stories, novels, biography, poetry, from-the-past
In my young days when I was living with my parents, I had the satisfaction of ‘us’ being under the same sky. Time has changed, now I am living with my son and satisfied that atleast his father and I share the same soil, difference is that, he is buried in the grave, beneath the soil; I am above the soil, a walking grave. I am done and dusted.
“We are not half of the dumb cows you all make us out to be, respected Officer. We know what lies at risk, and what we are being offered. We either die by your bullet, fighting to stay alive, or we die today still, only a little while later!”A man, seemingly braver than the rest, spoke up, making the others look around at each other’s faces, seeking nods of approval.“Do you not have a child at home, Officer?”A woman, following the lead, was the next to speak up, necessarily not meaning she had any less of a courageous spirit, but the little bundle of flesh, blood and a heartbeat she had in her arms meaning that she had a lot more to lose than just her own life, giving her more of a reason to stay quiet.
Ten-year-old Luke cannot understand this difference. Because it’s nonsense to him. Paul heard Luke calling to him. Paul asked him to join with him in the table.This is where Luke should’ve understood the border line. He didn’t. He went to the table and joined the dinner with Paul’s family. Paul’s mother’s face turned red in anger but didn’t show it out. After the dinner was over, Luke went to his home, happily.
My mood got nostalgic. I wanted to record poetry. When I was about to finish recording, a dog suddenly gave a loud bark down from the street. It was like an appreciation from the dog. To hear my poetry, I clicked the rewind button and then played it. I could not hear anything.
‘NO!’, my morals screamed, begging me to listen. I would never become one of them. I crumpled the paper, curling my fists to throw it away. My hand, for some reason, couldn’t move. “Kill or get killed?”… I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying my best to resist temptation. I failed. “Kill”, I whispered, smoothing the paper and pocketing it. The decision was made.
“So, what are you going to do now? Are you boarding that train?” K asked pointing toward the train trying to sound casual. He knew why the Gods have planned to send him back. The country was in a severe condition and this man, this soul had the power to bring the situations in balance.
For long term measures, we need to revive our lakes and ponds. Implement RWH system in all our buildings and encourage people to plant more trees. We need to shutdown factories that consume so much water, why do we care about liquor, beverages, cars and expensive merchandise when we can’t even rinse our butt after a poop?
Jack, who is otherwise serious to most people, is very loving to his nephew. He shuffled the boy’s mushroom cut hair and said, “Don’t worry, we will get our very own seat, but you have to be willing take all the troubles that come along the way.” – For that is what life is about, Mr. Jack added in his mind.
I wished my dreams were true
I could see the world go blind
Why O Lord,
You robbed away my sight
What was my fault,
You made me Blind!
In his ten years of life, Bonku had come to realize that his father despised him with a certain dedication. He was scolded often for not having enough friends, for being a favorite pick among the school bullies, for failing to be the class topper and for still sobbing for his mother at night. His weakness angered his father, and his anger humiliated him. That had linked them together somehow.