Tag Archive: Fiction


The Pious Man

Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava always went for a morning walk at 7:30 everyday in their locality. Their walk commenced from their house crossing the street outside to the adjoining street. From that street a turn around the corner passing the local school and another turn passing the local temple. The walk ended at a park where they spent the next one hour before returning home. Ever since Mr. Srivastava had retired, this was their daily routine.

That tuesday too they were on their routine walk. While approaching the park Mr. Srivastava noticed a young lad, bare footed walking in the direction of the temple. He was dressed in a semi-formal attire, half sleeve white shirt which could be worn both for office and casual use and a black trouser with belt.

“Strange” Mr. Srivastava remarked. “What?” asked Mrs. Srivastava.

“You see that man walking towards the temple. I have seen that lad quite a few times in our previous walks, everytime he is dressed reasonably well but walks barefooted.” said Mr. Srivastava. Mrs. Srivastava just nodded in acknowledgement, “Yes, strange indeed.”

The next day again, during the walk, the young man was passing by, when Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were entering the park. Regular faces now, he gave them a smile as a sign of greeting. Mr. Srivasatava couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked him, “ Hello, young lad. What’s your name?”

He said his name was Ramesh. A casual conversation ensued, in which Mr. Srivasatva got to know that Ramesh was new to that locality, having arrived from his village a few days back and was presently searching for a job. Mr. Srivastava asked where he was headed to and he said he was going to the temple. As the conversation continued, Mr. Srivastava asked him why he was going bare footed.

Ramesh smiled and said that he had resolved that he would start his day by going to the temple barefooted and praying for a job as well as a  good daily wage for that day. This was his “mannat”. His day went really well and he able to make ends meet due to this, he said. Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were moved by the young man’s firm belief in God.

“Such a pious man !” Mrs. Srivastava remarked as they saw Ramesh walk away towards the temple.

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Ramesh entered the temple. He went towards the idol and prayed to God, “Oh Lord, forgive me and bless me. Please provide a good ‘branded’ product today.” He bowed and offered Rs. 2.5 in the ‘daan-peti’.

Ramesh stepped out and saw the footwear lying outside the temple. Chappals, Sandals, Shoes.. all were there. He noticed a seemingly new pair of “Nike” sneakers. They looked expensive.
“Good Brand ! Thank you Lord !” he remarked and smiled. Silently he wore those shoes in the most casual manner and left the temple. Today too he will earn his daily bread by selling the shoes and also add some money to his savings for a change…

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Seated in the library, a writer tried to write,
Trying to define his existence, with a struggling attempt to set things right,

He tried to rectify the errors of his past,
Though he was short of time, in the few moments that will last!

He tried to write a tale too long,
Lost track in-between, wrote it all wrong…

He had new beginnings, he faced the same end,
A broken tale with nothing to mend

Fragments many, of a life gone by,
Turned to fiction, truth woven in a thread called lie

Of a wanderer at heart, that he always was,
Wandering on random ways, left with no purpose!

With memories left to be forgotten someday,
As he walked on, on his broken way.

Many twists and turns were still stored in fate,
It seemed to him he was life’s favourite bait!

Back to the question, of what to write,
The writer pondered a lot, but nothing seemed right!

His words were empty, a tale with no track,
The end was an irony, a meaningful conclusion it lacked!

He wrote of days long gone…
Of memories many, remembered by none…
Of friends he met, and foes he made,
Tattered glimpses of a past, that will soon fade !

Of long talks…over matters non-trivial…
Of excuses to meet for workings unreal..
Of a rose not given…of a sentence unsaid…
Of a call unconnected…of a letter unread…
And so the tale, went on and on,
Of random moments turning to memories to be retold later in some song!

Of love, or what he believed love was,
A random verse, to explain his loss,
Of random twists in tale, to set things wrong,
Indeed, his tale was turning too long !

He faced highs, he faced lows,
A murky life full of emotional blows
To give him support was his favourite quote,
Life’s Like That… he always wrote !!

Faraway

Take 1 – Year 2001

He relaxed once he had boarded Flight 77. 5 years back he had arrived in Washington, with the hope of having a decent job. But destiny awaited something else. He was now a classified thief but had no regrets. Soon he will be faraway from the clutches of the law. He was heading off to Los Angeles from where he will catch a flight to India. The DC Police will never find him in a random village of India. He will assume a new identity, buy land in partnership with landlords he had heard of and live a life of ease. He will soon be faraway from them all.

September 11, 2001 would be the day of his freedom.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Take 2 – Year 2008

He landed at the airport. Freedom at last. Soon he will be faraway from the clutches of law. In three days he will leave Mumbai and the DC police will never find him in a random village of India. His friend will meet him in a high-class hotel, ready with the dollars he had stolen converted in Indian rupees. It was a tough scam, but success was achieved. He was rich and faraway from law. A new life awaited him ahead. He caught a cab and reached his hotel. So far so good. “Welcome Sir, your room is ready, please sign here.” The fake passport worked. He signed the register.

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The Taj Mahal Palace Guest Register
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26/11/2008 – Peter Williams

"The night before Christmas"

The night before Christmas:

Having completed my Christmas shopping I decided to have a coffee at the cafe.
The person at the counter said its about closing time, but I could get my coffee before that.
I notice a small kid closing the glass door and putting up the “Closed” sign.
While leaving I saw a man in Santa’s suit approaching the cafe…an old man returning from a day’s work at some mall.
The kid seemed excited, so the owner overruled the closing time for the old man.

Christmas morning:

I read the newspaper to see who won the best dressed Santa contest.
Something else caught my attention :

“Santa robs cafe, owner and son injured!!”Santa