a group of children ran past him, before he could realise, the entire school was making its way out. He was pushed, bags hit him, he stood firm using all the strength his little muscles could provide him, his wandered for his mother’s face, in vain. She wasn’t there.

    Isabella woke up that morning knowing that this was going to be a hectic day. It’s been a week since her husband returned to his job in the middle east, she missed him desperately, she wished he was there beside her. A quick glance at the clock and she knew, she had to start now. So her day started, it was the usual routine, shower, get breakfast and lunch ready for herself and Eric, drop Eric at his school and get to her cubicle in the bank. It was a routine she was accustomed to, it would only change when her husband would return home for his break, then it was his duty to drop and pick up Eric from school, there wasn’t a day where she wished her husband was beside her.

    But Isabella had to get on without him, and get on she did. After dropping Eric, Isabella arrived at her office on time. It was a big day at the bank for everyone, it was auditing day, and everybody had their hands full. Isabella did too, she knew she had her hands full that day, she knew it would be difficult to leave at 2:30 PM, like she day on any other day. Nevertheless, Isabella was hopeful she could turn this hectic day into just another day. So, the chaos began, there were people on the move all the time, phones ringing left, right and centre, the sound of printers making their all so familiar noise could be heard in every direction. Isabella wasn’t spared, she was right in the middle of the storm. Even though she tried her best to keep an eye on the clock, it had to be ignored, what was on her desk screamed for all her attention.

    Forgetting time Isabella put her all in getting her job done, she juggled between various desks helping her colleagues out, attended her boss’s calls for her, it was chaos. As the sun moved to right above people’s heads, the chaos seemed to have calmed down a bit, the noisy, hustled morning had vanished, Isabella knew she could leave on time. But at that very instant, she was called in by her boss.

    She had to help him and the auditors clear a pile of files. She hated it, but hopeful that they could finish the job by the time Eric school was over.

    Once again Isabella got working, but this time the atmosphere was different, everybody in the room was irritated with the events of the day.

    A sense of frustration loomed in the air, no matter how many files they cleared, the pile never seemed to have reduced. Isabella’s phone rang, it was her mother, she answered the call with minimum words and was quickly off the phone. Her boss gave her a cold look, agitated he asked Isabella to put her phone on silent mode.

    Isabella was familiar with this look, she knew she had to comply, she knew there was no escape without getting her job done. Comply she did. The work went on, voices were raised, brains were pushed to limits, and finally all the files were cleared. Isabella was free to go home. She picked her phone, her heart ached when she realised what the time was, it was 4:00 PM, she four missed calls, the latest one five minutes earlier. She called back, her gut was true, it was from Eric’s school.

    Eric stood bewildered at the gate, his mother was always on time, but not today. He watched in angst as his friends left for home with their mothers, he was scared. He sat on the bench near the play area, wondering where his mother was and badly hoping she would be here soon. His heart filled with fear, his eyes heavy, moist. The crowd of students that passed through the gates slowly thinned down, now it was only a few students and more of teachers who were making their way out. Eric sat there watching them go, nervous, scared, his eyes heavy, moist, wondering why did Mom leave me here like this. Right then he heard somebody call out for him, a glance to his left and he saw his class teacher with her eyes firmly fixed on him. Eric ran to her. She was saddened to see her student this scared, crying. She held him tight, wiped his tears away, calmed the kid down before asking what she had to. She asked him questions anybody would ask, “why haven’t you gone home? Who comes to pick you up?” Eric answered them all, the next thing she asked was his Mother’s number, he cheekily pointed his ID card at her, he didn’t know the number by heart.

    She dialled the number, the call connected, but after several rings the call was cut. She tried again, but once again nobody picked up. The teacher was persistent, she tried again, but in vain. The teacher contemplated her next move, as she did, her phone rang, it was Eric’s mother. Eric watched as the teacher spoke to his Mom, there was relief inside him. The teacher ended her call and informed Eric that his mother would be coming to pick him up soon. Eric was relieved to hear the news, but the boy was still scared. The teacher passed on the duty of watching the child to the gate keeper. This was a heftily built man, with big thick moustaches, certainly not one of Eric’s favourite people. But what else could Eric do, his mother had not come, so he had to stay under the constant gaze of this man.

    Every day at 5:00 PM the gate keeper would get his daily allowance from the school canteen, a cup of tea and a samosa. Today he was more tired than usual, he was impatient, he kept looking at his watch from time to time. This time as he did so the time was 4:35 PM, as he sat impatiently a woman approached him. The gate keeper knew this could be the boy’s mother. The woman approached him fast, she was half running, half walking, her body language suggested his guess was correct, it was indeed the boy’s mother. The gate keeper was well accustomed to this scenario, during his spell of ten years as the gate keeper he had scene numerous parents in such a situation, and he knew what to expect of them. The first thing they always did was ask about their ward, run to the ward, console and apologise to the kid, and while leaving they would thank him and explain why they were late. He got ready for another such experience.

    Isabella got there as fast she could, she always despised public transport, yet that day she was thankful it got here to school. She half ran, half walked to the school, upon seeing the gate keeper, words burst out of her, words she had been desperate to let out, ‘Where’s my son Eric? How is he?’  The gate keeper calmly told her where her son was and not to worry. Isabella would only trust his words after seeing her son. She entered the school premises, she knew where the play area was and she directed herself there. She spotted him, a small boy with his shoulders slumped, a sense of peace and relief overcame Isabella on seeing her child. She ran to him and hugged him. The boy was caught by surprise, but he was familiar with this hug, this touch, this scent, he held on to her tighter.

    The boy sobbed as he held on to his mother with all this might. Isabella was relieved that she was with her son, that feeling lasted very short as the boys sobs made her realise what she had put the boy through. A sense of guilt overcame her, she untucked herself from the hug, making sure she did not shed a tear she stooped down to meet Eric’s eyes. She was saddened on seeing them, she quickly wiped away his tears, and kissed him, only then did the boy calm down.  Isabella apologised to him for leaving him there for so long, she promised him that she will never leave him like that again. The boy cried out everything he had in him, as if this wasn’t heart aching when the boy said, “Mumma I thought you will not come at all”, it broke her heart. She once again hugged him, assured him such a thing will not happen again, she promised him. The boy calmed down. A promise of getting two ice creams on the way home made him smile, that’s all she wanted. They made their way out, just like the gate keeper had predicted he got an apology and an explanation.

    That night, after putting Eric to sleep, Isabella spoke to her husband, amidst her heavy sobs she somehow told him the events of the day. The phone call helped, but one look at Eric and his crying, scared face he had in the evening flashed before her eyes. She sat beside him on the cot, tears filled her eyes as ran her hand through his silky hair trying to imagine what the boy must have gone through. She sobbed, she apologised, she promised never to leave him again, it was a promise she never broke.

    Isabella opened her eyes, the tears she had been holding back now burst out of her. She was not sitting beside her little Eric, her hands were not running through his hair, she was in a different place, different age. Isabella reached out from here arm chair, her table was nearby, she found a picture of little Eric, holding right in front of her eyes she couldn’t contain her smile, yet tears made their way down her cheeks. The memories of that day were still fresh to her. Even after so many ages, she still felt the emotions of that day and it always brought her to tears. Today everything was different, she was no longer the young mother who worked in a bank, she was an old lady without her husband, living in a place she couldn’t call home, surrounded by people like her, yet alone. Alone. Little Eric was no longer little, he is a top shot in big name corporate, Isabella, proud of where her son had reached, yet pained by the promise he broke.

    It had been a year since this place became Isabella’s new home, a year and six months since her husband passed away.

    Eric had promised he would visit her every month, he promised her. It was nine months since she last saw his face, ten days since she heard his voice. Every day Isabella would smile, talk with her compatriots, do her daily chores with them, every day she felt empty and alone inside. She wondered whether all of them felt the same too. Not all of them she said to herself, a few lucky ones there had their children visit them monthly, Isabella was happy for them. That sight of a happy mother with her child moved her every time, she was a mother, she knew the feeling, yet deep inside she wished it was Eric who had come.

    Her body was not as energetic as it once was, every time she lay down to rest, her mind was filled with thoughts f Eric, his memories, her heart caved for his presence. Amidst the tears and smiles his memories brought, Isabella had questions, questions that arose ever since the day Eric told her that this place would be her new home. They were still unanswered. She wondered why Eric would do this to her, did she do something wrong, did she not love him with her all, did she hurt him, did she burden him with anything, and most painful of all, she wondered whether this was the punishment for leaving Eric alone on that day thirty-six long years ago, she wondered painfully whether she had broken the promise she made to him. There were no answers, only Eric could answer them, he wasn’t there. Isabella was alone.

    There was not a day where she forgot the events of that fateful day, his scared, tears filled eyes of that day, today he wasn’t there to see the pain in her eyes, to wipe the tears his memories brought. Isabella loved her son more than anything in this world, she lived for him and today her Eric was not with her. All she had was the smiles, tears his memories brought, her heart craving for him, his presence, his smile, the pain of that day, the pain of those unanswered questions.

    That fateful evening when she left him alone, she slept with a heavy heart, now, every night she slept with a heavy night, the pain she felt now was her new companion, the companion she thought she would have had deserted her. She was left alone, even so she could not stop loving him.

    Every night Isabella prayed, prayed for Eric, for him to be fine, happy, for his loved ones to be fine, happy. As for herself, she knew her days would end soon, she knew tomorrow she may not wake up, and all she wanted was to see Eric, spend a day in his company, ask him the questions she had, and sleep knowing he is right beside her. She could only wish, she could only hope that Eric would come before death would.

    Not knowing who would come first, death or the most precious thing in her life, her Eric, Isabella waited every day. She waited.

  • He was Appreciated

    He was Appreciated

    Appreciation can make any person to change things in the world or change things in himself. Everybody in this world works for appreciation. Nobody likes to get hate or critisism for good work. But why don’t we appreciate the hardwork and honest work of poor people ? We all love fame and attention so we appreciate the one’s who are famous. of course famous people deserve the appreciation as they have earned this fame through their hardwork as well. But when it comes for people working in small sectors or even sweepers or roadside vendors nobody appreciates them.

    On 31st December 2016 , it was somewhat  11 PM and I was hanging out with my friends to celebrate new year. You can see joy and happiness all around you. People are out with families,friends etc enjoying their special moments this night. Music is all over the city and how can there not be dance of crazy people when music is being played everywhere. So to cover everything in one sentence people were happy and the happiness is always at its peak.

    So while riding across the city I saw a bunch of people selling balloons . This wasn’t just a small scenario but a big one indeed.

    The whole street was seen flooded with balloons of every colour and the people selling them were never seen before at this place.

    So when everyone started buying the balloons I and my friends went up to a guy to buy some too. He was having an average body and was 24 years old maybe. So I asked him what’s the price of one baloon. He replied 20 Rupees which was not bad but I thought it might be 10 rupees. So I asked if there was any balloon of 10 rupees to which he sadly replied no . Suddenly one thing popped up my mind that if everybody is enjoying then why am I demanding  10 rupees less for one balloon?

    I shouldn’t put him in a loss so I took some 4-5 balloons and gave him 100 rupees. Before leaving from that spot I wished him a very happy new year. He wished me the same but there was one different gesture he did which made me realise what an impact I just created. After shaking hands he simply touched his heart with his right hand which nobody including my friends and family did when I wished them. I realised he took my wishes in a very thankful way and I was the first person to wish him and maybe he did’nt have anyone to enjoy this moment with.

    The very next day on 1st January when the party was over I was hungry and so I went to have some outside breakfast. So on my way I saw a very famous “vada pav stall” . I went inside and ordered two vada pav while talking on the phone about my party last night . Before my breakfast came I wished the workers a very happy new year and just after that the sweet gesture of the balloon seller was repeated by the workers. They said thank you and shook my hands and placed their right hand on their chest i.e over their heart .

    My simple new year wish might have made their day . I knew nobody would have wished them .

    After two more days when I again went to eat breakfast over there the same workers were there . One of them who took my order said where is the party tonight? I asked him which party ? He said few days before you came here and were talking on the phone about your new year party. I was shocked that he remembered such a small thing of a stranger . I asked him how do you remember my conversation on phone with someone ?

    He said “you were the only one who wished us new year and appreciated our work. Hundreds of people come here everyday but nobody says thank you after their lunch and breakfast but only you thanked us and wished us good luck ahead. ”

    This was the moment of my life. I understood how a small gesture can change someone’s day and thoughts. Everyone in this world can earn money but when in return someone gets appreciation he gets a positive backup from his inner soul to fight harder for survival. No matter how poor or rich a person is if appreciation is done upon him he works wonders or his inner soul becomes alive again. This worker will definitely remember me for his entire life and will work harder because now he knows his work has been appreciated and same goes with the balloon seller. Gestures do create an impact so make this impact on everyone’s life with small appreciation for genuine work,help or mankind.

  • FRIENDSHIP BARS RELIGION

    FRIENDSHIP BARS RELIGION

    The story revolves around before Partition India when it was called a “Golden Bird”. All communities lived with harmony, without any conflicts. There was no discrimination on the basis of religion, caste or creed.

     

    There was a village, Solapur of around 50,000 population and spread over an area of 50-80 acres at the border of Rajasthan. This village truly reflected the concept of a Harmonious India.

    The story is about the friendship of two boys, Aslam and Rahul. Aslam belonged to a lower class Muslim family. His father was a semi-skilled labour. He worked as a labour at farms during crop season and otherwise, as a potter. Whatever he earned daily went into buying basic necessities for the family. While Rahul belonged to an upper class Hindu family. His father was a priest at the only temple of the village. That’s why, his family was a reputed family and everyone respected them. Whatever marriage, puja or function was organised.. he was invited there to perform required rituals.

    Rahul and Aslam were fast friends.. lived as if were brothers and not just friends. Studied in the same government school and also in the same class. Both were very good at studies. Both were regular at each other’s home. Rahul would sometime even call Aslam’s mother, Ammi. Such was the cordial relationship between their families. The school did not provide senior secondary higher education, so they couldn’t study there after their high school. Both had grown up together, but now had to part ways as Rahul’s father could afford higher secondary education but not Aslam’s father due to poor financial conditions. Rahul went away but Aslam was left behind. This disturbed him and his family a lot.

    Rahul’s father couldn’t see it as he knew that he had great potential to do something in life and would surely become something in life.

    He knew that Aslam was determined to study. So he promised Aslam to provide higher education and thus, asked his father to send him out of the village. At first, he seemed hesitant but knowing his son’s potential, he agreed.

    Rahul and Aslam went on to succeed well in their lives with Rahul owning a diamond jewellery business and Aslam becoming a reputed, A grade officer in tax department.

    Once, Rahul got in a scam of tax evasion and came under scrutiny of the tax department. He was presented before Aslam. At first, none of them knew about the identity of each other. But as soon as they faced each other, both were elated and just hugged each other. Then Rahul narrated the whole incident that how he had been dragged into a fake scandal so that his reputation in the market is destroyed. Aslam knew about the honesty of his childhood friend and believed him a lot.

    A committee was set-up to look into the matter and at the last, I was found that Rahul’s accountant was responsible for the whole incident and that he had been doing this for a long time. He fired him at that moment and thanked Aslam for his support and trust.

    Aslam said,” Don’t be grateful to me. Your father helped me build my future. It is my responsibility to protect his son and protect his image if he is honest. I have just let off the debt I had of your father on me and my family. Thanks a lot to you actually. “

  • MOBILES – A TROUBLE

    MOBILES – A TROUBLE

    This story is about 21st century generation’s obsession with smartphones and how they can harm them. Moreover, importance of teachers in a student’s life.

     

    There was a boy named Ishan, 13 years. Small height but incidents bigger than height. Full of notoriety but respectful. The only child of his parents.He was a notorious child and studied in 7th standard. He had a whole lot of friends who were of the same age, studied in the same class and same school.

    He was very naughty,the whole school was fed up of him. Regular complaints and letters from school and teachers at home would anger his father a lot. But the one person who he obeyed the most was his grandfather. He obeyed him the most and could do anything for him.

    Once he suddenly demanded of a mobile or cell phone from his father who owned an electronics shop. He dismissed his this demand citing it to be inappropriate of his age. When he tries to convince his grandfather..Mr. Verma,his father intervened by saying that he always supported Ishan a d that waa giving a blow to his naughtiness. His grandfather told both of them to solve the matter on their own and went away. This gave a sigh of relief to Mr. Verma who could not even scold Ishan in front of his father.

    Now, Ishan was helpless. He did not do what to do. He went to his mother and said,”Mumma, I want a mobile phone. Its is very necessary in today’s time. You can call me if you want something ftom the market. Papa can call me if he wants to get something from home. All my friends are having it. I too want it. “

    His mom,Mrs. Verma said,”  Ishu,you know that your father will never succumb to yours this demand. Why are you again and again trying it then. Its not of any use.”

    But Ishan was determined to get his demand fulfilled.

    One night, Mr. Verma waa talking to his friend over phone and his ring fell off the balcony. When he came inside,he saw that there was no ring. He got worried as it was his lucky ring and was with him for the last 30 yrs and waa gifted to him by his mother who was no more.

    Mrs. Verma said,” Try to recall when had you seen it last and where. Try it.”

    He recalled and got to know that last he was at the balcony when he had worn it. All of them went downstairs to look for it. He promised to offer a gift to whosoever would find if. Everyone started looking for it. There was chaos everywhere as everyone wanted a gift. Mrs. Verma had already thought of a diamond necklace for herself.

    Finally, Ishan found it stuck in between the leaves of a plant. Mr. Verma was very elated to see it again. He just hugged him, kissed him and asked him to demand whatever he want.

    Now,as he had promised to offer a gift.

    Ishan said,” Now,as papa you had promised to offer a gift..I want a mobile phone.”

    Mr. Verma said,” No, demand something else.”

    Mr. Verma’s father said that it was their family tradition to fulfill any given promise at any cost. Mr. Verma was in a dilemma,but as it was their family tradition,he couldn’t break it.

    Relentlessly and helplessly,he had to succumb to Ishan’s demand and decided to get him a smartphone the next day. Ishan was so happy with only the thought of getting a smartphone that he could not wait for it and was unable to sleep. At night,Ishan went to his father and said,” Papa,I think that we should just ho now and open the shop and get the phone.”

    Mr. Verma said,”  Shut up!!Just look at the clock,its 11:10. Just go to your room,sleep and let others sleep too.”

    Hearing this,he got sad and went away.

    The very next day,he got up early. Had his breakfast done and also made his father hurry up, letting him not even having his breakfast properly.

    As they reached the shop,their manager,Mr. Bhalla welcomed Ishan and asked him his motive behind coming and also if he wanted to eat or drink something.

    Ishan said,” Uncle,I have come here to buy a smartphone for myself and I don’t want anything. But can you please just get chocolate shake for me.”

    Mr. Bhalla agreed and ordered one for him.

    He bought a new smartphone for himself and went away. Full day,he would be texting,calling and playing games on his phone. He had no other thing to do..no eating,no bathing.

    He would carry his phone daily to school too and exchange funny jokes and memes with friends. Once,there was a notice circulated in the whole school that if any child was caught with his phone on..then he/she would be debarred from the school. Everyone got tenst.

    One day,during recess,Ishan and some of his friends were caught with their cell phones on and that too sharing jokes on teachers. His teacher got very angry on reading one such joke and handed over their phones to Principal Ma’am. She asked them to call their parents so that they could hand over the termination letter directly to them. Ishan cried,begged for forgiveness but all in vain. He did not know what to do. But had to get his phone back plus report about the matter to his parents. With a deep regret and grief,he narrated the whole incident to everyone. They felt very shameful of not only Ishan but also of  themselves. Ishan’s grandfather was hurt a lot that how could his upbringing and thoughts be so disrespectful and shameful.

    His grandfather said,” Teachers are God. One should never disrespect them or make fun of them. If they’ll not be there,lakhs and crores of children like you will never be able to stand on their feet.”

    This thing touched Ishan a lot and he promisd not to repeat this mistake again in future.

    Next day, Ishan promised the same in front of Principal Ma’am and thus was not debarred.

    Moral of the story is use everything in limit and respect your teachers. They are the basic and most important building blocks of one’s life.

  • Silence, Shiver and Whatsapp….

    Silence, Shiver and Whatsapp….

    It is a plot twist that happens with Seema and Rajesh. It just simply involves our daily oxygen named ‘Whatsapp’ and slight mystery. Emotions and change of situation is the major plot of the story.

     

    Passing over the huge work load of the day and journey of the local train at last Seema reached home. Her chair was like calling her out loud ‘Sit down! Please!’ She sat down and had a sip of water. Last two months had been very tough for her. Her family came to know about her relationship with Rajesh. The provincial circles of society and her relentless fight gave her some good results. She managed to convince her family for the wedding with a guy who is not Punjabi. Drinking cold water from the glass she picked up her phone. As general population she picked up phone, wifi connection and whatsapp. It’s the basic algorithm stuck to the human brains.

    Rajesh was online. He sent three texts before and was waiting for the reply. She saw them and typed, “Very sorry darling. It was a real busy day. I had to give three presentations today. Swallyy!” and a kissy added. Rajesh replied, “No problem baba. I can understand. Just feeling little uneasy that is why….”. Seema felt real negative and her finger started moving on the key pad fanatically. She told him to take medicines and have lots of water. She was into him totally. She sent him a cute selfie to lighten his mood.

    She asked him, “Achha.. send me your happy wala selfie please. I want to see. Please…please…please!” Two minutes of silence and she got a picture of a chair. She said, ” Stop kidding Raj and send it.” Rajesh said, “I sent only…it didn’t come?” and immediate ‘NO’ came on his screen five times. He tried again but the same thing happened. Then Rajesh said, ” Arre! Leave it na! It must be a camera problem! Sorry yar. Before our wedding I will buy a new i-Phone 7. Okay?!Then we can take as many sefies as we want…”

    Seema was happy and chatting passionately. She lost the track of time and even her house was empty but she did not realise.

    She was fully drenched into emotions and elations. Her dream came true at last…She wanted to marry Raj and only Raj. But he said if her father accepts and gives blessings then only they will proceed. Phone rang suddenly and she ran towards it. She said, ” Hello!….hello! Who is this? Arre talk!” then she slammed the phone.

    Rajesh was online and texting…he said, “Hey! Today our gang went for a bike ride from the office. We had amazing time and coffee on the way. Then we were driving like crazy. I had Rita with me and Sanjesh had Shreya. We had so much fun……but..”  Seema replied with smiley, “But what Raj? ”

    Raj said, ” I could not recall how I reached home.They must have given me something. I usually don’t drink with them…..that’s why musta be” Seema exclaimed, “Don’t you dare drink and drive….I will kill you!” Raju replied, ” Nahi re babu. Promise. Please don’t be angry. I said I did not drink….”

    Again the phone ring hindered the silence and she went to the phone again. ” Seema…Seema…this is your Usha aunty. ..Seema..” she just heard the crying and sobbing. Dark clouds of tension groped her completely. But the phone voice was very low….she tried talking but could not hear. Instead of asking Rajesh what is wrong she directly called his mom on her phone…..again heard the same sobbing voice.

    She asked hastily, ” Usha aunty why are you crying?…you are making me sick…please talk fast. What happend? …Is Rajesh okay? Or his father or anyone in the family???”

    Such questions poked Rajesh’s mother even more. She tried controlling that, ” Seema please come to the City Hospital….Rajesh is in ICU! He and frineds had a….had a huge accident. One of his friends Rita died on the spot and rest are in ICU. Doc…Doctors are saying the condition is critical….” She sank in the chair and asked, ” Since when he….he is there?”

    Usha Aunty replied, “From today after noon 4….4 only i guess! One truck driver helped them….”She felt totally enervated and astonished. Her phone was off in the afternoon and she came back from office at 7. Then they had chat for an hour….how’s….how is that possible? The chair is near Rajesh’s table and his window is same as his home….she went to whatsapp…but offline….no reply and no messages…..her brains felt the twist…..

     

    The silence, shiver and whatsapp…..

     

  • First Time

    First Time

    Rhea has never travelled alone in her eighteen years of existence. She’s scared and insecure about this whole journey but it’s been a while. This is a kind of travel log from her point of view depicting her very first train journey alone right from the busy, populous city of New Delhi to the Southern beauty-land of Kerala, also known as God’s own country.

     

    Story Text: Hazrat Nizamuddin Railway Station, New Delhi.

    Railway Stations and I go way back into the early twenty first century. I still remember my second train journey along this same route- New Delhi to Cochin. The first memory about trains is a bit vague because I was a mere toddler at the time. Indian Railways had played a very crucial role in my whole life. The anxious wait of summer vacations start right from the first day at school. Every new academic year brings forth new and fresh plans for summer instead of the academic planning.

    And once the vacation begins, it’s the wait for the day we board our trains to our hometown. The train journey is the best in the vacation time. The sheer joy of meeting strangers on train and becoming best friends by the end of three days, playing around in the coach, climbing to the top bunk and then climbing down and repeating the process all over again are only few of the amazing things that enlist in a train journey.  I still remember once during my high school days, I had met an army man on train. He was travelling to be with his family after two years of his term at the war. He narrated to me all the army stories which filled me with respect and admiration for them. He even showed me his family picture which he keeps in his wallet daily along with a small diary in which he writes a single line everyday – how thankful he is to be alive today.

    Once again, I am travelling today along the same route but alone. Although, the trains are like my second home, I still feel a bit of anxiousness in the pit of my stomach. I had not usually travelled this long without my parents. I mean, I’ve surely been to tours and all with my friends but this is really different. This time, I am travelling alone.

    The continuous chant for tea filled my ears the moment I entered the station platform. It was ten thirty at night and the train leaves in fifteen minutes. The usual hugging and wishing me best was also happening. Mother was the most reckless. Heck, she was more anxious and reckless than me. She was constantly on my head to check for all the necessities – toothbrush, comb, soap, towels all the papers and most importantly medicines for all kinds of sudden illness like cold, cough, stomach ache and everything.

    “Bye mom, now leave before I see the tears coming out.” I said hugging her tight.

    Dad was the strong one in us. He just stood there and smiled.

    “Ri, stay safe. Okay?” He said looking at me sternly but I could see his composure breaking. I went up hugged him tight.

    “I will.” I whispered.

    My brother was beside them playing on the I-phone but I had caught some mere glances my way and I knew he was not concentrating on the game much. I hugged him too.

    “Ow Ri, you destroyed the game.” He screamed.

    I ruffled his hair and laughed, “Bye gamer!”

    Before I would end up letting out the tears, I climbed up on the train. The entire luggage had already been stashed properly in place. The train started to move slowly just as I climbed up. I stood there by the gate till my parents were out of sight.

    I slowly dawdled back to my seat to see that many more occupants are already there at the cubicle. It was an eight-seat cubicle but I guess the train is going only half full and hence only two people were present. They didn’t even a give a glance my way as I meekly took my seat. I already had my dinner so it was just a wait till lights out that I could sleep. I took a look at my neighbors. I could see a boy with his eyes closed and headphones adorned his ears. He seemed to be a bit older than me but seemed completely cut off from what’s happening around him. Then, there was a woman probably in her mid-thirties reading a woman’s magazine and rocking the baby bump look. She seemed at least seven or eight months pregnant and ready to pop. Beside her, sat a man who also seemed to be in his thirties and he was talking mildly on his phone.

    He was whispering so lightly and it was hard to make out what he was saying. He didn’t seem related to the woman beside him, as he had not even cared to glance her way.

    Suddenly, there was a hand on my thigh and I saw that it was the woman.

    “To Cochin?” She asked curiosity clearly in her eyes.

    I nodded my head, “Yes, to visit grandparents.” I said.

    She made an O-mouth. “So young! Doesn’t travelling alone scare you, huh?” She asked, although I saw no sense of concern in her eyes.

    I just shrugged, confused how to answer that.

    She smiled as if she had established or won something and leaned back in her seat beaming. Okay, that seemed pretty weird.

    After about fifteen minutes of looking around, the man on his phone, cut his call and sat back. He smiled at me warmly before asking, “Would you mind exchanging my top berth with your lower one? I would get calls often, please?”  He looked anxious.

    I thought over it, although I knew I would say yes and finally said, “Yes! It’s okay.” He beamed at me and murmured a ‘thank you!’

    It was around eleven thirty now and it was time to sleep. The pregnant lady got up and started pacing along the berth. She even stamped on my feet a few times but I didn’t say anything.

    “Ho, ho, ho!” she huffed while pacing.

    “Mam, are you okay?” The man asked, concerned.

    “Yeah, yeah!” She nodded, “I just do this before I sleep. It’s okay. I’m done.” She said.

    I cast a look at the boy sitting beside her and he had removed his headphones and was looking at the lady as if she had two heads. I chuckled lightly before getting up to go to the top bunk. I climbed slowly and set my bed, with the blankets and bed sheets. I kept my phone by my head and rested my head in sleeping position. A bit like fifteen minutes later, the boy too climbed up and sat on the top bunk just opposite mine.

    I looked down to see that both the pregnant lady and the man had also slept. I reached the light switch and switched it off seeing that everybody was going to sleep.

    “What the fuck?” came a seething from five feet beside me.

    The light was switched on again and a very pissed off looking boy was sitting on the bunk beside me.

    “Ever heard of asking people beside you before you plunge them to darkness?” He said angrily.

    “I thought…I…” Okay, great. Now, I’m stuttering. “I’m sorry.” I said and looked down.

    I heard someone chuckling lightly and my head shoot up. I narrowed my eyes at him and frowned. He just winked before taking the blanket and lying down. He had the blanket over his head. I can’t believe it, was it just for the sake of a minute?  His head popped out of the blanket slightly and he had that devilish smile on his face, “Now, you can switch it off. Thank you.” And the blanket was over his head in a second.

    I huffed in annoyance but decided that it would be better not to argue right now and switched the light off. Soon enough, sleep took over me. Strangely, I always slept very fast on trains. Even though, the moving of the train irks some people, I find the rocking very comfortable.

    I didn’t know what time it was but it was still night, when I woke up. I heard some shuffling sounds from the lower berths. At first, I thought it was just the man from below receiving some of his calls but then I heard some shoving and kicking too. I slowly rubbed my eyes. My eyes first went sideways to see that the blanket was still over that arrogant head.

    I sensed that the train had stopped. I guess it’s just a station. But, this was a continuous train and it only stopped at Cochin. Guess, it had stopped for food intake. I slowly looked down to see that the berth was empty. The pregnant lady was still sleeping but the man’s berth was empty. His sheets were sprawled all over the floor. A myriad of thoughts ran through my mind.

    Why had I heard kicking and shoving, if it had been just a call? Why are his sheets sprawled all over the floor? It’s so unusual and strange. I slept back thinking that it was none of my business and I shouldn’t meddle into something I’m not supposed to. Ten minutes up and anxiety still showed red flags in my mind. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt?

    “Oh, what the hell!” I pushed my sheets aside and got down Godspeed.

    I stood at the lobby and cast a look sideways to see the other cubicles but all the lights were down. He’s not inside the coach. I opened the gate and stepped into the lobby outside and checked the washrooms. They were empty. Okay, now I‘m scared.

    Suddenly I heard some yelling. “Ow! Fuck!” It came as a cry of pain.

    I walked to the gate and looked out and what I saw took the air out of my lungs. The man lay down on the platform his clothes torn here and there and bloody lip. Hovering over him like hawks stood two beefy guys. They were well-built, their biceps bulging out of their skin tight T-shirts. They were saying something to him. I strained my ears to hear it.

    “Hand it over, Seth. It’s all over. You’ll live if you just give us.” He said, kicking Mr. Seth’s chest. He groaned in pain. My palms went sweaty and I started hyperventilating. This is something; I’ve never been stuck in. I’ve only seen such situations in movies. And there, the guys are artists and they pretend-hit but this is real. My hands were clutching the handle tightly. One foot down and I would be on the platform right in their vision. I looked around the platform, to see there was not one soul.

    I leaned a bit outside to get a good vision of the scene, but my legs slipped. I thought I’d land on the platform head first, right then but it never happened. I was held back by my waist and I came eye-to-eye with grey-dark ones. He had lines over his forehead as his eyes searched me. He seemed angry and pissed off, yet again.

    “Trying to be a hero? What the hell are you even thinking?” He whisper-screamed at me.

    “I…was…I…” What the hell is with me and this guy?

    “For god’s sake! Do you always stutter?” He rolled his eyes.

    “No. I… Look! He is in trouble.” I pointed towards the scene.

    “Yeah, I saw. And?” He drawled. Is he insane?

    “We should help. What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked looking at him incredulously. I then realized that he still had his hand around my waist and I shoved him back and pushed him away from me.

    “Are you crazy? Do you see us having any chance against them?” He said.

    “So what? That’s a person getting hurt. We should help or call for it.” I said.

    He rubbed his forehead in frustration.

    “You wait here. I am going.” I said and walked out. My feet landed on the platform and it made a clack sound with the floor. Three heads snapped at me at once. I shivered inwardly.

    They looked deadly. One of the guys had a long beard and he looked angry, like really angry. Another, looked amused? Why was he smirking? Oh god! I inwardly shrieked. Single girl alone on a lonely platform-you could get the scene.

    Why had I not listened to that idiot-head? Why can’t I be a normal girl minding my own business?

    “Oh, so you bought a girl with you.” The smirking one said to Mr. Seth. Mr. Seth was only half conscious so I’m not sure he even heard it.

    “You both,” I pointed a shivering finger at them, “Leave him, okay? Or I’ll call the police.” I said.  They stared at me for about thirty seconds before laughing out loud. Their laugh felt like thunder booming from the skies.

    “Look girl, now that you’ve decided to play hero, we accept your dare.” The beard guy said and started walking towards me.

    “I’ll get her after you, okay Si?” the smirking one called out from behind.

    Just as he reached beside me and his hands reached out to pull my arm, a deafening boom was heard. My eyes closed on impact and I held my ears closed. I opened them slowly to see the beard guy lying on the floor beside me unconscious. My eyes went wide. I looked sideways to see the boy holding a big steel cauldron in his hand and looking straight at the other guy who was no longer smirking.

    Where the hell did he get a cauldron?

    “Hey, should I come there or you coming here?” He said to the other guy. He seemed a bit scared. He stumbled his way away from us, leaving Mr. Seth alone on the ground.

    I ran forward to see his eyes closed and blood oozing from his head. I pulled him up and was trying to get him to stand up when another hand came behind his back. I saw the boy pulling Mr. Seth to his side and rushing towards the door of the train.

    “Quick, the train leaves soon.” He said amidst long breaths. I walked quickly to the train door and helped them up. Just as I was about to climb up, a boom was heard-cue that the train was leaving. A hand reached out of the door to pull me up and I looked up to see grey eyes looking at me. I took his hand and climbed up. The train started moving two second later.

    Close enough.

    “You wish to go inside or any more heroic acts to do?” He asked smirking at me. I walked in behind him silently. He slowly laid Mr. Seth on the lower berth. He was still unconscious. He took a water bottle from the side and flicked some water at him. He woke up startled.

    “It’s okay. You are safe. Lie down, you are hurt.” The boy said and switched on the light.

    Mr. Seth was at the verge of breaking down.

    “Does it hurt?” I asked him leaning down to look at his wounds.

    He caught my hand and kissed it lightly, “Thank you so much. You are an angel!” He said slowly as if speaking pained him. I blushed slightly.

    “It’s okay. Don’t speak much, you are hurt. Lie down.” I said.  He released my hands and lay down.

    “Holy Molly!” A cry was heard from beside us. The pregnant lady had woken up. “What in god’s name happened to him?” She asked.

    “Nothing just fell on the platform. Do you have any first aid?” I asked her. She nodded and started shuffling in her bags. She soon fished out a dettol bottle and some cotton. I slowly washed his wounded and placed a band-aid at his forehead. Mr. Seth had already closed his eyes and was sleeping. I slowly tucked him under the blanket. He needed the sleep.

    The train was moving really fast now.

    About fifteen minutes later, I was warmly tucked inside the blankets in my bunk hoping that I would get only in the morning although there were just a few hours remaining. The boy was also up and he was just staring at the ceiling of the train.

    I wonder what he is thinking.

    “That was pretty badass.” He said.

    “Thank you. If you hadn’t come on time…” I was interrupted.

    “Yeah, you would be a dead meat.” He said. He smirked.

    “Not necessarily.” I defended.

    “Oh oh, okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He rolled his eyes before pulling the blanket over his head.

    It was very silent but I was unable to sleep.

    “What’s your name?” I just asked. I thought he’d be asleep but after five seconds came a voice.

    “Roy.” He said.

    “Goodnight Roy.” I said after a minute.

    “Goodnight Rhea.” He said.

    It took me three minutes to realize he just said my name and I haven’t even told him yet.

    “How did you…?” I looked sideways to see his eyes closed.

    Guess that’s the mystery now.

    When I had boarded the train, I didn’t know but I guess I know now.

    It’s really going to be a long journey.

  • You Will Always Find Your Way Back Home 

    You Will Always Find Your Way Back Home 

    The story is about 35 year old dev, who has travelled the world but finds his happy ending when he finally comes home.

    ‘What a beautiful piece of art!! , nature is indeed the most beautiful portrait. It is so overwhelming to come back to the place from where you started’ and the photographer in him could not stop himself from stopping the car and getting a picture clicked. Ten years he had been in this profession, yet not a single picture of the place where he lived. It seemed as if he was seeing those places for the first time, because the memories of home seemed so distant and faded. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had abandoned his family almost five years back. The last memory that he has of home is shouting, screaming, crying and a 30 year old who left home without any goodbyes and hugs, but only a promise and intention of never coming back until now.

    He got into the car and told the driver not to stop now, until they have finally reached, otherwise his small series of photo sessions would take a complete day. Dev had been a photographer for national geographic for the past ten years, and his work includes countless assignments to countless destinations, where he spends months to get a single shot.

    He has travelled through busy streets, quiet valleys, historic places and a few war zone areas, every time finding a perfect picture to tell a story, an experience, and a human struggle.

    He opens his album, a priced possession, which has pictures from his travels. The first picture that he ever clicked was there, of a tea vendor from the streets of Kabul. His name was Anwar and Dev had been talking to him for a few days, to know his story so that Anwar’s emotions could be brought out in the picture. Anwar was a child of war, born during the civil war and terrorist attacks, and his childhood memories were all about air strikes, guns and the death of his father. He was the happiest tea vendor, who had never imagined that even he had a chance of having a normal life. A life without a constant fear of death was a blessing from Allah. Dev had clicked many pictures from his travel to Kabul and yet the smiling face of Anwar was the one to make him smile too. Dev flipped through the pages of his album and saw the picture he clicked in Cuba, just a few years back, of a dj artist aged 19, who wished to make big in this business and so enthusiastic about facing all the challenges. Dev remembered the kid as the one who wanted to embrace the world. Right below the Cuban kid, there was a picture of three siblings clicked in Jordan, war refugee, taken away from their families.

    The eldest was not more than twelve years of age and had the entire responsibility of taking care of her younger siblings. They were more than happy to talk to him and take him through their daily schedule, which involved looking for their parents every day.  As he kept looking, he found a picture of a Japanese festival that he clicked in Ashizawa, Oga with people dressed as ogres. He remembered spending the entire night with them and knowing more about their culture.  Then there was this sad face in the album that caught his attention, and it was of Amanda, from the LGBT community. He clicked this picture after the Orlando Night Club shooting, where the sadness in her face depicted their struggle just to find a rightful place in the society. As the album was coming was to end, there was the picture most dear to him of a Syrian boy who fled with his family to Ramadi.

    He had lost his both hands and his mother in an air strike. Dev remembered how the 10 year old boy could only talk about how he missed sleeping on his mother’s lap.

    The picture had managed to make him cry every time, which accompanied with the feeling of helplessness that he had felt at that very moment. That was the end of long work assignments, when he finally made up his mind to pack up his bags and go to a final assignment of the year, to visit home. He had been so uneasy and restless all this time, because the hope of finding peace in his travels and stories that he clicked was futile, when his own story was incomplete. Here, he was reaching the front gate of his home, that he left five years back, the backyard, the swing, the same sweet smell of home. It had taken only one call to his parents, to forgive him and catch a flight for home. He believed that knowing the world, numerous stories would complete him, but it was the feeling of being home that completed him. The tea vendor in Kabul taught him how it was great to just have an ordinary life; the siblings in Jordan taught him that what it is not to have the protection of your parents while growing up.

    The kid in Cuba reminded Dev of his own youth, so young and so naïve, all ready to conquer the world.

    Amanda made him realize where he did not had fight for his existence, and the Syrian boy just reminded him what it is to sleep on your mother’s lap, and hope everything would be alright. As Dev got down and opened the gate, he saw his family coming out, with tears in their eyes to have finally met him. He embraced his parents and cried aloud; releasing every emotion he had been keeping in his mind. They talked the entire day, and finally before going to bed, Dev clicked atlas the family picture, the picture that was priceless and that completed him.

  • HOW MUCH DOES A MIRACLE COST?

    HOW MUCH DOES A MIRACLE COST?

    This story tells how a little girl’s faith brought back her brother’s life. Sometimes, a strong faith can make even a miracle possible.

     

    “I have seen miracles just happen,

    Silent prayers get answered,

    Broken hearts become brand new,

    That’s what faith can do.”

     

    Scarlett lived with her parents and her little brother, Scott. She had a lovely house and a very loving family. Her brother was the apple of her eye, she loved him so much. He was the only friend she got. She used to play with him often. One day she woke up to find her aunt pacing in her bedroom.

    “Hey baby girl, you are finally awake. Come down and have breakfast,” said her aunt in a tired voice and left to prepare breakfast for her.

    The fact that her aunt was here was enough to create havoc in little girl’s mind. To say that her mother and her aunt never got along would be an understatement, they hated each other guts. Her aunt was only in their house when there was a family emergency. The last time she was here when her Mom got flu. There was definitely something wrong.

    Scarlett skipped the steps to reach the hall. In hurry, she didn’t even noticed that there was no one in the house except her aunt.

    “Here you go,” her aunt said placing her favorite breakfast in front of her.

    “Why everyone is not here for breakfast?” Scarlett asked, completely ignoring the breakfast

    Her aunt remained silent for a while as if she was thinking of lying to her.

    “Scar, last night Scott got pain in his chest and your mom, dad took him to the doctor. So you are stuck with me till they return.”

    Scarlett started crying, she was silently praying “God let my brother be fine.”

     

    That was two months ago, that day she cried continuously while her aunt pacified her, also Scott got admitted to the hospital and never came home. Despite her various antics and tantrums, her parent never took her to the hospital to meet Scott. She missed him so much as it had been two months since she last saw him. One day she overheard her parents when they were talking in the hall.

    “We have to move to the apartment this week. We have to sell this house for Scott’s treatment,” her father said.

    “Even by selling our house, we won’t be able to afford his surgery. None of our relatives are ready to help us, now only a miracle can save our boy,” her mother said. She was sobbing at that moment.

    Despite her desire to go her mother and hug her tightly, Scarlett ran back to her room, took out all the money from her piggybank and went to a general store.

    When she reached the general store, Scarlett counted the money again, fifty seven rupees. She coughed twice to get the attention of the shopkeeper who was talking to a gentleman but she was awarded with no response. At last, she took a stool, reached the counter and kept her money on it with a thud.

    “What? Can’t you see I’m busy,” the shopkeeper snapped.

    Ignoring his rudeness, Scarlett asked determinately, “How much does a miracle cost?”

    “WHAT!”

    “I want to buy a miracle, tell me its price.”

    “Hey little girl! See I’m too busy for your silly jokes. Leave now, I’m talking to my brother who had returned from Australia just today,” the shopkeeper said annoyingly.

    “I am not joking, I want to buy a miracle for my little brother.”

    The man who was dressed in a fancy suit kneeled in front of Scarlett and asked, “Why do you want a miracle for your brother”.

    “Something is wrong with my brother’s heart, Mom said that only a miracle could save him. So, I want to buy a miracle. I have fifty seven rupees with me, I can give you more if you want,” Scarlett said proudly.

    Instead of laughing at her, the shopkeeper’s brother took the money from her and said, “Take me to your parent and I will try my best to give you a miracle.”

    Scarlett grabbed his hand and took him to her house.

    That man, Dr. Vivek Sharma was a surgeon specializing in cardio-surgery. He took care of all the expenses of Scott’s heart surgery. It was successful and Scott was ready to go to his home after ten days of his surgery.

    Dr. Sharma came to Scott’s room for his checkup for the last time before his discharge and said to her mother, “He is ready to go now but give him medicines on time and don’t hesitate to give me a call if something is wrong,”

    Her mother took his hand and said, “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, Doctor. This is a miracle, I can only wonder how much did it cost.”

    The doctor glanced in Scarlett’s direction, smiled to her, winked, and then turned to her mother and said, “Don’t worry about that, it’s paid in full.”

    Scarlett knew exactly how much it cost, fifty seven rupees. Her faith was the only thing which brought back her brother’s life. Sometimes a strong faith can bring a miracle.

  • Love Never Dies

    Love Never Dies

    Love never dies.. Love understands only the language of love and even the slightest inception of it feels like heaven.

     

    10th grade:-

    As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called ‘best friend’.I stared at her long, silky hair and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. After
    class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before. I handed them to
    her.

    She said ‘thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.

     

    11th grade:-

    The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broken her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go home.

    She looked at me, said ‘thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek…I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

     

    Senior years:-

    One fine day she walked to my locker. “My date is sick”, she said,”hes not gonna go” well, I didn’t have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as ‘best friends’.

    So we did. That night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step. I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes.

    Then she said-‘I had the best time, thanks!!” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m too shy, and I don’t know why.

     

    Graduation:-

    A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched her as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine-but she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it.

    Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her.

    Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said-‘you’re my best friend, thanks’ and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

     

    Marriage:-

    Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now and drive off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove off, she came to me and said ‘you came!! ’ .

    She said ‘thanks’ and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

     

    Death:-

    Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my ‘best friend’. At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years.
    This is what it read:

    ‘I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he doesn’t notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be just friends,

    I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me!

    ……’ I wish I did too….’