Sins of mine
Are they there to
haunt me
And destroy
my inner self
I try to
stop
But to the
devil
I am in
debt.
๐
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Sins of mine
Are they there to
haunt me
And destroy
my inner self
I try to
stop
But to the
devil
I am in
debt.
๐
Ronnie
rides his bike
He
is riding on the free highway
Summer
sun shines
On
his golden hair
His
blue eyes
Looking
out for a signboard
Saying,
‘Welcome Home.’
☠️
My name is Alfred Harold Hill. I am a
cartographer for the British Army, Highland Rangers, and XXV Company. And I am
dying. I am writing this journal to preserve my identity and to let others know
what happened and what we went through. I have no idea how long I can write, as
only a few candles are left and the inkwell is half empty.
It is November 12th of 1891, the year
of our lord. Outside the log cabin, a snowstorm has roared for the past three
days. There are four to five feet of snow all around, the passes and routes
erased beneath the relentless snowfall. I have tried to escape the log
cabin only three times, only to turn back, defeated by the snow.
I am 24 years old, my rank is first Lieutenant and it seems like yesterday when we journeyed from the army camp at Dehradun, three months to this day, a Platoon of thirty-five men and with me, and I am the last one remaining, the others dead, or as the Bitak would say, ‘Lo sall Jo kumi haar Jeenu.’ disappeared into the arms of the Jeenu.
๐จ
Alfred Harold Hill's story is a mystery that will remain unsolved. To know more about 'JEENU', click on the link below the book cover of 'SHOOTING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES'.
SHOOTING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES
Iztak Salal knew that he must do his
work very quietly, very patiently; he must not draw any attention to himself or
to what he was seeking. The book, which he carried in a bag, was slung across
his chest, and he could get himself killed if seen by the right eyes. It was a
book of medicine, an ancient book, but written for Ayurveda, written for
Hinduism, for the knowledge of Hindus only, and he was aware of how Hinduism
functioned.
The Hindus were a tight-lipped people, hardly sharing anything with those around them or with the world at large; sharing knowledge was the last thing they would ever dream of. For them, Islam was not only a strange religion but an aberration. Somehow, in many ways, in things big and small of daily life, they tolerated Islam; for one thing, Hindus were known for their infinite and world-weary patience.
Iztak Salal knew that if not for the book
he had found, their paths would never have crossed. But now he must cross that
wide chasm between the two religions.
☸️
Iztak Salal was a practitioner of the ancient medical science known as Unani, and he, along with his childhood friend Rahim Shah, was travelling in search of Moksha.
To join Iztak Salal and Rahim Shah in their journey, read 'SHOOTING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES'
SHOOTING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES
Dinesh nodded his head silently, then he gazed at her. 'How are you, by the way, we haven't spoken for a couple of days now,' he said.
'I am glad you are noticing things,' Ritu replied tartly.
Suddenly, Dinesh stepped forward and held her hand, 'Ritu, you are mistaken about a few things, I have always...' but before he could finish, the blue sirens went off with a loud clanging sound. There was suddenly some kind of eruption.
'Dinesh, what is it?' Ritu cried out in alarm.
'Ritu, I think the patient is haemorrhaging, if I am sure,' Dinesh answered, sounding a bit confused.
Before Ritu could answer, the alarms started blaring.
‘CODE RED CODE RED CODE RED’
'We must leave here now, find the rest of the team,' Dinesh suggested, his voice panicking.
They held hands and rushed out of the cabin into the pathway that led to the ‘EAT’ section. They had taken just a few steps when what they saw seemed to freeze their blood.
A sea of red was moving towards them. It was a flood, a flood of blood. Red blood!
The alarms blared on. ‘CODE RED CODE RED CODE RED’
☠️
When things get out of control, the best medical brains just stand and watch helplessly.
SHOOTHING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES- GET YOUR COPY TODAY!!
SHOOTING MR SUMMER & 7 STORIES
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.
๐๐๐๐๐
AAMUR, a strange village with its unusual story. To know more about it. Click on the link to the book 'BIZARRE TALES'