Short Stories

Why the grudge?

2006-12-10T09:39:00.000-05:00

By Madiha Anwar, from Pakistan

Recently a chat with a stranger on a deserted road was enough to break down the barriers of age-old conviction of goodness and respect, which we always try to give and receive. Why do we have so much hatred in our hearts and why can't we leave each other in peace? God knows, we have made this habit of living in "isolation" rather than finding a "solution."

Why am I saying this has a reason behind it, which will reveal itself in a due course of time but not before that. A family got a chance to visit America for the first time, it was a dream come true for them because it was an opportunity to meet their dear ones and explore the world of "perfection." They stayed there for three months and had their moments of joy and fun.

Just before their departure, a harmless incident took place, which changed the lives of so many people in ways they never imagined. It so happened that their 15-year-old son was surfing on the Internet, as usual chatting to his friends. Suddenly one of his cousins with whom he never got on well came online. Both of them started teasing each other but gradually the teasing turned into a row and a very serious one.

Soon the family came back but with confirmed convictions that the "other party" is to be blamed for that. Despite the other party's clarifications, the situation worsened. Many tried to heal the breach but failed because both the parties had their stubborn prides in making a first move towards peace.

Four years of seclusion have passed and still the battle continues. Life moves on and both the families have lost touch with each other. They meet each other on several occasions, measure each other by giving "icy stares" and "reserve smiles."

What about the children, who started the whole issue, will they ever forget this incident? No! They will transfer this "evil virus" to their next generation. Probably their parents have listened and supported their side of story but they shouldn't have made a mountain out of a molehill. Life is too short to fight over petty matters, we don't realise that but spend most of time blaming each other for our "own follies." If a third party tries to fill that gap, we accuse them of taking "wrong sides."

As the story approaches its end, so does the time for the stranger to leave. She has to go on a long journey, explore the world and meet new people. But her words, "Why the grudge for the sake of grudge?" will bang my head forever.

The Adventures of a Beer Salesman - 1st Day on the Job

2006-10-28T00:14:00.000-04:00

Short story by Johnny Wolverine, from Michigan Stadium

It started January 31st, 2005 on a blusterly cold first day on the job. It was spitting ice crystals that would jam in the corners of your eyes irritating your mind enough to wish upon a Chinese water torture instead. Twelve new recruits starting on this day that in their minds was the beginning of a glamourous, fun-filled opportunity. The office was in a state of confusion that morning at 8:07 A.M. The twelve new recruits stood there staring at each other like the contestants of a new reality TV show.

We were all wondering if our presence was felt in the room or was this just the realism of how out of touch this company was? We stood there for what seemed like a full eight hour work day. Finally, I got teamed up with the person that would show me the ropes, but first I must fill out the proper paperwork. I have always said your first day on the job always seems as long as your last day of school, you know like the clock was moving backwards against time.

The time was now 10:39 A.M. and we were heading out. The roads were just now looking passable so maybe taking all that time was not so bad after all. I was dressed for a Supermarket route and got stuck on Drive Thru duty. The elements outside were better than inside the freezing coolers of a Drive Thru, but that was where the orders would be taken. I was wondering what it would take to sell beer on such a day like this when I was thinking whiskey myself.

After a long cold day and ten stops we could only muster up a 32 case order. What had I gotten myself into? How can you make a living off of this? It is hard to justify you did the right thing when you start on a day like this in the beverage industry. Where was all the luster and fun that I was told about? Frank told me, "this is the Midwest, it is the slow time of the year" he assured me of this, "St. Patrick's day is on its way and you will get your first look at some excitement." "I am patient Frank," I told him. Let the green beer countdown begin.

Story of a Housewife

2006-09-20T00:07:00.000-04:00

Short Story by RANJIT SINHA ROY, from: HYDERABAD, INDIA

Shravanti unlocked the door and went in. She looked around with a tired and bored expression, put down the carry-bag on dining table and slumped on the sofa. She wiped her face with the end of the dupatta, closed eyes and tilted her head on the sofa backrest. Feeling drained, after the busy early morning hours, she felt lonely, though she had a handsome loving husband and a cute little daughter.

Every morning, Shravanti would be the first to wake-up. She would then prepare two cups of tea and take one to still sleeping Arun. After pushing and calling him several times he would sit up with sleepy eyes and leisurely take the cup. Shravanti would not wait. She had to warm up couple of dishes for Arun’s lunch pack and prepare some sandwiches for Minu’s Tiffin box. She would then arrange breakfast and hastily finish her cup of tea and two biscuits and make a trip to the bedroom. She would then wake up Minu, help her brush teeth and bathe her in warm water. Mummy would help her wear school uniform, put on her socks and shoes and neatly comb her hair. Minu’s water bottle, schoolbooks, pencil box, crayons and Tiffin box. Minu was only four years old and in the kindergarten. Breakfast over; Arun would depart for office leaving Minu to watch the cartoon channel till it was time to leave for school. Meantime, Shravanti would change dress, switch off the TV, lock the front door and go downstairs with Minu. The school was not far. Holding her hand, Minu would trudge along.

On her way back, Shravanti would purchase vegetables and few necessities from the local shops. That was her daily routine. On weekends, if Arun were in the mood, they would go out for a movie or to some exhibition or a circus show and dine out. Just an occasional deviation from the daily routine.

She opened her eyes and looked at the wall clock. Karuna, the housemaid would be in after another hour. She would first clear the breakfast table, clean all dishes, sweep and mop the floor, wash and hang clothes in the drying line and then call Shravanti to kitchen. Karuna was a dutiful young girl.

For Shravanti, life was dull and stereotyped. There was no variation. One day was no different from the other. It was boring. Like millions of other housewives, she longed for attention, not just as a wife or a mother, but also for her own sake. Something that would make her feel special, but then, that never happened.

She glanced at the clock and went to bedroom. She folded Arun’s pajamas, her own and Minu’s nightdresses. She pulled the bed sheets straight, fluffed the pillows and folded the blankets. Bed made, she removed Arun’s wet bathing towel from over the chair and picked up Minu’s rhyme book, lying half open on the floor. She placed it along with other storybooks on her small study table. She looked around, made sure that everything was in order and went to kitchen. Shravanti prepared a large mug of hot beverage and walked to the balcony. Her heart beat faster; she was mildly excited with a sweet secret expectation.

It had happened last week. Her inner desire to be appreciated as a pretty young woman was partly fulfilled. To her it was only an innocent fun and she did not consider anything wrong. In her heart of hearts, she remained the faithful loving wife and a caring mother. She considered nothing immoral in indulging in some harmless fun without any serious consequences. After all she was and would remain the sincere wife and mother.

The building on other side of the road had come up recently and occupants of the opposite apartment in fourth floor had moved in about a week back. There were only three young persons and no female member. Nothing unusual about that. Many young people lived together. It was all right as long they behaved decently.

They slept on bed sheets spread over straw mats on the floor. There was no visible arrangement for cooking too. One teashop boy would bring in tea in the morning. They would have bread for breakfast and for lunch and dinner they would go out together, probably to some nearby eating-place. Shravanti had never seen them going out to work. They were probably employed in some Call Center working night shifts.

They all appeared to be less than thirty. The oldest was of medium height and strongly built. She noticed that he seldom spoke. The second fellow was tall, with muscular long limbs, a thin face and long hair tied back in a ponytail. Most of the times these two would be sitting cross legged on mats and seriously discuss something. For reasons unknowns Shravanti did not like either. However, she found the third young man quite attractive. He was tall and fair with a mat of trimmed beard and thick dark brown hair.

Holding the cup between her palms, she put her elbows on the railing and looked down to the busy road. There were vehicles and people. She pretended to watch them, but then sensing some movement in the balcony opposite, she looked up. And as expected there was the handsome young man, with smiling eyes.

He wore a pair of off-white Bermuda shorts and a maroon sleeveless vest. Shravanti could see his strong hairy legs, muscular arms with well-formed biceps and the broad chest. To Shravanti, he appeared to be gentle and kind, despite his strong macho structure.

Though on the first impulse she wanted to ignore him, Shravanti could not help smiling back. Eyes twinkling, he gave an acknowledging nod. She felt her knees weaken and a strange slow churning in her belly. Her pulse rate shot up and her face flushed.

The doorbell rang. Shravanti gave a smiling glance at the young man and gestured that someone was at the door. He understood, smiled back, and went to his room.

It was Karuna. She went to kitchen and started her chores. Shravanti lazily surfed through the TV channels for a few minutes and then went to kitchen to prepare some lunch. Karuna finished her work and left. Shravanti glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. Time to bring Minu back from school….

For few months after marriage Shravanti used to be excited in Arun’s company. Now even after five years of marriage, she would expect the same excitement in bed. But on most nights he would turn to other side and within minutes, start snoring. For long time, Shravanti would toss from side to side. They loved each other very much. But somehow, daily life had become a dull routine with no excitement or surprises.

That night it was different. Minu slept and Shravanti felt restless. She whispered to Arun to come to the divan in drawing room. Arun was surprised. She rarely took the initiative. Then as usual, for some time they held each other close and kissed deeply. Arun fondled her and put his mouth all over her body.

That was when she had this fantasy. She suddenly imagined that it was the young man from the opposite apartment, putting his hands all over her and caressing. She shivered, moaned and breathed heavily. Groaning with a peculiar gurgling sound in the throat, she was writhing in a delightful sensation. Eyes shut; her thighs and arms tightened around Arun in a strong grip and after a violent shudder, she went limp with a deep sigh.

Arun rolled down to her side and put an arm over her soft, round, bare body. When he lightly kissed her cheek, she returned to reality. She then knew that it was Arun who held her. Image of the young man faded. She felt guilty and at the same time, she felt a tender love for Arun. Embracing, she lightly kissed him. Soon, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It was a little before dawn and still dark; there was a great commotion in the road below. Both Arun and Shravanti woke up suddenly and looked at each other, puzzled.
“What is the noise about?” Shravanti asked.
“No idea. Let me find out.” Hurriedly Arun got up and went to the balcony.
Now Shravanti could hear the sound of vehicles on the road. Someone was giving instructions over a loudspeaker. There were sounds of heavy boots and people shouting.
Shravanti rushed to the balcony and stood beside Arun.

There were some police jeeps and special vans flashing red and blue lights. One officer with a hand held loudspeaker instructed the armed policemen to surround the apartment building opposite. He also ordered the commandos with automatics, to go up to fourth floor and take guard. Powerful spotlights on top of a police van were then switched on and beamed on the fourth floor apartment opposite.

Lights were on in all apartments and people crowded in the balconies. People below were silently watching the operation. On an order from the officer, they moved backward and stood at a safe distance. Armed policemen stood guard in front forming a cordon.

Apprehending something, Shravanti asked Arun, in a shaky voice “What happened?”
“I do not know exactly, but it seems the police got definite information that some dangerous extremists have holed up in that apartment.”

Shravanti turned pale and she felt as though she was going to faint. She clutched his arm and asked in a feeble voice,
“What is going to happen now?” Her body was shaking.
“Who can say? Let us see. Don’t be afraid. We have nothing to do with them.” Arun put one arm around and held her tight.

Meantime the officer shouted into the loudspeaker,
“We know who you are. We have surrounded the building and blocked all escape routes. I advise you to surrender immediately. Can you hear me?”
There was no response. The apartment was dark and silent.
The officer repeated the same thing twice and when there was no response he shouted,
“We give you three minutes to surrender, otherwise we shall break open the door and storm into the apartment. “
Then to those standing in balconies in the opposite building. “You all go inside. Please do not stand there.”
They all rushed in and shut the doors.

He looked at his watch and started counting time. After three minutes of agonizing wait, he ordered,
“Attack.”
The door of the fourth floor apartment crashed with a bang. Then came the sound of heavy boots and exchange of shots. There were two chilling cries followed by total silence for the next few moments.

Shravanti held Arun tightly and buried her face on his chest. She was shivering. There were two dying cries .What happened to the third?

Suddenly the balcony door burst open and the young man with beard rushed out with a coil of thick nylon rope, rapidly tied one end to the railing and holding an automatic pistol in one hand, started sliding down. Immediately, the commandos also ran to the balcony and aimed their guns at him. The officer below gestured not to shoot. Probably he wanted to catch the young man alive and extract vital information from him. He ordered the policemen on the ground to stand around the rope and clutch him, before he touched the ground.

The bearded young man was swiftly sliding down the rope. He gripped the rope in one hand with legs entwined around. In other hand he held the pistol and shouted that he would shoot anyone coming near the rope or trying to catch him. He slid down very fast like a professional performer.
“Well trained.” Arun commented.
Shravanti clutching watched the young man with wide frightened eyes. Silently she prayed,
“God, Oh God, please let him escape. His parents, brothers and sisters are probably all waiting for him to return home. They maybe innocent people and do not know what is happening here at this moment. God, please let him not meet a tragic end, at such a young age. Please, please.”

He was then just about fifteen feet from the ground. Policemen rushed to the dangling rope.
The young man pointed his pistol at them and shouted,
“I warn you again not to try to catch me. Get away.”

The policemen did not move. The young man just aimed and fired a shot at them. It hit one policeman in the shoulder and he fell down bleeding. He fired two more shots. One missed and the other hit another one in the arm. The police tried to grab him when he was almost touching the ground. But when he started shooting at random, injuring two more, they were ordered to shoot. The bullet hit him directly in the chest and he fell with a thud, blood soaking his maroon vest.

His eyes were still open and to Shravanti, he seemed to be looking at her. He smiled feebly and with a sigh closed the eyes. His head tilted to one side. Shravanti let out a shriek and clutching Arun buried her face on his chest.

It was not dark any more. The eastern sky was now glowing red, waiting for the sun to rise.
In bedroom Minu was still sleeping.

The ambulance arrived with blaring sirens. Hurriedly they left with the wounded and dead. Police and Press photographers were busy taking shots. Next the TV people appeared on the scene and started video graphing. Then came the forensic and investigation experts, interviewed some people and went up to the fourth floor apartment.

Police guards were posted at the entrance and no one, including residents was allowed to go out or come in without a check. Few curious onlookers still hung around

Arun held Shravanti tenderly and said, “Let us go in, there is nothing much to see now.” He felt sorry for her. Poor girl. She had never witnessed such violence. It was horrible. It was a good thing that Minu was sleeping. Slowly he closed the balcony door.

Shravanti looked pale and dazed. She silently sat on the sofa for sometime and then went to the washbasin and thoroughly washed her face and eyes, as if wanting to erase all that she had seen. Without talking, she went to kitchen, prepared two cups of tea, handed one to Arun and slowly sipped the other. She felt slightly better.

She told Arun to wash and get ready for the office. Arun looked at her for sometime, and then asked a bit hesitantly, “Are you alright? What a horrible scene this morning. If you want, I can stay home today.”
“No, no. I am all right. I shall go out with Minu now. Then Karuna will come. Then I shall cook and go and get Minu. Don’t worry. You need not miss office just for me.”

She glanced at the wall clock. It was time to go to kitchen, prepare some food, and pack Arun’s lunch and Minu’s Tiffin box, wake Minu up, bathe her and change her dress and help her with her shoes and school bag and lay the breakfast table, take Minu to school and return back alone. Then, she would once again make her daily cup of hot beverage and sit alone, watching TV. Shravanti would not go to the balcony from today.

She knew that whatever little diversion she had for the past few days was now gone forever and would never return. It would be the same routine tomorrow, and then the day after, then the next, and the next, then…….She did not know for how long.

Shravanti got up and went to kitchen.

Moon Behind The Coconut Leaves

2006-08-14T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short Story by RANJIT SINHA ROY, from: HYDERABAD, INDIA

It was late afternoon when Rajat got down from the train. Winter was just over, and there was little chill in the air. Sun slanted over the trees and long shadows made patterns on the platform. Small, yellow, dry leaves had started falling and moved here and there in the light breeze. Passengers who got down had already gone out and the station was almost empty. Next train was after two hours. There were few small shops outside the station. The town was about a mile away.

There was a tea stall on the platform. The stall keeper was idly sitting on a stool. A large aluminium kettle on the stove let out light steam through the spout. There was no other customer. Rajat asked for a cup of tea.

He stood in front of the counter while the stall keeper carefully washed the cup and served. Three villagers were sitting on a platform bench and two vagabonds sleeping in the shade. Faint sound of talks came from the Station Master’s office and occasionally clatters of the telegraph machine. One solitary crow on the platform shed crowed. There was no other sound, except murmur of tree leaves in the wind. It was a very small station and it was peaceful and quiet.

One could hardly imagine that the city was only four hours journey away. Rajat sipped tea. It was hot and had a peculiar taste. Rajat for long time became used to air travel and could never imagine that one day he would be sipping tea, standing in front of a small station stall. In office, tea would be served in his chamber, complete with tea bags and sugar cubes. Here the things were different. After few sips he thought the taste was not so bad. He felt refreshed. The crow flew down to the rail track, picked up something and went up on the shed again.

Rajat looked to left. Tracks went far, far away to the horizon and seemed to converge. They were shining in the afternoon sun, waiting for the next train. Away, in the out-signal cabin one man was leaning out through the window and looking at the station. Perhaps he was feeling lonely.

Rajat felt strange. He was born in a small town, had his education there. But for the past twenty-five years, since he got admission to the University, he was in the city and there he met Preeti.

Preeti. Rajat thought of those days. She was a student in the college where he joined as a junior lecturer. She was fair, tall, slim and the undeclared beauty queen of the college. She used to dress the latest trends without being vulgar. She had number of admirers, but knew how to prevent advances and same time is free with many. She was a good student too. Her father died when she was still in school. He left enough for the family of mother and daughter to live comfortably. She had no sibling and for that matter no known relative also. Mother and daughter lived alone.

Rajat, was the most handsome, not only amongst the lecturers, he was an object of envy to many students also. He was tall, well built and good at sports. He had the natural flair for teaching and popular with most of his students. He had seen Preeti and silently admired her, but never tried to be close. She was one of his students and nothing more.

But, no one knew how and when it happened. One day they were found going round the book fair, other day sipping coffee in a restaurant and still another day sitting silently on a bench by the river-side and watching the sun set. They were seen in cinema-hall, coffee house and art galleries. In six months they became inseparable except in the college.

Preeti’s friends started teasing her and Rajat’s colleagues asked many things indirectly. Then the examination for graduation was there and despite diversions Preeti did well. She scored high first class.

Then one day, hesitantly Rajat proposed. Preeti smiled and asked him to meet her mother. Mother agreed and Rajat’s parents were also pleased with Preeti. The marriage was a simple affair. But it did not matter. They were very happy.

They took a small apartment and called it ‘Nest’. After a week’s honeymoon to a seaside resort, Rajat started going to college. Preeti was busy arranging their ‘nest’. After a couple of months she took admission to the University Post-graduate class.

Days passed like whirlwind. They could not live without each other. Daytime, they were in the university and college and eagerly waited for the evening. Night was like a dream; there was so much to explore, to discover. Known things seemed unknown. There was so much in each other; they seemed not to know. There was pleasure in every inch of their body. Every corner appeared unknown, though discovered only the previous night. They were surprised to find so much passion in each other. Then they would be tired and fall asleep in each other's arms.

Day became night and again turned into day. Weeks passed by, so also months. Even two years after, they remained new to each other. Preeti completed her post-graduation and Rajat became a Senior Lecturer. Still they could not think of life without the other. Living otherwise was unimaginable. Then the change came.

Rajat applied for and was selected to the post of a senior executive in an MNC. This was unexpected and both were happy. They moved to a larger apartment and got things they could not afford earlier. Life became more comfortable. But Preeti felt slightly uneasy – life was not what it was earlier.

With hard labour, sincerity, honesty and tact, Rajat gained confidence of the management. He got promotion within two years, which was uncommon in the organization. Slowly he became totally absorbed in his work. He did not look back, never went to the town of his birth and younger days. He was all the time thinking of office work, which Preeti disliked most and the drift started.

Rajat spent more hours in office and was little unmindful when in house. Some days he would carry home, office files and papers and spent late hours on them. Preeti will go to bed alone and suddenly waking up will find Rajat still on the work table. Then she would call him to bed. He would come and go to sleep immediately after. Communication became rare.

Initially Preeti thought, there might be another woman. But later she found that was not true. Rajat in his new job had become workaholic and for him there was no urge for other woman.

Once she asked – Why was he putting so much effort on his work? Rajat said, almost all his colleagues were professionally qualified. They had specialized qualifications either in finance or management or information systems or marketing. He was perhaps one of the very few, with only a postgraduate in science qualification. It was essential for him to put extra efforts to compete with others or even to stay in the same position.

Preeti understood and asked him to leave the job and go back to college as a lecturer, which would be more peaceful. They might earn less and miss certain comforts, but that would still be better. Rajat declined and Preeti did not insist further. She started feeling more and more lonely and spent more hours with her mother.

Then, only to spend time, she took admission to Teacher’s Training course and got qualified in two years. Rajat had drifted away more and the house for him became a place to take rest at night. He started going out on tour and Preeti spent lonely days. She did not tell anything to mother. She did not want to lose her pride. Then, suddenly one day her mother had a cardiac attack and she expired before any medical assistance could be arranged. Fortunately, Preeti was with her then and informed Rajat in office.

Rajat was very helpful then. He consoled Preeti in his own inimitable way. Took off from office for a few days and arranged everything from vacating the rented apartment to taking care of her earthly possessions. Rajat was with Preeti most of the time, trying to bring her back to her own self.

Preeti was depressed for few days. At the same time expecting Rajat would be same what he was before. But her hopes were shattered when he joined back office and was busy with work more than ever.

She was unable to stand it any further. A couple of months later, when he returned home after a week’s tour, Rajat found a small note on the writing table. Preeti had left on her own, and Rajat must not try to find her.

He was angry for couple of days. Then tried to locate her. When failed, he abandoned the idea, thinking that she would return by herself. Two years passed and she did not return.

Rajat despite his stubbornness started feeling lonely. When Preeti was with him, he was busy in office. Now slowly he started losing interest in work. Why – for whom and for what should I put all my efforts? - An empty silent house waited for him. Her things were everywhere; only she was not there. He became absent minded. Others in office noticed the change. First they wondered, and then gradually started ignoring him. One day the Chairman of the company called him to office and gave him a little advice. Next day Rajat resigned giving some vague reason.

For two months he was sitting idle in the house. He had enough savings and was not worried. He tried to read books or watch TV, but could not concentrate on anything. Sometime he would walk aimlessly or sit alone on a park bench. Then one day he met Sangeeta, the only close friend Preeti had in college. Sangeeta told that Preeti was in a small town about two hundred miles from the city. She was working in a girl's school. She made Sangeeta promise not to tell anything to Rajat. But now upon seeing him, she could not help it. She gave the address, and no – Preeti cannot be contacted over telephone.

That was last week. Now in the late afternoon Rajat was here, standing in front of a small railway station tea stall.

He came out and took the only taxi available. The sun was about to set when he reached the staff quarter. Little nervously he pressed the doorbell.

Preeti opened the door. If she was surprised, she did not show it. For few moments they silently looked at each other. Then she stepped one side and asked him to come in. He put the handbag down and without asking anything, slumped on a sofa. Suddenly he felt very tired, as though he had walked miles and miles, without sleep or rest. He felt exhausted and shut his eyes.

Preeti watched him silently for sometime. She had a strange tender feeling, then asked
"Are you all right?"

"I am. Only feeling a bit tired."

As though she understood, she went to kitchen and few minutes after, returned with two cups of tea. She offered one to Rajat and sat opposite. Now Rajat looked fully at her. She was the same old beautiful Preeti. Only she looked more mature, little full in body and slightly tired. Perhaps she was in the school whole day, and taking rest when he came. Her hair was unbound and few fell over her left eye and cheek. She pushed them aside and smiled. Rajat felt little shy and embarrassed, but smiled back. They sat silently, as though there was nothing to ask or to know. When it was almost dark, Preeti got up and switched on the light, showed him the washroom and asked to freshen up. Meantime, she said, would prepare something for dinner. As though she knew the answer and did not ask, if he would stay for the night.

Rajat had a good warm bath. He felt as though he cleaned himself of all the anguish, frustrations and miseries of the past two years. He was feeling very fresh, changed to clean dress and sat on a reclining cane chair on the patio.

Preeti came out once and saw him silently looking at the moon behind the coconut leaves and went back without telling anything. She did not want to disturb.

After about half an hour she came freshened, changing the dress and sat on the chair beside. In moonlight she looked very soft, beautiful and unreal. She seemed not to belong to this earth. She looked so pure and serene in the blue and white dress. Despite passing of years she looked younger. Rajat wondered, how could he spend two long years without her.

They sat looking at the yellow moon behind the coconut leaves and then Rajat hesitantly asked,
"Were you all alone these years?"

For few moments Preeti was silent, then slowly she said,

"To be very honest, there were some approaches. But I had no feelings. Moreover, most men want only one thing and I hate those people. How about you?

"You know me well. I had nothing in my mind except work. Sometime, I shall be inclined towards an attractive woman, shall proceed a few steps and then, I do not know how or why, invisible you would come in-between and that would be the end of the affair. Preeti, I am trying to be honest."

They talked a few things. Mostly Rajat would ask about the place, the school, the people, the students and her colleagues. While talking about the school, Preeti was very enthusiastic. She loved her work. But in-between she paused and said
"Rajat, I like my work, but not madly involved to neglect everything else."

Rajat knew what she meant and was silent.

After sometime, Preeti asked
"Are you going back tomorrow, Rajat?" She looked anxious

"Would you mind if I stay few days more?"

Preeti looked relieved and happy, but still asked
"What about your office? Can you stay away? Would you not feel bad?"

Rajat did not respond immediately. He turned and looked fully at her. His heart ached. Then slowly he said,
"Preeti, I have resigned the job two months back. I could not stand it anymore. Life became meaningless without you and I realized it very late. Preeti I want to be with you. Would you please accept me?"

She was silent and Rajat found teardrops glistening in the moonlight rolling down her cheeks. He held her hand and asked,
"Preeti why are you crying? Do you not want me to stay?"

Preeti put her head on his shoulder and muttered,
"Rajat, please don’t go away. I waited two long years for this moment, please do not spoil it. A position of Science Lecturer in our local college has recently fallen vacant. They will be glad to have you with them. Our School Secretary is also the Chairman of the College Managing Board. If you have no objection, I can put a word to him tomorrow."

Rajat silently looked at the moon for few moments. Then put his hand around her shoulder and slowly he said,
"Preeti, You do not know how much I love you."

The moon had raised further up. Now free in the cloudless sky, it was no longer imprisoned behind the coconut leaves. One cuckoo was cooing somewhere, fragrance of night-queen floated by, tree leaves trembled in the light breeze.

Holding hands, Rajat and Preeti sat silently in the moonlight.

A Silent Night

2006-07-29T17:49:00.000-04:00

Poem by RANJIT SINHA ROY, from: HYDERABAD, INDIA

I wake up in silent night
dark around and all asleep.
A dog barking in the lane
know not why,
may be a lone man returning home late
or a beggar curled up on pavement
or a cat on the wall
or a ghost in the dark.
It barks and barks and I listen lying sleepless.
Far away a train speeds through the dark night
wheels rumbling and faint whistle floats through the dark
it goes far and far to a distant land
then it is silent again.
I see the rectangle of a starlit sky through the window
Branches gently waving in the breeze
And then I see you there
your serene oval face and rosy cheeks framed in the window
smiling soft pink moist lips
silently you watch me in the dark night till I go to sleep again.

The Honeyseller

2006-07-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short Story by RANJIT SINHA ROY

Gopal got off the dirt road and went down the grassy slope to the sandy riverbank. His recently painted blue green boat, chained and locked to a large leafy tree by the river, was quietly swaying in gentle waves.

Gopal was a honey seller. Once a week he would sail to the mangrove forest at the mouth of the river, purchase honey from the collectors and sell to regular buyers in town. In season, he would sell mango fruits from his garden and medicinal herbs gathered from the forest. But selling honey was his main business. Last year he made a good profit and added one nine feet by five feet wooden cabin to the boat. It had a front and rear door and two small windows on two sides. His was the only boat in the village with a cabin and he was proud of it.

The river had turned from gray blue in the afternoon to inky black now and the boat was almost invisible in the dark. There was no other boat nearby except few vacant fishing boats moored a little away. Gopal threw the empty wicker basket on the boat, washed his hands, face and feet and climbed up. The cool river breeze was pleasant.

Gopal felt hungry and took out a small packet of peanut from pocket. Removing the shirt he sat wearing only a white sleeveless vest and dhoti (male dress in rural India) pulled up to knees. He slowly munched peanuts and enjoyed the river breeze.

It was a busy day for him. He moved around the market carrying the basket loaded with jars of honey. Buyers knew his product was unadulterated and straight from the forest. By evening his stock was sold and he made a good profit. Gopal was happy but tired.

He was dark, with a strong muscular body. Round faced with a sharp nose and large eyes, he was a handsome young man. Sitting alone he thought of his mother in the village. At twenty-five Gopal had none else. Mother kept on insisting him to get married, but he did not agree. What was the point in marrying when most days he would be busy collecting and selling honey? Mother said that his wife could also go along in the boat. Gopal laughed.

There were few fishermen’s huts across the dirt road. He could hear a woman shouting at her drunken husband. A child continued to cry loud and a dog kept on barking. Two persons talked in the dark. An old woman continued to curse her daughter-in-law, when someone, probably her son, shouted at her and she stopped. Lantern in hand two persons went by the dirt road. One cyclist pedaled away in his creaking bike. The child stopped crying. The dog barked intermittently.

Putting the basket on the roof Gopal unlocked the cabin door and hung his shirt on to a hook. He lighted the lamp, checked the quantity of prepared rice and curry, left after lunch. He was satisfied that they did not get stale and the amount was sufficient for dinner. After taking peanuts he was not hungry now. He took a glass of water, dimmed the lamp, took the flute from shelf and sat outside leaning on the cabin wall.

By then the moon had risen behind the dark villages in the opposite bank. A silvery path from the moon was shivering on the river. A flock of birds flew along the river and disappeared in the stars. It was now silent except for the breeze murmuring in the leaves above. Gopal played flute.

He played the tune what boatmen sing while sailing alone on wide rivers. The sad and sweet melody spread over the trees, crossed the fields, floated on the waves and swam along the glimmering silver path to the moon.

Gopal played well. It came naturally to him. He was absorbed playing the flute and forgot all other things.

By then the moon had risen further up and leaves of the tree above were glistening and cast shadowy patterns on the boat. A bird on a branch cooed and flapped wings. After playing a long time Gopal put the flute down and watched the nature around soaked in silvery moonlight. Small sparkling waves slapped on the side of the lonely boat.

He got up and went inside the cabin. Keeping the flute on rack he opened the rear door and went out. Then he saw the large maroon bundle in a dark corner of the boat.

Afraid, Gopal thought it was a wild animal, crouching and ready to pounce on him. He took the oar and holding it high, shooed to drive away the animal. But instead a young girl in maroon saree (women’ wear) stood up, holding hands in front for protection. With the moon behind, her face was not clearly visible. He put the oar down, and suspicious of her, asked,
“What are you doing here? You are a thief, came here to steal. Isn’t so? Tell me the truth; otherwise I shall throw you in the river.”

“No, no, please believe me, I am not a thief. I hid here to protect myself. I thought the boat would be a safe place. Please do not drive me away.” She started sobbing.

“Protection from what?” Gopal was doubtful.

“From my maternal uncle.”

“What!”

“Yes, I am telling the truth.”

She narrated that her parents were no more. As there was no one else, she stayed with her maternal uncle. She did all the household work, slogged from early morning till night. In return she was given food, shelter and some cheap discarded clothes. Uncle’s wife was also very ill behaving and never allowed her to rest, except at night.

Her uncle was a farmer and spent evenings in the liquor shop. There one elderly drunkard proposed to marry her. That man offered a good amount and her uncle readily agreed. The marriage was fixed next week, but she would rather kill herself than to marry the old lecher. That evening when her uncle went to liquor shop, she quietly ran away, hid behind some bushes by the river and climbed up the boat when dark. They must be searching for her now.

Gopal keenly watched her tear soaked face and wanted to believe what she told. He said,
“Let us go inside and talk. We can be seen from the road.”

In the cabin they sat facing each other. Gopal raised the lamp wick and looked at her. The girl was about twenty. She looked pretty, despite disheveled hair, unwashed face and tear marks on her cheeks. No wonder the old drunkard wanted to marry her. With large eyes and trembling lips she was anxiously looking at him. Worry and uncertainty showing on her face.

Gopal watched her intently. He wanted to know the truth. After a minute she lowered her tear filled begging eyes. She looked so innocent and hapless. Gopal assumed that she was not lying.
“What is your name?” Gopal asked.

She raised her wet and dark eyelashes,
“Malati.”

“Listen Malati, it is too late now. Tomorrow early morning you leave the boat and go back to your uncle. It is risky for me to allow you here. Have you understood what I said?” He maintained his voice stern.

Malati looked at him for few seconds. Gopal felt uneasy. Then she said in a firm voice,
“In that case I shall have no alternative but to commit suicide. I shall never go back to my uncle."

Gopal watched her resolute face. She seemed to be determined of what she said. Gopal did not know what to do. He thought for a while, then said,
“Alright you remain here. Tomorrow before sunrise, we shall sail downstream to my village. With favorable wind and tide we may reach in about four hours. Let my mother decide then.”

For the first time Malati smiled.
“You are very kind.” She said.

Gopal enquired if she was hungry and she said that she was not, Gopal said,
“You spent the evening without food and now you say that you are not hungry. Do not create more trouble for me. Enough is enough.”

Malati feebly asked,
“What shall we take? Do you have sufficient for both?”

“You need not worry.” He showed her the pots, plates and the water jug. Malati washed her face, hands and feet in river water. Refreshed, she served food and took lesser quantity for herself. When Gopal asked her to take more, she did not protest.

After dinner, Gopal took a mat and spread it outside on the front platform. He took the clothes bag from the rack as also a thin bed-sheet. Then remembering that he kept all the money in shirt pocket, he took it out of the hook and folding, put inside the bag. He could not trust her.

Gopal asked her to unroll the bed with pillow and sleep inside the cabin. He opened the riverside window and gave her a light bed-sheet to cover. He always kept certain things extra for emergency. He bolted the rear door, dimmed the lamp and hung it onto a hook. Afraid to help or suggest anything, Malati watched him silently.

Before going out he said,
“You bolt the front door from inside. If you need, you may go to the rear of the boat, but do not open the front door. I shall be sleeping outside. Now you lie down and try to sleep. We are to start early.”
He then added,
“You are free to go away whenever you want. Only tell me before you leave. But remember one thing, if you go, you go for ever, and there will be no return.” He went out.

Malati swallowed once and nodded. ‘What a rude person!’ She thought ‘No softness.’
She lied down, covered herself and looking at the moon through the open window, did not know when she fell asleep.

Gopal put the cloth bag under his head and tried to sleep. Pretty face of Malati floated before his eyes. An attractive young girl was available so near. But Gopal felt only pity for her. Miserable poor girl.

He was tired. Breeze was cool and it was silent all around. Small white patches of clouds floated over the moon. Leaves murmured in the light breeze. In the distance a herd of jackals cried in chorus. An owl hooted in the branch. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he fell asleep and woke when the eastern sky was getting pale.

Gopal got up. It was cold. He took out the shirt from the bag and after wearing knocked on the bolted cabin door. Malati responded and opened with sleepy eyes. In the semi darkness she looked more attractive. Staring at her for few seconds, he said,
“It is time to start.”

He erected the sail mast and Malati took the mat and other things in. She rolled her bed and arranged the things neatly. When she came out in the open, Gopal asked her to stay inside, till he called. He did not want her to be seen by anyone.

He unchained the boat and rowed it to mid-river. He adjusted and tied the sail ropes and the boat surged forward. Holding the radar he called Malati to come out. Smiling she sat on the edge, dangling legs on water and watching the passing shoreline. Afraid that she may fall, Gopal asked her to sit carefully.

The sun rose and there was the pink glow on her soft innocent face. She looked beautiful and unreal as if she did not belong to this earth. Enchanted, Gopal watched her ethereal face.

Now the sun had risen further and the night mists over the river were slowly disappearing. Few boats sailed by and stationary fishing boats swayed in the waves. Fishermen cast nets in deep water and the silvery catch jumped in the net when raised. Birds circled above hoping to get one or two of them. Dolphins played somersault. On the banks, people took bath, boys jumped and swam and women washed clothes. Wide-eyed Malati was absorbed in watching. She never had a chance to sail on the river. Nobody ever took her out on a boat.

Gopal felt hungry, but did not want to distract her. Sometime later, when Malati turned her face towards him, he asked her to get the small plastic bag of puffed rice and some jaggery (unrefined sugar lump) from inside the cabin. She served in two aluminum bowls and gave him one. She also brought a glass of water for him. After the simple breakfast he felt refreshed and smiled at her. That was the first time Malati saw him smiling. ‘He may not be that rude’ she thought.

Malati sat with arms around her folded knees, resting the chin on them and gazing at where the river met the horizon. She had a far away look and seemed not to belong to this world. Without her knowing, Gopal frequently glanced at her. She fascinated him.

She sighed and turning to him asked,
“Beside mother, who else is there in your house?”
“Komli and her child.”
“Who are they?” Malati frowned.
Eyes twinkling, he replied with a mischievous smile,
“Some, whom you will shortly meet.”
“Are they your wife and son?”
“Our cow and the calf. I am not married”
Both had a hearty laugh.

They reached the village a couple of hours before noon. Gopal closed the cabin window, bolted the rear door, locked the front and chained the boat. He took the bedroll under one arm and few other items in the basket. Bag in hand; Malati followed him across the rice field, through the mango garden and rows of coconut trees by a large water pond. There were white and red Lily blossoms and Dragonflies circled over the calm water looking at their own reflections.

Mother was in kitchen. She was surprised to see a girl with Gopal. With bowed head Malati stood behind him. Asking her to wait, he took mother a little away. He narrated all the happenings of last night and at the end said that he was not in favor of giving permanent shelter to the girl. Nothing was known of her family, her character and whether she was honest or a cheat. She could be with them for a couple of days, but not more.

Mother listened without comments. Occasionally she glanced at Malati, standing bowed head in front of the kitchen, uncertain of her future, when he finished, she went out, put a hand on her shoulder and asked not to worry. Everything would be all right. Embracing mother, Malati wept. Never before anyone had showed any sympathy to her.

Taking Gopal aside mother told,
“I shall now make tea for you two. After tea you go to the market and get two sarees with other clothing, one towel, one bathing soap, one toothbrush, one hair washing soap, one comb and a small bottle of hair oil. Meantime I shall prepare lunch.”
Gopal was grumbling at the unnecessary expenses, when mother said,
“Look Gopal, don’t grumble. She is our guest and we should take care of her.”
Gopal did not say anything further and went to market after tea.

When he returned both women were in the kitchen. Mother at the oven and Malati peeling and cutting vegetables. Mother was telling her something and she listened smiling. When Gopal came and stood in front of the kitchen door, mother asked.
“Have you brought the items?”
“Yes.” Gopal said looking at Malati, but she kept on cutting vegetables.
Mother wanted to see the sarees and Gopal handed her the packet.
One was light blue with deeper blue large floral prints and the other, yellow with broad maroon stripes. Mother showed them to Malati,
“How do you like?”
She glanced at Gopal, smiled and said,
“Very beautiful. I never had a new saree, nobody gave me one.”
Mother and Gopal were struck by her simplicity.

It was noon by then. Kitchen work over, Malati lifted water from the well and took bath in the enclosure in one corner of the courtyard. Shy in wet clothes, making short steps and leaving wet footprints on her path, she went to mother’s room and closed the door. She was afraid that Gopal would see her. But he was nowhere around. He had gone to the water pond for bathing.

After lunch they took rest. Malati spread a mat in mother’s room and lied down. Mother took a nap. Malati remained awake and wondered what was waiting for her in future. Gopal in adjacent room was checking and noting the transactions of previous day.

In the evening, mother sat on a mat in the veranda behind Malati wearing the light blue saree with floral prints. Mother neatly combed her long silky hair and knit a thick braid. She asked Malati to wipe her face with a wet towel and get the mirror. Mother got a red bindi from somewhere and stuck it on her forehead. She also lined her eyes with kohl. Malati held the mirror up and was shy looking at her own pretty face.

Gopal had gone to play cards with his friends, but came back earlier than usual. He then saw Malati and stood with open admiration in eyes. She blushed pink and hid behind mother.

Night she slept with mother and woke up early. She swept the yard, brought out Komli from the shed, tied it to a tree and milked. She cleaned the cowshed and gave feed. By then mother walked the ducks to the pond. Malati picked eggs from the pen and kept in a basket. She took used utensils to a corner of the yard and offered leftovers to the dog, so long curled up in a corner of veranda. She brought back cleaned utensils to kitchen, lighted the oven and started preparing breakfast.

Mother had come back by then. She sat in the veranda smiling and watched her working. She wanted a daughter-in-law like Malati. But with Gopal absolutely against her, that was not to be. She sighed deeply. By then Gopal woke up and coming to veranda was surprised to see her sitting idle.
“Ma, you are not in the kitchen yet! Are you alright?”

“I am alright. Malati has asked me to take rest. She is doing everything with my permission.” She smiled indulgently. Then said after a pause,
“Gopal, why not you marry her. You seldom come across a charming girl like Malati. I always wished to have a daughter-in-law like her.”

“No Ma I can not. We know nothing about her. She may be pretty, but that is not all.”

“See Gopal, I am observing her since yesterday. While talking to her I learnt many things about her family. She is a nice girl and I can guarantee that she is not a thief or cheat or of bad character.”

“I know nothing of her background. What about her father?” Gopal asked.

“Her father was a farmer like yours. She has no brother or sister. Both her parents died within a short time. Her maternal uncle then grabbed whatever property was there and in the pretense of giving shelter, she was turned into a labor in his house. I gathered all the information while casually talking to her. She did not tell anything by herself.” Mother eagerly looked at Gopal.

“What about her religion and caste?” Gopal probed.

“She happens to belong to our own religion and caste. But you tell me one thing, does it really matter? Is there no cheat or fraud or dishonest person in our religion and caste? Are all the people in our community honest and decent?” Mother was impatient.

Gopal stood silent and thoughtful. After few minutes he said,
“No Ma, I can not agree. She is to return. I shall take her back now itself. Call her here.”

Malati was busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen. They could see her fair face red in the heat of oven. Mother was disappointed and felt very sad for her. She said,
“Not now. Let her have breakfast first,” then added,
“Gopal, you are committing a great mistake. You will repent later.”
But Gopal was adament.

Malati brought breakfast to veranda and served. Mother tasted and said that it was nicely prepared. Malati was very happy. She looked at Gopal and wondered if he also liked it. But Gopal was sullen and silent.

After breakfast Gopal cleared his throat and said in a grave voice,
“Look Malati, You can not stay here forever. I shall take you back. Get ready. We shall start in a few minutes.” His voice broke and he looked other way.

Malati was perplexed at the sudden development. Puzzled, she looked from one to the other, and then burst into tear. Mother stood up. Malati clung to mother and putting head on her shoulder wept aloud,
“Ma, I do not want to go. I shall remain with you. Please tell him. Please.”

“Nothing doing. You will come with me now.” Gopal was firm.

“In that case I shall jump in the river and kill myself. Let me see how you take me back.” Malati was resolute through her sobs.

Gopal stood dumb for sometime, looking at her shaking back. Then with a broad smile and sparkling eyes, he told mother,
“Ma, you talk to the priest and fix a date for our marriage.”

Mother was happy at the unexpected turn of things. But when Malati cried more loudly, Gopal said,
“See Ma, she does not want to marry me.”

Malati lifted her tear soaked smiling face and told through tears,
“Ma, your son does not understand women.”

Role Model

2006-06-15T12:01:00.000-04:00

By SUKANYA SINHA ROY

(Editor's Note: This isn't a short story and wasn't even submitted to this blog, but it's a nice sentiment and besides, we're short on material.)

He was the inventor of the telephone! No, I don’t mean Graham Bell. I mean my father! Yes, I distinctly remember my grandmother humorously narrating how her little son assembled a contraption out of cardboard cups and never-ending lengths of string in their village home and continued to toil on it till it really worked. That was when Dad was seven years old. Today he is seventy. And most of his life was spent on inventing. Discovering ways of making the most of life.

My father is the first of six children in a simple middle class family. He was bright and adventurous but, unfortunately, the family didn’t have enough to pay for his college education. So, he decided to fund himself at a very early age. He worked. He wore a single pair of clothes throughout the week, washed them on weekends and wore them again. He braved taunts from people in whose place he got a free lodging and paid them back by running errands for them. And all this while, he never forgot to laugh. Not even when he had to spend the night inside a concrete pipe on the roadside! What surprises me now is that he narrated these incidents to us like fairy tales. He made them sound like exciting adventure stories, full of unexpected risks and fun. I feel he wanted us to share his pride at having made it rather than feel sorry for his hardships. Maybe that was what I basically learnt from him; whatever happens, never feel sorry for yourself!

And he did complete his education, took up a job and continued to lend financial support for the education of his siblings in spite of his modest earnings. My father gradually went on to achieve a commendable position in the aviation industry. Throughout my adolescence, I have never seen my father give up on his basic values. They were simple. Earn everything through hard work, perseverance and honesty. And, of course, never be afraid of doing something for the first time!

A lot of water has flown under the bridge. Today, I am an independent adult. Perhaps, I should have outgrown my childhood reverence by now. But I know I haven’t. Because he still continues to surprise me with his steadfastness and positive energy. When I was a kid, he was my swimming tutor who awed me with stunning underwater dives. Today, I respect him because I know he has proudly swum through life. Yesterday, he had solved difficult math problems for me. Today, I still talk to him at length whenever I have a problem. Not always does he have a solution. But he is a great listener and offers practical responses. From him I have learnt the joy of diligent planning and finishing a job with care and passion. Today, at seventy, he is struggling to publish his book, and enjoying it thoroughly. He will continue to be my role model of a persistent inventor who has never let negatives disturb his discovery of life!

Scissors

2006-06-06T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short Story by P O'H, from: Cleveland

“It is truly disgusting, the state of society today,” John said disapprovingly from behind the paper he was reading.
“What makes you say that?” I replied.
“The stories you read; the world out there just becomes worse and worse,” John said in a mellow tone.
“Ah, what happened now?” I sighed. I began to grow weary of John’s tiring tales of murder and mystery. I had been visiting my old friend for the first time in years in his small, lonely house tucked away in the woods. He'd been sharing tales of the bizarre with me for a couple hours now, something only the devil knows why he likes to do.
“The most bizarre murder has occurred in the middle of nowhere, it seems,” John continued, not moving his stare from the paper. His voice had grew soft and upset. “I’m not sure if I’ve heard anything quite so repulsive.”
“After tonight it seems as though I've heard everything. What’s so bad about this one?” I asked as I grew slightly more interested due to John’s shock at the story.
“The police, after getting a call from a real estate agency about an abandoned house, found the location and were forced to break the door down. Upon entering, they discovered a body lying on the floor, covered in blood. Slashes and stabs were found all across the body, mainly on the throat, chest, and wrists. It was determined (by the size and depth) that these wounds were inflicted by a pair of scissors.”
“Scissors? Is that all? Yes, certainly its gruesome, but come on John, surely you’ve heard worse than that,” I replied, not very impressed.
“I wasn’t finished. The body was taken in and identified as a Mr. ¾¾¾. The autopsy revealed that the man hadn’t eaten for at least a few days before his death. Also, it had been there for a few months. Though it was half-decayed, the hands of the corpse could still be seen clutching a pair of bloody scissors. There were no fingerprints on the scissors but the bloody ones of the corpse himself. He must not have been stabbed, but stabbed himself, and more than several times.”
This was a bit shocking. “Now why would someone kill himself, alone, in his own house, and with scissors?! I'm no expert on suicide, but I am definitely sure there are better ways to go about it than that.”
“It appears that Mr. ¾¾¾ stabbed himself in order to escape even more suffering. It says here that he was in fact trapped inside, with no hope of escape.”
“And how exactly does one go about getting trapped inside his own house?”
“It also says that not only was this not his house, but it was, among other things, a most peculiar house. The front door was found locked, padlocked, from the inside. And the back door was locked securely from the outside. There wasn’t a single window to be found in the whole house. The police were baffled and are still seeking solutions.”
“Then who was responsible? What kind of monster would go to so much trouble to be so cruel and so brutally cold in murdering someone? Surely, a shooting or stabbing would suffice. Not suggesting that murder is acceptable, but honestly, that is sadistically overdoing it!” I said, now interested, bewildered, and disgusted.
“Just as I said, it's the sad state of the world today,” John replied, now with a casual tone.
“I still don’t get it-the cruelty of humanity.”
“No one ever will.”
After spending a few moments staring at the wall, disbelieveingly replaying the story in my mind, I told my friend, “You know, I think I have had just about enough murder and mystery and torture for one night. Furthermore, I must be up early tomorrow.”
“Very well,” John said calmly after a short sigh. He continued, “Go and find your coat while I make sure the door is open and the light is on for you.”
When John got up, I saw him put the paper that he was reading down on the table that we were sitting. Once he was out of sight, I picked up the paper to see the illustrious story for myself. But there was no mention of a murder anywhere on the front page. Confused, I flipped through all of the pages and found no such story anywhere. Perhaps he told me it from memory, while reading some other story. Odd, I thought to myself, but didn’t think much of it, and went on to the coat room to find my coat and be off and away. However, my coat was not where I had left it.
“John, did you move my coat?” I called.
No answer.
My call must have been drowned in the coats and he couldn’t hear me, I thought to myself. Finally, I found my coat a few hooks over, and underneath a couple of other coats. Why did this guy have so many coats? Strange, I thought, but didn’t think much of it. I started my way toward the door. My friend was nowhere in sight, but I was now anxious to leave, farewell or no. Upon trying the door, I discovered that it was locked-padlocked.
“John?!”
Before I could finish shouting every light in the house suddenly shut off. Then it hit me. It was only now with the lights off that I realized the house did not have a single solitary window.
Darkness.
Black.
Pitch.
Void.
Void of all light and sound.
There was no difference whether my eyes were open or closed. The only sound was that of my own heavy panting and adrenaline-pumped pulse, deafening my ears. He has trapped me in here just as in the story. Is this to be my tomb? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. I need to find a way out. Screaming would accomplish nothing, for I knew there was no living soul besides perhaps that madman within ten miles.
Frantically, I ran to the back door. Just as I knew and feared-locked and from the outside.

--------------------------------------------------------

I am alone. Desperately alone. Outside there was no help for me, so I began to look inside. I felt my way around the house looking for something, anything to help me.
No phone.
No food.
No way out.
In my search of the house I found nothing but this tattered old notebook, a pencil, a small candle, and a single match. They were no doubt set out for me by John, most likely so that he could return later and review my last thoughts, to increase his own sick pleasure. The candle is short, perhaps shorter than my life. What would I do when the candle goes out? I cannot take another moment in the menacing darkness and the suffocating silence of this house-turned-hell. With my last moments I have decided to tell my story, a story that was told to me by a madman. A story in which I turned out to be the main character. And the victim.
But no! Why? Why do I write when I know I will soon die? I cannot be defeated by this house. I will not be. But what, oh what could help me now?

Ha!
Ha!
I no longer dread but rather chuckle! And I am not mad! No, for I laugh at the madman! He who was so clever to torture me and kill me like this has missed a small but very important detail that will allow me to emerge alive and victorious. Indeed I shall have the last laugh. My cell phone. The idiot forgot I have a cell phone!
Triumphantly I pick up my coat from the floor where I had left it and reach for my cell phone

in the pocket i left my phone, i do not find my phone,

but a pair of scissors.

Garden In My Weeds

2006-05-30T11:37:00.000-04:00

Short story by Usha Thakur, from Montreal (Canada)

After lunch, Roger came out in his backyard to read the last quarter of his novel. For some reason though, he did not sit on one of the chairs by the picnic table, but instead he sat on the ground, and leaned his head and back against a huge maple tree. In less than 10 minutes that Roger had been there, he slapped on several flies, beat up on a couple of ants with the maple branch he had in his hand, and was about to slash down a dandelion flower when he got distracted by someone behind his neck. Swearing, he slapped hard at the back of his neck and grabbed hold of whatever it was but could not tell because he had mutilated it so badly.

“Why is everyone after my blood,” yelled out Roger
“Because you are after there’s!” came a reply

Roger stood motionless. He circled around to see who it was but did not see anyone. Just as he was getting his thoughts together, he sneezed a few times. Wiping his nose from the end of his T-Shirt, Roger’s eyes got focussed upon the one and only dandelion flower in his backyard.

“I am going to take care of you right now!” said Roger to the Dandelion. He marched inside his house quite furious and returned carrying a can that had the symbol of poison. Just as he was about to spray on the Dandelion, Roger heard the same voice say “You Coward!” Roger froze like statue.

“If you think” continued the voice “you can be happy, healthy, and content by destroying all the other species around you, then you are digging your own grave.”

Roger’s initial reaction was total amazement that a Dandelion was talking to him, but very soon that changed to arrogance.

“Do you have any idea Mr Weed what I have in my hands?” ask Roger with a sniff up his nose.

Looking at the can and then at the Dandelion, he continued “All I have to do is just press once on the can and you will choke to death before my eyes.”

“And so will my little ones” said the Dandelion. Roger noticed that there were a couple of little shoots coming up near the Dandelion flower.

Following a few minutes silence, the Dandelion asked almost in a pleading voice “Could we ever co-exist?” This was a bit too deep for Roger, but since he did not have an answer, he posed a question hoping that the response would soothe his ego “Why did you call me a coward?”

“Because” replied the Dandelion rather calmly “there is no bravery in destroying anyone over whom you already possess physical strength. Moreover, only cowards take by force or manipulation what does not come to them voluntarily.” Roger repeated this statement twice before he got it, and just as he was about to respond, he noticed an army of ants approaching him. Roger picked up the poison can and was about to spray on the ants, when the Dandelion said “Don’t! Just step aside to your left,” and to his surprise Roger did, and began to watch the ant show. They were coming out of a hole from behind the Dandelion and racing in a straight line towards his house and entering into another hole. Occasionally he saw a bulge in the rank and file and when he bent down to see, it was a mama ant giving a ride to her little ones, and whenever the little ones fell off her back, they would crawl over the adults before getting back up on their mom. The little ones seemed to be having a lot of fun. Within less than five minutes, there was not a single ant to be seen.

“Your see,” said the Dandelion philosophically, “most of the times you and your kind are in our path; we are not in yours.” Just then Roger sneezed again and he remembered why he disliked Dandelions so passionately. “Well, what about when you are virtually killing me?”

“We have been around for thousands and thousands of years and have nourished many creatures on earth. We and our kind are not destroying your health; that is something you are doing to yourself!” said the Dandelion

“How so?” shot back Roger.

“Well,” reasoned the Dandelion “your immune system is so weak that anything and everything can get you.”

“Oh! So now you are a doctor?” said Roger sarcastically. Cutting Roger off, the Dandelion asked “What do you know about my healing properties?” Roger’s smirk turned to desperation. He tried hard to think of something intelligent to say but could not really come up with an answer. So he said, shrugging his shoulders “Why don’t you educate me Mr Weed?”

Ignoring Roger’s attitude, the Dandelion spoke seriously “You and your kind only know how to use all the other species for yourselves, as if we were put on this earth only for your use. Has it not ever occurred to you that before you landed amongst us we all existed? That we did not and still don’t need you for our existence?”

Roger was still processing the Dandelion’s words, when the latter continued “You don’t know this so let me tell you. Thousands of years ago when the earth was abundant in everything, we prayed to the Universe to add another species, and since we had co-existed for thousands and thousands of years with so many types of species, we thought it would be the same with another one. We were so thrilled when we first saw your kind on earth. In fact, by the time you arrived, the Universe had everything in place for your maintenance: plenty of clean water and air, ample plants to serve as food, and enormous amount of space for you to move around. We also noticed that the Universe gave you something that it did not give any other specie: it gave you the intelligence to create, but very soon we found out that it also gave you twice the intelligence to destroy anything or anyone that you cannot control and dominate. And, if you look around honestly, you will see and sense how much of that clean water, air, and fertile earth (and the species that live in those environments), you are choking to death.

Roger was definitely in the listening mode, although he did not have a clue how to absorb all that was being thrown at him. Intellectually, however, Roger could relate to what the Dandelion was saying, and he did try to think of at least one moment when the human specie consciously sacrificed for another, but he could not remember such an instance, as if that would have set the record right.

“For you” continued the Dandelion, “I am just a weed to be gotten rid of but in many part of this Universe I am revered and thanked for my nurturing properties. Why don’t you visit a real forest and witness how we all co-exist, how we accept the cycle to life and death, how we allow the old to die and be born as new life, and how we rejuvenate the earth. We make each other stronger not weaker. Just look at this maple tree you are sitting under – I did not destroy it and it has never tried to destroy me!”

“OK enough! Give me a chance to breathe” said Roger in an anxious voice. He used the silence of the next few minutes to reflect upon what had just been said. Roger’s thoughts went to the company where he worked as Director of Innovative Research. His department’s mandate was to bring together the best minds in the country in all the disciplines with the aim of figuring out how the virgin areas in each discipline could be exploited for the maximum benefit of ‘mankind.’

“Are you still there?” asked the Dandelion

“Yes, I am still here” said Roger in a very calm voice. A few more minutes passed and Roger asked in a gentle voice “How do you suggest we co-exist when for our survival we need to destroy at least a bit of the other species?”

“Why do you believe so?” asked the Dandelion. When Roger did not respond, the Dandelion continued “The Universe has bestowed in you and your kind the capacity to create and also the responsibility of nurturing all species living on this planet.”

“That is a huge responsibility” said Roger a bit horrified.

“Isn’t it?” responded the Dandelion.

“But you have still not answered my question” insisted Roger.

The Dandelion responded with a question “When your 14 month son feeds at his mother’s breasts, does he destroy his mother?

Roger remained quiet, and the Dandelion continued “When you pluck fruits and vegetables, do you actually destroy the plants? If, to obtain what constitutes food for you, you have to destroy one or more species, then have you and your kind ever considered doing without?

By now the Dandelion had earned a lot of respect from Roger. In fact, he was surprised to find that deep down he actually agreed with the Dandelion. Looking through the trees into the light blue sky, Roger asked the Dandelion “If you could ask our Creator to grant you one wish what would it be?”
Without hesitating for a moment, the Dandelion said “I would pray that our Creator devour ALL except the human specie.

“What?” yelled Roger.

After a moment’s silence, the Dandelion continued “Alternatively, I would pray that the Universe devour only the human specie so that the rest of us could breathe and co-exist as we used to.”

Roger could not believe his ears probably because he had been going through live as if nature was totally passive and his kind was all that mattered. Before he could respond, the Dandelion asked “What would you wish for?”

Staring at the Dandelion, and still in shock, Roger said “I would pray that I be given another chance to prove that we can co-exist.”

“Why should I believe you? asked the Dandelion.

“That is because until today…..” Roger stopped and starred at the Dandelion

“Go on I am listening” said the Dandelion.

Clearing his throat, Roger made another attempt. “Well, that is because until today I was not even aware of the beautiful garden in you and the weed in me and in my thinking.”

For the next few minutes there was pin drop silence. Then, Roger broke the silence by asking in a gentle voice “Is it too late to me and my kind to undo what has been done?

The Dandelion still did not respond and Roger kept staring at the Dandelion with pleading eyes, hoping to hear a positive response, but instead what he heard was his wife “Honey, the dinner is ready!”

A few minutes passed and the Dandelion had still not said a word. “Well,” said Roger as he stood up “Think about what I said and we’ll discuss it tomorrow morning.”

Before he entered the house, Roger turned to the Dandelion, lifted his right hand with one finger up, and yelled “Just one chance!”

THE END!

Send Us Your Original Poetry

2006-05-24T00:03:00.000-04:00

We will be posting original poetry on this page. If we get a good enough response we'll start a new blog just for poetry. We want to thank Ranjit Sinha Roy for getting us started with poetry.

Dusk to Dawn

2006-05-24T00:01:00.000-04:00

Poem by RANJIT SINHA ROY

If you are the dawn,
I am the dusk.
You are in morning glory,
I am in twilight zone.
You have flowering buds,
I have falling petals.
You have dreams,
I have memories.
You have promises,
I have failures.
You wait for a bright day,
I wait for the endless dark night.
You are half the world away,
and I can never reach you.
I call you from far and far
But you cannot hear me.

You look at the blue sky,
at green grass with glistening dew drops,
and budding flowers,
and quiet flowing rivers,
and mountains with snow white peaks.
You listen to morning birds,
singing welcome songs to the rising sun,
the coming day, the happy moments.
You have no time for the dusk,
who completed the day,
and soon shall enter the dark night
vanishing in space, disappear forever.

You cannot hear me, who am miles away.
You wait for the coming bright day,
with promises for a beautiful and pleasant time.

Evil Grin

2006-05-12T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short Story by VictorM

It’s summer time. The warm morning sun shines on the house with an overgrown grass lawn and paint peeling around the windows. Inside, a young man rises. Posters of Hitler and the KKK adorn his room. His black outfit and dour personality complete an all too common stereotype: the suburban white boy with hate in his heart. He places his KKK ring on his middle finger and steps outside. He puts his sunglasses on and smiles an evil grin.

The house next door, with manicured grass and immaculate curtains, conveys a sense of contrast. Gina, a 16-year-old girl, rises. Her room is messy. A burner, flasks, test tubes, matches, firecrackers, and how-to books clutter her desk. Strange books like Practical Uses for Manure and Clorox. Her face shows the strain of restless sleep. She brushes her teeth, drags a brush across her hair and gets dressed. She stuffs the pocket of her jeans with money she earned from baby-sitting. She picks up a brown paper bag and heads out the door.

Once outside she comes face to face with King, the boy next door. He stands in front of Gina, shoves his KKK ring on her face and twirls his fingers. “Remember, these fingers will rule the world!” he says with his usual arrogance. Many times before Gina ran away to avoid this type of confrontation. Today, however, her eyes, cold and indifferent, glance at him for a few seconds. Without a word, she just walks past him. He does not follow her but dishes out his usual barrage of insults and threats. As he walks away, he smiles an evil grin.

Gina enters the restroom at the bus station. Closing herself in a stall, she removes the contents of her brown bag. She sits back for a minute contemplating her decision. She sighs. In a move full of determination, she places the brown wig on her head, adds a touch of blush and lipstick, just enough to make her look a bit different. Stepping outside, she boards the bus that will take her to a few towns over.

Sitting quietly towards the back of the bus, Gina’s determined exterior camouflages a mind that races ferociously for justification to what she’s about to do. Her eyes tear slightly as she recalls King’s oppressive behavior for over one year. She remembers the cries for help that fell on deft hears of school officials, police officers, and even her parents. As she searches her mind for assurances that she tried all she could, there is something that strengthens her resolve: she senses King’s stench of hate.

She tries in vain to stop thinking about that night. She can’t even recall all of it, just bits and pieces. Her parents were out of the house for the night. She remembers hearing the noise behind her… King stepping into her room… his voice uttering “I rule you”. She remembers delivering a stiff knee to his crotch… the feel of his hand grabbing her t-shirt as she tried to run away. Her memory starts fading at this point. She remembers pain, but mostly she remembers the feeling of hopelessness. Her mind is filled with blanks. Next she vaguely remembers her skin wrinkle in the shower from spending too much time scrubbing herself, wanting to wash away that revolting stench. One thing, however, she recalls vividly -- his evil grin.

Gina’s mind returns to the present as the bus reaches her destination. She wipes the tears from her eyes and descends from the bus. She wonders downtown looking for the pawnshop that she read about in a newspaper. She can’t find it at first, but is determined not to ask anyone. Finally, she finds it and walks in. She knows what she’s after. She stops in front of a globe. A pretty globe. A hallow globe. She trades it for her money.

As she walks home with her package, King comes out to meet her. She controls herself as she feels that stench again. King claims he does not hate blacks or Jews or other minorities. He simply thinks they are inferior. But Gina, that’s a different story. He hates her with passion because she’s the worse kind of all: a white girl who dances to nigger music, sympathizes with Jews, runs around with spicks. She is a traitor to the cause. He doesn’t hesitate to let her know of his relentless hate for her. Using his much bigger size and vicious mind, he has succeeded in intimidating her. But not today. Today she walks firmly, determined, confident. Somehow, he senses it. Something is different about her. Her eyes show no fear. She walks by him as he simply shakes his head and smiles his evil grin.

Always an excellent student, Gina’s grades plummeted over the last few months. With the exception of an “A” in Chemistry, all her other grades were “D” or below. She must attend summer school to make up for the failing grades. Apart from the time spent at school, Gina has pretty much secluded herself to her room. She often sneaks out in the middle of the night, riding her bike for several miles to the abandoned quarry where she conducts her experiments.

As the summer vacation nears the end, and much to her parent’s relief, Gina seems to have snapped out of her slump. She has gone on a cleaning rampage. Much of the debris that adorned her room has been removed. All the strange books are gone. Piles of garbage were dumped in the city dump. She scrubs clean every inch of her room. Her parents don’t question this change – they welcome it. They are happy to see her back to normal. Her room is now spotless.

It’s the day before regular school is to start. King answers his doorbell but sees no one around. Stepping outside he notices a box on the porch. Puzzled, he opens the box. It’s a globe. A pretty globe. A not so hallow globe. He grins as he reads the note that simply says: “Rule this!” He doesn’t notice the faint tick, tick, tick sound until it’s too late.

The incident was a shock to this quiet suburban town. The media attention was intense but short-lived. And so was the line of questioning by a police department inexperienced at dealing with bombs. She remembers the visit by Lt. Moosie. He seemed more interested in sounding like a movie character than doing his job. He apologized for the inconvenience and stated that the questioning was just a formality. In fact, they had reason to believe that due to King’s affiliations, there were explosives in the house. They ruled his death an accident.

As she takes the test back from the teacher, Gina takes a deep breath, then looks. Another “A”. The teacher stands over her, pats her shoulder and says, “It’s amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it Gina. Congratulations.” Many of her friends rejoice at her turn around. This is the Gina they all knew. She smiles and thanks them.

When she gets home, Gina reads her mom’s note to do yard work. Autumn has come early. Gina grabs a garbage bag and a rake. She starts raking the leaves from behind the bushes. She notices a strange object. She looks closer. It’s a charred finger with a KKK ring around it. “Um..” she mutters to herself. She tosses it into her plastic garbage bag and walks way, smiling an evil grin.

Sunset Sonata

2006-05-02T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short Story by RANJIT SINHA ROY

Aravind jogged around the park five times. Now sweating and feeling tired he looked for a place to sit. But all benches were occupied except one where two elderly women were busy talking. With their permission Aravind occupied the vacant place.

He was fifty-two. Took voluntary retirement two years ago. He was a bachelor and lived alone. Before sunset he would go for daily jogging to the nearby park. He would be there until dark. Aravind maintained himself fit and agile. Except for few gray strands, the age did not show. His body was trim, more active and agile than many young were.

Arvind liked this part of the day most. He watched children playing and liked the soft green grass, flowerbeds around and shady trees over the jogging track. The park was small compared to other city parks. But, it was well maintained. This particular park was a favorite of small kids. Playing football or cricket or such other games were not permitted. Baloon and icecreme vendors were not allowed in. One watchman at the gate and other inside strictly followed the rules. The park was kept open from four to eight in the evening. Aravind liked the place.

With amused smile he watched the kids playing. They walked with unsteady steps, giggling, tried to run away from parents and tumbled on the soft grass. Some had large colored plastic balls and they played with other children. One would feel refreshed watching the kids.

After sometime the two elderly ladies finished gossiping for the day and left. Aravind was absorbed in watching the kids, when someone said,
“May I sit here, sir?”
Startled, he looked to the side and saw a smiling young girl of about twenty-five asking him. A small kid with a large red plastic ball in one hand was holding her finger.
Arvind said,
“Oh, sure. Please sit down.”
The girl sat on the bench and the child played on the grass. He tried to kick the ball and fell. Both Aravind and the girl were smiling. After several failures, the girl asked him to throw the ball to her and they played back and forth. Few times the ball fell on Aravind and he returned with smile. He also enjoyed playing.

Aravind had seen the girl with the kid earlier also. There were so many like them coming to the park and there was no reason to remember them. But this particular girl had something indefinable in her face or stature that made her distinct from others.
The boy and the girl played with the ball and enjoyed. After sometime the boy was tired, stopped playing and quietly sat beside the girl.
Aravind asked,
“Your son?”
The girl blushed.
“Oh no sir. He is my brother’s son. I am not married yet.”
Aravind felt slightly embarrassed. He should have noticed.
“I am sorry.” He mumbled.
They silently sat for some more time and when the streetlights were on, the girl said,
“Sir, we should go now.”
Aravind nodded and said, “OK” and they went away.
He sat for some more time and when it was dark, he walked back to his apartment. For some unknown reason he felt elated that evening.

Next day the girl with the child was there again. One space was vacant in the bench and she sat there. Smiling she said,
“Good evening sir. How are you?”
“I am fine, thank you.”
They played with the child. After sometime he played football with another boy of his age. Several times they tumbled on the grass, but they giggled and laughed. The girl kept an eye on him. Aravind asked,
“Do you come to the park every evening? I have seen you earlier also.”
“Yes, he will start crying if I do not bring him here. Both my brother and sister-in-law are working. I look after the child all day. There is no one else and by evening he gets bored and wants to come to the park. It is alright, I also get some fresh air.” She smiled.
“By the by, I do not know your name.”
“I am Nandini.”
Aravind told his own and then said,
“Excuse me, you said whole day you are alone with the child. Do you not work or go to college?”
“No sir, I have completed my Post Graduation in Comparative English Literature and have not joined any service.” Then shyly added, “My brother is trying a good match for me.”
(Arranged marriages with elders fixing the match are common in India)

“What your parents say?”
“They are no more. I stay with my brother and sister-in-law. They are very nice. I never felt the absence of my parents.”
Aravind thought about his own brother and sister. How much he loved them. He even sacrificed his personal pleasures for their sake. He said,
“In absence of father, the elder brother should look after the siblings. But few only do that. You are very lucky to have a brother like him. You are doubly fortunate to have a sister-in-law like yours.”
Nandini’s face became soft. “Yes I am very fortunate. She is like my own elder sister.”
After a pause she asked,
“Sir, I find you here alone everyday. Where is your better half? Why do you not bring her along? I would like to meet her.”
“There is no other half, Nandini. I am a bachelor.”
Surprised Nandini asked,
“Why did you not marry sir?”
Aravind softly smiled at her, and then said, “It is already late for you Nandini. I shall tell you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, promise.”
Reluctantly she got up. Holding a hand of the boy started walking back home.
Once she looked back and smiled at Aravind. He watched her with a tender affectionate smile.

Next evening she came a little early and smiled when saw him from a distance. No vacant bench was available that day and they sat on the soft grass. Few feet away the boy played with his newfound friends. They sat silently for few moments and then Nandini turning towards him said,
“Sir, yesterday you promised to tell about yourself.” She was smiling with expectation.
“Yes, but there is nothing much to tell. I had a very uneventful life.”
“No! But still you say whatever it is.” Nandini insisted.

“Well, Nandini, after post graduation, I was only two years in service when my father expired. Alone I had to support my mother and two college going brother and sister. My brother graduated in computer engineering and got an opportunity in a US firm. He is now a permanent citizen there, married and well settled. My sister, also an MCA married her colleague, a software engineer. They tried and managed a posting in USA. Now, both my siblings are away from the country. We maintain regular contact over phone and e-mails. Earlier, when mother was alive, they used to visit India once in a couple of years. But now, visits are less frequent.”
Aravind was silent. So also Nandini for few minutes. Then she said,
“But, why did you not get married? Was there any heartbreak sir? You are so handsome even at this age. I do not believe that you had no affair.”
She smiled mischievously.
Laughingly he said,
“Thanks for the compliment. But frankly speaking, I never got time for an affair. None was to my liking. When alive my mother was insisting for marriage. But after her death the chapter was closed forever. Taking housing loan I purchased an apartment. I spend time reading, watching TV and listening to music. One elderly lady comes early morning, cleans everything and prepares food for me. She leaves by ten and I am left all to myself. And, now you know, I do some jogging in the evening. I am quite happy with my life.” Aravind smiled. But to Nandini it appeared to be somewhat sad.
After few moments Nandini asked,
“Why not try now sir? You may find someone to your liking.”
“No Nandini, it is too late now. Rather, we should try to find a suitable boy for you. Are your people looking for a good match?”
Nandini looked down,
“Yes sir. My brother advertised in the newspaper matrimonial column and yesterday we received few responses with details and photographs.”
“Very good. You must have seen those. Could you select any?”
Nandini blushed and then said,
“Yes sir. One of them is good. I have already given my consent. Tomorrow evening the groom’s party will come to our place and decide everything.”
“So, tomorrow evening you are not coming to the park?”
“No sir, but day after I shall be here and tell you the details. I shall bring the boy’s photograph also. Oh, I must go now, it is getting dark.” Nandini got up and smiled at Aravind. She looked very happy with the prospect of a good marriage. She left.
Aravind sat for some more time. He had a mixed feeling. He was happy that the girl was getting married. At the same time he felt sad to miss her company. She was a nice girl. He slowly walked back home when it became dark.

They met day after. Nandini showed him the boy’s photograph. A handsome young man. Tall and well built with a broad smile. While he was looking at the photograph, Nandini told him about the boy’s qualification, service, family etc. and eagerly awaited his reaction. Aravind returned the photograph and said,
“A very good match Nandini. You are lucky.”
Nandini looked happy with his comments. Then said,
“Thank you sir. I value your comments most.”
Aravind wanted to know if the marriage date had been fixed.
“Yes sir, on fifteenth of this month. Another ten days. You will attend sir. Will you not? I personally invite you.”
Aravind was silent for a minute. Then said,
“See Nandini, I do not know any one except you in your family. You will be busy with the ceremonies and can not even introduce me to others. It would be very odd. Anyway thanks for the invitation. What time is the marriage?”
Nandini told the time.
“I shall bless you both at that time.”
Silently they sat for some more time. Then with a deep sigh Nandini got up ready to go.
“Sir, I am not supposed to go out till marriage. So we may not meet again. Sir, I shall miss you.” Her eyes were moist.
“Me too.” His voice was heavy.
Nandini started walking towards the exit gate. She looked back once and waved at him.
Aravind waved back and kept on looking, as long she was visible, then got up with a sigh and slowly walked back home. He had a peculiar feeling, as though some very near and dear one had departed forever.
He unlocked the main door and entered a lonely house.

Aravind had a strange feeling. He remembered to have similar emptiness when his mother died. But that was mother. Nandini was a young girl full of hopes and going to be happily married to a handsome young man. Soon she would forget the casual acquaintance. An elderly person whom she used to address ‘Sir’. Not very successfully, he tried to put her away from his thoughts.

Aravind continued to go to the park for jogging as usual. For first few days he occasionally thought of Nandini. On few occasions, he was startled when some girl would call someone ‘Sir’. Sometimes he would remember how much he enjoyed her company. They had common interests in literature and arts and discussed various subjects. Mentally they were matching well, though she was half his age, calling him ‘Sir’ and meeting for a short time every evening. The feelings reduced as days passed.

After about six months, one day Aravind went to the bank. While coming out he suddenly noticed Nandini at one counter. Pleasantly surprised he went near her and smilingly said,
“Good morning Nandini.”
Startled she turned to him and said,
“Good morning sir. Will you be going now? My work is over, I shall also come along.”
They came out and started walking on the footpath towards their apartments that were in the same area.
While walking side by side, Aravind tried to initiate some conversation, but Nandini responded only in monosyllables. Something was amiss. She was not the usual effervescent young girl. Perhaps she became reserved after marriage. But why should she look gloom and run down? Was she not happy? He was puzzled.
They reached Aravind’s apartment building and stopped.
“Here is my apartment. Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?” Aravind asked.
A moment’s hesitation then she nodded “Yes.”
Aravind unlocked the door and asked Nandini to come in and sit down. He went to kitchen to prepare coffee. She sat on the sofa and looked around. The apartment was fairly spacious and well furnished. But things were not arranged properly. Absence of a woman’s touch was evident.
“Should I come and help you sir?” Nandini called.
“Oh no, coffee is ready. I am bringing the cups.”
They silently sipped coffee. Aravind was watching her and she avoided his eyes.
She looked thinner and there were shadows under her eyes. She was unusually silent.
Definitely something was wrong. He was curious to know.
Coffee was finished in silence. Then a little hesitantly Aravind asked,
“Nandini, you look unhappy. Why? Are not the things all right with the marriage? Tell me Nandini. May be I shall be of some help.”
Head down Nandini was silent. When she looked up, her large eyes were filled with tear.
“No sir, no one can help me.” She started sobbing, teardrops rolling down her cheeks.
Aravind watched her silently, she avoiding his eyes. He made no attempts to console or even ask her the reason. He thought it would be better to let her cry. That way at least some of her accumulated sorrow will be washed away. She would be partly relieved.
After about five minutes Nandini wiped the tear and smiled at him. It was an embarrassed, sad and helpless smile.
Aravind watched her silently for few moments, then said,
“Unless it is an absolute secret, you can tell me now.”
After few moments of hesitation she came out with the happenings after marriage.

It seemed that despite his being handsome and otherwise healthy, the boy was incapable of performing as a man. He was a total zero. This defect was very much known to his parents and of course to himself. They consulted renowned medical experts on the subject and after conducting various tests and trials they all concluded that he could never be a man in the real sense. Marriage was meaningless for him.

“If that was the case then why did he get married?” Aravind was puzzled.
“His parents consulted their Gurudev (family priest/advisor), who advised to get the boy married. He predicted that everything would become normal then. So I was chosen to be the sacrificial animal and my life was ruined.” Nandini wiped her eyes. “My brother and sister-in-law had no inkling of the things.”
Silently they sat for sometime. Watching her sad tear filled eyes he could imagine the extreme mental torture she underwent on those miserable days.
“What happened then?”
“After a month I could tolerate it no more. My in-laws were not bad people otherwise and my supposed to be husband was a simple man. He once showed me the medical report in detail. Quietly and secretly I managed to get a copy of the report and then one fine morning I packed up my things and returned to my brother. My in-laws silently watched the departure and did not try to stop. Perhaps they were afraid of any publicity”
“Then what?”
“My brother and sister-in-law were furious on learning the things. I showed them the medical report also. My brother termed them ‘cheats’. Next morning he consulted an experienced advocate and filed a suit for concealment of facts and cheating. We asked for annulment of marriage.”
“Did they not contest?” Aravind asked.
“No sir. The medical report was proof enough. I was also clinically examined and confirmed to be a virgin. There was no contest at all. They avoided publicity. The matter was decided quickly.”
“In three months, I was declared a single woman. This is the story of my married life sir.” She smiled sadly.

Aravind was silent for sometime. Then asked,
“What will you do now. Have you decided?”
“I am trying for a Lecturer’s job. But my brother is asking me to re-marry.”
“Yes, why not. You can do both.”
“No sir once is enough. Who can guarantee that the next one will also not be same? One can not check these things before marriage. Can you!” She blushed and put her eyes down.
“True you can not, but such cases are very rare, once in few thousands. You need not be afraid Nandini.”
“No sir, I am really scared.” She glanced at the watch and got up. “I must go now.”
“OK. By the by, how far is your place?”
“Very near. Third apartment block down the road.”
“I see. Then drop in sometime. We shall have coffee together. How is your nephew?”
“He has been admitted in the Nursery. Almost every morning I take him there, and then purchase some vegetables or small provisions. Afternoon I go out again and bring him back from Nursery.” Nandini picked up a book by Ian Rand from the well-stocked bookshelf “May I borrow this book sir?”
“Oh sure. When will you come again Nandini?”
“Sir, would you mind if I come same time tomorrow morning? I am thoroughly bored alone in the house.”
“Mind! I shall be extremely glad. You are welcome everyday.” Aravind opened the door for her.

Nandini came next morning. She had a shy smile entering,
“Good morning sir. Today I shall prepare coffee. You don’t come to kitchen.”
Aravind smiled. She looked much fresh today. The sadness, the pathetic look, has vanished. She was almost her former self.
“All right, I shall only show you the things in the kitchen. It will then be easier for you.”

While sipping coffee they talked about books, films, TV serials and various other subjects. They laughed, mildly argued, expressed personal opinions, sometimes disagreed but mostly agreed. All through Aravind carefully avoided touching the topic of her marriage or future plans.
Time passed by silently. They were absorbed in talking. Then looking at the clock, Nandini jumped up.
“Sir, I shall make a move now.”
“Would you come tomorrow?” Aravind asked at the door.
Nandini looked at his eyes for two seconds, then moving a step nearer and as though consoling a small boy, she said softly,
“Yes sir, I shall.”
Nandini came next day. Then next and next. She was coming every morning except on Sundays. She would be in his apartment for about an hour. They would discuss various subjects and what not over a cup of coffee prepared by Nandini. Every morning Aravind would eagerly wait for her and feel bad when she left.
Sundays he felt dull and bored.

One day after coffee Nandini wanted to see the family photo album if he had any. Aravind took out two thick albums and gave her for viewing. He was in the opposite sofa. Nandini asked him to explain the photographs. Aravind went beside her and showed the photographs of his mother, brother, sister and their children. There were some snaps of his own school and college days with typical hair and dress styles of that time. Seeing a schooldays photograph of Aravind in shorts, Nandini started laughing.
“Sir, you look so funny. Were you really that young?”
“Yes, once upon a time I was.”
On another photograph when he was in college, she was admiringly looking at the photograph for a long time.
They sat very close. Her shoulder and thigh were pressed against his. Aravind could feel the warmth of her body through the dress. Occasionally in the fan breeze, her hair would fly over his face and he could get the wonderful feminine smell of her hair, her body and her breath. These were all new to him. Never before he had the chance to sit so close to a young, pretty girl.

“You were very handsome in your younger day’s sir.”
She looked full at him for a long time then added,
“Of course even today you are. Far better than many of the younger people.”
Aravind was pleased. He said,
“Thanks for the complements.”

Nandini continued to look at him and then asked,
“Do you not feel lonely sir, living all alone?”
“I used to. But it is alright now.”
“Why is it different now?” Nandini asked.
“Because of you Nandini. Every morning we spend some time together and that keeps me going for the rest of the day. Some nights I even dream of you.” Aravind was frank.
Nandini had a far away look then almost whispered,
“Why only for few hours sir? Can we not stay together for days, months and years?” She looked away and her lips were trembling.
“You may think badly of me, but I love you. I can not live without you.” Her voice broke.

Aravind could not speak for a long time. He had some kind of tender love, mixed with strong rousing passion, dormant for fifty-two years. He put one arm around her shoulder and said,
“Nandini you have told me exactly what I was trying to tell. For a long time I wanted to express my feelings to you. But thinking of the age difference and what you would think of me, I hesitated. Nandini you are exactly half my age. People would say that I am a cradle snatcher.”
Nandini leaned and put her head on his shoulder.
“Does it really matter sir?” She moved closer and put her face up.
Aravind was unable to control himself any more. He lightly kissed her forehead, soft cheeks, and the chin and then deeply kissed her grape soft red lips.
Eyes half-open and writhing Nandini bent backward. His strong hands moved over her soft young body.

Unable to wait any longer they stood up. Photo albums slid from her lap to the floor. Lips locked and embracing they walked to the bedroom. Aravind pulled the curtains down turning the room in semi darkness and holding each other they fell on the bed.
They forgot the world outside. It was only a man and woman, deeply immersed in the ultimate pleasure of life.

There was a momentary sharp cry of pain from Nandini and then the room was silent except for his rhythmic breathing and her incoherent soft moaning. The fan whirled above. About half an hour later satiated and exhausted they lay side by side.

Few minutes later, Nandini went to bathroom and put on her dress. She came near the bed and asked,
“Are you sleeping?”
“No,” then holding her hand he asked, “Are you alright Nandini?”
“Yes, I am perfectly alright,” then shyly added “I did not know that there is so much pleasure in pain.”
Aravind smiled and tenderly caressed her.
“I should go now.”
“Okay, you go to the front room, I shall be there in a minute.”
Aravind dressed up and coming near said,
“Must you go now?”
“Yes, it is already late.”
She opened the front door, and then turning said with a twinkle in eyes,
“Sir, this evening I am going to tell my brother.”
“Tell what?” Aravind was apprehensive.
“Tell him to arrange my marriage, I have found my life partner.”
Laughing she went out. Aravind stood speechless.

The Bloodline

2006-04-21T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short story by RANJIT SINHA ROY
(A view in orthodox Indian perspective)

It was early morning. The sun had just risen. Sunitadevi sat in the living room going through the newspaper. It was cold and she wrapped a shawl around. She felt happy. Her only son, Anil's marriage had more or less been fixed. Her efforts to select a suitable girl for him paid result. Last month, for ten days, she had been to her hometown screening about half a dozen prospective brides and finally decided on the one she liked most. Neither Anil nor her husband could come along. Their business would suffer; they left it entirely to her. Sunitadevi brought back the details and photographs of all girls and showed them to her husband and son. Luckily for her, they liked the girl she had selected and it was decided that after a few days, both father and son would go for final selection and negotiations.

Theirs was a business community. They owned a large electrical and electronic appliances shop. Twenty years back, her husband Shyamsundar Gupta, popularly known as Guptaji (Gupta Sir), started a small electrical goods shop. By sheer sweat and struggle, he transformed it into one of the largest in town. The shop was about two kilometers from the house.

Every morning, before the sun rose, Guptaji would walk to the Ram temple, about a kilometer down the road. Returning after an hour he would take bath, perform puja, and go through the business page. He was not interested in other items of news, unless it was of great importance, like budget discussion in parliament.

Meantime, Anil would return from the Gym, after daily push-ups and body building exercises. He was about twenty-six with a well-built structure. He would also take bath after a little rest, have breakfast and then go through the sports page. He was not interested in other areas. Anil was a qualified electrical engineer. Though from an obscure, third rate college, the certificate helped them to get projects approved and bank loans sanctioned.

Around, nine thirty, father and son would leave for shop by car. Exactly at noon Guptaji would come first and return to shop after lunch. Then Anil would come for lunch, be in the house for about one hour and then go back. Either father or son would always be in the shop. Though sincere and trustworthy, normally they would not leave the shop to assistants. They had one car with driver to shuttle between office and shop and for other purposes. The driver was young and good at driving. Though very simple and a little dull, he was sincere and seldom he was absent or late. Every morning, he would come exactly at nine, take the keys, clean the car and be ready to go. Unless asked, he would not unnecessarily come up to the apartment. They all liked Suresh. That was his name.

Then there was Basanti, favorite of all. Eight years ago, when Sunita Devi asked for a helping hand, a distant uncle of hers, who worked in the shop, brought Basanti. She was twelve then and without parents. Uncle had since left, and Basanti did not know anyone else. With no place to go, she permanently stayed along with them. As days passed, Sunitadevi became increasingly dependent on her.

Basanti did the cooking, serving food, ironing clothes, making beds, even combing Sunitadevi’s hair and looking after needs of each. In fact she became the sole caretaker of the house. Everyone depended on her.

Now, Basanti had grown up to be a young girl of twenty. She was of medium height, with moderate complexion and a sweet round face. She was attractive in a simple rustic way.

Now, Sunitadevi was reading the newspaper and Basanti as usual was busy preparing breakfast in kitchen. Sunitadevi could see her from where she sat. Basanti was frying something in a pan.

Then suddenly putting off the stove and putting the dupatta (scarf) end on her mouth Basanti rushed to bathroom. Wondering what could have happened, Sunitadevi followed after a minute. The bathroom door was open and Basanti leaning on the washbasin was trying to vomit. Sunitadevi was genuinely concerned. Why was she having nausea? Did she have stomach upset or had fever last night? Sunitadevi asked,
"What happened Basanti? Are you alright?"

Basanti turned around with fear in eyes. She stared at for few seconds, and then started crying. Instantly Sunitadevi knew what it was and her heart skipped a beat. She hissed,

"Who was it? Last month, I was not here just for ten days and you did all dirty things. Stupid, idiot girl! Now what will happen? Tell me who was it. Was it Suresh, our driver? Who else could it be?”

Basanti shook her head.
"No, no Maaji, it was not Suresh. He does not even come up, except taking the car keys from Anilji in the morning. No, it was not he." Basanti sounded honest.

"Then who was it? You should know."

"No, really I do not know." She started to sob.

Doorbell rang. Guptaji must have come back. In a few minutes Anil would also return.

Sunitadevi said,
"Alright, we shall talk about it after they leave. Now you wash your face and eyes and go to kitchen. Today, I shall serve breakfast. You do not come to the table."
Basanti nodded.

Sunitadevi opened the door. Both father and son had returned. Guptaji looked surprised. He asked,
"Why you? Where is Basanti?"

"In the kitchen." Sunitadevi replied " She is late preparing breakfast today."

At nine thirty father and son left for the shop. Then only Sunitadevi and Basanti were alone in the house.

Sunitadevi sat in the sofa and called Basanti. Head bent she came and stood in front.
"Now you tell me, who was it and how it happened."

"I do not know Maaji (Madam). It could be any one."

Sunitadevi could not control herself any more. She got up, gave her a hard slap and hissed,
"What do you mean by 'any one', do you not know the name?"
Suddenly something crossed her mind,
"Was it Anil?" She whispered.

"It could be any of them." Basanti was looking at the floor.

"Any of them!" Now Sunitadevi was genuinely afraid to ask.
"It must be Guptaji then! Was he the other?"

"Yes" Basanti nodded.
She narrated that, last month when Sunitadevi was away for ten days, on the first day after lunch, Guptaji as usual was taking rest in bedroom. He called Basanti for a glass of water and she went in. He put the glass on side table and pulled her to bed and made her lie down. She was much afraid and did not know what to do. Guptaji was head of the family and Basanti knew only to obey him. She surrendered without any resistance. It was quick and over in few minutes. Guptaji dressed up and left for the shop.

After nearly half an hour Anil came home. He had lunch and when Basanti was clearing the table, he quietly held her tight from behind and turning around kissed and caressed allover. It was different from Guptaji's. They walked to his room and were in bed till Anil was fully satisfied.

Everyday, for ten days, except on one Sunday, she succumbed to demands of both father and son, without one knowing of the other.

Basanti was ignorant of taking precautions. She was not aware of any and the males could not care less. Sunitadevi never thought it necessary to teach her about these things. And Basanti had no close friend from whom she could learn.

Dumbfound Sunitadevi stared at her. She was perplexed and confused and went on looking at Basanti, particularly at her mid-portion. What was in the womb, she wondered? Her stepson or grand son? No one could tell. Whatever it was, she had to do something about it, and soon.

Head down, Basanti stood for some time, then asked,
"May I go now Maaji?"

"Yes, you can go."

Sunita Devi sat for long and went on thinking. To be very honest, it was not Basanti’s fault. For years she was used to obeying orders. She did not know to refuse. Moreover, she was young, subconsciously longing for something, which she herself did not know. She succumbed without resistance at the slightest provocation. Only, she did not take any precaution, because she was unaware of any.

Sunitadevi knew that she herself was to be blamed. She should not have left her alone with two male members, whoever they might be. Men were men only. Young or old, one should never trust them.

Sunitadevi could not blame Guptaji either. For few years she was sleeping separately and would not allow Guptaji to touch her. She argued that having a marriageable son they should desist from all physical matters. Guptaji did not insist.

As for Anil, could any young man control himself when a young healthy girl was moving around so close and that also when they were alone in the house? Why blame Anil? Would any young man miss the opportunity?

It was only Sunitadevi, who was to be blamed for whatever happened and now she alone had to find a way out.

For the entire afternoon and evening she thought and thought. She did not even watch TV, her favorite pastime. She instructed Basanti on what to prepare for dinner. Then by nine o'clock she had a glass of milk and went to bed. Guptaji and Anil would return at ten after closing the shop. She asked Basanti to serve them dinner and tell them that she had a headache and was asleep.

In the morning Sunitadevi got up at the usual time. Like on other days Guptaji and Anil had gone out for walk and gym. They came back and enquired about her headache.

She said it was all right and asked for the car around ten o'clock. She had some shopping to do.

Exactly at ten, Suresh came with the car.

Sunitadevi went out asking Basanti to bolt the entrance door.

When at a comparatively less crowded stretch of road, Sunitadevi asked Suresh to park the car on the side. After parking, when Suresh was about to get down and wait outside - that was normally expected of drivers - Sunitadevi asked him to stay inside.

After few seconds she asked Suresh if he ever thought of getting married. Shyly he replied that he would like to, but since his parents were no more, who would try for him.

Sunitadevi said, if it were so, she herself would try to get a good match for him. After a pause she asked,
"How about Basanti. She is of your caste. Do you like her?"

Suresh could not believe what he heard. Surprised he said,
"Basanti! Why should she marry me, an ordinary driver! I am no match for her Maaji. Staying with you, she is now used to live in a spacious house, having good food and nice dresses. I cannot provide even a part of it. No Maaji, she will not agree."

Sunitadevi could make out that Suresh was very happy with the proposal, but apprehensive of Basanti not agreeing. She said,
"Look Suresh, Basanti is now of a marriageable age. Having been with us for so many years, she is now like a member of the family. Since, like you, she also does not have parents or any one, it is our responsibility to see that she is given for marriage to a suitable boy who would make her happy. I thought about you and am sure that you two will make a good match."

"But Maaji, Basanti may not agree." Suresh sounded doubtful.

"You don't worry. Leave it to me. I am more than sure that Basanti will gladly agree. Now be prepared to get married immediately after Anilji's is over and do not worry about expenses. We shall bear everything. After all Basanti is like our daughter. Okay, it is settled now, let us go."

Suresh could not believe his luck. Basanti would be his wife! He was floating in clouds.

Returning home, Sunitadevi called a Maternity Nursing Home. She fixed an appointment at eleven o'clock on Monday.

At night in the dinner table she asked both Anil and Guptaji as to why they were delaying negotiation and finalise the marriage date. Now it being almost month end, sales would
be low and this was the time when they could go. Why not start next Sunday and return by Saturday. Father and son agreed.

Next day Sunitadevi told Basanti of her conversation with Suresh and that he happily accepted the proposal. Now it was for Basanti to agree. Did she accept or not.
Basanti lowered her eyes and said,

"Yes, whatever you say Maaji." She looked up smiling and hurriedly walked away.

Sunday morning both father and son left. Sunitadevi said she did not need the car. Suresh was asked to report for duty on Saturday only.

Monday at eleven o'clock Sunitadevi took Basanti to the Nursing Home in a taxi. She told the doctor that it was a suspected case of unwanted pregnancy and if confirmed it had to be terminated.

Doctor examined, confirmed pregnancy and said it being only one and half months old, could be easily aborted. However, someone was to sign an undertaking. Sunitadevi said she would do that.

It was decided that next day Basanti would be admitted to the nursing home and after everything over could be released the following day. Though it was a simple case and she could go home the same day, still they would prefer to keep her under observation for one more day. Sunitadevi agreed.

Basanti was silent on way back. Sunitadevi thought she was afraid and assured her it would be painless and over in few minutes. There was nothing to worry. Even then she was silent.

Reaching home, Basanti said,
"Maaji, is it really necessary? Can I not keep the child? Suresh is a simple man, he will not suspect any." She looked anxious.

Sunitadevi was annoyed. She said in a stern voice,
"Look Basanti, You may be carrying the child, but in reality it belongs to the respectable Gupta family. I cannot allow a child with our blood to grow up as yours. No Basanti, definitely not. We have every right to do whatever we want and don't you be foolishly sentimental. It is for your good only. You will do whatever I ask."

Basanti silently stood for some time then with tear in eyes went to her room.

Next day Basanti packed few essential things in a small bag and went to the nursing home. She was silent all the way and looked sad.

They sat in doctor's chamber and Sunitadevi completed the formalities. Doctor then called a nurse and asked her to take Basanti to the allotted bed.

Basanti looked at Sunitadevi, her eyes begging for the last time. Consoling, Sunitadevi put a hand on her back and asked not to worry. People here would take care and everything would be all right. She would come next morning and take her home.

Sunitadevi was happy. She did not allow the respectable Gupta family Bloodline to be polluted.

Basanti got up and with tear in eyes followed the nurse.

She was not afraid. She wept for the unborn child.

Guilty Conscience

2006-04-16T12:21:00.000-04:00

Short story by VictorM

(Author’s note: The following is a movie treatment. For those not familiar with the term, a movie treatment is a synopsis of a movie script, without the dialogue, camera angles, and other technical details. It’s usually done for the benefit of producers to give them, in a page or two, a general idea of the plot line. This particular treatment is for a short film.)

[OUTSIDE THE HOUSE, AT NIGHT]

We see the house from outside, the bedroom light going out and the usual sounds of a quiet night are heard. The camera moves in as if it was a person moving.

[BEDROOM]

A middle age couple is getting ready to go to bed. Their actions denote they hardly pay any attention to each other. Life together is just a routine.

They lay in bed, each at their end of the king size bed, as far apart from each other as they can be.

The husband is almost asleep and the wife hears a noise. She calls the husband who reacts as if this is common. He tells her it’s just the cat, go to sleep.

[KITCHEN AND STAIRS]

The camera makes it’s way up the stairs as if someone is walking up.

[BEDROOM]

Past the bedroom door, we see that a man dressed all in black enters the bedroom and approaches the wife. Slowly he reaches for her neck and begins to squeeze it. She opens her eyes and has problems breathing. The man in black tells her that she has to confess to her husband about the affair they had.

Sounding frantic, she wakes her husband up and with the man in black behind her (but seemingly invisible to the husband), she tells him about an affair she had and can’t live with herself anymore.

The husband becomes irate, calls her names, and storms out of the bedroom.

A close up shows a female removing the belt from the man’s pants that are lying on a chair.

[STAIRS]

The camera walks down following a pair of hands wrapping the belt once around a woman’s hands.

[STAIRS and KITCHEN]

The husband is sitting at the kitchen table drinking water. The woman comes from behind him and wraps the belt around his neck, choking him. As he has trouble breathing, the camera follows his eyes to reveal a younger woman, not the wife. She starts telling him what a hypocrite he is for not telling his wife about their affair.

[BEDROOM]

Husband walks in followed by the woman in black and confesses his affair to the wife. They both sit quietly on the edge of their side of the bed. Short dialogue shows they recognize they are wasting their lives and that the mistakes of the past shouldn’t ruin anymore of their future.

Both lay in bed staring at the ceiling, this time their bodies a little closer in bed than in the opening scene. The man and the woman in black both sit at the foot of the bed, neither having the energy that had in the beginning. The husband and wife’s hands slowly reach for each other and tenderly touch. With that, the man and woman in black fade and disappear from the scene (if that’s technically possible) or they can just get up and walk out of the room.

[OUTSIDE THE HOUSE, AT NIGHT]

A shot from outside the house shows the bedroom light going out and the usual sounds of a quiet night are heard.

California Speeding

2006-04-10T00:01:00.000-04:00

Short story by VictorM

“I was coming from Yosemite Park, driving thought the winding roads of the California country roads, enjoying the sunny day and the mellow music when all of a sudden this female, frantically waving her arms jumped on to the road right in front of me. I had to swerve dangerously to avoid hitting her and managed to get around her. My heart was pounding as I looked in the rear view mirror and saw she was running in my direction, screaming at me to stop.

I was about to step on the gas pedal and drive away from this crazy nut when I noticed two big men chasing her. Seeing them closing in on her, her screams pleading for help became even louder. I hit the breaks and reached over to open the passenger door. She very quickly jumped in and screamed, “Go! Go!” I started driving away while watching the two men wave their fists in anger and then turn around and head back.

I finally calmed down enough to take a good look at the woman. She was in her mid-twenties, a stunning woman. She had a skimpy outfit, very low cut, revealing a well-endowed chest. She looked like a Playboy centerfold.

She proceeded to tell me she was very grateful for me stopping and she would do anything to show her appreciation. She leaned a bit closer. I could smell her delicious scent and see quite a bit of her chest and legs. Slightly tan, long blonde hair, and shaped like a love goddess, she was the stereotypical California girl.

She started telling me that she had been at a party, stayed overnight, and once all her friends left these two men started getting a bit rough with her. Being in the middle of farms, screaming did her no good, so she hit one of them and ran onto the street. Luckily, she said, I came along and saved her life.

Just as she started running her soft hands on my shoulder, I looked in the rear view mirror and could see the two men riding Harleys, carrying baseball bats, looking very menacing. I shouted, “Oh, shit” and she looked back and saw them too. Screaming in fear, she pleaded for me to speed away. I hesitated knowing the speed limit was 55 miles an hour, but she leaned in and placed her foot on top of mine, pressing the gas pedal down. The car took off at a dangerous speed.

And that, officer, is why I was speeding.”

The cop bent down and looked at my empty passenger seat. He handed me a speeding ticket.

One thing I hate about cops – they have no imagination.

As the cop walked back to his car, I closed my window and asked her, “So, what’s your name?” as my car pulled away.

On Slippery Grounds

2006-03-31T00:01:00.000-05:00

Short story by RANJIT SINHA ROY

Stuti casually looked up from papers and saw the man pushing open the main entrance door and coming to office hall. She could not believe her eyes. But in a second she was sure. It was the same tall, well-built, neatly dressed man, with a charming smile, now talking to the receptionist. The girl directed him to the Manager’s cubicle. Before proceeding, he looked around and their eyes met. She prayed, he would not be able to recognize her. Two years was a long time. Moreover, they met only for a short time and the lights were dim. Despite her efforts, Stuti was unable to shift her gaze and probably that only gave her away. A brief hesitation and he recognized her. He smiled, gave a short nod and went to the Manager’s cubicle. Stuti knew, next he would come to her. She was trapped. There was no escape.

Her heart was pounding fast. Hands shaking and knees trembling, the monitor looked hazy and head seemed blank. Afraid, she thought of going out of the office. But then she was to go to Manager’s office for permission. It was impossible. That man was sitting there. Stuti did not know what to do.

It was two years since she met this man. Final semester exams were over and in a week’s time all the postgraduate students of her batch would leave the institute forever.

It was a silent evening and not dark yet. Stuti was flipping through the pages of a women’s magazine and felt extremely bored. Rajni, her roommate for two years was reading a novel. Once a while she glanced at Stuti, but said nothing. Perhaps she was also bored. After a while Rajni put the book down and asked Stuti, if she had anything to do in the evening. When Stuti said she was free, Rajni suggested she come along with her. She had a friend to meet and there was no point sitting alone in the hostel. Stuti readily agreed.

Rajni took her to a star hotel. Stuti had never been to that place. Things seemed strange. Rajni said that her friend had checked in there. She seemed to be quite familiar with the place and the person in the Reception counter gave her a knowing smile. She asked him something, and was given a number. They went up the elevator to fourth floor and Rajni knocked on a door. One casually dressed man in his forties opened and that was when she saw him first. Stuti was surprised. She expected Rajni’s friend to be much younger.

He gave a broad, welcome smile and called them in. Rajni introduced Stuti and they all sat down. He was tall and handsome and had a pleasant way of talking. Despite the age difference, he talked to the girls as though they were equals.

He spoke on various subjects, from latest hit films to present pop musical favorites. In a short time they became so free and frank that Stuti felt she knew him for a long time. They were laughing; joking and talking like old friends. She enjoyed his company.

He asked Stuti about her studies, her liking and disliking and who were her favorite authors. He told about himself also. That he was a confirmed bachelor and did not believe in bonded life. He was happy this way. He very much liked company of young, intelligent and beautiful girls, someone like Stuti. She blushed, but inwardly relished the compliment.

Rajni pretended to be jealous, and with fake anger softly hit him with a rolled newspaper. She said that now he preferred Stuti and forgotten her. He laughed and told that Rajni was his old flame and would forever remain the most favorite. They all had a hearty laugh and Stuti started admiring the man. He was really a very charming person. Men should be like him and not the prankish youngsters she saw every day in the university. He was mature and sounded so manly with deep resonant voice.

With polite permission he ordered one beer bottle for himself and cool drinks with some snacks for the girls. They were having a nice time when the phone rang.

He took the call, listened for a while and told Rajni that someone in the lounge was waiting for her. Rajni got up and asked Stuti to wait. She would be back soon.

This gentleman was so polite and well behaved. Stuti did not consider it abnormal to be all-alone in a hotel room with a person whom she met only a short time before. She trusted him.

They talked this and that for sometime. Then as though curious, he asked, if she had any boyfriend. He was surprised when told that there was none. As if joking, he said in that case he could be the one.

She did not know what came to her. She responded in the same tone and said laughing,
"Yes, why not", and blushed pink.

After few moments of silence he moved to the sofa, sat beside and put one arm around her shoulder. He lovingly and tenderly first kissed the lips, then deep on the mouth and slowly started caressing all over. He bolted the door and carried her to the bed. Stuti knew what was going to happen, but did not resist.

He was gentle and considerate. He could make out that she was completely inexperienced and tried to make it less painful for her. He took care that she would not feel uncomfortable. Initially her body was rigid and limp, but then responded surprisingly against her wish.

The act over, she covered herself with a bed sheet, gathered clothes, went to bathroom and wept. She felt she had lost something precious, carefully preserved for years. After sometime she stopped crying, had a wash and tried to clean herself as much as she could. She felt immensely guilty and hated herself. She felt dirty. Quietly she dressed, came out to the room. Fully satisfied he was lying on the bed. She heard him murmuring that virgins were rare and would like to have her once again. Without glancing at him she went down.

She went to the lounge and found Rajni waiting. Stuti suspected the whole thing was pre-arranged and Rajni was a key player. She left the hotel alone without asking Rajni and never talked to her till she left. After three days she vacated the hostel forever and went to her place. She did not meet Rajni again. Later she came to know that she got married and permanently settled in Canada.

For quite sometime, she was not able to make out what had come to her and how she could so shamelessly surrender to a total stranger. Probably it was the cool air-conditioned comfort or the décor of the room or the soothing dim lights or was charmed by his good looks and soft gentle voice or she was curious or may be a combination of all. She did not know how it could happen. She never mentioned it to anyone and kept it within herself as a guarded secret. Slowly, over two years she almost forgot the incident like a bad dream.

Campus selections were over. She got offer for a middle management position in a non-banking finance company. After a year she married Vikash. It was an arranged marriage and she was thankful to her parents for selecting such a wonderful husband. They fell in love at the very first sight and till now it was the same. By look and nature they seemed to be made for each other. Tomorrow it would be the first marriage anniversary and they were looking forward to this day of all days.

The office had low partitions and one could not see others when seated. There was no separate chamber even for senior executives. Decoration and set-up were most modern and the environment excellent.

Now that the man had finished discussion with the Manager. He stood up and looked around after the customary handshake.

Despite best efforts Stuti could not avoid looking at him. He smiled and came straight to her table and without permission sat on the chair opposite.
“Good morning. How are you?" She did not respond and looked at the papers on the table.

“So you are angry with me and won’t talk. Did I do any harm to you young lady? I do not think so. I was very considerate. You know that well. Though initially it was a little painful, I think you ultimately enjoyed the act. Frankly speaking, I never imagined a beautiful young girl like you could really remain virgin. Normally it does not happen. First I thought you were pretending, but then I could make out that you were genuinely untouched. It was a novel experience, my dear. Very, very, rarely I come across girls like you. You were an exception.”

Stuti remained silent, afraid that others may hear. But the man was careful and talked in a low voice. He waited for her to talk. But when there was no response, he smiled and said,
“My dear young lady, I want to have your wonderful company once again. Recently I have been posted in this town as the Branch Manager of my company. I have an apartment. It is cozy and comfortable. You would like it. I won’t take much of your time. Just an hour or two.”

He paused a moment, then with little surprise said,
“I see, you are married now! That’s why you are so hesitant. Don’t be afraid my dear. Unfortunately I have an engagement tonight. So tomorrow evening around six, I shall pick you up and we shall have a wonderful time together. Now that you are married and experienced, you can teach me few new techniques. As for being late, you can inform your husband that you have some pending work to finish and it may take an hour or two more. So, Madam, it is all settled.”

He looked at her keenly, then slowly added,
"By the by, if by any chance you prefer to be absent tomorrow, I may drop in to your place in the evening. In that case I can meet your husband too and discuss the black mole you have on your left inner thigh. It will not be difficult for me to get your address. So, may I take your leave now my dear? Shall see you tomorrow.”

He got up, gave a twisted, meaningful smile and went out. Stuti could see him through the glass door, walking to his car parked across the road and drive away.

Everything looked hazy and blurred. People talking in the office sounded like a distant
noise. Despite air-conditioning she was sweating. Cold sweat flowed down her
spine. She felt helpless and did not know what to do.

She went to Ladies’ Room and splashed her face with cold water. Waited till calmed down a little and then came back to her seat. She took a glass of water and felt better. Trying to forget the whole episode, she went through the papers and by afternoon she was composed to some extent. But the thought and fear never left her. She tried to find a way out, but there was none. She felt weak, feverish and cold.

Evening she came home at usual hour and Vikash returned shortly after. They had tea together and discussed next day’s program. Vikash was very enthusiastic about his plans. Stuti also took part, but inwardly she was tense and worried. Sometime she would look blank and absent minded. Several times Vikash asked if she was listening. When she said, yes she was, Vikash asked if she was all right, did anything happen in the office. She felt sad for him. Poor boy. Suddenly she had a strong surge of love for him. She put arms around his neck and said,
“Vikash, tell me, you will never leave me. Never, never. Please hold me tight and say you love me.”

Vikash did as she said, but was surprised at her sudden emotion. Stuti put her head on his shoulder and started crying. Vikash could not understand why she should turn so emotional. He allowed her to silently cry for sometime. Then asked,
“Stuti, are you alright? Tell me if you are sick or anything wrong. Did I say something, which has hurt you? For quite sometime I felt you are not within yourself. Something was biting you. Tell me what it is.”

Stuti calmed herself. She felt much better now. Somehow she felt assured in his tight embrace. She raised her head and smiled through tears. “No Vikash, nothing wrong. Will you love me forever whatever may come".
Vikash smiled tenderly. His heart melted for her. He nodded looking at her tear filled eyes.

It was decided that tomorrow around six in the evening Vikash would come to her office and take her home. After a wash and dressing up they would first go to a ballet - a German group - now performing in the city. Though difficult to get seats, Vikash had managed two in the third row. After that they will go to an exclusive restaurant and have candlelight dinner. On request, they play special anniversary music, with musicians standing around the table. Vikash did not tell her about it. He kept it, as a surprise item. He knew, how happy she would be. Then they would exchange secretly purchased gifts, over a glass of Italian wine. It will be a ceremony exclusive to them. No friends, no guests, no fanfare. Only Vikash and Stuti

After dinner they went to bed. Vikash talked for few minutes and then was fast asleep. Stuti remained awake for a long time apprehensive of what awaited her tomorrow. Much later, she had a disturbed sleep, waking up frequently, with a dry throat. Perhaps this was their last night together. She was afraid, very afraid.

Next morning Vikash dropped her in the office and drove away asking her to be ready by six. Office was in ground floor with three wide black marble steps leading to the thick plate- glass entrance. Stuti went to her table and sat looking straight at the door opposite as though she expected that man to enter any time. Then she realised that it was only ten in the morning and there were full eight hours for him to step in.

She tried to concentrate in her work. There was lot of pending papers she could not clear the previous day. She tried to brush aside all other thoughts and concentrate only on the pending papers. Before lunch break she completed the work.

Things were not same after lunch. Every now and then she looked at the watch. Time seemed to move very slowly. By five she was restless and by quarter to six her heart was thumping again. She started to sweat and everything looked hazy. She went to Ladies’ Room once, took a full glass of water and kept staring at the entrance.

It was exactly six when she saw the man getting down from the car parked on other side of the road. He was locking the door when Vikash also parked his in the office parking lot. Stuti saw the man crossing the road and Vikash coming up the steps.

Vikash was pushing the glass door open, when there was a sharp screeching sound and a heavy thud on the road. Traffic halted and people rushed to the spot where a man lay sprawled under a car.

Stuti knew who he was. She also knew that the man was dead. Stuti put her head down on both palms, with elbows on the table. She started to weep. She did not know that relief could also make one cry.

Vikash turned back from the door, rushed with others to the accident spot and came back in few minutes. He went to Stuti’s table and found her sobbing. He said,

“Why are you crying Stuti? It happens everyday. So many people die in road accidents. Can we cry for all of them? Moreover we do not know who the man was. A total stranger. No doubt it was a sad thing, but what to do. Poor fellow, meeting an end like this. Come on let’s go now. Wipe your eyes."

Meanwhile, police and ambulance had come. They covered the body with a white sheet and lifted it to the ambulance van. Stuti said she would go only after everything was cleared.

Shortly the police jeep and ambulance van left. The crowd dispersed and traffic resumed. It seemed as though nothing had happened and life moved on as usual. Everything was normal, except for some dark stains on the road. They came out and she carefully avoided looking at that spot.

On way home, Vikash drove with Stuti sitting beside. Suddenly she started to laugh. She tried to control herself by putting her palm on the mouth, but could not stop. She bent forward and laughed and laughed. Surprised Vikash asked,
“Few minutes back you were crying. Now you are laughing so much. What is the matter?”
She laughed for some more time and then straightend up. Now there was only a broad smile.
“Nothing Vikash, I laughed because we are alive in this beautiful world. You and I. Life is so wonderful. Let us enjoy it as long as we live. Vikash today is our first anniversary. I shall remember this day forever.”

It was slowly getting dark. At that moment the streetlights came up and it was bright all around. Silently they drove back home. Both were smiling. It was their first wedding anniversary.

Anniversary

2006-03-23T00:15:00.000-05:00

Short story by Johnston Becker

As I stepped out into the cobblestone street, to lock my shop. Once again realized, I was leaving my sanctuary of peace and solitude. Oh! The
Blissful simplicity of work. Which held the fraternization of those who actually cared about my well being. Even some to whom, I would disclose
My dreams of writing,
Yes, late though I may be as usual. I was dreading the return home from my day of serenity. My wife, whom I had married three months prior to this entry, was fastly becoming a poisonous thorn in my side. (For the lack of a better word). Her constant bickering and foul moodiness has made me conspire to dreams, of being single once again. Oh! The tortuous pain!
Walking through the door to our humble abode. That of which, I
Had worked the greater part of my life away to achieve. She at once began her grumbling. A writer scoff! You couldn’t pen your own name properly
Ha! Ha! Her sarcasm befouled my soul; my blood pressure began to rise,
My eyes went gray and somber. My heart began to beat cold as frost.

As she laid our subtle dinner of vegetable stew upon the table. I
Looked at her with the eyes of hatred, but the only thing my mind could say was yes of course my love. My weakness, ungratifying to myself, I cursed my calmness, my eagerness to please and my low self-esteem.

Turning to my food so as not to meet her glare. I found its flavor as dreadful as her gorgon like company. I spoke with quaint mannerism, beseeched only by those brought in a moralistic family.” My dear have we no salt?”

The heathen became wrenched with fury. Shivers ran up my spine. Fear bequeathed my entire being. Her words were as cold as a rainy night. They bemired my entire being. “How! Could we afford such things?” You work sixteen hours a day and still we haven’t a pence. You broke miserable rodent of a man. I should never have married you.

As my irreverent eyes, looked into her voodoo cursed soul
I perceived such hatred. That I was instantly calmed. I spoke in calculating manner. My budding flower, do not speak such atrocities. Her reply threw me into an instant frenzy. She said, “The truth is no atrocity”. Quickly, I stood and glared at her, and spoke in harshness. If your food were not so lousy, It’s probable that I could work longer to afford you better. I turned and walked quickly towards the bedroom and spoke ferociously. I’m tired I shall retire for the evening. Thank you for the lovely dinner.

As I lay awake in bed. I soon realized sleep would never be forth coming. Soon I began to devise a plan to see my way out of this capricious life. Which I had blindly inherited, Not long after the malevolent creature of my nightmares stumbled awkwardly into our bedroom. She fell upon the bed looked at me with maliciousness, closed her eyes and began to snore. A deep loud echoing noise that could tame a wild beast. My heart froze. How could I live with this monster, this godless wretch!

My plan began to simmer more wildly. It felt as though, it were the only clear thought, I’ve had in a few fortnight. As I sat up to look at the clock it struck the witching hour. It was as if the clock had instructed my sub-conscious to go forth with my plan.

I quickly stood up grasped the nearest pillow. Pressing it over the knaves’ face. The harder I pressed the more the monster fought. My strength not what it once was, it began to give. Suddenly as if struck by some outside force. The witches resolve began to give. I leaned down towards her ear and spoke. What bitter words have you, for me now, may you forever choke on them? Finally she went into her final death throws and her clenched fingers upon my arms began to free. The fight was over. Peace was mine, finally mine. Before I begin to enjoy the accomplishments of this night. Thought I to myself, I must discard the body.

Then I looked upon, the whitening corpse. Shame began to fill my soul, A bitter feeling of emptiness, loneliness clutched my emotions. She seemed so very peaceful as if she were smiling. I began to remember, the first day I laid eyes upon her. I was walking up the muddied streets, towards the general store. Thinking to myself when will this miserable rain cease. I lifted my eyes and before me stood. The most beautiful angel, the lords’ creativity had ever devised.
She was of medium height, with a small frame. Her skin looked as soft as a doves’ feathers. Her lips perfect caricatures of voluptuous shape. Her face forged in the fires of Hesphaestion. Her eyes light green as if Hera herself had seen through them. My heart began to pulsate, my mind flooded with thoughts of her.

Suddenly I awoke from my dream like state. Fastly I began preparing the body for a proper burial. I grabbed an empty flour sack from the storage cellar and wrapped the body in it. The struggle dragging the corpse into the yard was horrible. The New England winter was dawning and soon the ground would be frozen. I began digging vehemently. I said a few words over the peaceful mass. Then began throwing the earth upon the flour sack. Soon after terribly fatigued, I went into the bedroom washed up vigorously and slipped into bed. Not to awake until sometime later the next day,
When I did awake, a certain calmness had mesmerized my spirits. At once, I threw off the covers and sprung from my bed. Thinking to myself now, it is time to begin. Grabbing my Quill pen and ink, I began to pen what at the time, I thought a considerable work. Of adventure and mayhem upon the high seas,
Time went by so quickly, it was as if the sun never rose. All the while I wrote, wrote and wrote. Almost a calendar had passed, before the work was completed. All the while strange occurrences had been happening. Things had certainly gone awry. Often I awoke day after day to find my quill pen and ink missing. Or put in a spot where I hadn’t left them. Bereavement of my mind began to show.

One particular occasion, I remember well. I had gone out into the storage cellar, to grab a jar of peaches. My late wife had bottled before the winter. Only to find myself locked tight into the six by six hole in the ground. Fear went pealing through my being, like a church bell warning the services. Soon my candle went numb, and I shook the door with the might of Hercules. Although much to my chagrin it would not budge. Suddenly as strangely as it had closed the door flew open. As if some supernatural strength were behind it, I was frozen with fear. My legs gelatin at this very moment could barely carry me. Somehow though praise be to the Lord I climbed out. I searched about but could find nothing to merit the strange circumstances.

Autumn was turning the leaves the beautiful colors that befall the season. So I figured before winter sets in. I should take a cart to town and pick up a few provisions. I went into my study compiled the pages of my pride filled work. Put them in order on my desk and continued towards town. After purchasing the much needed provisions. I put them in my cart and continued homeward without another stop.

I immediately put the provisions into the storage cellar, and ran with the wind at my back to my study. Entering the study with only the thoughts of one last proof read on my mind. I found the manuscript was missing GONE! I screamed in agony. My mind slipped away. I started over turning everything in sight. Searching every inch of my home to no avail. The disaster was everywhere; the rancid mess of books, tables, plates, clothing and paperwork was sickening. Still I had not found the manuscript
My tantrum subsiding, Rain pounded the rooftop in nonstop monotone. Drumming my fears away I decided to bathe, and relax to reacquire my proper thought pattern. I lay in the tub, my eyes closed, candles burning. While relaxation worked its’ way into my tired bones. I looked up upon the shelf and there before my very eyes. My manuscript, On top of the manuscript MY LATE WIFES’ WEDDING RING.

I expunged quickly from the miserable warm water. Only to hear a strange incoherent rustling, no, no a voice! I listened harder begging for the words to ring clear and they did. Very clear, “NOW YOU’LL NEVER BE RID OF ME “, spoken with spooky reverence. I went white my heart began to beat so fast, so furious it was uncontrollable. I clutched repeatedly at my chest it would not cease! My Adam’s’ apple began to expand and my breathing became tight and drawn. My muscles quickly weakened, my legs could no longer hold me and I fell to the floor with a terrifying THUD!

Slowly turning still clutching my chest. I looked up and there before my very eyes stood my wives apparition. Yes there she stood bitter as ever, with a condescending smile upon her face. The wretch, My mind, my heart, my spirits, my soul all relinquished at once. My body was thrown into the night and became a shining star of molecular, gastric structure.
The cold eyes still shining their beaming light of hatred at me. While the last thought that crossed my mind. While looking into the cold hard stare of my wives horrid apparition. Was that; this day, this day was OUR ANNIVERSARY!

Immaculate

2006-03-14T15:19:00.000-05:00

Short Story by:RANJIT SINHA ROY

The sun had already set and daylight was fading fast. The bus reached late by more than an hour and the ferry boat, after waiting for long, had finally left. The river was very wide here and the last few fishing boats were returning to shore. The sky was gray with low monsoon clouds and rain might start any moment. With no more ferry service for the day, the jetty was empty.

Usually the rickety bus would reach well in time. But today there was a tyre puncture and it took nearly half an hour to get it changed. Then few miles after, suddenly without any warning, the engine stopped. The driver requested the passengers to get down and push. After several attempts the engine coughed, grumbled and with much reluctance returned to life. Now at riverside, to avoid a repeat, the driver without stopping the engine reversed and started back. He did not want to take any chance. The bus would return only next morning.

Sujit was one of the passengers to get off. He was a salesman for a company dealing with agricultural implements. He was to go to the town across the river and meet the Development Officer next morning. Now with no ferry or bus service available, he did not know what to do. Few villagers, who got down from the bus, had already walked away. Sujit had never been to this place. He felt stranded and did not know where to take shelter for the night.

There under a large shady tree, was a small teashop. Business for the day being over, the shop owner was preparing to go home before it was dark or started to rain. He locked the shop door and was ready to go. Desperate, Sujit went to him and requested to wait for a minute. The man asked,
“What do you want Sir? Shop is closed. I cannot prepare tea for you. It is getting dark and may start to rain anytime. I must go now.”

Sujit said
“No, no, I do not want tea. See I am new to the place and know nothing of this area. I came by the bus and wanted to go to the town on other side of the river. Now both the last bus and ferry boat have left and I am stranded. Do not know where to go. Can you suggest any hotel or lodge nearby?”

The man laughed at his naivete.
“No Sir, it is a small village and we have no hotel or lodge here. You get them only in towns.”

However, he was considerate. He thought for few moments, then said,
“Sir, I can suggest you one thing. You see the village across the paddy fields? Take the mud road and the first house on left with brick walls and tin roof belongs to one retired schoolteacher. He is an educated person and a very nice man. He will definitely give you shelter for the night. Now can I go Sir?”

“Oh sure. Thank you.”

Sujit walked down the mud road across the field and reached the house with a high boundary wall and a broad wooden door for entrance. The door was closed. It was almost dark by then and raindrops started falling. Sujit knocked on the door and when there was no response banged hard. Someone shouted from inside,
“Wait, wait, I am coming.”
An elderly person opened the door. He looked at Sujit in jeans and T-shirt, with a kit bag in hand. He could make out that the young man was not a local villager. He must be from the city. Suspicious of strangers, he asked,
“Yes, what do you want?”

Sujit explained his helplessness. He wanted some shelter for the night. Early next morning he would leave and take the first ferry service.
Raindrops increased by then. The man asked Sujit to hurry inside. He bolted the door, went to the veranda and switched on the light. He then said a little apologetically,
“Were you knocking at the door for long? I am bit short of hearing. Sit down please.” They sat on two wooden armchairs on the verandah.
The man said,
“My younger son may be a couple of years older than you. Only this afternoon he left for the town and will return by tomorrow evening. It would have been nice if you could meet him. He passed Intermediate. My elder son is a graduate, working in the Revenue Office in town. He stays there with his wife and children and comes here on school vacations. My daughter is the eldest, married and lives in a village about thirty miles from here. My wife is no more. It is now three years since she passed away.” The old man loved to talk. He gave details of his family to a stranger. Simple folk. Then asked,

“How about you, are you married?”

“No, not yet.”

Sujit could see the lighted kitchen door at the other end of the veranda. Someone inside was preparing food. Aroma of cooking floated out.

“Pushpa, Pushpa.” The old man called in the direction of the kitchen. One young woman wiping hands appeared at the door.
“Were you calling me Papa?” She asked.
”Yes, come here for a moment.” The old man said. She came and stood near them.

She was about twenty-five, of medium height with a proportionate figure. With smooth light brown complexion, she had large innocent eyes on an attractive face. A stone set gold bud glittered on left side of the nose. Two plain gold earrings shined over her cheeks. Her long black hair was loosely knotted in a bun over the slender neck. Glancing at Sujit, she wiped her sweat glistening face with the Saree (Indian ladies’wear).

The old man told,
“We have a guest tonight. He is from the city, unfortunately missed both last bus and ferry. He will be here for the night and take the early morning ferry service. Will have dinner with us. Prepare some special dishes for our guest.”

Glancing once again at Sujit the young woman nodded and was about to return to kitchen, when the old man remembered something and added,
“You arrange his bed in my elder son’s room.”
“Yes Papa.” The woman returned to kitchen.

“Pushpa is the wife of my second son. She is tenth pass and from the town. Nice girl, not like other village women. I am lucky to have her as my daughter-in-law.”
The man was silent for a while. Then added,
“Only one sad thing. My son and she are married nearly five years and still no issue. It keeps me worried all the time. My elder son has two daughters. Who will carry the family title?” He sighed deeply.

Rain had stopped by then. Pushpa finished preparing food and came out of kitchen. She went to the hand pump in a corner of the courtyard and washed her hands, feet and face. She filled a bucket and kept it on the veranda. She went to the last room at the end of the veranda and after some time, entered the middle room and closed the door. Few minutes later she came out, changed to a fresh light yellow saree and hair neatly combed and braided. With a large red bindi (dot on forehead), she looked innocent, pious, and pretty.

“Bed is made. Shall I serve dinner now?” She asked the old man.
He said, “Oh, yes. Our guest must be tired and hungry by now.” He looked at Sujit and smiled.

It started to rain again. Raindrops drumming on the tin roof and falling in straight parallel lines, it was a strange experience for Sujit. Just a few hours back, these people were completely unknown to him and now the old man had told all about his family. He not only gave him shelter for the night but also offered dinner and bed. Very simple folk they were. One would not find such people in the city. Those were mostly selfish and suspicious of strangers.

Sujit wanted to wash his hands and feet. He went to the edge of the veranda. Standing near, Pushpa poured water from the bucket and handed him a clean towel. Without looking, Sujit knew that she was watching him.

Meantime, Pushpa swept and mopped a portion of the floor in verandah. She put two carpet mats side by side and placed brass plates and water filled glasses in front. She asked them to sit down for dinner.
(Normal Indian custom of serving dinner in rural areas).

Food was warm, simple and tasty. Sujit praised the preparations, but she only smiled. The old man commented that she was an excellent cook. Blushing she glanced at Sujit.

Dinner over, they sat for sometime in the chairs again. Sujit told about his parents, his brother and sister in the city. His education and job. The old man said his younger son was in grains supply business and doing fairly well. His only worry was that the daughter-in-law had no issue so far. Both husband and wife had been to various places of worship with no result. Three months back, they consulted a Gynecologist in the town. He prescribed medicines and gave some hope. Now everything depended on God’s will.

Pushpa had dinner in the kitchen. Then she arranged things and locked the kitchen door. She entered the middle room, in a row of three on one side of the verandah. Old man explained that the first room was his own and the middle one for the younger son and Pushpa. Last room was for the elder son and his family, whenever they come. Bed for Sujit was arranged in that.

“Papa, it is time for you to go to bed.” She called from her room.
“Yes, yes, I should go now.” He got up, and then told Sujit, “Moreover, you are to get up early to catch the first ferry. It leaves at sunrise. Hope you will be comfortable and sleep well. Good Night.”
He walked to his room and bolted the door.

Sujit also went to the assigned room and shut the door. The bed was neatly prepared with a clean white sheet. He changed to nightdress, switched off the light and went to bed. It was dark, except for a faint nightglow coming through the open window.

He could hear Pushpa bolting her bedroom door. Then everything was quiet, except raindrops beating on the tin roof and frogs croaking in the dark. Somewhere in the distance a dog was barking and a night bird flew from one tree to other.

The place, the bed and raindrops beating on the tin roof, were all new to him and Sujit was not getting sleep. He turned from side to side and thought of the happenings of the day. He thought of Pushpa and felt sad for her. Poor woman.

Sujit almost dozed off, when he heard the faint sound of a door opening. Then he saw the door connecting his and the middle room slowly opening. The adjoining room was Pushpa’s and the door was shut when he came in. Now what could have happened? He saw Pushpa silently walk to his bed. He was surprised. Was it for real?
Then Pushpa bent towards him and whispered,
“Are you asleep?”
“No, not yet. What happened? Is your father-in-law alright?”
“He is alright and sounds asleep. May I sit on the bed?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Oh yes, please sit down.” He moved a little away and Pushpa sat on the edge. She smelt of rose, perhaps it was the body powder she used.

Her low voice trembled a little,
“I request you not to mistake me. I heard you and my father-in-law talking. Now you know that even after five years of marriage, I am still childless. We tried all available means, but without any result. My husband likes children very much and he is more worried than anyone else. He constantly thinks about this and gets depressed. If it continues like this for long, I am afraid, something serious may happen. I love my husband more than my own life. I am ready to sacrifice anything for him. I even asked him to remarry, but he is vehemently opposed. We love each other very much.” She paused.

Even in the dark, Sujit knew she was crying silently. He moved nearer and said,
“Your father-in-law told that some Gynecologist has given you some hope.”

“Yes, he also said that I am absolutely normal. Defect lies with my husband. It seems that for certain males, a particularly essential thing for reproduction is extremely low in quantity. My husband is one of them. Fortunately it is not absolutely zero. Chances are there, but one in thousand. Doctor prescribed some medicines and he is taking them regularly. He is perfectly capable otherwise. We do it – you know what – with the hope of my conceiving. Then every month disappointment awaits us and he gets frustrated. I do not know what is in our fate.”

She was silent. So also Sujit. Then almost inaudible, she whispered,
“You can help me.”
“I can help you! How! I am not a doctor!” Surprised Sujit could not make out what she meant.

“You can help me get a child. You know how. Days are passing by. Then a time will come when it will be too late. Everyday I beg to God to find me a way. Now I think He has listened to my prayers. Tonight my husband is away and my body is ready to accept your offer. None has seen you coming. No one will suspect. You are God sent. Please help me, please.” She held his hand.

Sujit was speechless for few seconds, then said,
“You told that you love each other very much. Now will you not be betraying him? Will you not be unfaithful and cheating an innocent person?”
“No, I will not. I request you to save him. I was, I am and I shall ever remain the most faithful wife. My fidelity is beyond question.” She paused,
“It is my body which needs you, not my soul. My heart belongs to my husband only.”
Though Sujit knew that she had no love for him, still the desire for her body was intense and rising rapidly. Hesitant, he asked,
“Your husband may suspect.”
“No, he will not. He tries every night and tomorrow also he will make attempts. If I conceive tonight, he will think that his efforts have finally yielded result. He is a simple man and will never suspect me even in dreams. Now, please do not delay.” She whispered and her lips lightly touched his ear. He felt hot and could not control passion any longer. Forget the mind, he wanted her warm body.

He pulled her close. Eyes closed, lips parted, she tilted her face up and he passionately kissed her full in the mouth. They removed their clothes and embraced each other hard, feverishly kissing and caressing all over. Holding his cheeks in both her palms, Pushpa pushed his head down to her bare breasts. With burning passion, Sujit laid her flat on the bed. Body against body, his chest pressing her firm round breasts and a leg circling her smooth tapering thigh, time ceased to exist. She was soft, shivering and warm under his palm. Eyes shut, lips trembling, moaning and breathing heavily she pulled him over her. Sujit was fully roused by then. Eager and impatient, her body was inviting and she begged him to take her at once.

Sujit was clumsy and fumbling. Sensing his lack of experience, Pushpa guided him through the trembling, pulsating and moist road to paradise. He was like a lion in cage and then, the earth shook; sky went aflame and the world exploded within. Mouths locked, they tried to muffle the last ecstatic cry. And then it was all over. Sweating exhausted and limp, Sujit rolled down to the side.

Rain stopped by then. A dog was barking somewhere in the distance and frogs continued to croak. Pushpa remained flat and motionless on her back. Probably she wanted to fully absorb the precious gift she received tonight, not wanting to waste even a drop of it.

Few minutes later, Sujit put one arm across her breasts and circled her silky smooth thighs with one leg. He tried to pull her nearer, but slowly and gently Pushpa removed his hand and leg from over her.
Surprised, he asked,
“What happened, anything wrong?”

Without answering Pushpa got down from the bed and put on her clothes. She said,
“I am going to my room. Thank you for everything. Now all depend on my luck.” She walked towards the connecting door and then remembering something, came back and stood near the bed. She whispered,
“Tomorrow you must leave early, even before sunrise, when it is still dark and go to the river jetty. And one more thing, it is my personal request --- never again come to this house or try to meet me. Please.” She turned, went to her room and bolted the door shut.

For a long time Sujit remained awake. He felt exploited and cheated and was angry. Then, slowly reason descended on him. He realized her desperate condition and felt compassion. He sincerely wished her efforts tonight would be successful.
Slowly he became calm and rather felt sorry for her. Listening to the continuous croaking of frogs, he fell asleep.

Hours later, when birds started chirping, he woke up with a start. Quickly he changed the dress, took the bag and came out of the room. It was still dark around, only the sky was getting lighter and luckily it was not raining.

He walked to the old man’s door and knocked.
“Who is it?” Old man shouted from his bed.
“It is me. I am leaving now.” Sujit replied.
“Oh, I see. Wait, I am coming.” The old man opened the door, looked around and said, “Why so early? It is still dark.”
“No, today I do not want to take any chance. I must catch the first ferry boat. I would rather wait at the jetty than miss it.”
“Okay, as you wish.” Then he called “Pushpa, Pushpa, get up, our guest is leaving.”
After a minute, Pushpa came out with sleepy eyes and disheveled. She stood away from Sujit and avoided looking at him.
“Go up to the entrance door and close it after he leaves.” The old man told her.
Sujit took the old man’s hands “Thank you very much for everything. I really did not expect so much hospitality. Thanks again.”
“God bless you.” The old man muttered.

They got down from the verandah. The old man stood alone. Sujit walked to the exit door, Pushpa following him. He opened the door and stepped out. Pushpa was about to close the door, when he turned and whispered,
“I understand your position Pushpa. I have no doubt that you are a very devoted and faithful wife. There was no sin in what you did last night. Sure I shall try my best to honor your request. Still, I can never forget you. Thanks for everything and good bye.”
He walked away in the darkness. Pushpa closed the door.

One and half years passed by. Sujit avoided any sales assignment in that area. But now his senior wanted him to go there and he could not refuse.

It was late afternoon when Sujit got down from the bus. Next ferry would be after another two hours. He glanced at the watch. Plenty of time to make a trip to the village. After moments of hesitation he started walking down the mud road, across paddy fields. He must know what happened to Pushpa. He was curious.

In few minutes he was knocking at the entrance door. It was hot and humid and he was sweating. Some male voice responded from inside and then the door opened. A young man, must be Pushpa’s husband, stood holding the door and looked at Sujit. He was tall, well built and pleasantly handsome. Sujit liked him instantly. No wonder Pushpa loved him so much. He felt guilty in his presence.
“Yes! You want something?” He asked with a smile.

Sujit said, “Pardon me. I was passing this way and felt very thirsty. It is so hot. Hope you won’t mind, if I ask for a glass of water.”
“Oh no, not at all. Please come in.” He stepped aside.

Sujit came to the courtyard and there he saw Pushpa. A child on lap, she was sitting on the steps to the verandah. She showed neither surprise nor any recognition, but kept looking at him. Her husband said,
“Pushpa, please get a glass of water for the gentleman. He is thirsty.”
Pushpa got up, came to her husband, asked him to hold the child and went to kitchen.

The child was chubby and very cute. With large eyes he was staring at Sujit.
“Your son?” Sujit asked. “How old is he?”
“Yes, my son.” The young man sounded proud. “He is about nine months.”
Sujit looked around. “Is there no one else, say your parents?”
“No, my mother died two years after our marriage and father passed away just three months back. He loved his grandson very much.”
The child was still staring at Sujit.
“You have a lovely boy” Sujit extended hands and readily the child came to him. He was not afraid of the stranger.

Sujit did not know what came to him. His whole being became cool and quiet and a peculiar calm descended on him. He pressed the baby lightly to his chest and felt nothing could be more desirable than this. He closed his eyes for few seconds and when opened, saw Pushpa standing beside her husband and watching him with a glass of water in hand.

Sujit carefully held the child with one arm took the glass and drank it full. The young man asked if he would like to have some more water. Though he did not need any, Sujit said,
“Yes, one more glass please.”
He wanted to hold the child longer. Pushpa went back to kitchen and returned with a jug of water. She avoided looking at him directly.

After some time, though he wished to stay longer, Sujit felt it proper to go then. After one more hug, he extended the child to Pushpa. But the child would not go and clung to him. Smiling, Pushpa’s husband remarked,
“He likes you very much.”
He told the child,
“Do you want to go with uncle? Then go, Ta-Ta. Bye.”
He laughed. But Pushpa did not, as though she believed the child might really go along with Sujit. She almost forcibly took the child away from his arms and he started to cry. Pushpa wiped his tears and tried to console him.

Sujit was watching. Several times their eyes met, but her face remained expressionless. Few minutes later Sujit said,
“I shall make a move now. May miss the ferry otherwise.” He softly pinched cheeks of the child in Pushpa’s arms and said,
“Ta – Ta, Bye.”

He started walking towards the exit door. The young man came along with. Sujit heard the child crying. The boy wanted to come to him.

At the door, just before going out, he turned to have a last look at Pushpa and the child. Pushpa held the right arm of the child up and waved at him. She was telling the child,
“Ask uncle to come again. He must not forget you.”
Smiling she was looking at Sujit. But did her eyes look sad? He was not very sure.

Sujit waved back, smiled and said,
“No, I shall not forget you. Never.”

He thanked, shook hands with the young man and stepped out.

A Nightmare

2006-03-11T09:47:00.000-05:00

Short Story by RANJIT SINHA ROY

Like every time, that night also Prapti came to the station early. Her train was at ten O’clock. Full one hour to wait. But Prapti preferred to be in the station.

Prapti was from Srikantpur, a small town. For past two years she was in the Metro City with a comfortable job. She stayed in a decent workingwomen's hostel. Her mother stayed all alone at Srikantpur.

Once every alternate month, Prapti would go home. This month there were three clear holidays, including a Sunday and it was a great opportunity.

After settling down in an empty bench, Prapti took out a magazine and flipped through the pages.

Soon she was absorbed in a story when she had the uncanny feeling of someone watching her. She looked around and saw the young man, watching her from behind a column. He turned away the moment their eyes met. For a pretty young girl, these were expected hazards of life. Prapti concentrated in the story. After few minutes, out of curiosity, she looked up and he was not there. Looking around she saw him standing near the bookstall and watching her. Prapti was irritated. Then from the corner of her eyes, she saw him slowly walking towards her. When right in front, Prapti looked up frowning and gave him such a stern look that he hurriedly moved away.

This young man was tall and handsome, wearing denim trousers, sneakers and a dark leather jacket. With glasses on, he looked more like a junior corporate executive. Of course, looks could be deceptive.

He moved over to the other end of the platform, where the lights were less and continued watching her and two other girls sitting in the opposite bench. Pervert!

Then he slowly walked towards those girls, paused in front of them for few seconds and moved away. The girls were seriously discussing something and did not even notice.

Suddenly it flashed through her mind. Was he also traveling by the same train and in the same compartment? She remembered to have read in newspaper recently that police was looking for a man attacking lonely young girls. Prapti was almost sure that he was the same person, now selecting victims for the night. She thought of calling police, then decided against. She was not absolutely sure of her assumption and had no desire to get involved in a police case.

By then the platform was getting crowded. The young man stood near the tea stall and watched all young girls coming. He finished drinking tea and then walked towards her. He stopped a little away behind a column watching her. Sure he had already decided on his victim for the night. Prapti was now genuinely scared. She shivered and covered herself with the shawl.

The train would reach Srikantpur at three thirty in the morning. Only a few passengers to get down and the station would be lonely in a short time. Being a girl from the town, some of the auto drivers knew her well and they were reliable. No problem if any of them was available. That was of course if this man also got down at Srikantpur. Hope he would not.

The train was put in the platform. Prapti got in and sat down in her pre-reserved berth. She felt relieved. But it was only short lived. He came in, put his shoulder bag down and settled in the berth opposite. Prapti could not tell whether it was a coincidence or by design. She was visibly pale and did not know what to do. The young man was watching her with a faint smile.

When TTE came examining tickets, Prapti asked if it would be possible to change her berth. He checked the passenger list and said all were occupied and no change was possible.

Prapti felt helpless and then asked him to wake her up before the train reaches Srikantpur. Immediately Prapti noticed an amused smile on the young man’s face. She realized the mistake committed. She should not have told her destination in his presence. Now Prapti was sure, he would also get down at Srikantpur and fulfil his lust for the night. Prapti decided to alight as soon as the train would stop at Srikantpur and run to Vehicles Park. She hoped some known driver would be present. It was only ten minutes drive to her house. She would escape from the clutches of this maniac.

The train started to move. Prapti lied down and fully covered herself with the shawl, as though it was a protection. Few minutes later, the young man switched off the lights and lied down. In the dim blue night light Prapti could see him watching her. She turned to other side facing the partition and tried to brush off all apprehensions from her mind.

The train sped through the dark night. All passengers except they two were fast asleep.

After few minutes she turned and slightly opening the eyes saw him lying flat with one arm over the forehead. Perhaps sensing that Prapti was watching, he turned his head and looked at her with a cunning smile. She was really afraid now. Even in the cold night she was sweating.

Some horrible thoughts came to her mind. Suppose he pressed a chloroform soaked kerchief on her nose and enjoy her. Or say, if he was a mad killer, gag and slit her throat open with a sharp knife. No one would know. Other passengers would see her blood soaked lifeless body only in the morning. She shivered at the thought.

Then she heard him getting up. He stood between the berths, looking at her in dim light. Prapti waited with baited breath. Something terrible would happen now. Prapti braced herself for the attack.

But no such thing happened. Few seconds after, he went down the aisle, perhaps to toilet. Later, he returned, glanced at her once again and lied down flat.

One thing was confusing. He was handsome, looked fairly educated and should be from a decent family. How could he be a horrible molester or maniac killer? Then why was he after her? Following her everywhere, smiling meaninglessly and watching her in the darkness. Rogue number one!

Despite trying to remain awake and alert, she fell asleep and woke up with a start when TTE called her announcing the train was approaching Srikantpur.

Quickly she got up, took the bag and went to the exit door. The young man also followed. She looked at her wristwatch; it was exactly three thirty and pitch dark outside. The train slowed down and then ground to halt. Immediately Prapti jumped down, rushed out and was relieved to find one known driver at the Auto Park. She got in and asked him to rush. She could see the young man coming out of the station. She felt safe.

Prapti reached home and was opening the gate when another auto came and stopped in front of the house. To her horror she saw the same young man getting down. Hurriedly, she closed the gate, ran to the entrance door, started banging and shouted

"Mummy, Mummy, Open the door. Quick."

She looked back and saw the man slowly opening the gate. She was horrified. Now the auto driver had also left and there was no one around. Leisurely, the young man closed the gate, put the latch, and walked down the garden path with a faint smile. He was in no hurry. Prapti looked wide-eyed. Now she was sure that the man was a hardened criminal. He would come up the steps, gag and drag her behind some bush and then…. She could not think further and again banged the door shouting "Mummy, Mummy."

Lights were now switched on in the front room and mother called, "Is it Prapti? Wait, wait, I am opening the door."

Moment the door was opened Prapti ran in and stood behind mother clutching her shoulders.

"Namaste, Auntie." The young man was standing at the lighted door smiling.

Mother also smiled and said "Namaste, Akash. Come in, don’t stand in the cold?"

He came in, put the bag down and touched her feet.

Mother admiringly looked at him and said, "You have become very tall and handsome Akash." He smiled shyly.

Mother said, "So you two have already met." She turned to Prapti standing behind.

"No, we have not met yet." she stammered, still staring at him.

Akash smiled, "Yes, we traveled together, but have not formally met."

Mother said, "Okay, then let me do the introduction. Prapti, do you remember Sumitra aunty? They were in this town. Sumitra is a great friend of mine. Though many years’ back they moved over to Indore, we still have contact. Do you not remember Akash? You were in the same school. He in fifth class and you in third when they left. He completed MBA this year and got appointed with Centurion Finance, in your city only. He wanted to utilise these three days holiday visiting us. He very much wanted to meet you and also see his childhood town.

Prapti was sullen. "Why did you not inform me before?"

Mother said, "He telephoned me only last evening, informing that he was travelling by the night train. I told him that you may also come by the same train and I tried for you in the hostel. They said that you had already left for the station. What could I do? Anyway now you remember Akash. No!"

Prapti faintly remembered the short, chubby boy in fifth class. Students used to tease him. How much he had changed. With a broad smile she said "Motu!"

Everyone including Akash laughed. Mother laughingly said, " Prapti you should not talk like that. Now it is quite late. Both of you must be very tired. Prapti, you go to your room. I have arranged the guestroom for him. Come, Akash.I shall show you." Like a very obedient boy he followed mother.

Prapti called from behind, "Motu. Go and sleep well." This time mother did not tell anything. She only smiled.

Next morning they woke up late and now sitting opposite each other in the dining table. Mother was in kitchen and asked them to wait a few minutes, breakfast was getting ready. Silently they sat.

Few minutes later, Prapti asked "Why did you not introduce yourself last night?"

Akash said, "My God! You know, twice I attempted. But each time you glared at me so hard that I did not dare to approach." He smiled and continued, "I started observing each and every young girl coming to the platform, particularly those who were un-accompanied. But could not be sure. Then deciding that you must be the prettiest girl in station I came and stood near you. Prapti, I think I was right. You were the prettiest girl in the station last night."

Prapti blushed pink and looked down. Silently she drew invisible patterns with her finger on the table.

After some pause, Akash asked "Prapti, what did you think of me last night?"

Prapti was silent for few moments, and then looking straight into his eyes started laughing. Akash was apprehensive. He did not know what was coming. "I thought you were a very evil person, running after young girls, capable of doing anything. I was really scared of you."

"And now? What do you think of me now?" Akash was curious to know.

Prapti got up "I shall go to kitchen and help mother prepare breakfast" She had mischief in her eyes.

"No, no, you tell me first." Akash insisted.

Laughingly she sat down.

"Okay, okay. Now I think… I think you are a real Motu." She blushed, and then glanced at him with twinkling eyes.

For few moments they silently looked at each other and then started laughing together.

Mother came in and put the breakfast tray on table. Lovingly she looked at them. They did not know what thoughts crossed her mind.

Soulmates

2006-02-22T22:23:00.000-05:00

Short Story By: RANJIT SINHA ROY

"How much?"
"Three thousand "

Deepam finished tucking in his shirt, tightened the trouser belt, pulled up the zipper and then turned to her. She was lying flat on her back, a white sheet covering up to the neck. With half closed sleepy eyes she was observing him. Deepam felt uncomfortable, though a little while before, he was in bed with her and not a thread in-between. But, it was different then.

Though she covered her body, Deepam knew from the curves on the sheet that she was nude underneath. In the soft light of early dawn, lying flat in bed, with half-closed eyes, the girl looked irresistibly desirable. Somehow, with great difficulty he controlled the rising passion. He was not prepared to waste money, twice in a day, on a Call Girl.
He took out the purse, put three thousand rupees on the bedside table and said,
"Okay then, I am going now."

The girl was silently watching him and then when he was about to put on the shoes, she murmured demurely,
"Must you go now? It is Sunday today. We can have coffee together.” Her voice was soft like the early dawn light.

"Oh, sure, I won't mind." Deepam smiled.

He was surprised. This was something unusual. He spent many nights with professionals. But no one had ever asked him to stop for coffee. Those were absolute business affairs and no courtesy thrown in-between.

"Nice then. Now, would you please turn around, go to the window and enjoy the outside scenery for a minute. I shall be up and put on something. Do not turn around till I ask you." She was smiling.

Deepam did as told. He was amused at her shyness. Other professionals never bothered. Few minutes later she asked him to turn.

The girl was young, about twenty-three or so, may be few years younger than him. Tall, slim, well shaped and moderately fair. With large black eyes and a smooth oval face, she looked very attractive. Deepam did not notice these all last night. He was full of passion then. Now, she was in a light blue, flower printed pajama suit. With shoulder length faintly brown silken hair, loosely tied into a ponytail, she looked very much a pretty, young, college girl.

The room had a kitchenette. The girl asked him to sit in one of the two chairs at the small dining table and started preparing coffee. When ready, she brought two cups to the table.

They sat opposite each other and quietly sipped. Deepam continued to look at her pretty innocent face. Conscious, the girl gazed sideways through the open window, avoiding his admiring eyes. After sometime, she turned smiling,

"Is the coffee alright?" she asked.

"Oh yes, it is fine. " He smiled back.

Then, a little hesitantly Deepam said,
"We spent the night together, but still I do not know your name. May I ask it now, if you have no objection to tell?"

"Reena"

"Reena what? What is the family title?"

"I do not have any." She smiled. "I was only three days old when they left me on
the steps of the orphanage. I do not know who my parents were."

"What about religion?”

"Unlike most others, this particular orphanage is non religious. It is run on humanitarian principle. When children grow up sufficiently, they are given the choice to select their own religion. I did not choose any." She smiled, then asked,
"Have you finished coffee? Would you like to have some more?”

"Coffee was good. Won’t mind to have one more cup. It being Sunday, I am in no hurry. Will it be all right if I order some breakfast over telephone? No objections?"

"No. No objections." She smiled, turning at him while preparing coffee.

Reena was back to table with two cups. She sat down, pushed aside few stray locks from her forehead and smiled.
"Now I have told about myself, how about you?"

Deepam silently sipped coffee for a minute. Then said,
"I am Deepam, Vice President - Finance of a multi national company. Age wise I may be few years older than you. My parents are no more. Father was from north and mother a south Indian. They married despite vehement opposition of their families and were ultimately totally disowned by them. I have no idea who they are. I am all alone in this world"

"How about your wife? You are married, is not so?" She was faintly curious.

"No, I am not. I was a regular visitor to Pubs and Discos. Once I met a very attractive, fun loving, girl in one of those joints. By some unknown chemistry, we were madly drawn to each other and decided to give it a trial by living together" Deepam paused and then continued,
"Then only I discovered that she was a different type. She slept whole day and in the evening she would be off to her places of fun and come back late, heavily drunk. I was against drinking in the apartment, which she objected. In the process our relationship became strained. After a couple of months we were unable to tolerate each other and mutually decided to part ways before things went worse." Deepam smiled.

Doorbell rang. Reena opened and took delivery of breakfast packets. She arranged items in two dishes and brought to the table.

There were some thick textbooks, one half open, on the table. She asked Deepam to move them to the side rack and make space for the dishes.

Deepam noticed the books were for higher studies in Economics. Mildly surprised he asked,
"Whose books are these?"

"Why, mine! Whose else will they be!"

"Are you studying?"

"Yes. I am a postgraduate student in the Institute of Financial Studies. I am in the last semester now."

Speechless Deepam stared at her.

Reena smiled, "What, it seems you do not believe me!"

"No, no, not that. Only I could not correlate your profession with what you said." Deepam stammered.

Reena lowered her eyes.
"My profession is for the sake of my studies only."

"How come! I do not understand."

"See, the orphanage takes care of its wards upto the age of eighteen. Then they are left on their own. I was a good student, always the topper. By eighteen I passed Senior School with scholarship and wanted to study more. With the help of my orphanage I got admission in a good college with free tuition, boarding and lodging in the girls hostel. The scholarship amount was not much, but somehow I managed and after three years became a Graduate with Honors in Economics." She paused,

"After that, I wanted to go for still higher studies. But how? Then there was one girl in the hostel who was secretly in this trade. She suggested taking up this profession. Being a girl without family bonds, I did not have many inhibitions and after a little hesitation I agreed. The same girl arranged an agent and fixed this apartment for me. Here everybody knows that I work in a Call Center and thrice a week I attend night shift. " She smiled.

"Where do you operate?" Deepam was curious now.

"It is always in star hotels. I do not go to other places, nor do I call customers to the apartment. You are an exception."

"Why this special treatment for me?" His eyes twinkled.

"I do not know what came over me last evening. I think I liked your voice over the phone or your way of talking or my intuition or something, I can not say exactly."

What if anyone here asks, who I am?"

"My long lost cousin, I would say." She giggled.

After breakfast they sat in the long sofa in the living space. There was a TV set and a couple of women's magazines on a side table.

They talked of simple things in life, avoiding anything bitter or unpleasant. She told about her college, institution, friends and classmates. Her favorite novels, music albums, TV serials and films. She narrated a picnic trip arranged by the institute and fun they had. She was like any other well brought up, fun loving college girl. There was not a trace of the profession she practiced.

Depam told about his own student days, his office, his colleagues, friends and his favorite books, films and music. They mostly matched her taste. He told about his trips abroad and people, cities, landscapes and some interesting experiences he had there.

They went on talking and talking and suddenly realized it was almost noon.
Deepam got up and said, "I shall make a move now."

"Must you go now?" She stood up looking sad.

Deepam had a strong desire to hold her in his arms and shower kisses. But he controlled himself. They had a wonderful morning together. He did not want to spoil it.

"When can we meet again?" Deepam asked holding her hand. It was soft and delicate.

"Any time you want." She opened the door and stood aside.

"Alright, next Saturday evening then. I shall come a little early. Be ready, by say, seven thirty. We shall have dinner outside."

He walked to the lift. She stood in front of the door, as it was about to close and waved at him.

While going down, Deepam wondered 'was it real’! He never expected a professional to be like her. He had plenty of experience with Call Girls. But Reena was totally different. Next Saturday was far off, seven days away. He was already getting impatient.

The week moved slowly and it was Saturday again. Exactly at seven thirty Deepam pressed the doorbell and almost immediately Reena opened, as though she was waiting near the door.

She was dressed up and ready to go. She wore a peacock blue dress. Had eye shadow and liners, a little blush-on and glossy lipstick on full lips. With pearl necklace and earrings, a thick silver bangle on one hand, cascading shoulder long silky hair, smooth soft skin, large eyes and oval face, she looked absolutely gorgeous. Wide-eyed, Deepam stared.

"What are you looking at?" Reena said blushing.

"I am looking at the most beautiful girl in town."

Reena blushed pink and looked at her polished fingernails. After some time she said
"Shall we go now or you want to wait for some more time?"

"No. Let us go. I am impatient to show the world that I have the prettiest girl with me tonight."

They were going through the Menu Card, when one middle-aged gentleman with a fat wife and two teen-aged children came in. They were about to sit in the table next to them, when the gentleman saw Reena and as though, seeing a ghost, became visibly pale. Hurriedly he moved over with his family to the furthest table and sat with his back to them.

Deepam was amused. He asked if she knew the gentleman. Reena said, "Yes. I shall tell you later."

On the way back, Reena told about the gentleman in the restaurant.

As he suspected, she said that, the gentleman was only once her customer. Most were like him, middle aged, pot bellied, with a dull wife and grown up children. Their sex lives being unsatisfactory, they would secretly engage a Call Girl in a hotel room and try to satisfy their lust. Unfortunately, in most cases, capability did not match the desire. Then in future, they never recognize the girl in public. It immensely suited her and in fact, she insisted with her agent to engage only such people.

Deepam laughed. "Wise girl. Did you think that I would also be like one of them?"

"Not at all. I had an instinct that you will be different and you did prove yourself more than expectation." She whispered shyly.

Returning to apartment they sat on the long sofa chitchatting for some time. Then she went to bathroom and changed to nightdress. Deepam brought a small night-halt bag from the car and put on the sleeping suit.

Then they moved over to the bed and after well past mid night, tired and satisfied they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Deepam woke up late and Reena was not by his side. She was in bathroom, under the shower, humming a popular tune. Few minutes after, she came out wearing a robe. Deepam pretended to be asleep. Reena prepared tea. Then coming to bedside called him. When he appeared to be sleeping, she put the teacups on the bedside table and shook him. He suddenly put his arms around and pulled her down.

"I do not want tea, I want something else." Deepam laughed.

"Again! You naughty boy." Laughing she surrendered. Tea was cold by the time they got up.

They had light breakfast and then moved over to the sofa. Remembering something important, Deepam went to the bedside table, took out the purse and was about to put down the amount, when Reena almost screamed,
"No, you don't."

Deepam was surprised. He turned around with money in hand.
"Why, it is your usual fees only!"

"No, you need not pay. I am no longer a Call Girl. "

"Since when!" Deepam was surprised.

" Last Sunday. Night after you came first. I have already informed my agent about that."

"Really! But, why! Why this sudden decision!"

"No, it was not a sudden decision. For quite some time I was thinking of quitting this profession. Now my final exams are very near. I must prepare well to have a high score and get a good placement. Otherwise the present will catch up with me forever. There will be no escape then." She had a faraway look.

Deepam did not insist further. Probably she was right. He only asked,
"How will you manage without any income? I can give some money if you need. You can say, as loan, in case you are very particular. "

"Thank you very much, but I may not require any. See I have some savings to carry me through for another few months. Then exams will be over and of course if I do well, can expect to get a decent placement."

Deepam was silent. He felt very sad. Poor girl, struggling all by herself to survive in this cruel world.

He thought for sometime then said,
"Reena, see, I am also from the Finance discipline and went through same subjects, same books, while studying Management. Not only that, now I have on job experience also. If you have no objection, I can help you with your studies. What do you say?"

She looked very happy with the unexpected suggestion and said,
"Sure, I would love to. It would be very helpful."

"Then when shall we start? Today?"

"Tomorrow. From tomorrow. Today I want to be with you only, and nothing else." Her face glowed.

It was then they decided that, every evening Deepam would come to her apartment, directly from office. Help her with studies.

Deepam placed order for a simple lunch.

Meanwhile, he turned pages of some books, asked few questions. He had no doubt that she was a very bright student.

They continued with the schedule. Deepam would come in the evenings, check the portions she studied explain and solve problems if she had any and then leave. But on weekends she would insist him to stay back. She was adamant about that and Deepam would agree. Though apparently reluctant, inwardly he would be willing.

At night they would sleep together. Satisfied, she would fall asleep, cozy and safe in his arms. Next morning she looked much relaxed. Absent was the tension of studying long hours and anxiety for exams.

One day she asked the meaning of 'Deepam'.
"It means Lamp, is not so?"
Deepam nodded.

"Lamp brings light to darkness. You are the lamp in my life." Reena was pensive.
Deepam remained quiet, not wanting to disturb her thoughts.

"Our program is, I shall leave and you will study now.”
"Nothing doing my dear Mr. Deepam.I refuse to study now, at least till evening.”
Reena protested and like a sulking schoolgirl, sat beside him on the sofa.
"We shall watch TV and then have lunch together. You order something simple."

They were watching a program, when after sometime Reena lied down with head on his lap and curled up her legs. Deepam softly caressed her arms; cheeks, bare shoulders and ran his fingers through her silken hair. He was watching TV and after sometime, looking down, found her asleep firmly holding his hand, as if she was afraid that he might go away.

'Poor girl, longing for love and affection.'
For a long time he looked down at her innocent, sleeping face.
'Could she really be a Call Girl?' He could not believe it.

Meantime, Reena was called for placement interviews. She faired well and expected good offers, which might take about a month.

Then one day results were announced. Reena got the second highest position. She immediately rang up Deepam in his office. She was impatient for his return and when he came, Reena hugged him tight and showered kisses. Her joy knew no bounds.
That night they had dinner outside. It was a special treat.

Couple of days later, Reena received appointment offers simultaneously from three reputed companies. All were equally good, offering fairly good salary in middle management positions. Reena was perplexed. Could not decide on which to accept. Evening Deepam came and together they decided on the one most suitable for her. Next day she sent her acceptance of offer. She was to join after fifteen days.

Few days later, one evening while watching TV, Deepam took out a small gift packet and presented it to her.

"What is it?" Reena asked.

"Open and see." Deepam said with a smile on his lips.

Curious, Reena opened the packet. It had a single diamond ring in a small jewel box.
"Beautiful. Why, is it for me!" Reena sounded as though not believing.

"Yes. For whom else it would be? Reena I wanted to tell you something."
Reena expectedly looked at him. She seemed worried.

"Reena, I want to marry you." He said slowly, almost whispering.
When she did not say a word he muttered again.

Holding his hand she said
"Deepam you know my background very well. I am a Call Girl."

"You were, but not now. You are now as pure as gold."

"You do not know how many people I slept with, how much my body was used by others." Reena whispered.

"I am not interested to know. Moreover, I am also no virgin. I visited scores of call girls before we met. I lost count of them."

"I was abandoned by my parents and left at the orphanage. I came to the world, nameless, loveless and unwanted." Her eyes filled with tears.

Deepam said,
"Think of me Reena. Our ancestral family discarded my parents. I know none of my people. I even do not know which place I belong to. In a sense, I am also an orphan like you. Reena, please, please, I want you. I am very sincere. Please do not turn me down."

Reena was silent. Then looking at his eyes she said,
" In few months you will start thinking that I was once a call girl. This will be biting your heart forever. No Deepam, you have done so much for me. I can not bring misery to you, I do not want to ruin your life."

"No Reena, it will not happen like that. I should say we are both equally immoral and equally pure at heart. We are the same soul in two different bodies. Reena, please accept.”

Tear in eyes, Reena was silent for a long time. Then turning she said,
"No Deepam it is not possible."

Deepam looked at her eyes, trying to find out what was in her mind. Then with a sigh asked,
"Is that final, is it the last word?"

"Yes." She nodded and gave back the ring. "Forgive me, I can not accept it. Give it to the girl you marry."

Deepam got up, opened the door, "Good night" he said and went out without looking back.

Night passed without food or sleep. Reena lay in bed, blankly staring at the ceiling. Towards morning she fell asleep.

Morning came and the day passed. Reena had little food, and then waited hoping that Deepam might come in the evening. But he did not.

Days passed, then the week and she kept on waiting. There were black shadows under her eyes. It was weekend again and Reena was almost sure that he would come. But no, Deepam did not turn up, nor did he make any contact.

Reena thought of giving him a call. Twice she dialed, but switched off when he responded. She did not have the courage to talk. Deepak saw the number and knew who the caller was.

In the evening the doorbell rang. She rushed and opened it the door. Deepam stood there, disheveled and with several days growth of beard. He stood looking at her. She held his hand and softly said,
"Will you not come in? I was waiting for you."

As Deepam came in she closed the door and embraced him tight. She sobbed with her head on his shoulder and said through tears,
"Deepam I agree, I agree. You are the only light, in my life of darkness. I do not want to lose you."

Deepam lifted her face up, wiped tears and kissed tenderly, muttering,
"No Reena, we shall never part. Never, never."

The marriage was registered after a month.

Reception was held in the same restaurant where Reena and Deepam had first visited. The hotel manager presented her a large flower bouquet. A well-decorated small banquet room was reserved in advance. Guests congratulated the couple. Everyone said they seemed to be made for each other.

Reception over. Wishing the couple a happy married life, guests took leave.
Deepam thanked the Restaurant Manager and drove with Reena to his apartment.

Reena had never been to his place. At the entrance Deepam asked her to wait, then after opening the door wide, he carried her up in his arms, went to bedroom and putting her down said,
"Welcome home, my dear wife."

Reena still had her arms around his neck. "Even now I can not believe it Deepam. The whole thing is like a dream to me. Hold me tight Deepam. I want to feel that you are real."

Deepam put his arms around her waist and lightly kissed her forehead. They stood holding each other for some time. Then Deepam said,
"Once you said, you do not have any title. Today I give you one. You are now 'Reena Sharma', beloved wife of Deepam Sharma."

Reena looked up at his eyes, smiled and said,
"Thank you, Mr. Sharma."

******************

Two years later, I was invited to the first birthday party of their son.

I knew them both even before they were married. I was a consultant in the company where Deepam worked and a visiting lecturer to the institute where Reena did her post graduation. Both were my favorites.

The baby in his mother’s arms was cute. Deepam looked a loving husband and a proud father.

The photographer wanted to take few snaps of the three. Reena with the baby and Deepam with his arm around her shoulder posed smilingly. Few snaps taken, the photographer asked Reena to stand under the bright light with the baby, for a special photograph of mother and child.

She stood smiling, holding the baby in her arms, eyes tender and soft. I remembered to have seen a similar picture somewhere before, but could not recollect where. Then I suddenly knew.

"Madonna! She looks like Madonna with the child!"

There was a flash of light.The Photographer had finished his job.

The Kissing Bandit

2006-02-19T12:01:00.000-05:00

Short Story By: Bill Monks

“Your my last customer, Mr.Kias.”

“Hey Tony, Use the machine on the back and sides. How are the Italians doing? Do you think they’ll take the Cup.”

“Were the best in Europe. You know Mr. Kias U.S. soccer is starting to take off. They are packing them in in California. Next year you wait and see. How are you doing? What’s new with you?”

“I’ll tell you what’s new, Tony. It’s one crazy story. You got to keep it under your hair piece.
Promise?”

“Sure Mr. Kias, you and me.”

"At 7 o’clock tonight, I’m on my way to Louisville, to a reunion of my old outfit. This morning I stop at the Bank and withdrew $500 bucks for my expenses and to do a little shopping in West New York. You know outside of Miami there are more Cubans in West New York, than any other town in the US.

I bus it down to West NY and hop off in front of “Models”. I’m looking for a pair of sneakers. As I get off the bus I slap my back pocket for the feel of my $ 500 dollar wallet.
Damn it! I had done it again. I realize my wallet is gone and it must have fallen on the seat of the bus.

For the third time in thirty years I have left my wallet on the damn bus. Up till now the wallet has always been returned to me, sans money.
My body vibrates with anger, panic and utter disgust. It’s amazing how you can feel three different emotions at one time. I have the choice of two things, one going over to the curb and throwing up and then proceed to bang my head on the pavement, or to chase the bus down Burgenline Ave.

I take off at a speed that makes the roadrunner look like a slow sloth. With my lungs on fire, and the old ticker ready to blow, I am closing the gap. I’m steadily gaining... Thanks to the congested traffic, I finally run down the bus in the middle of the Avenue. I pound on the door until the bus driver reluctantly opens it. Bounding on the bus, I run to the back where I had sat... No wallet on, under, or in back of the seat.

I think it would be kind of stupid, after my frenzied behavior to ask, “Did anybody see a wallet? I glance at the people who are now quietly staring at me. I had checked my pocket when originally boarded the bus. I am mad as hell, but completely frustrated. Someone on this damn bus has my wallet.

Tony has stopped cutting my hair. He is now holding a dormant scissors and comb in either hand. He is on the bus with me.

Just then the driver yells to me. “Hey Senior”, as he holds up the wallet. A shabby old woman that I had rudely brushed past, as I ran down the aisle, has just given it to him.

I rush to the front, grab the woman in my arms and give her one big hug and a kiss. God, I am in ecstasy. I tell her she had saved my life, then I realized she has not understood a word.

It’s time to celebrate, despite her protest; I flip the wallet open to reward her, only to find it empty.

To quote Bill Gates, “Speed is God and time is the devil” It is amazing how fast the brain works in a state of crises. My plan of operation is conceived at a speed that made a Pentium look like an abacus.

I feel I have no choice in what I must do. I am in a no win confrontation with a busload of Cubans and a Cuban bus driver. I feel extremely helpless. I have to take control and right the wrong.

In desperation I snatch the woman’s pocketbook from her grasp and jump off the bus. I head down the yellow line at top speed, the bus driver in pursuit, After running two blocks, realizing the bus driver’s hysterical screams had coursed a posse to form behind him, I top my top speed.
If I can only reach Hudson County Park, where it bordered the Ave., I can lose my pursuers in the thick wood.

I know I need at least a hundred-yard lead. I have two things in my favor, the posse can not make time on the sidewalk, because of the crowd of shoppers, and running on that yellow line, and through intersections, kind of takes the edge off the pleasure of the chase.

God, there it was, the woods. I suddenly realize that there could be no sanctuary there. They would surround it and I would be trapped. They would beat the bush till I was caught.

I could not stop, with a superhuman effort, heart pounding, fighting for air, I run and run. I suddenly realized how Frankenstein’s big friend felt when he was being pursued by all those bastards carrying torches

Finally, I crash out of the Park, into Fairview, hoping I have left my pursuers combing the woods. I continually glance back in search of the dreaded posse, keeping the pocketbook under my shirt, I run down Fairview Ave. I feel as if I’m painted red and twenty feet tall. This is what nightmares are made of.

Reaching my home, I go directly up to my room and rip open the pocketbook, only to find three bucks. There on the dresser, still in the Bank envelope, is my $500 bucks.

Tony, you know what this means. I have to spend the rest of my life skirting West New York. They will always be looking for that stranger, the kissing purse-snatcher, who can run like the wind.

Tony stood there stunned.

“Hey Tony, close your mouth. When are you going to cut my hair? I got to get to Louisville. Keep cutting Tony and I’ll tell you the true story. Everything I told you up until I opened my wallet on the bus was true. The truth is Tony, my wallet still contained the $ 500 bucks. I gave the old lady twenty bucks and stepped off the bus.
“NO, NO, TONY, NO SHAVE!”

Cockroach

2006-02-15T00:05:00.000-05:00

Short Story by VictorM

After a long day working at a client site, on yet another dull city, I was pleased to return to my hotel room for some peace and quiet. After unloading my work gear, I picked up the newspaper and headed to the bathroom. I sat down at the “King’s Throne”, opened the paper and proceeded to get informed. Just then I felt something move.

I looked up from the newspaper to see something crawling on the floor at the other end of the bathroom. Squinting, I could tell it was a cockroach. But not just any cockroach; this was the biggest cockroach I had ever seen. Its large size startled me for a moment. Hurriedly, I tried to get up and walk away, but I tripped on the trousers wrapped around my ankles and fell forward. Just then my head hit the bathroom sink and I passed out.

When I came to I had no idea how much time had elapsed, but I had the feeling it was only a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two. When I tried to get up, for some reason, I couldn’t. I tried frantically to move my arms and legs, to no avail. I remember telling myself not to panic. Just then I felt something crawling up my neck.

Through the corner of my eyes I could see the dark brown insect move up the side of my face and around my lips. I still couldn’t muster any muscular reflex, so I tried to scream loudly. But no matter how hard I tried, all I could manage was a hoarse, muffled sound. Just then I felt the cockroach’s legs on my lips.

The cockroach was pushing its oblong chitinous body into my mouth. I could feel its legs on my tongue and its posterior feelers on the roof of my mouth. The muscles on my neck tensed up as I tried to prevent the cockroach from making its way down my throat. I felt that I wasn’t going to be able to stop it and started to gag. Just then I slammed down my teeth and bit it.

I heard the cracking sound of my teeth crushing through the pest’s shell. Almost immediately I could feel the gooey, slimy bile from the cockroach on my tongue. Its limbs were frantically wagging inside my mouth. With all the force that I could gather I spit the sickening creature across the room. Just then I felt the rest of my body start to respond to my brain impulses.

I quickly got up and ran to the sink to wash my mouth. Cupping cold water in my hands, I pushed it into my mouth repeatedly to rinse away the disgusting cockroach bile. My urge to vomit subsided as the cold water served to revive me. Just then I realized that the cockroach was not yet dead.

I turned around to look for it. All I could see was part of the tail that I bit off and a trail of saliva and bile left by the cockroach. The trail led to my bedroom. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find it. Just then I wondered… do I sleep with my mouth open?

Tags: short, story, squeamish, cockroach, fright, scary, horror, stories

The Journey

2006-02-06T00:01:00.000-05:00

Short Story By: RANJIT SINHA ROY

Kavita boarded the train and in few moments it started to move. She stood on the doorway and waved back at her mother on platform. Kavita felt sad for her. Mother appeared forlorn and lonely. She looked smaller and smaller, as the train gained speed. Then it took a bend and she was not visible anymore. Kavita felt a lump in her throat and her eyes were moist.
Her father died of heart failure when she was twelve. He was the Head of Department, Physics, in the local college and her mother a teacher in the Government Girl’s School. Kavita was in Sixth Standard then.
In absence of father, her mother took charge of everything. She guided her growing daughter, but was not over- strict or puritan. Kavita inherited certain academic qualities of her parents and always scored high marks. She grew up to be a decent, well-behaved, brilliant, attractive young girl, brought up in traditional as well liberal ways.
After twelfth class final, she appeared in the Common Entrance Test and got admission in the Computer Science & Engineering stream in the Regional Engineering College. It was in another town and took about two and half hours by rail to reach her place. She went to mother on every alternate weekend.
Kavita owed everything to her mother. She loved her so much that she decided not to go abroad. She would remain in this country and never leave her alone.
Now three months after completion of Engineering she was going to join her first job in the Hyderabad branch of a US based Software Company. The job was excellent, with good position, salary, and perquisites. She was very happy, but thought of her mother, waving at her, sad and lonely in the platform crowd.
She heard somebody telling her something. She looked around and saw the TTE asking her to go inside. Kavita took the suitcase and looked for a window side seat. Surprisingly, the train was less crowded today. Many vacant seats, but none by the window. She walked further down the aisle. Then somebody called.
“Madam, here is a seat for you”.
The voice was familiar. She turned and saw Pradeep sitting by the window and smiling at her. She went in and put the suitcase under the seat. Pradeep moved sidewise offering her the window side seat.
“How far are you going Kavita?" He asked.
“Secunderabad”
"Why? Anything particular?"
First, Kavita thought she would not tell. Then decided - why not? Let him also know that he was not the only person to prosper, she also had the ability to come up in life without going abroad.
“I got appointment with an IT Company in Hyderabad”.
“Oh really! Congratulations. What is the name of the company?
“Compact Solutions”.
Pradeep was wide eyed for few moments, then brightened with a broad smile.
"Wonderful! When are you supposed to join?
“Tomorrow”.
Pradeep continued to smile. Kavita blushed and felt embarrassed at his amused gaze.
“Where will you put up Kavita?
“You know, I told you once, I have my uncle – father’s younger brother – in Secunderabad. For the time being I shall put up with them.”
“Oh yes, I remember now, your aunty is a nice lady and cousin sister is in third year Electronics. You told me once”.
Kavita thought ‘I told you so many things. Do you remember them? If you remembered, you would not have tried so much to go to the States, leaving me here. You have forgotten the past.’ But she remained silent. What was the use? She looked at the ever-receding landscape.
Kavita thought of the college days. Those wonderful four years. Those beautiful days, they will never come back. Her heart ached for the lost paradise.
She remembered, once, when their batch had gone on a picnic. It was arranged in a semi forest area. There were about forty of them and Pradeep was also there. A bus was arranged for the trip.
After lunch they had sessions of Antakshari(A song competition)and Tambola(Number game). Few boys and girls sang. Kavita and Pradeep sang a Hindi duet. Then some boys started playing cards, some had a nap and few girls sitting in small groups and gossiping. Kavita and Pradeep wanted to have a look at the surroundings. The organizer advised them to return within half an hour to start back.
Kavita and Pradeep reached a quiet spot. Tall leafy trees around a green grassy knoll. A narrow pebbly stream flowed by. Kavita remarked “What a beautiful place”.
Pradeep said, “Let us stay here for ever. We shall build a small hut. I shall collect firewood and you will cook and wash. No more Internet or computers or mouse or virus around”.
Kavita laughed aloud “What a wonderful ‘Love Story’. Come on it is time to go back” Pradeep said, “So you do not want to stay here with me”. He sighed, “Okay, let us go back to the noisy world. “
Then one Saturday evening, six of them – two girls and four boys – went to the local theatre to see a horror and suspense movie. Pradeep and Kavita were in adjacent seats. In a particularly sudden horror scene, most girls in the hall shrieked. Kavita unconsciously clasped Pradeep’s hand and they held hands till the lights came up. None said anything to other. They returned to campus walking, discussing the movie and girls laughing for their being afraid.
Then one evening two of them were returning from the Computer Lab. Midway suddenly it started to rain. They ran and took shelter under the portico of the Chemistry building. They waited for the rain to stop. Then there was a light gust of wind spraying fine droplets on them. Kavita, shivered and wrapped herself with the dupatta(scarf). Pradeep asked, “Are you feeling cold? Come near, I shall make you warm’. And he started laughing mischievously.
Kavita was not amused. She said, “ Don’t be silly.” and started walking alone towards the Ladies’ Hostel. It was still drizzling. Pradeep begged her to wait, and said he was sorry. But she did not listen.
Four years passed and then it was almost time to disperse. Exam over, results announced, provisional certificates issued, dues getting cleared. Then in a weeks time they would leave the college forever and go to their respective places. Then, one evening Pradeep proposed.
He was preparing to go to USA. Both being top ranking computer engineers from a reputed institute, it would not be difficult for of them to get comfortable jobs there. He got the papers ready and now waited for her acceptance. Kavita was silent.
Then she told him about her mother, her conviction. She could not leave her mother alone and go to USA, however much attractive it might be. She tried to explain the things to Pradeep. He listened without a word and when she finished he got up and silently they walked upto the Ladies’ Hostel gate. He said “Good Night” and went away. That was the last they met.
She kept looking outside and felt sad; for whom, that she did not know.
The express train rushed past a small station. People on platform were watching the rushing train. Children afraid of the speed and noise, held hands of their mothers and stared wide eyed. Rail tracks came together and then moved apart. They joined each other again.
Kavita glanced sideways at Pradeep. He was absorbed in a novel by Robin Cook. He stretched his legs under the opposite seat and rested his head behind. He was fairly tall with a lean but strong and bony structure. He looked more an athlete than a computer engineer.
Now it was late afternoon and presently a tea vendor came. Pradeep looked up, put the book down and asked Kavita, if she would like to have a cup. She nodded and he asked for two.
Kavita took few sips and then asked
“How come you are in this train?”
“Why, am I not permitted to travel by this train!” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.
Kavita did not laugh. She continued,
“No, not that. I meant, you should be in US by now. Are you going to Secunderabad to arrange Visa, Air Ticket etc?
Pradeep was silent for few moments, and then smiling and looking fully at her eyes, he said,
“Kavita, I am not going to USA”.
"What! You are not going! Really!” she could not believe her ears. “But why”?
“Kavita, we did not meet after that day. A week later, all of us left the institute and went home. Till then I was determined to go to States. But after reaching home I realized your feelings and finally I decided. Decided not to go.”
Kavita was silent. She looked outside the window. She had a strange feeling as though it was happening in a dream. She turned to Pradeep and asked,
“Why did you not tell me first?" She had a mild accusing tone.
“Because you never asked.” He laughed with a glint in the eyes.
“What will you do now? Tell me why are you going to Secunderabad?” Kavita was eager to know.
Pradeep looked fully at her for few seconds and then with a twinkle in eyes said,
“I have a job offer there and I am going to join tomorrow.”
Her heart started pounding fast. She whispered,
“Where?” In which company?
“Compact Solutions.” He said and then both started laughing.
They laughed so much that tear came to her eyes and surprised other passengers were staring at them. Kavita mildly pushed Pradeep on the side and asked him to shift a little. Surprised he moved few inches away and asked,
“Why, What is the problem?”
“Nothing – you smell”. Kavita was laughing.
“Oh yeah. But I do not know how you smell”.
Kavita pinched his arm and said with a smile.
“You need not know.”
Then they talked about their college days, their batch mates, close friends, the teaching staff and sundry. They roamed around the wonderful four years of rainbow days in the college.
They were talking and talking and slowly it was getting dark and they realised it only when someone switched on the lights. Kavita sighed and said,
“How nice those days were. I shall never forget.”
Pradeep was silent for few moments, then said
“That was one type of life. We were students then, ignorant of the outside world. May be better days are still ahead”.
Kavita was silent and wondered; if only what he said was true. Pradeep glanced at the watch. They would reach Secunderabad in another fifteen minutes.
Silently they sat. Then Pradeep turned towards her and told,
“Kavita, do you remember my proposal? I renew it once again. Give me your answer now”.
“What! Now! How can I tell now! Give me some time to think”.
The train slowed down.
“What is there to think, Kavita. Please tell me now”.
They were talking in very low tone, barely audible to others.
“Okay, Next week.”
"What! Next week! I shall be dead by then."
Kavita laughed.
“Alright, tomorrow in the office.”
The train was entering the platform. All passengers except them were ready to alight.
The train stopped. Kavita got up and took out the suitcase. She asked him to get up. But he was sullen and refused to go.
“I will not get down. I am on sit-down strike”.
“ Don’t be silly. Come on, let’s go”.
“No”
Kavita put the suitcase down, stood in front and pulled him holding both arms.
“You are really a fool! Could you not understand that I have already told you ‘Yes’.”
Pradeep looked up, surprise writ on his face. He muttered.
“Really”!
“Yes – offer accepted, accepted, accepted. Or should I say – I do, I do, I do?”
Pradeep got up laughing
“Thank you, Thank you Kavita.”
They got down. Suitcase in hand and bag strapped to shoulder, side by side, they walked towards the Exit Gate.

The Barber

2006-01-29T00:08:00.000-05:00

Short Story By: Victor M.

Pink Floyd referred to it as a “momentary lapse of reason”. That instance when you make a decision that could lead you into a lifetime of regret; when just a split second makes the difference between harmony and disaster. I faced such a moment while on a business trip to Omaha, Nebraska.

A two-week consulting assignment was extended to six weeks. I decided to stay in Omaha rather than travel back home on weekends. I figured I’d do some sightseeing, only to learn that the most exciting part of being six weeks in Nebraska was watching my hair grow. And it was hair growth that brought me face to face with my “momentary” moment.

Looking through the window of the barbershop next to my hotel, I hesitantly contemplated going in to get a trim. Having been accustomed to haircuts at salons, with shampoo and conditioner, by female haircutters in trendy clothes and funky hair-dos, I had grown to disdain the antiquated and outdated barbershop. Ignoring the “Special on Crew Cuts” sign at the door, I figured how bad could it really be?

I asked the barber if he could give me a trim. “You bet”, he said. “Now?” I asked. “You bet”, he repeated. Nervously, I sat down on this clunky old chair. I cringed when I realized there would be no shampoo. Heck, he wasn’t even going to wet my hair. He started cutting and talking. And talking. And talking. I tried to tune him out but his monotone voice lulled me to a half-dozed off state. The only other sound I could hear were the shears, snipping away.

Snip… snip… snip. “All done”, he said. Somewhat startled, I returned from my self-imposed trance. I put my glasses on, looked in the mirror, and… I almost died! He had given me a crew cut! A freaking crew cut! No more than a quarter inch of hair was all that was left. I asked angrily, “Didn’t I ask for a trim?” He replied, “You bet!”

I lunged from my chair, grabbed his wrists, his right hand still holding the sears that had just destroyed my life. I violently shook his fragile body, spewing every curse word at him that I could think of. As he tried to push me back, I forced the sharp scissors into his face and shoved them right through his right eyeball, sinking them deep into his skull. Blood and white gook gush out while he screamed loudly. I dropped him to the floor, grabbed my coat, and ran out the door.

Standing outside on the sidewalk, I was startled by the sound of the police officer’s radio. “Good morning”, he said to me. I gave him a faint smile. He opened the door to the barbershop and yelled, “Good morning, Charlie. Everything ok?” “You bet”, answered the old man. Breathing a sigh of relief, I was grateful that my imagination had traveled faster than my physical state.

I looked through the barbershop window once again as Charlie was getting ready to shave someone’s hair off. Turning towards me, the officer asked, “Everything OK?” As I started walking away, my overgrown hair waving wildly in the wind, I turned around and replied: “You bet.”