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$ony KT Mirchandani ✍️
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.💡
A man was
huddled in the driver’s seat, his body flopped forward against the steering
wheel, and the shaft of the wheel broke and pierced the man’s chest. The
impact must have been terrible, for the man's head was thrown back and his neck
had been broken in many places and dangled to the body with the help of a few
tendons. Blood covered everything and glistened whenever the beam of the torch
fell on it.
“Don’t
look, if you don’t want to. Go back to the truck,” the Sardar said.
Rajesh
shook his head, saying, “No, I’m okay.”
Together
they walked to the other side of the car and froze in place.
Another
man lay sprawled on the ground on his back with his mouth open in a terrible,
silent scream.
Rajesh
flashed the torch over the lying dead man and let out a loud gasp.
Huge
chunks of flesh have been torn and ripped out from the man's face, and a long
gash cut went from his forehead to his chin, with streaks of his blood covering
him.
Rajesh
felt a sinking rumble in his stomach.
“It looks
like a wild animal had attacked this man or maybe wild animals, there are many
in these parts,” the Sardar declared and then looked around as if an animal
would appear from somewhere and attack them.
Rajesh
turned away, saying, “It’s horrible. I can’t bear to see it,”
The Sardar
threw an arm around Rajesh’s shoulders in an understanding manner and then
said, “Let’s go back, well, inform the police about this accident in Hospur.”
Rajesh was
about to say something when a terrifying roar came from somewhere nearby.
“What is that?” he cried out, flashing his torch around in panic.
The very
next minute, something rushed out of the darkness and launched itself on the
Sardar!
“AARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
the Sardar screamed horribly as he went down thrashing.
Rajesh
screamed in terror and looked around for some kind of weapon.
“YEEEAARRRRRRHH,
HELP! This thing is biting me,” the Sardar screamed.
Rajesh
heard a ripping, tearing sound, and then a gurgling sound. He turned round, and
the torch beam fell on the animal. “OH! No, no, no, it can’t be! It can’t be!”
he screamed, trying to flee from the spot when the animal jumped on him.
The Sardar
was dead; his head torn away from his body, and blood flowed out of his neck.
Rajesh
screamed and screamed, his voice sounding far and wide. However, no one heard him,
no one at all in the dark, cold, chill night!
🌒
HOSPUR, a small village where everyone is free to enter, but a heavy price has to be paid for those who dare to leave it!
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.
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.
Malghut was a beautiful village; it had a good, clean, deep beach, the sand golden
in colour. The village lanes were clean and planted on their sides with coconut
trees, which not only gave their thirst-quenching nectar but also shaded the
village from the sun. There was ripening rice in the fields, and the sweet scent
of flowers wafted everywhere. The villagers were a sturdy and hard-working lot;
they also kept their village as clean as possible.
Inspector
Vinayaka took in all this as the jeep travelled over the dusty trail to
Pradhan’s house. They reached the large pond of sweet water, which was refilled
every year with bountiful rainwater.
Two women
were drying some pickles near the pond edge as they chatted.
The jeep
traversed the pond and entered a small lane at the end of which stood Pradhan’s
house.
Constable
Uttar Jeri parked the jeep outside the gate.
Pradhan was
waiting for them in his house's beautiful garden.
Greetings
were exchanged, and sweet lemon juices were offered.
Inspector
Vinayaka took a sip of his ice-cold sweet lemon juice and then turned to
Pradhan and asked. “Well, I believe there is something you want to tell me.”
Pradhan
Shankar Deshmukh nodded his head “Yes, yes, finish your drink, and then we will
go to a place.”
“Where?
Inspector Vinayaka questioned, finishing his lemon juice and keeping the empty
glass on the table.
“To Goral
Maar’s house,” Pradhan replied.
They got
back into the jeep and drove to the other side of the village near the hill
where Goral Maar lived.
I hope this
is something serious, the way Deshmukh is wasting the Jeep’s diesel. Inspector
Vinayaka thought wryly.
They came to
a house set amongst some trees near the road that led the way out of the
village.
“Sahib, this
is Goral Maar’s house, I don’t know if you know him or not,” Pradhan said.
Inspector
Vinayaka shook his head negatively.
“Thought so,
Goral lives here all alone, he has a son who stays and works in Bombay and
he visits Goral once every two years.”
“Deshmukh
Sahib, what is the problem?” Inspector Vinayaka cut in. He was in no mood for
one of Pradhan’s famous long stories.
“Vinayaka
Sahib, Goral has disappeared; he’s not to be found anywhere in the village or
near the village,” Pradhan replied without any further ado.
🔨
Malghut, a small, beautiful village with a secret tale to be unfolded that will never be forgotten by those who will live to tell. To read the complete story, click on the link below the book cover.
I
shone the torchlight on my wristwatch, 2:15: a.m., the watch declared.
Walking
downstairs, I walked into the kitchen and poured some sweet cold water from the
earthen jug into a glass, and I drank.
After
drinking two glasses of cold sweet water, I walked out of the kitchen and was
about to head upstairs to my room, when I heard voices that sounded like
whispering!
I
froze in my tracks! Thinking perhaps some robbers or a thief has entered the
house. I looked around the kitchen and found a long wooden pole. I picked it up,
holding it firmly in my hand, and walked very quietly in the direction of the
whispering voices.
Shielding
the beam of my torch, I turn to a corner. The voices were coming from a room. I tiptoed and pressed my ear to the door, and was shocked to recognise
the voice of Davey and his father.
An
argument was going on between the two of them!
“But
father, it is okay,'' Davey whispered.
“You
are mad; you should have asked me, before bringing him here.” Dinah Pindar
whispered fiercely.
“It
is okay, he won’t know a thing,” Davey said.
In
disbelief, I realised that they were discussing me!
“Davey,
you are a fool, don’t you realise the season will be on us, and soon things
will not be as easy as you think, not with strangers around us? Dinah Pindar
whispered impatiently.
There
was a moment of silence!
I
waited anxiously to hear what Davey would say, and then Davey spoke up.
“If
things do not go as I have planned, I will see to it personally,” Davey said
mysteriously.
I
waited patiently to hear more, but I couldn't hear anything else, and then I heard footsteps; they were coming out of the room.
Quickly, I hide in the shadows!
The
door opened, and they came out. Without a glance around, they walked away.
I
stayed in the shadows, my mind in turmoil! I felt overwhelmed and drained, and
there and then, I decided to leave for Bombay
in the morning.
Something
was wrong here; something was definitely wrong.
👥
There is something wrong with the Sidashan Village. To READ the complete story, click on the link below the book cover.
Idistinctly remember
that summer two years ago when Rajesh and I made plans to visit our uncle,
who owns a house in the countryside. It was going to be a surprise visit, and we
had decided to travel by train. Rajesh was my cousin's brother and the elder
son of my mother’s elder sister; thus, he was a year older than me.
Shankar
Sepal, our uncle, had retreated to the country house after the death of our aunt,
who had retired as a “Senior Editor” of our town’s local newspaper. It had been
five years since he had left for the country, and our visit, in a way, was to be
the first one for him.
That
summer two years back had been very hot and humid, and on one such hot
summer afternoon, the two of us packed our rucksacks and departed to visit our
uncle. In our minds, we were delighted to escape the city's heat for the
cool hills and to the huge house where our uncle lived.
However,
today, when I reminisce about that summer day two years ago, I find a few questions in my mind that remain unanswered.
To Read More, Click On The Link Below The Book Cover.
Suddenly, the taxi halted with a strong brake that woke the passenger out of his sleep, and for a second he looked around him a bit confused about where he was and then, realising he was in a taxi, he looked at Ram Dada and asked, ''Driver, what
happened? Where are we? What's happening?'
Ram
Dada ignored the passenger’s query and took it as a sign from him. Ramesh
quickly turned around, and facing the passenger, he said in a threatening voice,
''Okay, no funny business, hand over all your goods, and mind you, no tricks,''
and pointed a sharply pointed knife towards the passenger.
The
passenger raised his hands and uttered in a dreadful tone, "Please, don't
hurt me."
Ram
Dada turned around and hit the passenger on his head with a fist and said,
''Then do as you're told, if you don’t want to get hurt, and hurry up, else it
will be very bad for you!''
🌒
APPEARANCES CAN COME IN MANY DISGUISES. To read more about the strange APPEARANCES, click on the book BIZZARE TALES.
Milan
felt as if someone was being tortured to death. Then there were thrashing
noises as the dogs came out of the woods heading for the village.
Someone
fired a lighted arrow towards the noise. It struck a small bush, setting it on
fire, and Milan felt as if someone had just squeezed his heart.
As
far as he could see, there were dogs and more dogs, hundreds of them! Snarling
and howling, heading for the village, as he stared in horror, he saw three huge
dogs pounce on a smaller one, biting and tearing it to pieces, turning it to
shreds in front of his unbelieving eyes.
🐕🐕🐕🐕🐕
AAMUR, a strange village with its unusual story. To know more about it. Click on the link to the book 'BIZARRE TALES'
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.
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.
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.
Arvind
Shivpuri breathed out, his chest heaving as he gasped for air; he hated the
life he was living. In the last six months, his life had turned into a
nightmare, and he had started hating everything: his life, his work and his
ex-wife Reema. The hard, cold bitch! Who left him for another man?
“I
hate you, Reema
” Arvind screamed.
“Why do you hate her?” A voice
came, and it echoed around the living room.
Arvind
didn't reply but sat there with a mask of hate on his face, his body drenched
in sweat, and his hands shaking as waves of anger hit him.
“Tell me, Arvind, why do you hate Reema?” the voice
came again.
Arvind
slowly shifts his gaze, his eyes falling on the gun that was lying on the
coffee table.
“So why do you hate her?” the gun
said.
🔫
Arvind Shivpuri, was there something wrong with him, or was something terribly wrong with him?
To find out more, click on the book AMPUTATED MIND - A STORY TO TELL link.
Andy Costellowipes his
face using a wet tissue paper. His eyes are on the signal, anxiously waiting
for it to change, fidgets in his seat as the signal stays red and all around
him, cars honk in protest of the signal, and he too leans on his horn, joining
the cacophony.
Andy
was thirty-five years old, and he was a successful Architect. However, this year
had been the worst year of his life. After a grumbling and abusive seven years
of a non-workable marriage, he divorced his wife, Janet. It had been a bad
marriage right from the start. Finally, it was over as the divorce had come
through last month, and he was happy, not only happy, but relieved; he was glad
that Janet agreed to the divorce without making any nasty scene.
The
Lord knows that he has tried to save their marriage. However, Janet had become
unmanageable. Every day, she picked fights with him over stupid matters, trying
to accuse him of not taking care of her when he tried his level best to make
her happy, yet she kept on complaining about how her life was turning into hell, and she wanted a divorce. Andy was okay with it, too, as he had had enough of her
lies and cries. He thought that perhaps this was a good sign that Janet wanted
a divorce with the full and final alimony agreement. They had no children.
Janet was not comfortable with handling the kids, and though Andy always wished
for it, he could not force her to give him one. Now, he thanks God that they had no children; else, in the fight between the adults, a child would suffer the
most.
💄
Andy Costello's going to receive a special season greeting. To know more about this special seasonal greeting, click on the book link of
Satish
Sharma was a polisher of metals; he was originally from Calcutta, the beautiful
city of many dreams. Two years back, he had shifted to Surat in search of a
better livelihood. The first year had been good; work came his way regularly. Then came the recession, drying up everything: work, funds, opportunities, and
even relations. He searched day and night, but found nothing; there was no work, and everywhere they asked him to wait, to wait until the recession was over. However,
his life will not wait for the recession to be over, nor his body. Soon his
savings were over, but the recession was everywhere, and he could not go back to a
more expensive city like Calcutta and then came the last blow from his flat
owner. Pay more or vacate the house.
👦
Satish Sharma will take that one step forward, but the question is, where would he take that step?
To know about Satish Sharma's story, click on the book link of