STOP HERE📍 Is My Blog💻 Where I Keep On Updating📥 My Published Written Work.📔 Many Of My Work Have Been Published In Newspaper📰 & Magazines 📖 I Have Also Won Many Prizes 🏆 For My Writing Work ✒
Readers' Comments🎎 Reactions 🎭 Followers🚸 Subcribers🔔 Welcome 📣
Thank You For Visiting My Blog STOP HERE📍 & Thank You Blogger For This Wonderful Platform💐
Authoress📗 SongWriter📙, Blogger📔
$ony KT Mirchandani ✍️
Seven amin the
morning, and Raja pedalled his cycle out of his house, on his way to the
Milk-Booth. Raja was a twenty-year-old milk deliveryman, a school dropout who was trying to supplement his income by delivering milk bags. He was all
alone in this world, with no parents, no relatives. No friends and with no one
to turn to. He lived all alone, all by himself.
🐊
Sometimes the routine of life can break you. To know about Raja's routine, click on the book AMPUTATED MINDS- A STORY TO TELL link.
The shunting of the engine woke up
Muthu from his deep slumber. He peered cautiously out of the coal wagon at his
surroundings.
The
Freight Train stood at the siding yards of Karnal Junction and somewhere on the
Gwalior-Ranchi line. The engine was being replaced for the onward journey. It
was early morning; dawn had arrived two hours ago, and the early morning chill was in the air, with mist hanging in the yard. Birds called out to one another from
the nearby trees.
“The
next stop would be Habra!” Muthu thought.
Years
of travelling on the Freight Trains had turned Murtha into an expert on the
stops where the trains halt. Muthu was from Karnataka, but it made little
difference to the North Indians, for them, he was just another Madrasi. Muthu
was an Indian tramp, a wandering beggar who travelled from place to
place on the Indian Railway. They foraged and begged for food and clothing, and sometimes, if circumstances were harsh, they stole a little. There were
thousands like Muthu, carefree and happy-go-lucky wanderers all over India, and
the only thing these wanderers hated was working. They never liked to work for
a living, but they were the lucky ones, as many people pity them and afford them
food and sometimes old clothes. These tramps feared the railway police and
ticket-checkers, for if the tramps were caught by these two, then they were in
deep trouble as they would be locked up for some time, or worse, made to work in
the Railway yards until they escaped or were let off with a few good slaps and
a warning.
👥
Muthu, the wanderer, the tramp, reached his destination at last. But the question was. What was Muthu's destination?
To know about Muthu's destination, click on the link to the book.
Anupama
peered out at me through fatigue-filled eyes, and there was no recognition in
her brown eyes.
I
froze, looking at her appearance.
Anupama’s natural brown colour, waist-length hair, dishevelled and unwashed, and the green evening gown she wore had stains on them. Her feet were bare, and there were dark circles under her brown eyes, as if she had not slept for
weeks.
“Anu,
it is I Vikram Shah your cousin brother Vicky.” I ventured to look at her.
There
was a flicker in Anupama’s eyes, and she blinked them several times and then
said in a hoarse voice. “Vicky, is it really you, oh thank god, you got my
letter.”
“Yeah,
I received it yesterday, what’s wrong?” I asked.
Anupama
sighed, and a relief flickered across her face. Then she chattered, “Please come in, mama will be so glad to see you.” She caught my hand and tugged me into the house.
I
stepped inside. (Later, when I recollect that moment wryly, I think that one step I took in the house was my fatal one) The house was a mess, and there
was no question about it; things in the drawing room were strewn,
everywhere things lay here and there, and no one bothered to pick or set them
right!
If
I remember correctly from my last visit, the bungalow had nine rooms, the
drawing room led to the three rooms, of which one was a large kitchen, and its
door opened into the backyard and upstairs were the remaining rooms with a
staircase that led up to an open terrace.
“Come
upstairs, Mama is in bed, she is not keeping well lately,” Anupama said, hurrying up the stairs.
I
paced to catch up with her. “Anu, something serious?” I asked anxiously, referring to my aunt.
“Yes,
everything, everything,” she replied
“What’s wrong with Aunt?” I questioned her reply, puzzled.
😱
Something was not right with the people living in MEHTA VILLA. To read the complete story, click on the book link below the book cover.
He received the letter while dreaming about his
new project. The letter had fallen out of the bundle as he sorted out his
weekly mail, and all this time it had been hiding between the mobile and the
transfer letter bill. He picked up the letter from the carpet floor, and his
breath froze, recognising the handwriting on the envelope. It was a slanted
handwriting with every word pressed into the paper. He hesitated, deciding what to do, for he dreaded opening the letter, as he was sure in his heart about
its content. It was time to go back! Time to keep his promise!
🎐
What kind of letter did an ex-gangster receive, and what promise did he make, and to whom?
To read the full 'THE LETTER', click on the book AMPUTATED MIND - A STORY TO TELL link.
He emerged from the small alley that was
parallel to the main road. He strolled, almost moving his legs. He was
exhausted and very hungry. An entire day had passed since he had eaten his last
nourishment, and now his throat felt dry and parched. He strolled on the
footpath, eyeing the shops selling all kinds of edible items, and he spat, his
eyes watering, staring at the food displayed at the shop's windows and out in
the open food stalls and food carts. He licked his lips and smacked his mouth
as he looked at the piled-up, luscious fruits and snacks. As he looked at
the other side of the road, he saw food kiosks lined up like
bogies, and the cooks were busy preparing hot, fast food and serving it to the waiting
customers. Then some restaurants and cafes were crowded with foodies, eating,
drinking and commanding. He was watching people eating, drinking and
ordering, which made him feel a bit dizzy.
🔪
To read the full story, click on the book link below the cover. However, you have been warned to read the book with the lights on.💡
EMPEROR OF ABHOR: A man who hates things around him, and is so blind to his hatred that he wants to destroy everything, including himself.
2:10: Amit Sehgal falls in love with Tanya Gill, and for him, it was love at first sight. But did Tanya Gill hold the same feelings for him? Or was there something about Tanya that he failed to see?
INTERSECTION: The encounter between dream and nightmare.
BLACKWOOD FOREST: A dark secret is revealed.
ILLUMINATION: Krsna Gyawali visits his home and comes back with a secret recipe.
THE HOST: Raj and Kabir, two friends, stop for a night in a local guesthouse ''Kumar's Bungalow'' but to their horror, the night seems to never end.
TWENTY-ONE AND CLUELESS: Vijay Jai Mehta is a 21-year-old boy who has no dreams about his life or ambition till he has to choose between life and death.
THE HARBINGER: A child is born in Northern Europe and will bring destruction to the Jewish race.
THE CONVOCATION: Sambu hated the Pradhan Bogi Lal from his village, Nurpur, and he wanted to kill him. He asked his uncle, Badri Prasad, to help him.
The crescent moon was useless tonight; it was pitch dark all around, and the rain was pouring down heavily, hitting the hard ground vigorously.
″Agggghhhhhooo!″ The agony cry crossed the skyline
and the falling rain attempted to suppress it, but failed miserably as the cry
came once again and this time loud enough to wake up the dead. However, it did
shake up Bali Singh, Zamindar Gaya Singh's personal bodyguard.
Bali
Singh was on his guard post just outside his master's bedroom when the
agonised cry made him stand up with a start, and he rushed towards the open
balcony and out into the courtyard.
It
was dark, very dark, outside the courtyard, and the tall trees planted around it
made it darker. The lamppost inside the courtyard blinked from time to time as
it fought to survive against the heavy rainfall.
Bali
Singh shook his head and was about to turn back when the cry ranted across the
sky again.
″Agggghhhhhooo″
It
was a terrible cry as if someone was in a terrible state of pain.
Bali
Singh squeezed his eyes and tried to see if someone was out in the courtyard, but except for the darkness, he couldn't see anything. He rubbed his chin roughly
while thinking about what to do. Then he thought, 'Should I wake the master or should I raise an alarm?' but nixed both ideas, thinking that if these cries turned out to be nothing serious. He woke up the master over a false alarm;
he was sure going to get his skin whipped apart by the master for disturbing
his sleep over nothing, and just the thought of the thick leather whip made him
shudder.
″Agggghhhhhooo″ the agony cry came again.
Bali
Singh couldn't take it anymore; he wrapped his thick blanket around his
shoulders, picked up his stave and his lantern and was out in the courtyard
within minutes. For a few minutes, he swung his burning lantern around the
courtyard.
It
was dark, very dark, outside the courtyard, and the tall trees planted around it
made it darker. The lamppost inside the courtyard blinked from time to time as
it fought to survive against the heavy rainfall.
Bali
Singh shook his head and was about to turn back when the cry ranted across the
sky again.
″Agggghhhhhooo″
It
was a terrible cry as if someone was in a terrible state of pain.
