Category: Stories

  • Human, after all…

    As she sat in the coffee shop listening to the conversation, she wondered how she had ever become part of this group.. of late, she was trying to avoid them, but she couldnt be too obvious about it.. at present they were all she had..But the sweet syrupy camaraderie sickened her.. because she knew all the backbiting and tale telling that happened simultaneously within the group, not just about the others, but about people within the group too..
    she had become part of the group because she thought they were genuinely different from her previous group of friends..but over a period of time she realised that all said and done, they were all the same within…she was one of the first members of this group, and all the members were personally known to her, for she was the person who brought them in, but she wondered whether any of them would understand if she tried to discuss this with them..
    therefore she decided not to say anything, but gradually move out without too much fuss, and find another set who would be her kind of people, and this time she would be a little more careful about choosing the crowd..but damn, she thought, bloggers were supposed to be different!!
    until next time, what exactly is ‘different’?

  • A New Start

    It was only a few days after the second world war ended. The victorious army marched into the city, the city which was all set to bask in its new found glory under the new regime…the army was tired, from the long march, but more so from the fierce skirmishes with the remnants of the enemy forces… but it had marched on, knowing that this was the dawn of a new era, and that they were about to make history…
    all around them, people lined the streets, eager to welcome the forces that would take control of their country, their destiny, and eager to catch a glimpse of their leader, who was, by now, a living legend… the man who had fought their oppressors in different ways at different times, who had been their prisoner for years.. who had travelled across continents, with one burning dream, that of a free country..and that dream had been achieved, when the enemy had surrendered unconditionally…
    the enemy had been part of a coalition that had called themselves the ‘Allies’ during the second world war, and had been ruling the country for centuries… but the ‘allies’ had been devastated in the second world war, and the man and his army, who had been fighting the allies were now about to take charge of the country… for he was the leader of the provisional indian government that had been formed during the war, and therefore the rightful leader of the now free country…
    while the rest ofthe city blissfully celebrated, a few men huddled together in a small room, trying to chart their future course of action…these men were the working committee of the indian national congress.. the congress which believed that it had done all the hardwork to get the country free, but did not get what they considered their rightful due, not by any lack of effort from their part, but because of the shocking defeat of the ‘allies’..for all of them, their joy at attaining freedom was tinged with a bit of sorrow, but all the more for a certain jawaharlal nehru, the man who would have been ‘king’ instead of netaji, if the die had been cast differently….
    until next time, each different past could have meant a different present…

  • Devil’s Own

    He aimed.. and missed.. damn!!, he thought… his target seemed to have the luck of the devil…perhaps he was indeed a devil incarnate… judging by his actions, that seemed to be very much in the realms of possibility…
    He would have gone about the usual way – a small fire, a building collapse, a small road accident etc to finish his target, but this time the target was too wily, it was though he knew there was someone after his life.. which wasnt difficult to explain… for the target himself was aware that his actions so far would have created a lot of enemies, though few people realised he was behind many terrorist activities taking place in different parts of the world.. he was indeed the devil’s own, created to spread terror and plunge humanity into misery and frustration… and since he realised he was a wanted man,he made sure he didnt travel alone.. he was always part of the crowd, and anyone trying to kill him would also kill a lot of innocent folk.. there was only one being he feared, and though he didnt realise it, he was being watched by him, that very moment…
    Watching the target, he realised that he would have to bide his time.. for he really didnt want to use any method that would harm innocent people.. reworking destinies was a pain, one that he liked to avoid, unless absolutely necessary…He considered using some cop somewhere to finish his target, but realised that no human could match his target… thanks to the devil, some evil men he had to finish off himself… He couldnt afford the luxuries that the devil had, because from experience, when he made some humans extra powerful, he found that it was much easier for the devil to take them to his side..but damn, he was God, he wasnt supposed to miss…
    until next time, do you think He needs help??

  • What goes around…

    He rushed out of the lift, towards his car.. he was running really late for his flight… and it was a flight he had to catch, if we was to go as as far in his career as he wanted to… and he was confident, both about the flight and the career.. for he was an aggressive driver who knew how to have his way in the crazy metro trafic…he zoomed out of the carpark, much to the chargin of two drivers who almost crashed into each other.. in fact one of them still couldn’t get his car under control…he couldnt care less..he was a veteran of such occasions, in most of which he had a direct hand…
    he reached home, still running late, packed, got dressed and while waiting for the taxi, called the airport… the flight was on scheduled time, she said, but a litle bit of flirting made her divulge that the flight might be delayed, because the pilot hadnt reported in yet.. he leaned back, relaxed, more confident than ever before now… but that was shattered as soon as he encountered a traffic jam.. he called the airport, encountered the female voice again, and made sure that the regular check in time was waivered for him…
    but inspite of all his threats to the driver, he was only able to reach the airport 5 minutes later than the scheduled take off, but he was sure that the pilot would have gotten stuck in the traffic, and the flight wouldnt have gone… but he was told that the flight had left on time with a different pilot…apparently, the scheduled pilot had not yet reported in…
    as he was trying to get a ticket for the next flight, the pilot walked in, looking irritated.since there was nothing to be done, he tried to make conversation with the pilot…”i missed the flight too..” he said, smiling..”well, i wouldnt have”, grumbled the pilot, “except that my driver was late. apparently some idiot zoomed out of a car park and made him crash into a median…..”
    until next time, take care, for we cant close all the loops…

  • The Hero

    A small inconspicuous building in a remote island somewhere in south east asia. that was where he was, with a secret burning deep inside… he had flown here in his private jet,to commemmorate the birth anniversary of the man to whom he owed his current status… without that man, he would have been living a small life, in a small island.. not just him, every kid on the island his age..
    the man, who had literally crash landed into their life ages ago, the only survivor of a plane crash.. though he had been very young, he still remembered how they had brought him to the village..he lay in a semi comatose state for nearly 2 years, forever rambling incoherently, in a language the island people didnt know… sometimes he sat bolt upright, eyes shining with a fire that commanded respect and awe….. the fisherman community of the small island tended to him for all the two years…he remembered the day in august, late 1940s, when the man regained full consciousness.. the first thing he asked was where he was, and seemed to understand the location from the rough drawings that the fisherman drew… he also realised that his co-travellers were dead.. however, he managed to confuse all those who asked him who he was..in spite of his condition, and the fact that he was obligated to the village folk, there was an authority in his tone…
    the next thing he wanted was an english newspaper…the fishermen somehow managed to get the newspaper from the town in the next village… he first got to know about the time period he was unconscious for, from the newspaper date.. it quite obviously shocked him, but there was another news in the newspaper that seemed to shock and delight him simultaneously….he asked the fishermen to get all the newspapers and magazines of the last two years they could get.. after he read them, he cried for a long time, and his tears seemed to have quenched something in him, for after that, the fire rarely glowed in his eyes…
    he didnt answer questions about his origin, and to all those who asked who he was, he claimed that he had forgotten.. he stated that the village was going to be his home.. he started a school, brought books from the nearby towns, and taught all the village children – basic englishand maths and the concepts of freedom and liberty, and how to fight against all forms ofoppression…. the man soon became the village’s hero and when he talked about freedom, the fire in the eyes were briefly back…
    He was one of the many kids the man taught… he later went to college and reached a positionin life, few from his village could even dream of… and when he had come back to convey his gratiude, he came to know the man had died… a man who had gifted a future to many.. a man without a past….that was exactly what he wanted to find out…. and after decades of search, he did, and that was the secret… in a land far away, they had made a movie about his village’s hero… it was called ‘Bose – the forgotten hero’…
    until next time, thank you mr.benegal, for reminding us what we have ungratefully forgotten..