A Simple Story

Written waaaaay back in my 10th standard!! There is a story in itself behind this one! Maybe I'll tell it some other time.

Reading this tale might make you feel like you’re tailing the tail of a tailless animal or calling tails of a coin with no tails and might result in your patience tailing off while you tail this tail-full tale.

A person personally doubted his personality to suit his job. He was a keyboard player, who opened his music filled musical room with the same key played the same keys looking at the same key.

The doubt, he confided in his mother only to get the reply that she had the biggest doubt in the world the doubt being the doubt of what the definition of the word doubt is.

Next his wife, misery was her life, said that no mad man will call another mad man, mad, and all are mad in this mad world and there’s nothing wrong in being a nomad for a job. Thus he went, through a big vent, wearing a coat with a vent, his feelings trying to vent. His home far behind he left and found his left foot a foot from the footpath which was a foot from the foot of a tree, a foot taller than the tallest.

He marched on in the hot march making a mark on the sand and having nothing more than a mark in his hand. A long walk from there with long steps along steep stepped mountainous area with mountainous people doing mountainous jobs, he came across a not which said, "Note to be noted: We hereby want you to note that this note will help you to get notes and buy notes if you want to and is as simple as writing a small note but difficult enough to get you an angry note from the owner, who owns this piece of land from the piece of paper hie father left him, died in peace and not pieces, years ago of ear pain, which could have been plainly painless had he not thought he ought and sough the help of a pin, strong enough to pin a pin, pinned to a pinafore to pierce his ears to hear more of the ore he found here. Considering that the person was an able doctor, this might as well turn inta well shaped fable where the hero died like a sable with a cable. Contact the owner with tact and the fact of not calling the act criminal is truly criminal."

Taking the note, he took off to take the job which was a job of giving the taken money from the owner. Deceived by the deceiving amount of money, he tought of deceiving the owner, but he himself got again deceived.

The owner found out and wound him through courts of tennis to a just court. The mad Justice after hearing to a tailless tale gave a tail by stating that, "Just, in a just way can be just a word, just to say nothing else but just, only to be mistaken when meant the other just, a word just as common as the word just is, in this just court."

Moral: Disagreeing to agree will eventually result in you agreeing that you disagreed to agree at first but now agree that it is the time to agree your fault and agree it.

Reading Minds

I woke up. It was still foggy outside and a slight weight seemed to heave down my heart. ‘What?’ I thought. Then I realized that I had done a terrible thing. It was just yesterday and my! It seemed ages ago!

I was still thinking what I should tell my boss 45 minutes later, trying to comb my reluctant needle hair. I abandoned trying and dressed up. And neat. I thought atleast I could appear neat. My heart was still pounding as it was already 10:00 clock. Late after the day of blunder. The blunder. Man! What a start! I thought. How would a bull-boss (as we all fondly referred to him) feel if his employee turned up late just the day after that…that…terrible thing?! I crammed a bit of toast hastily and ran to the bus-stop still wearing my socks as I ran or rather hopped single-leggedly!

Luckily (my first luck in many many centuries it seemed) I caught the bus early and reached my office. Standing outside the dreaded building I closed my eyes for a second. I visualized the situation. The confrontation scene. No. Either my concentration was terrible (as it has been since childhood) or the aura was terrible. Okay I agree my concentration was terrible. I could not even visualize good things happening to me. But the thing…ouch!... even the thought gives me pain… was already done. The only thing left to do was the climax. Escape.
If I had to get myself off this burden, I needed wit. Ah! Count me in for such a thing! I nodded to myself, opened my eyes, croaked my throat, straightened my tie and did all the preliminaries. And finally plucked up the courage to walk the ‘last mile’. I planted the dreaded file right up against my heart and walked.

I stepped into my office. The long corridor of doom loomed before me. On either side it seemed were the thorny bushes adorning the corridor of doom. In reality they were supposed to be my colleagues.

“Hey bro!”, said one of them. As if he meant it. And then came the missile from his mouth. He said, “I would get that off my chest before entering the Bull’s office mate.”
How did he know?!?! I thought no one in the world except me and him….o no! Did he? Could he? Could that idiot have told the boss too? Had he told everyone? How do I find out? If he had there was no way out. Should I accept my mistake? Or should I give it another shot? Such dilemma….
All of a sudden a woman just burst out of nowhere and blurted--“Sandwich?”

What the hell? I thought. How did she know I was in a sandwich? How did she know I was in a dilemma? Had all been taught witchcraft? Or perhaps mind-reading? He must have spilt the beans….

Oh my god! I never should have accepted the job. And it was me; I wanted this work… this particular project. I went begging for this project. I should have been content with what I had. Why did I want it?

“That’s what happens when you try to take in more than what you want. Too much on your plate dude?”, said another man sipping his instant coffee rather mockingly.
Do I need to say anymore? He knew just what I was thinking! Oh my god! What would this thing do to my career? Would I get another job? It will always remain as a black mark on me.
And just when I thought I had had enough of all this mind-reading magic, she came. The woman of my dreams. ‘I hope she doesn’t know’ I thought. But then she said,
“Urgh! Yeah the stain!”
Even her beautiful dark eyes seemed morbid when she said ,
“ I don’t see that one coming off very easily.”
The shock! Unbearable! I was shocked, stunned, stupefied, wonderstruck and all such words you can think of. I don’t know what else I was! How did she know that I was thinking about the stain this thing would leave upon me?! She couldn’t read my mind?! Then she would know that I liked her!

What the hell was I thinking. Nobody can mind-read! I decided to run into the bull’s room and get it done. Even before I reached his room I heard, “ Hey did you know you….” . I didn’t want to hear the last part.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I…I…”. The moment I stuttered I knew I was done.
The Bull turned. There he was popping salted peanuts into his mouth. Even that in regular time intervals. Surprisingly he said, “I have never heard you apologize for lateness before! Anyway, sit down. I have something important to talk to you about.”
So this was it. He knew and so did all his staff. Why did I have to tell that idiot?
“Congratulations! You receive this!” he said handing out a letter.
I knew it was a mock and the letter probably held my dismissal sentence.
But no! Lo and behold! Just like in all those old stories, I was promoted!
After all, the boss didn’t know! He hadn’t told. It was an hour before I was let out of his office. He gave a speech which ended by him saying, “Hey! What’s that on your shirt?”

And then as I looked into the mirror, all things became apparent. There it was, just below the collar, just above the dreaded file. A tiny piece of bread stuck on my shirt. There was no mind-reading after all.
Smiling, I turned back to my boss. “Peanuts?” he offered.

Choice

56 admission forms were piled up on the table.Chin on palm,a young boy looked tiredly at them.Half a cup coffee was turning cold beside him.The table fan rotated at top speeds.A clock ticked slowly in the corner.Tension ticked too.

'Shoofville institute of Technology' read the first line of the first form.
"I like it.But I.... this is good too..." said the young boy Anroop Noklue to his extremely busy mother.He held up the form--'Scoxine school of medicine'.

His panicky mother,apparantly in some haste,shouted,"You are 17 Anroop , for god's sake !Can't you decide on a small thing like this?I've got work to do!My speech begins in 10 minutes and I haven't had breakfast!"

"If only you helped me mom..."started Anroop.

His mother raised a hand in disapproval
"I REALLY don't have time!"she said as she slipped on her high heels.

Anroop followed his mother,still begging,to her car.Not with any difference.

5 minutes later--- 'Medical engineering---AGHKCL institute' 34th form.
A black benz zoomed out of the driveway.
The phone rang.
"I hope it's Abel" muttered Anroop as he received it.The news was shocking.
"GUTWINE????" he shouted. It was Abel.
"Abel....No....seriously?" he asked.
"Damn.Where is it?"---"50 miles off the campus of shoofville."
answered the other voice.

Anroop sat down disgruntedly.He tried to drink the coffee...he couldn't.It was too cold.'Just like my life' he thought.Atrena, the pretty girl with the black curtain of hair,too was off to an institute not in the 56.17 of his best friends were off to 17 different colleges.'Damn this country for having so many colleges' he thought.So many options!So many different courses. 'What the hell are my interests?' thought Anroop Noklue. 'How do I realise?Man! This is a difficult choice!If only there was someone who could help!' was another wasted thought in the mind of Anroop Noklue.
***
Just fifteen miles away a man, standing on a dias , said , welcoming a smart woman in high heels and who had just got down from a fitting black benz,"So....After an unlikely delay,here is Mrs.Noklue....Internationally noted Career Counsellor."
5000 claps welcomed her.
******

True Story ( well almost !!)

It was a cold October and my tonsillitis was at an all time high. I was ridden to bed and my working mother had to take leave. Such was the severity.

The day started the usual way. A heated argument with my mother. Only, from my part it was all by groping and 'mmm' s because my tonsils prevented the other way of argument. My mother generally a very patient person had to resort to loud words. It was the medicine.....yes it was. The point is it pains like hell to drink or eat anything and the pain doesn't subside till I drink the medicine. I had blurted it out and spoiled her new bedspread. She said if I strained to get it past my tonsils then there would be no problem. That was the problem! And the medicine was a horrid combination of sour, bitter and all the bad tastes you can think of. She had frowned her face in implorement.

Now however she has gone down to prepare my food.A light milk based liquid.I still have my own doubts as to the supposed fate of it and the actual that is going to be.Without any luck in my attempts to sleep I have resorted to observing the room and the small activity going on outside the window beside my bed.Recently a team has started the flooring of the newly constructed house beside ours.I can unoccasionally hear the sounds of grilling , drilling, and what not.I looked out at the unusually non-existent activity. My mother had made the workers' acquaintance and I too knew a few of them. Among them a boy , probably three , had caught my attention.

Now I searched in vain for him. Just a few minutes later however just as I was beginning to doze off, I heard him. He was calling with all his eagerness to his mother.
“Amma, Amma!” he called.
I couldn’t yet see him but his voice sounded excited.Only a little while later he came out into the open and I could see him. He was still searching for his mother holding a small pup he himself had apparently caught.

Caressing the back of the dog, he ambled all through the half constructed house. He had walked all round the house atleast twice and all the while holding his pup. At first he thought his mother was playing a game of hide and seek with him. He laughed about it innocently and sometimes turned back quickly to catch his mother sneaking away. He peeped twice into all rooms and checked the basement. He reached the top and called out again “Amma “loudly.
No answer.He ran back downstairs.

He was beginning to show a little fright as he descended. He could not show his pup to his mother. He lost his smile soon after it got a little dark outside. And his pup too a, little later.

His calling for his mother had not stopped and yet it was noticeably getting feebler and accompanied at first by sniffs and a little later by tears. I felt my heart go out to him but in vain. I could not call out. I could do nothing.

He sat on a small mound of stones curled up and started crying. It was with a lot of difficulty that I watched him there. It seemed like an eternity.

It was when he just stopped crying for a bit that I took notice. I looked out of the window again and I could notice a thin woman appear in the corner and the small boy’s eyes fixed upon her. The woman had noticed him. It seemed like she was checking some change in her hand and had another packet in her other hand.

I got only a blurred vision of him running towards her and finally upon reaching her, hugging her. The woman noticed him only now. The boy was crying the loudest now and saying a few things to his mother in innocent anger.

Just then the door of my room opened and a lady with a tray laden with hot soups and soft rice appeared. She placed them on a stool beside my bed. “Amma “ I said slowly. She turned towards me suddenly and looking into my eyes asked “ Are you crying?”. She came nearer and placed her hand upon my forehead to check my fever. I kissed her on the cheek as she bent down and said in a voice permitted by my tonsils “Amma, I love you. “

Short Story

The first paragraph is one I found in a "Times" article inviting aspiring writers to complete the story......so if you thought you read it somewhere dont call me a copycat.
As I dab my hands in the realms of uncertainties in fiction I request my readers to actually read the story as a story with some substance than just as a critic ready to pounce on a mistake I might have commited.I just wanted to say this before anyone attempts to read the following story.Also forgive me for awkward names( if it seems so) in the story. And yeah the whole thing is fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental......

The Other Face(s?)…

The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal 5 minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. I do it all the time. A little corruption, a little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24/7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? He told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian.

Gundanna was a husky man, a little under forty and a man with a lot of worries. He finally opened his eyes drearily to the sunlight pouring in through the window on his left. He spent three more minutes in the same position, gazing out at the dying plant visible just outside his house. What a start! he thought. He shifted uneasily in his fifteen-year old bed. His eyes fell on the ceiling. The paint was peeling away. Great going! He said to himself.

Twenty-five minutes later, he had finished his ablutions and just as he was about to walk into the 8x8 living room, noticed the ajar door on his right - his younger brother. He opened the door fully and found him still cuddled up on his bed and snoring. Gundanna shook his head and closed the door behind him as he walked out. All efforts to get him educated had gone in vain. Stories of his school, versions of his and his teachers (oceans apart) were numerous. He had dropped out of 7th standard, 15 years ago. Gundanna had tried to get him occupied in his own office, also in vain.

Now he walked into the living room and picked up his office materials. A pen and some money from his grand father’s drawer. He sighed to himself and sat down on the cane chair in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes. He was tired already.

“Leaving already?” said a very wavery voice behind him.
Gundanna opened his eyes and looked back at an old woman walking towards him.
“No Amma”, he said as he helped her to another chair, “I’m waiting for Sita to cook me some breakfast and it’s already 9:30 if you didn’t realize” he ended.
“How should I realize? I never learnt to tell time”, she said
“I know Amma, You’ve already told me”, he said and got up.
“Sita” he shouted.

A girl in her mid-twenties walked out of the kitchen with a tray laden with the morning breakfast. Gundanna took the plate and started eating immediately.

“You should start thinking about the girl also, you know. She is already 25. We won’t find suitors for her if we don’t start looking now”, said Gundanna’s mother.

That was all he could take. He walked out without speaking and left the half eaten breakfast on the floor. He pocketed his ancient mobile phone and treaded outside to his also ancient scooter. He thought of his wife and his little daughter. May be they would have shown some concern towards him. His daughter would have been a solace. But his wife was now pregnant with his second child and lived with her mother in the adjacent town.
For the past so many years , ever since his father’s death, his life had been on tenterhooks.The whole burden of his family-an uneducated mother, a vagabond brother , and a little sister with no interest in employment-had fallen into his hands.
*******

He went back nearly 20 years as soon as he caught sight of his workplace.

It was raining heavily. His father’s demise just a week old. It was his uncle, his father’s brother, who had brought him to this workplace. He had got the job of a clerk. Over the 19 years he had risen amazingly and had held the office for a year now.

Though his post was a commanding one, his salary was meager. Not even enough for his brother’s and sister’s education in a good school let alone their marriages.

He walked into his “office” and sat down. He finished his morning prayer there in fine minutes. He hit the table bell and a small boy came running.

“Let the first person in”, he said.

Five minutes later a man in a black Gandhi cap, an overcoat and white dhoti walked in with his file. He was a cheeky little man with a humped walk and had an eerie malicious smile about him. Gundanna took no second glance at him. He knew the look too well.

Gundanna opened the file, placed in front of him as the man sat down in front of his desk.

“Mmmm….”, he said.

The man started speaking.

“I had lent a good sum of money to Srinivasaiah and Lakkavva a year ago, Sir. The time for repayment according to the bonds got over yesterday. According to the bond he had to give his land of 5 acres. The part of land to be given, determined by the amount to be repaid. So…”

The man opened a few more pages and showed a small area of blankness for signature.

“You’ll have to sign here, sir” said the man pointing.

Gundanna’s experienced eye looked through the bond and a few numbers here and there. The amount given was Rs.5 lakhs. Gundanna picked up a small calculator from his office desk drawer and made some calculation. The amount of land to be given was about 3.85 acrees, according to the current listing of prices.

Gundanna looked at the bond again and it was already filled up. It said that Srinivasaiah and Lakkavva of Kallur owed that man 5 acres of land. Gundanna understood perfectly.
This man was just as he had guessed.A cheater. Trying to gobble up nearly 2 acres of land . The ethics of Gundanna was, at this point, non-existent.All he could see in front of him was a family , almost in disaster , and a new prospect of money.He had learnt over the past year atleast , not to care for such things as God and ethics…..
With a perfectly composed and meaningful tone he said, “So… the other party not here?”, he looked above his spectacles, halfway through his nose, at that man.
The other man just grinned. Gundanna coughed. Oddly, it sounded practised, experienced and croaked. Apparently, the man in front caught the meaning too, because he opened a small purse filled with money. Gundanna smiled for the first time that day.

Gundanna caught the names, Srinivasaiah and Lakkavva of Kallur just before he opened the cap of his pen.

******

It was amazing how time had flown since then. It was already evening.

Now, Gundanna was walking to the Town Fair.

He had planned this shopping just after he had got his day’s first payment. He would buy somethings for his wife and his 7 year old daughter and would go over to the next town.

Just as he was going through the assortment of bangles, necklaces and ear rings, he heard a girl crying.

An old man was carrying a girl about his daughter’s age.

“No..No…No…”, the old man was saying to the girl.

“The shopkeeper doesn’t give the necklace for less than 20 Rs. I don’t have that much.20 Rs is a very big amount for me! I haven’t even bought the supplies to the house. I don’t think I’ll be able to buy any seeds this year. No No No 20.Rs is too much. I have only 35.Rs!!”.

The girl wouldn’t give up. The old man let her down tiredly.

Gundanna thought for a moment and walked to the girl. He smiled and bought the small 20 Rs. Necklace. He tied it around the girl’s neck who stopped crying immediately. She smiled innocently and said softly “Thank you”.
“You needn’t have done that, sir. You’re very kind” said the old man.

Gundanna just smiled.

The old man continued,“Sir, please do come to our house when you visit our village, Kallur. Our village is just 2 kms. down that road. Just ask for Srinivasaiah or Lakkavva”, he said.

The names struck Gundanna like lightning .How he remembered the names!! He watched in disbelief as the old man walked, carrying the little girl, on bare feet. He couldn’t move and just stared. Five minutes later he stared through his moist eyes at the sky, where the black was enveloping the scarlet and gold in the distant horizon. A simile struck him.