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  • soulfulpebble 18w

    The Unlucky Writer

    The Unlucky Writer

    Vinay was busy writing one of his stories for his blog. Being a writer by profession and the author of several bestsellers, synthesizing small articles was a piece of cake for him. He was carelessly sipping his coffee and typing words in the keypad. His phone kept buzzing at every incoming notification but he ignored them and kept writing.
    Tired and finally irritated by the constant disturbances, he decided to check his messages. Among several usual messages, there were about twenty messages from an unknown number.
    Opening the chat, his eyes widened in amazement, "Thanks for creating me father. Although, I need to ask, why did you get me killed by poisoning in the first chapter ? I was a good man, religious and honest. I deserved to live till the end!"
    He was shocked. He hadn't published the novel yet. Nobody knew the story. Who was this guy?
    He decided to reply. "Who are you?"
    The message was delivered but not read.Vinay shook his head and closed his eyes, relaxed on his chair and faded to sleep.

    Few moments later he opened his eyes, picked up his second phone and opened his message. There was a message from this author guy who had fabricated him. He read the message out loud, "Who are you?"

    He smiled. Who are you ? He doesn't even know me ? "I am Rahul, Mr. Vinay." He wrote. "You generated my character in your upcoming Novel. How great of you to create and forget me in month. Wow! You really are a great guy! Anyhow, you will remember me. I am the one who poisoned your coffee today." He inserted a smiling emojii at the end.
    He looked up at the sky and started laughing with a sly, devilish and victorious smile on his face.
    ©soulfulpebble

  • soulfulpebble 18w

    The Rich Boy

    Ayush was lying down comfortably on his warm bed on one winter's night. Thick, soft and velvety quilts covered him. The room heater was emitting mild heat which felt like a warm hand on his already relaxed forehead. A soft smile adorned his face. He was relaxing after spending numerous hours in office ending with a successfully signed up business deal.
    He took a deep breath and exhaled peacefully. He felt thirsty. He got up and tried to reach his water bottle sitting at an arm's length from his bed. He couldn't find the water. It was supposed to be there. "Such irresponsibility ?!"he sighed. "Ramesh? Ramesh?". He shouted. "Fetch me my water."
    "Shut up you pathetic psycho," said the guard outside cell 144. "This one thinks he is a frigging millionaire."he told the new guy on duty and slipped a glass of water from the small window.
    Ayush drank the water with a sweet smile and returned to sleep on a cold and shabby metal framed bed shivering under the thin, worn and unwashed blanket.
    "Thank you God for all the blessings,"he said and went to sleep.
    © Tuhinanshu Mishra

  • soulfulpebble 19w

    The Betrayal

    Shivi went camping along with some friends. It was night and the forest was cool and dark. They lit a fire and sat in a circle singing songs and laughing hard. Everyone was in a jolly mood.
    Their heads turned all of a sudden towards an unnatural shrill echoing from somewhere in the forest. It was definitely a woman's voice.
    Shivi jumped and caught hold of her torch and trekking stick. "We should go and check", she said looking up at others.
    "Are you nuts ?" said Aryaa. "Haven't you seen horror movies? You are supposed to hide in situations like these."
    "Yeah you guys can keep chickening out. I am going!" She jogged towards the sound. Aryaa and the others followed reluctantly.
    Shivi went towards the voice and finally reached an old tree with drying branches and thick stump. There it was lying at the foot, an audio player, the source of the sound. She bent down to examine it and suddenly felt a hot and extremely painful sensation in her back. "Die bitch." It was Aarya's voice. "How dare you look at Rahul? Sleep around with demons in hell now."
    There were three more stabs and Shivi was down on the ground on her belly gasping for breath drenched in red.

    ©soulfulpebble

  • soulfulpebble 60w

    The IAS aspirant

    He was a young boy of four,
    When his father developed brain tumor,
    The doctors said there was no cure,
    He heard his relatives discussing the rumour.
    He didn't understand what was death,
    Of course he was so small,
    He had no tears to shed,
    when death took its toll.
    Growing up became a disaster,
    He was overcome by responsibilities,
    Him and his mother,
    Had nothing they could call facilities.
    One day while returning from school,
    He saw a white car stop,
    and a man came out of it,
    He was looking very smart.
    He was accompanied by a crowd,
    of people carrying guns,
    He asked his mother what was this about,
    and this is where his story begun.
    His mother told him slowly,
    This was an IAS officer,
    His job was to protect me and you,
    and make the society better and quieter.
    He was very much impressed,
    how a man could do this all for the society,
    when he couldn't help his own mother,
    to get out of his father's death anxiety.
    He sworn a secret promise,
    to his mother and himself,
    that he would become like that man,
    and help the country itself.
    He started working harder,
    from that day one,
    he stopped looking thereafter,
    to anything or any means of fun.
    And slowly the boy became a man,
    of mere twenty two,
    He had graduated from a college,
    and still was preparing with zeal huge.
    Everyday he remembered,
    his long lost father,
    His study routine consisted,
    of working harder and harder.
    Finally the examination day came,
    and he was ready and prepared,
    but during the exam time,
    he was feeling very scared.
    He came out of the exam hall,
    looking very disappointed,
    he mother was waiting at a tea stall,
    and she was smiling softly.
    He told her it didn't go well,
    and he wouldn't qualify,
    She said it didn't matter,
    She was sure he would next time try.
    and so the journey began,
    testing the young IAS aspirant's skill,
    for he was nothing but a man,
    of strong enough power of will.
    He kept studying hardly,
    for another five years,
    and seasons changed slowly,
    he went through illness and fevers.
    Ultimately he broke through,
    the prestigious test,
    his mother couldn't limit her zeal to,
    anywhere and happiness filled her chest.
    Everywhere there was a talk,
    that the fatherless boy,
    qualified the IAS exam,
    and brought his mother pride and joy.
    The press reporters took appointment,
    to interview the young man,
    Now he was man of reputation,
    and everyone tried to lay on him their hand.
    One day as he was travelling,
    he saw the same IAS officer,
    walking alone on the street,
    whom he had seen once returning from school after.
    He told his driver to stop the car,
    and walked fast to stop the man,
    he wanted to thank him,
    for inspiring him and so he ran.
    Finally he caught up with him,
    and on facing him ultimately,
    he said ,"Sir I am so thankful to you,
    for shaping my furure brightly"
    The man was taken aback,
    On hearing these words,
    He said,"Have I done anything wrong?"
    and slowly he wiped off from his forehead some dirt.
    The young IAS officer laughed and said,
    "Sir about twenty years ago,
    I saw you travelling with police,
    I was inspired by you" he said with a bow.
    The man was confused, he said twenty years ago,
    I was a escaped convict,
    I used do dishes and wash clothes.
    and spent my entire life in jail.
    The young IAS officer,
    lost his own breath,
    he was not even shocked this much,
    by his own father's death.
    He let the man go,
    and started walking slowly,
    towards his car he went,
    and smiled at his mother's wit gradually.
    So friends, this was the story,
    of a young IAS aspirant,
    we learnt from this actually,
    that for succeeding we shouldn't say 'I can't".
    We can take inspiration,
    from even a small ant,
    and become ourselves,
    one hardworking aspirant.

    Thank You. Please share your views in comments if you liked it.
    ©soulfulpebble

  • soulfulpebble 60w

    Schizophrenia

    She was laughing alone,
    in a dark dark room.
    Murmuring abuses to,
    everyone she knew.
    Her condition worsened,
    day by day,
    and people thought,
    she'd been possessed by Ray.
    Ray was her husband,
    who died in an accident,
    after his death,
    all crazy she had went.
    Her family took her,
    to the nearest church in town.
    The padre consoled them,
    She would be cared like their own.
    They tied her to a chair,
    and sprinkled holy water,
    while she was laughing,
    uttering words, that nobody taught her.
    What was this insanity?
    the observers wondered,
    Had she lost her humanity?
    A thought in their minds wandered.
    Then she vomitted heavily,
    Oozing blood all around,
    the crowd around her just watched,
    making no sound.
    Finally she couldn't make it,
    through the exorcism,
    the padre told everyone,
    and they all cried in rythm.
    I wonder now,
    Could she have been saved after,
    If the family took her,
    to a qualified doctor?
    For the sake of optimism,
    I still want to believe,
    there is scope of such patients,
    for their sanity to retrieve.
    If only people,
    applied some logical mind,
    We could save a lot,
    people of such kind!
    ©soulfulpebble

  • soulfulpebble 61w

    Cart-puller

    Saw a colourful cart being pulled by a motorbike while travelling. It was very obvious for one to get attracted to the beautiful colours painted on the cart. It reflected nothing but the dreams attached to the vehicle.

    Who knew how much the cartpuller might have been relying on it to make his both ends meet. Still there was optimism. A hope that someday something incredible will happen in his life that maybe his son/daughter will qualify an exam, get a job and that he will peacefully retire from his own job or maybe just a simple desire to get his daughter married and live long enough to see her settled life.

    The point that we learn from this is that even if we don't know what will happen in our lives yet we are supposed to grind and grind with the limited resources we have to achieve the maximum out of it.

    Atleast that's what I inferred from it.

    After three years, since I saw that, in one corner of my heart, I still hope that maybe the cartpuller has fulfilled his dreams by now.
    ©soulfulpebble

  • soulfulpebble 61w

    Time

    Time. I wish I could control it, put a stopper over it or maybe atleast slow down its flow but the sheer untameability of this clock pulse is like the fuel that keeps the world running.

    The system is built upon one uniform belief that maybe the sun shall set, the goverments shall fall and rise, countries shall perish, seasons may change and even continents and oceans shall move their places but time is uniform and absolute. It's flow is perfectly well predicted. That is why we can trust time.

    That is why a routine built specifically around time will prove to be worthy.

    I do not even dare to ask to myself questions like existence before beginning and after the end of time because great minds like Stephen Hawking have tried to build a fuzzy logic behind these concepts however, very timidly, I can just state that we will not live forever to see what happens to time but time will surely exist to see what happens of us. It is an entity that is larger than human life, than planets, galaxies and maybe the universe itself.

    I think this gives us an apt reason to respect time and try to abide by its rules.
    ©soulfulpebble