THE DREAM

Seema was preparing to sleep by changing the bed sheet and keeping the pillow at the head of the bed and finally tying the mosquito net while her daughter who was watching her every movement, sat on a chair placed near the bed. After all was done, she called ‘Come, Nita.’

But Nita didn’t make any movement, instead she looked at her mother’s face.

She called again ‘Come, Nita, It’s your bed-time.’

‘I don’t want to sleep, mom.’ she said.

‘Why?’ Her mother asked.

‘I don’t want to see that dream again.’ Nita answered.

‘It will not come today.’ Seema consoled her, brought her into the net, switched off the light and went out of the room.

But after a few hours of sleep, the scream of Nita brought her parents, grandmother and brother into the room.

 Nita, on seeing her mother, jumped towards her saying ‘I saw that dream again.’

She described in this way: She heard a noise, which made her to rise from her bed and walk towards that sound. She came into her brother’s room and saw a demon with two horns on his head, chopping off her brother’s head and after that she opened her eyes and screamed.

Her brother, Arun, laughed at her. Her father, Bimal, also added that it was only a dream and it had nothing to do with real life. But Bimal’s mother had some other notion. According to her, the meaning of this dream might be the forecasting of some unpleasant event. She thought of this type of dream was the sign of ill-omen.

The rest didn’t take any heed of her words and went quietly to their beds, but Seema joined her daughter only to remove the fear in her mind.

Next night same thing happened. Nita had the same dream and screamed, bringing the rest of the family into her room and again her grandmother warned them of the ill-omen which was sure to follow soon. The rest of the family was not taking this to be so serious, but the grandmother had decided to take steps to rescue Nita from the imminent danger. After thinking about this matter she made her decision of meeting Swami Dharmananda whom she had heard of and she believed that swami would a way out of this.

Swami Dharmananda came into their house and had a glance around the house, and after looking at Nita he said that there were two reasons for her present condition.

Grandmother asked him as a disciple, ‘What are they?’

‘Only you can save us from this danger.’ She said again.

‘Danger! Danger!’ He suddenly shouted ‘Life is full of danger.’

‘Oh! Is that so? I didn’t know this fact.’ Bimal said.

Swami had a look at him and said ‘I am here to avert the danger’.

Bimal asked ‘Swamiji, you haven’t told us about the two reasons for my daughter’s condition?’

Swami smiled and said ‘I was going to tell that. First of all it is the wrath of Sani Deva.’

‘The wrath of Sani Deva,’ grandmother cried out, ‘God save my child.’

‘What action of an innocent child can make Sani Deva angry, Swamiji?’ Seema asked.

‘You don’t know that sometimes human beings have to pay the penalty for the deeds done in their last birth.’ Swami Dharmananda explained.

Arun asked for his second reason and swami said ‘From her dream I can understand well that the demon is ruling her mind.’

Arun said ‘Now-a-days, human beings are sometimes demon-like, swamiji.’

Dharmananda smiled once again and tried to make him understand ‘This kind of thing is out of your understanding, my child.’

Grandmother asked ‘What can we do to save the child, Swamiji?’

‘The process is little bit expensive. But don’t worry I will try to do it in another method. I  will not be responsible, if this will not help the child.’

‘Don’t worry. You do in your method. Don’t worry about money.’ Grandmother said.

Suddenly swami got angry and he stood up. ‘I am not thinking about money. I am only thinking about this child. You are talking about money. This is my insult and I will not…..’

Grandmother fell on his feet and said ‘forgive me, swamiji, my intention wasn’t to insult you. You don’t know my current state of mind.’

‘I know everything.’ Swamiji said this. Suddenly he became cool and sat down and said to grandmother ‘By performing a puja, I can remove all the calamities in her life.’

Then Swamiji gave a list of materials which should be collected for the performance of the puja and the preparation for a blissful atmosphere for the same. Swamiji said ‘I will come tomorrow.’

After his departure, Bimal talked to his mother, ‘I didn’t expect this from you.’

‘What have I done?’ She asked.

‘What’s the use of calling this swami?’

‘Only to save my child.’ She said honestly.

‘I said nothing had happened to her, but you…’

You will not understand this’ She only said this and left him alone in the room to think about the matter.

Next morning when Nita came out of her bed, she had a singing smile on her lips, which astonished all.

Seema asked ‘What happened, Nita? After a long time, we are seeing you smiling.’

Nita explained ‘I again had a dream.’

‘And you are smiling now. Well, it never happened before.’

‘I had a different type of dream.’ She explained.

‘What?’ Bimal asked.

And Nita started ‘What I saw in this dream could be said to be the concluding part of the previous dreams. That demon had the head of my brother chopped off, but my brother still stood on his feet dancing, which pleased the demon who ultimately kept back the head on his neck.’

BEAUTY AT THE WINDOW

She was in her bed, lying in the blanket, sleeping in the night and dreaming in the darkness, about lights that surrounded her with nature in its full colour which pleased her eyes and finally tears of true happiness rolled down her cheeks.

Her hair, which was kept loose, long and deep black, spread over her bed and some glided down her cheeks, some fell over her face of which one was heedless but the silence of the darkness had witnessed what it had to. Her lips, which had no artificial colour on them, were ruby-like, and her eyelids seemed to be protecting her dreams which she was seeing in her deep slumber. It was true that she was sleeping but her beauty wasn’t. It seemed to be livelier, changing all the time as the time passed evenly.

The sun rose from its sleep. She also followed the sun with a silent opening of her eyes which were now exposed to the light. She seemed to have liked her dream more than this truth. But then she made a little compromise and came down the bed and took a few easy steps to a window near to her. She was then facing the soft incoming wind as soon as she opened the window. Once again a sweet smile filled with happiness appeared through her lips.

Outside, there was a play-ground in which some boys were playing cricket. They were the selected players for the junior team of that locality. A boy named Suman saw her at the window and very soon he lost interest in his practice and sat down to watch her. He found her smiling. He also smiled many times and wished that she had seen his best smile. He then lost her into the room.

Then Suman felt, the very next day, he was taking more interest in her than his game. He saw her standing at the window, with her long hair before her body and she was combing it. She was carrying the loveliest smile. Suman was much determined about that.

Suman was a good cricketer. He was the only batsman on which the team work would depend. It was a surprise to the coach to witness him out of form. Suman looked like he had no interest in cricket and sometimes he played like one who didn’t know how to play.

Dilip, his team-mate, once caught him looking secretly at the girl at the window. Suman had to tell his heart.
‘I am in love with that girl. I want to meet her.’

Dilip looked at him fixedly.

‘I think she also loves me,’ Suman added

‘How can you say that?’ Dilip asked.

‘She has always smiled at me.’

Dilip then said, ‘Forget her. Give your attention to the game; otherwise you will lose your position in the team.’

‘I can’t. You must help me. You live in this same building. So, you can tell her a word or two from me.’

‘Look Suman. She doesn’t love you. And she wasn’t smiling at you.’ Suman wasn’t ready to believe him.

‘The smiles you had seen were the smiles of her personal happiness.’

‘But she smiled whenever I smiled,’ Suman insisted. ‘I saw her,’

‘Leave it. My dear friend.’

‘Why?’ Suman asked, this time he was little bit annoyed.

‘Because that girl is blind,’ Dilip uncovered the secret.

‘What?’, Suman shouted. ‘Blind!’

Suman looked towards that window and found her still in good spirits and afterwards she vanished into the room.

QUEER FISH

It happened when I was staying at Bauria in West Bengal. We were going to Kerala on 31st July, 2002. Our chief worry was about the aquarium. What to do with it? At first we decided to keep it with our neighbour, but it was changed and finally decided to keep it where it was - on my study table. I bought worms worth Rs.2 and just before leaving, put the whole lot into the aquarium, some dry food and dry worms. The main switch was put off and we were off.

Travelling by Madras Mail and West Coast Express, I was thinking about fish. We reached Kannur station and finally home where whenever I ate fish, I was reminded of our aquarium. We knew all the fish would die of hunger, but there is one chance. If they began to take the plants in the aquarium, they might live. But there was none to support this view. All believed that all the fish would die. One even said all the colourful fish would die and become colourless. I, sometimes, agreed with them, but I was feeling that if, however, the fish dined the plants,they might live. I had sometimes imagined that all were floating in the aquarium.

Whatever the result would be, it was certain that we would have to change the water as it had not been changed for three months.

We returned by West Coast Express and Howrah Mail, a local train to Bauria, finally an auto which took us to our quarter. My father opened the door and I rushed in to see the aquarium. We were astonished to find our fish alive except for a Gold fish which was dead and two others, whose dead bodies were never found. They were so small that they might have been devoured by the giants.

I put some dry food into it and all the living fish began to swallow them. To our amazement, none of the plants were touched. The water was as clean as we left it. The main switch was put on and I switched on to let the filter work and the air bubbles rose to the surface of the water.

We could not believe it, so could not the people who had heard it. I wondered about it as I changed the month to August and the day to 21st, Wednesday.

For full 20 days, the aquarium full of fish had stayed on my table, without the motor working and without food.

In May 2003, we sold the aquarium full of gallant fish, as we

had to move to Medchal, near the twin-city Hyderabad and 

Secunderabad in Andhra Pradesh.

Read my other Short Stories

THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA

Strolling alone down the Mahatma Gandhi Road at around ten p.m., I felt I was followed. I turned round and found none. Resuming towards my house, I thought of Shalini who had been the centre of attraction at the party I was returning from. Immediately, I heard someone saying, ‘Forget her’.

Again I twisted round and got nobody. It was just a fantasy I decided and continued to walk, after taking the narrow lane with the trees on either side of it.

A tree showed some movement. And I sensed that I was pursued. There I veered about, to spot there. I could not believe it. I saw a man vanishing behind a tree. He wore nothing more than the clothing that covered from waist to knee. And … And…. I concluded I saw two horns on his head.

Sensing some movement over my head, on the branches of the tree, I looked up to inquire and was successful in discovering what caused everything to draw my attention. It was only a monkey. Nodding my head in utter surprise that I could waste my valuable time in this trivial thing, I paced towards my sweet home, but heard: ‘Wait.’

Even though I felt it all nonsense, I waited I did not know why. There was my home, only a few meters away, but I stood there, waiting, waiting for…..

Once again I sighted a man with two horns. I was compelled to run, not into the house, but far away from it. I was successful in moving away from my house, but not away from the trees. I wanted to dash out of this narrow street to M.G.Road, but I could not get it.

‘You can’t run away like this,’ heard I and I came to a stand, only to spin about and locate that monkey watching me from a distant tree, and that the horned man was approaching me.

The only thing I could do was to distract his attention to the monkey, simply by pointing my index finger violently. I was convinced that it would be enough to save my life, and was stunned, when I fathomed that he was not at all paying attention to the animal and went on advancing towards me.

While endeavouring hard to hasten away, I stumbled to the ground.

‘You can’t run away,’ heard I, this time louder than before. It seemed to be my end, a very terrible end, reflected I and gave up any more effort to flee, and allowed him to draw near me.
‘Don’t be afraid of me,’ he said. ‘I intend no harm’.

‘So you have decided to eat the monkey.’

‘No, I eat no one and nothing.’

‘Then why are you after me? And this monkey?’ I received no answer.

‘Why are you both after me?’ I said, almost shouting.
‘Only I am after you, not it,’ he said, suddenly becoming solemn.

‘Why?’ I shouted, abhorring every part of this suspense.

‘Because this monkey is only the beginning of you’, after a brief pause, he continued, ‘and you are the end of yourself. I am not a man, not a demon, but the god of death. I have only come to take you.’

EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL (PART - II)

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U. A. KIRAN

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EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL (PART - II)

A bank manager was traveling by train. The man next to him was in pain. When asked, he started his story. Two men stopped him with a pistol. He fought with them and got injured. He ran to hide behind a wall where another man had been hiding. When asked, he told his story. He and his friends had robbed a bank and police were after them. In the bank, when depositing money, he saw a beautiful girl and fell in love with her. When proposed, she told she was already engaged. She could not love another man. His friend who was a bank clerk had a story too. He was not happy with the work. He wanted more money and decided to rob the bank. His friend was ready to help. His two friends were admitted in hospital. They had a story. After robbing a bank, their car stopped suddenly. They ran and met a man. One of them took out his pistol. But the man attacked them. The man had told his story earlier to the bank manager whose bank was robbed.

EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL

U. A. KIRAN

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EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL

A man was walking down the street when he heard a cry. It was of a girl. When asked why she cried, she started her story. A thief snatched her purse and ran away. She was returning home after attending her friend's party, with her three friends. One of her friend was sad. When asked, she told her story. She had a younger brother who was not concentrating on his studies. Once while going to school, he met a man who was beating a boy. When asked he started his tale. He was his son and he had caught him smoking. His son was interested in gambling too. He was gambling, when his partner expressed his anger. When asked, he told his story. He had stolen a purse from a girl. But there wasn't anything except a lip-stick, a small mirror and a comb.

MOTORCYCLE

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I do not know whether you would believe it or not. However I believe it to some extent. That day a motorcycle came into my life, in all probability, from the left corner. I did not know how it happened. It might be I was feeling jealous of my neighbour, day in and day out, traveling by his motorcycle while I waited for a bus at the bus-stop. He would roar past me, while I would feel bore, waiting, waiting and waiting for my bus. All of a sudden, I decided to buy a motorcycle and finally got a second hand motorcycle. It was then I remembered that I did not know how to ride it. I began to learn to ride and before anybody could understand what I was doing, as I and the motorcycle were an unusual combination, I quickly reached B.M. – Bachelor of Motorcycling. I was thinking of completing M.M. – Master of Motorcycling – and opening a training centre for the juniors.



As expected by all, I came to know that it was not so easy to ride a motorcycle, and experienced some great falls from the motorcycle. Everybody had anticipated me to give up this dream of riding a motorcycle, especially my neighbour who had started to wear sun glasses even if there were no sunlight to avoid. I know I knew what he was avoiding. Encouraging me, my professor who had done Ph.D. said, ‘You would learn something new every time you would fall from the motorcycle.’



He told me the absolute truth. Later I came to know every time I fell, I experienced pains at different parts of my body. Sometimes red blood peeped out of the flesh. Sometimes skipping, jumping out drop by drop or flowing down my body to kiss the earth to be swallowed by it. My blood vanished into the earth here and reappeared to flow with Indian Ocean, I hoped. Nevertheless we stood still in the field and returned home after winning.



Next day professor said, ‘You have gained enough experience to ride the motorcycle on the main road. Go, brave man, go.’ I looked worried but the professor was confident, exposing his 70mm smile.



I followed his suggestion and tried my best to show all and sundry by the expression of my face that I had full confidence upon myself and was ready to face any danger which might come in my way.



Although I was all alert, the danger struck, most probably from the left corner. Suddenly a dog came before my motorcycle. I turned my motorcycle to an angle of about 40 degree which made the front tyre to go just touching the ankle of a girl; she shrieked, fell to the ground and shrieked, while my motorcycle collided with two bricks, went out of my control, shrieking and throwing me to the ground beside that girl and lay silent. I looked into her eyes while she looked into mine. I thought I would receive good beating from her, with her high heeled shoes. ‘Oh! My god! Save me! Save me! Her shoes have pointed heels,’ I murmured. My whole body with its flesh and bones began to shiver at the mere thought of them. But nothing happened like I had thought. I also turned my eyes from her sharp eyes for there was a great risk of getting hypnotized. My motorcycle did not hurt her much. Blood only peeped out. It had no intention to skip, jump or to flow down her to vanish into the earth. I also told her, ‘I am sorry.’



Next day I again met her. This time there was neither a dog, nor any brick. Her enraptured smile threw me out of my motorcycle to the ground. Blood only peeped out. When she had a splendid opportunity to talk with me, she told me, ‘You have knocked the door of my heart.’ After a brief pause, as I was active in thinking when I did knock, she continued: ‘And I have opened the door’



I had read enough biology but the door of a heart seemed to me a strange fact I had ever come across. She also added, ‘I am in love.’ Almost singing, she repeated, ‘I am in love.’ I wondered she would start to sing the love song from the movie ‘Dhadkan’. But she was not Shilpa Shetty. And I was not Akshaye Kumar. I thought ‘She fell in love with my motorcycle’, as I did not do anything to bring about this type of result. In that accident she liked the delicate touch of my motorcycle. So she did not complain anything.



Smiling and exposing her two broken teeth, she added more, ‘You have not only fallen beside me but also succeeded in making enough place for you in my heart by going into my heart by way of my eyes.’



But I could still remember that I was beside her and had never thought of making a place for myself in her heart. I told her so. But she was not ready to listen to that. I tried to bribe her by offering her an Amul chocolate and simply told her to forget everything. She rejected my offer and surprised me by saying, ‘Amul chocolate is usually given as a gift to someone one loves. I would remember it as your first gift. I would never eat it. I would keep it as your first gift.’



I tried my best to slip out of her hands like a fish caught in the net tries to escape; but I could not. This net was wider than ‘World Wide Web’. Then believe it or not, digest it or not, I found myself trapped in the web of marriage.



We had nothing more on earth to do in our leisure than to roam about on our motorcycle. But the motorcycle did not like the sudden admission of a new partner. Whenever we were going somewhere together, my motorcycle would go for some minutes and then all of a sudden it would stop with a roar of unwillingness to go any further. After that it would need the gentle touch of a mechanic to get it move an inch or start. Many times, my wife would curse herself for not having satisfied herself with the Amul chocolate only. ‘I am going to eat it today.’ she had told me once and copied it several times.



Finally it was decided by me that the motorcycle was to be get rid off as soon as possible. But no sensible person was ready to buy my motorcycle. The buyers would come, have a glance at it and turn their face away from it. It was not ugly at all. Poets could chant their best poems about its physique and their imagination could run wild, wild and wild if they were to write a book about it. It was something else that turned off the interest in the customers. On numerous occasions, I endeavoured hard to turn it on, but failed to find its main switch.



Then I had a plan. A brilliant one, I presumed. I kept the motorcycle with the key on it for the whole night thinking that the thieves would strike. I prayed to god and promised to give him personally a packet of Amul Chocolate, if I were successful in getting rid of my favorite motorcycle.



But in the morning I found it still there where I had left it, unmoved and untouched. It seemed the thieves were also afraid to come near it. I lost my temper now. I thought of throwing it down the cliff. It was not a bad idea. But my kind heart would not let me treat it so badly. It was indeed too bad of me to think about it.



Then my wife, the darling of my heart, while preparing something out of barley, gave me an idea which was brilliant diluted with a little sympathy. She was not aware that I would convert it to an idea when she said, ‘Listen, dear, why don’t you go to the supermarket and buy some things?’ And she gave a list as long as a bamboo tree without any coconuts. Then I realized one would not look for any coconut on a bamboo tree.



I went to the supermarket with my motorcycle and returned without it. I thought while walking home, ‘Bravo! I am so intelligent’. But I was not strong at my heart. That night I could not sleep well as that motorcycle repeatedly came into my dreams.



Next morning I did not take my breakfast as the charming face of my motorcycle was still dancing before my eyes. I even switched off my idiot box which narrated how a motorcycle was stolen from a certain area. Then a police inspector arrived. My motorcycle was with him. First of all he thanked me. When I did not understand the mystery, he stated describing the heroic deed of my motorcycle:



‘We succeeded in arresting a notorious smuggler who tried to escape on your motorcycle while we were after him. The motorcycle stopped suddenly leading that smuggler in our hands. I got your address from a diary found in the box of the motorcycle. Here is your property. It’s fantastic with its problem. Take care. And don’t forget the keys on it while you shop around.’



I was rewarded and got enough money to buy a new secondhand motorcycle. Now what happened to the old motorcycle? Well, I am still trying to throw it out of my life.

Fear Of Defeat

When I was giving a hearing to the morning news on television, the telephone knelled until I greeted it
‘Hello’
‘Hello! Mr. Karmakar’
‘Yes’
‘Adhikari here.’

He who would never talk with me directly, he who wanted to set his foot on my neck and rise up the ladder of success,(the thought of him) was making my blood burning, turning my voice into a fountain of anger.
‘What do you want?’
‘I want you to stop your nonsense.’
‘That’s your own’

And I replaced the receiver. A brief conversation- with my rival, who could think to kill me anytime for success. Our business, common; competition, frequent; fear of defeat, persistent.

Before he could do anything monstrous, I should do something. I contemplated the possible ways and the impossible ways and tried hard to pin-point the best one to throw him out of all.

The news was already over, so I turned my set off. And started towards my office. As soon as I entered my chamber , the telephone , on my table screamed again. Him again.
‘I want to meet you. His tongue sounded harsh.
‘O.K. I too want to meet you.

A place decided. A face to face meeting and all alone. I smiled. A chance , great one, for anyone to be active.

That evening we came together to settle everything. We both were avoiding any resolutions, but were looking forward to something. I was confused, whether he was up to something as me.

At that moment, we heard gun shots. Two? Four? Five?

Then silence.

We investigated and got them who we knew were employed to shed our blood, but finished each other.