Your Micro Story
Again that baby’s laughter echoed clearly in my house, disturbing the tranquility that was only possible in the dead of the night. I took a huge gulp of my whiskey and grumbled…..“Shut up, you evil spawn.”
It did not stop even after I showed my anger and it kept laughing at me.
Today her laughter felt even more sharp and sarcastic. I disclosed about it to a friend. He laughed saying, “Who doesn’t like the sound of a baby’s laughter?”
Well I don’t. Since the time my wife gave birth to that rascal. My father told me never to believe a woman. He said, “Son never believe any daughters of Lilith,” and then he had emptied the entire frustration on that bitch of mother, when she tried to run away from him. So, I like my father as he always wanted a son but alas!! That demon ruined my life. So, I did what my father taught me, got rid of them.
The clock struck 3, ding ding ding. And this time the laughter does not end, it keeps going on and on and I feel a pair of ice cold hands clamped around my neck.
by Manali Dey
আজ দু বছরের উপর আমার ডান ঊরুর নিচে থেকে পা পর্যন্ত জ্বালা করে।
অনেক ডাক্তার, বৈদ্য, কবিরাজ দেখালাম তেমন কোনো লাভ হোলো না। হাসপাতাল
থেকে এক অল্প বয়সী ডাক্তার তো বলেই দিলো ,”অপারেশন ছাড়া এর কোনো ওষুধ নেই।”
আমার বয়স এখন ৭৪ বছর। কয়েক বছর আগে আমার bypass সার্জারি হযে গেছে।
অপারেশন তেমন কোনো ভয়ের মনে করি না। অপারেশনে আমি ভালো হয়ে যাবো এই
গ্যারান্টি যদি কেউ দেয় তবেই আমি অপারেশনে যাব। নইলে অবস্থা যদি আরো
খারাপ হয় আমি একেবারেই অক্ষম হয়ে যাব।
সে গ্যারাণ্টি কেউ দিলো না।
অন্য স্পেশালিস্ট ডাক্তারের পরামর্শমতো পুরোনো x-ray আর MRI রিপোর্ট সহ
Diagnostic ল্যাবরেটরি তে যাই।
x-ray হয়ে গেছে। আমাকে পাঠানো হোলো নিচের ফ্লোরে MRI করার জন্যে। এসে দেখি
লম্বা লাইন। রুগীদের অপেক্ষা করার চেয়ারে বসে চিন্তা করছি এখন কি করি ?
কালো ব্যাগটা খুলতে নজরে পড়লো আমার পুরোনো x-ray রিপোর্ট তো ল্যাব থেকে
আনা হয়নি !
লিফটে চড়ে বসলাম। ল্যাবের দরজা খোলার আগেই সামনে দেখি এক জোড়া আমার
চপ্পলের মতই চপ্পল পড়ে আছে। ভালো ভাবে চেয়ে দেখি যে এ জোড়া তো আমারই
চপ্পল জোড়া! পায়ের দিকে চেয়ে দেখি আমার পায়ে ও তো চপ্পল নেই!
x-ray রিপোর্টের সাথে আমার চপ্পল জোড়াও ফেরৎ মিললো।
~~ Shree ~~
Dan met Nancy in a cocktail bar that night. It was pretty late and Nancy was getting drunk at the counter, blabbing away to strangers. She stank of perfume and vodka. She swooned this way and that, as if on the deck of a storm-swept ship. Then she spotted Dan and yelled in his ear,
Dan looked at Nancy and asked, “Me?”
Nancy was struggling to talk. “Yeah, you! You know what? You are the most handsome man in this bar. Would you buy me a drink?”
For some reason Dan could not deny. Dan ordered the drinks and they both drank like that there would be no tomorrow. They could hardly hear anything, just the sharp stink of vodka and the perfume prevailed. Nancy almost passed out by then. A number of people loitered around, shouting and screaming. When Dan managed to burst out the doors, he realized that a fierce storm had passed by. Water logged on the streets, few roofs were ripped off in the vicinity. The road was haunted with some drunks and a couple of weird-looking cab drivers.
Dan somehow dragged Nancy into a cab and took her to the room in his motel. Unable to stand any longer they both hit the bed. Silence loomed for a while before they attained their heights of passion. The storm swirled up again, hurling the sheets away from their semi-nude bodies. The other inmates of the motel panicked up and down the stairs, as the storm rampaged through the town.
Somewhere in the midst of that Dan wondered about the perfume and the vodka. He muttered to her, “Did you put on the vodka and drink the perfume?” She giggled and slurred, “Yessss!”
Nancy had the kind of figure to die for, full of secrets, bright with life. Her lines and curves, squiggles and swerves kept Dan in motion all night. Finally, he fell asleep towards the dawn without caring about the storm.
He woke up in the afternoon with a heavy head, not quite remembering what happened the night before. The storm was over, life was returning to normalcy. The local newspaper was pushed into his room, through the slit under the door. The headline was that of a popular bar dancer of the town died in a motorbike crash, drunk, during the violent storm the evening before. And the wildest part was, the newspaper smelt of vodka and the perfume Nancy wore!!
~~ Houston, Texas ~~
~~ July 2017 ~~
Ting tong! The door bell rang. Disgusted Mr. Menon opened the door.
An online food delivery boy entered, he was surprised to see him, as Mr. Menon isn’t that tech savvy neither he could order food via online.
Delivery Boy – “Hello Sir! Would you please do a favour and receive the food ordered by your neighbour Mr. Gomes!”
Gomes resided next door to Menon and both being widowers used to live alone. Menon knew that Gomes was out of station for last three days and he was supposed to return that day. But why this kind of favour was asked from him? Menon tried calling his neighbour over phone. But it was switched off.
“Sir, according to his last call he was on his way back home and his mobile’s battery was about to get exhausted.”
Menon received the hefty food pack on Gomes’ behalf. He waited till late night for Mr. Gomes, result being a bit high over lonely drinks. Free treats are always irresistible. Menon opened the well packed food when the chance of Gomes’ return was almost nullified.
A loud bang on the floor! Menon collapsed discovering the decapitated head of Gomes wrapped within the aluminium foils.
by Susovan Kanjilal
The Lost Hawk
By Saurabh Pant
Wind ruffled its wings as that majestic powerful bird rose high and
high circling around small groups of rabbits identifying its unique
pray as a routine office visit.
One heavy swoop and all dwarfs dodged to survive, yet the weakest
couldn’t dodge at the perfect time and became the tasty dinner of that
unique boss, who had the habit of hunting out for one worker out of the office
for daily purpose.
Yet, it’s not able to search those unworthy bits of group as he did
before to survive for its own cause, as it has started to become old
and stopped to visit the office, so someone else has become the boss.
The two leader face each other in that blowing wind without any noise
coming loud so the younger hawk tore the senior’s head apart to
snatch the legacy away from the legend to continue swooping small
groups of Rabbits.
Fear washed all over as the Sky grows bloody red and the old hawk died
without giving any signs of the lost battle and no wisps of hope
remain aware of it’s diminished body;
It was announced in the Hawk community that the legend is missing and
we should call him the Lost Hawk from now on, yet the power has been
changed and fear now spread in both communities to live and survive
amongst a new dictator at large…
By Pinaki Ghosh
Some people believe that every one of us have our exact lookalike living somewhere on earth and at least once in our lifetime we are likely to come face to face with our exact lookalike. People looking exactly alike are termed as doppelgangers. Being a non-believer, I laugh at stories like these.
However, I met my doppelganger, or exact lookalike not once, but twice.
First time I saw him was in 2009. In those days I had quit my job and was struggling to make an earning out of writing, and trying to silence the mouths that criticized me for my decision to quit my job. I had come to meet a client who, after having circumnavigated earth in 69 days, wanted my professional help to write his biography. Biography notes taking sessions are usually boring and dull. After such a 6 hours boring session, I considered lucky to get the last subway train from Park Street. The last train looked empty and I considered myself even luckier to get a seat.
It was then that I looked up and saw him sitting exactly opposite me, looking straight at me. He was taken aback as much as I was. He looked a few years older than me, with a beard and moustache (I am clean shaved), but looked like my mirror image. Our attires were different. I was in a black tee, denim and a red cap and he was in a black suit and white shirt, looking rather formal. He had a frown, looking at me. I do not remember how long we had been looking at each other. Maybe two stations crossed, before I did something unusually smart. I took out my phone (rather crude stuff compared to phones of today) and clicked his picture. After the train crossed Shyambazar, a large and noisy group of members of a political party, probably returning from a political meeting, filled up the compartment and I could see him no more.
I thought of him for days, weeks, months and never got a satisfactory explanation to myself why we would look so much similar. He was as if my twin brother, though he certainly looked slightly older. I had even blown up the photo I had clicked and observed minute details of him. For example, the phone he was carrying had a logo showing OPPO. I had Googled the name of the phone brand but it came up with no results. Aparently Google had no information about the brand.
Gradually as years passed, and I got busier with work, this memory started fading away. I thought less about this chance encounter with my doppelganger and after years, when this memory came back to me, I explained myself, I had probably fallen asleep in the last train and had a dream.
Seven years passed after this incident.
Year 2016. I had thrown my birthday party in The Park. I was a bit startled when my cousin Tua gifted me an Oppo phone. I thanked her profusely. Something flashed in my mind for a fleeting moment. After we stepped out of the hotel, my driver complained of pain in his stomach and left. I had no option but to leave my car in the parking of the hotel and take the last subway train back home.
It was then that I saw him the second time.
He sat exactly opposite me in the empty subway train, looking straight at me. He looked like my exact photocopy; only about several years younger… seven years younger, to be precise He did not have beard and moustache; unlike I have grown now. He was in a black tee, blue denim and red cap. I was in a white shirt and black suit. I realized I was having goosebumps. A scene I had seen seven years ago was replaying before me; only the positions of the two people have changed. I was in the opposite seat seven years ago; and he was in my position. Or, are we the same, only separated by seven years?
Survival of a Heart
I know I’m at fault. I also know that you’re angry at me. In fact, you’ve all the right to do so.
Before you stop reading it thinking that it’s just one of those apology letters, I want you to continue reading it, and if it interests you, read it till the end.
I never wanted to do it but circumstances made me do so. I even now regret doing it. Even though acceptance isn’t always the biggest repentance, but it makes one less of a sinner and I accept that I did it under no peer pressure or obligations and it was solely my own decision.
I neither blame the refrigerator for cooling things too fast or pizza for being too cheesy to be left alone.
I blame myself.
Please forgive me, my dear diet chart.
By Sayan Basak
Why me? Is that the first reaction that you have on experiencing pain?
Let me tell you a micro story and then we can conclude.
A certain Devta (An alien who was spiritually and technically 5 million years ahead of us) was tired of the riches and stagnation of pleasures on his planet (Aka Devloka!). He searched for a planet that could speed up his spiritual growth and evolution. He found a blue planet, our Earth in the year 5006 B.C.
He was surprised to see a few brown skinned humans in deep meditation. He communicated with them mentally and requested them to help.
“I am Pintozahuan, king of Daytopa planet. I wish to evolve into the finer realms of existence. Sadly, my evolution has stopped despite my best efforts. Do you know why?”
The brown skinned saints opened their eyes and talked telepathically “Welcome to the blessed planet, Earth. The only good thing that this planet offers is pain. But worry not, this thing called pain will propel you to truth in no time. Sensation of pain is the only cure for stagnation of evolution”
The alien took birth as a human being and started living on this planet. He lost his mother when he was born. His father died of a snake bite. He roamed the streets as a lunatic and begged for food. He developed skin diseases and became weak.
One day when he went to a temple to collect Bhoga (free food) he saw the same brown skinned saints who communicated with him on his initial arrival. They recognized him instantly and took him to their Ashram (Spiritual retreat). His diseases were healed and he was initiated into the world of meditation and deep concentration.
One day Pintozahuan was sitting with the saints.
“So what did you learn?” Asked the brown skinned saints.
“It is a strange sensation! But my mind has become sharper and ready to enter the infinite state” Exclaimed Pintozahuan.
“So you have learnt the secret of this Planet?”
“Yes I do, now please help me reach my cosmic home!”
Pintozahuan meditated intensely for years. His mind was stronger than ever. Pain had made him resistant to all stagnating thoughts. He entered the cosmic world with ease and joined several earthly saints!
So friends, remember, this planet is a learning stage. Use your pain to evolve. Do not complain, utilize the gift called pain !
The creator is testing you!
By Saket Chattopadhyay