Standing, on the rooftop of his one room LIG flat, Chintoo was offering food to birds, doing the Shradh rites in memory of his late father. Tears were flowing from his eyes, remembering his late father.
It is believed that the spirits leave Pitru–loka and reside in their descendants' homes for a month until the sun enters the next zodiac—Scorpio (Vrichchhika)—and there is a full moon. Hindus are expected to propitiate the ancestors in the first half, during the dark fortnight.
Staying far away from home and elders, today's generation is lost for roots and culture. In such a situation, the very mention of pooja, paath, homa, havan and some important rituals like Pithra Karma or Shraadh evokes a sense of fear and anxiety.
It is like "Thanksgiving" to them for the blessings one enjoy because of them in this life time and coming generations will be called by the family name that they belong to. They bless us with all their hearts when their journey to the final destination is done with ease.
In this ritual, Chintoo 's little son Peeku was also happily and playfully helping him. Peeku was studying in a government school. Chintoo used to drop his son, Peeku on a cycle. Chintoo also offered food to cows in memory of his father.
Men, women, children do this Pitru worship or tarpan. That is done only after their death. Doing this every year removes many materialistic problems in life and helps us to progress spiritually. This is of immense value.
Chintoo, aged four played with his tricycle, rolled in the grass and ran barefoot in the park with his father.
He was the sunshine to his father. He was a pure joy to him.
Bedtime came and Chintoo didn't want to go to sleep.
Night after night he resisted as if troubled by the shadows of the night.
His father tried to talk and plead with him. He coaxed him and at times rebuke him but to no avail.
Chintoo wanted the constant light and not the dark.
He wanted the light of the day and not the dark shadows of the night.
The joyous and playful child did not want the black he saw in from the day-night cycle. But Chintoo was not ready to "see".
It was soon to be that his father kisses, hugs and loving heart brought this child peace and a good night's sleep. The house was once again a delight.
Yes, father's love was the healer of the fear of the dark.
When they reached to the University Chintoo decided that he needed to go to the toilet.
Chintoo quietly opened her purse and took 500/= out and ran to the drinks bar. He asked politely for a can of coke. He gave the man the money and went back to the hostel.
He was sipping it hastily so he could get as much as possible before his father noticed. His father turned around and saw him sipping the whisky. He looked furious. He snatched the can from him and threw it in the dustbin.
They both turned around and started walking again. Once the evening walk was over they started walking back to the hostel and they came to a big hill.
Chintoo thought he would run down it. He started running down it and his father yelled at the top of his voice to stop running or you will get down.
He just ignored him and kept running. After about a minute he fell down and was screaming. His father also ran. He quickly reached to him and he had a big cut on his knee. His father quickly phoned the dispensary in charge and told him what happened and the in charge said that he would be there in a minute.
The in charge arrived and helped Chintoo up and told the father to accompany him. All came to the dispensary. He got 10 stitches and that he was never going to drink the wrong things again. They were all pleased that Chintoo was alright.
In the university, he had always captivated the girls; unlike the cars, the mere lifeless attractions with their deception of the bright colours, hard, strong, the extremely attractive interiors, but it was neither humans nor animals.
The new university building with four stories was majestic for newcomers. The girls counted the steps for each garden and threw their bodies against the trees of the unending hills to suck in more air than their lean and thin legs could pull at each drag.
But no heights awed them, like the pigeons. They flew at the maximum end the eye can see, a dot of brown; the spy on the visage of the sky spotting its blue beauty with humble grace. And then they would appear in multitudes, whirling in the sky their harmonized tap; bodies in accord with the cadence of their souls. These birds, heartless man consider, of prey, piloting, navigating the convoy of tranquillity as they contemplate under the sky. In their yogic reverie, they resist worldly tension and reached higher and more higher, these pigeons flying on the spirit of the universe. No jealousy, no hate, no competition. Some were less high and some were higher.
The girls widened their eyes and stressed their forehead to see across limits, to defy the sun for a sight of this delicate march even as the pigeons amused in its vivid cheerful glare. Near, nearer, they kept flying for its scorching power and yet their wings neither burnt nor melted as they make fun of the Sun. It was for the sun they danced and with the sun they danced, the energy that the one acquired from the other. The flock made them the spirits, the eternal creations of a blue heaven, perpetual, impermeable, and invulnerable to the limits of earthly endurance. The pigeons return their nest after sunset but girls never return their nest, once left by them. They are always on the hunt for a bountiful nest and tasty prey.
Chintoo was a little boy who was very naughty. He started stealing money from his mother's purse to spend on his friends. He bought a mobile phone with this stealing money. With the dawn of superior technology, mounting use of mobile phones and other devices are greatly harming the new generation. Students are developing a strong addiction to their mobile phones, which is hurting their concentration, studies, IQ and behaviour. Parents and teachers generally face this trouble in fighting the diversion of students and children. Chintoo was also a victim of this disorder. He hardly gave any call to his parents but all the time chatting with his friends, especially girls.
The dinner time was most playing time for girls; cashing their womanhood on their celestial existence, their meditating resolves to attract the fops like a sandwich. Behind the rocks, under the dark bushes, dark caves, thick tree etc. all the places were adored by their Yoga asanas. When the girls were performing Yoga like pouncing down, they did not make any sound, no shriek; not even the crackle of their bangles alerted the victim of the attack. Some hot and fast breathing for a moment than all the passions spent and lull.
The delicious dinner followed with all silence. A mysterious calm swept across the eyes. The girls flew down and were gone and next day looking for another prey like the daughter of washer man in The Wasteland of T.S.Eliot. Chintoo was always busy with these girls. Always busy on the phone with one or the other girl but no time to talk to his father.
"Shakina …….how did you eat today? Two pizzas, two burgers …Is this all you are learning in university? To be immature with your prey?"
Only when her friends saw her vomiting and pain in stomach, visible on the face of Shakina that they felt a pang of pity.
"So it was Chintoo is the guy who gave ache ……but how can he give pain to your stomach?"
And how could the girls know about the evening outing? Shakina was embarrassed but not scared. How amazing that a girl could have so much power. Her mind was always sharp and fast in fooling the boys. And so were all her girl classmates and senior school girls who too were startled by this new opening in a hilly town. The teachers or the proctor equally were harassed and helpless. Their positions were like sisters, nuns, the office-bearers who have no powers except to gaze at the counsel of the Church sermons, on discipline, tolerance, control, love and patience. Strictures for students were announced in the university school assembly—
‘Students must be disciplined, must be careful about their studies and safety, must play in the university ground, must not litter the university and classrooms, must not roam with the boys in the forest, must be regular and punctual in the classrooms even during breaks if the class-teacher so instructs.'
It was forbidden for the girls to roam with the boys in the playground but rather they stick around the boys like the cigarettes in the cigarette box. The seats and desks inside four walls of lifeless classrooms were dull and ugly to them. The breaks had lost all meaning and the playgrounds all festivity if they fail to get their prey. There was no chitter-chatter, the chirp and jingle of soft feminine voices that yoke the boys. The green playground was gleaming, clean but lush green, deserted and lonely, inviting and waiting for the players. The huge trees, neighbouring it standing voiceless, were guarding the terror-stricken landscape, guilty of the crime of sheltering the lusty love-birds. The girls observed that the breeze could not swing the twigs as much and the leaves did not twinkle as much, but the elements of youthfulness had the force as much as when they sauntered out, hang around, hugged, and kissed, embracing each other, trying to digest the food stuffed in their stomachs.
After five years of unproductive stay, Chintoo felt ignored and the girls were looking for the better settlement. The girls gazed at from the classroom glasses, looking out for boys but they haunted no more as they were chasing the marks and career. Neither did they hold meditation sessions and the blue skies appeared tasteless, dull and lifeless when they felt the storms of time. Another batch passed by and the teachers were sure, they were gone.
"Students, today Shakina got selected in Microsoft. We will have a small party in the campus. She has sent money for soft drinks, chocolates and creamy pastries for everyone. After that, you will be allowed to go out to the classrooms. The dean wished good placements for everyone. "
Shakina looked at the appointment letter kept in her file like some holy pages of some holy book, delicate and pious. Her mother had tried to fill the fear in her heart by tying a red thread on her hand; and she could truly feel the imam of the mosque holding her small wrist, hard and familiar. On her first day in the office, she wore gleaming in white embed suit. Her riches bewitched her silly mind with her raw artistic sense seeking to affirm its birth.
As the new session began, new students joined. The girls thronged into the anxious waiting recreational area starving for their band. The green grass welcomed the steps from their trampling feet. They banged into each other, fell upon each other, spin over and frolicking over the ground and the liberal bosom was also joining in their joyous movement. They crooned and have fun and leered and hissed and the jingly snigger echoed in the bushes and rocks, waiting for new love-birds for over two months.
They pushed and roamed until drained of the delight and finally picked up their partners. The hissing sound of young cupids blew through the air. The odours made them thirsty and they dug their lips into each other to quench the thirst. Then they struck, from all the angles; , the assault was silent but agreement. The beats of cheeks against each other's cheek hummed no alarm. They disappeared with the same suppleness as with which they had pounced. Shazia has no regret over the loss of her virginity.
"Where's your mobile?" It was out of real concern that the friend remembered the life trapped in a mobile. For Shazia, it was as though she had lost her virginity yet again. This time she had been swept up in the ground. To the ground and Shazia, herself was to blame for this great loss.
Shazia pleaded to God to ask forgiveness. The blue sky was radiate in a hex and the amazing dance of young cupids held the dark-hidden space. Theirs synchronize actions, renowned their union, the dim light and the evening. Nothing could scare this harmony of the secular souls and the blissful bodies floating in the splendour of green space. It seemed to Shazia, a glimpse of divine bliss. Did the divine souls wade through these unknown depths as highest bliss? Had they mastered this composition and had they developed wings those glided them deeper and deeper towards ecstasy? Or did they descend from the heavens for such voyage?
The students saw Chintoo sitting there as a prince, splendid and bossy, his imposing persona attracting everybody and then like the robes of a prince flaunting his majestic influence. In his hand, the expensive mobile phone flashed from the shining brightly in the moonlight at the evening hour. He held it, seemed to be a slave to it, his fingers always pricking at it, nibbling it.
He moved about the corridors, moved a few steps, twisted his legs, but kept on clutching the mobile phone. His strong physique was good enough to attract the restless souls and girls were naturally attracted to him. He was an easy victim for fiddling in search of prey– the lifeless mobile gripped in his strong hands, questioning perhaps of its use for his own good while Shazia and the classmates waited below breathless and stiff, for his next love.
He put his mobile phone in his pocket. All the girls wriggled their fingers into his pocket. They were more interested in touching his private hidden part. The bright cover excelled its lustrous lustre and the expensive casing flashed with glee as the phone struggled out of the pocket of Chintoo. A piercing whistle declared the excited flash of recovery. He pounced down and fluttered his arms with a force that gripped girls in his strong arms. Shazia and the girls enjoyed this as he mounted higher and higher to strengthen the bond.
"Strange, it has never occurred before. Chintoo was not worried about his phone. Were they thanking for his steel grip?
"No, he was wishing me a warm welcome! Thank you, Chintoo!" Shazia kissed the phone and put it back in his pocket.
There was chuckles and screams and laughter interspersed with delightful whistles as all went back to the hostels; across the lush green grounds and the transcendent blue skies above.
Now Chintoo was left alone in his hostel. He was looking the glass of his mobile phone, the thin wire and links of the head-phone device, always inserted in his ear, appeared to Chintoo, as flimsy, as vague, as a horrible dream of some horror Arabian stories. He pulled out the hand-free from his ears, and the expensive mobile cover meant to protect the mobile, seemed the most important thing in the world. He was not ready to risk its safety. The operation and signals, the plus-down manoeuvres of the network, the pictures and the voice would be a vital concern to its ethereal existence. Chintoo was proud of his mobile as if it was his family member.
There was lightning in the sky. The heavy down pour plunged the ground; a bright lightning landing on the green ground as a piercing screech stabbed the stillness that had penetrated Chintoo's obsessed mind frozen from the shock of his loss. On the pitch, his head turned upwards to the roof of the four-storeyed huge campus that housed the hostel and the classrooms.
He opened his eyes as if he was seeing a horrible dream. He remembered his father and days spent with him.
Chintoo was a very naughty boy since his childhood.
His father wanted him to work hard but he was interested in movies, mobiles, friends' television etc. . . .
Then the day before they were going to the university his father said that dear Chintoo works hard.
He rang his father. But came no reply.
It was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? I turned back....
My father was standing at the door. ‘How are you beta Chintoo?' Came a soft question. I clang my father and cried and cried. Silently, I vowed never to hurt and disobey my father.
It is believed that the spirits leave Pitru–loka and reside in their descendants' homes for a month until the sun enters the next zodiac—Scorpio (Vrichchhika)—and there is a full moon. Hindus are expected to propitiate the ancestors in the first half, during the dark fortnight.
Staying far away from home and elders, today's generation is lost for roots and culture. In such a situation, the very mention of pooja, paath, homa, havan and some important rituals like Pithra Karma or Shraadh evokes a sense of fear and anxiety.
It is like "Thanksgiving" to them for the blessings one enjoy because of them in this life time and coming generations will be called by the family name that they belong to. They bless us with all their hearts when their journey to the final destination is done with ease.
In this ritual, Chintoo 's little son Peeku was also happily and playfully helping him. Peeku was studying in a government school. Chintoo used to drop his son, Peeku on a cycle. Chintoo also offered food to cows in memory of his father.
Men, women, children do this Pitru worship or tarpan. That is done only after their death. Doing this every year removes many materialistic problems in life and helps us to progress spiritually. This is of immense value.
Chintoo, aged four played with his tricycle, rolled in the grass and ran barefoot in the park with his father.
He was the sunshine to his father. He was a pure joy to him.
Bedtime came and Chintoo didn't want to go to sleep.
Night after night he resisted as if troubled by the shadows of the night.
His father tried to talk and plead with him. He coaxed him and at times rebuke him but to no avail.
Chintoo wanted the constant light and not the dark.
He wanted the light of the day and not the dark shadows of the night.
The joyous and playful child did not want the black he saw in from the day-night cycle. But Chintoo was not ready to "see".
It was soon to be that his father kisses, hugs and loving heart brought this child peace and a good night's sleep. The house was once again a delight.
Yes, father's love was the healer of the fear of the dark.
When they reached to the University Chintoo decided that he needed to go to the toilet.
Chintoo quietly opened her purse and took 500/= out and ran to the drinks bar. He asked politely for a can of coke. He gave the man the money and went back to the hostel.
He was sipping it hastily so he could get as much as possible before his father noticed. His father turned around and saw him sipping the whisky. He looked furious. He snatched the can from him and threw it in the dustbin.
They both turned around and started walking again. Once the evening walk was over they started walking back to the hostel and they came to a big hill.
Chintoo thought he would run down it. He started running down it and his father yelled at the top of his voice to stop running or you will get down.
He just ignored him and kept running. After about a minute he fell down and was screaming. His father also ran. He quickly reached to him and he had a big cut on his knee. His father quickly phoned the dispensary in charge and told him what happened and the in charge said that he would be there in a minute.
The in charge arrived and helped Chintoo up and told the father to accompany him. All came to the dispensary. He got 10 stitches and that he was never going to drink the wrong things again. They were all pleased that Chintoo was alright.
In the university, he had always captivated the girls; unlike the cars, the mere lifeless attractions with their deception of the bright colours, hard, strong, the extremely attractive interiors, but it was neither humans nor animals.
The new university building with four stories was majestic for newcomers. The girls counted the steps for each garden and threw their bodies against the trees of the unending hills to suck in more air than their lean and thin legs could pull at each drag.
But no heights awed them, like the pigeons. They flew at the maximum end the eye can see, a dot of brown; the spy on the visage of the sky spotting its blue beauty with humble grace. And then they would appear in multitudes, whirling in the sky their harmonized tap; bodies in accord with the cadence of their souls. These birds, heartless man consider, of prey, piloting, navigating the convoy of tranquillity as they contemplate under the sky. In their yogic reverie, they resist worldly tension and reached higher and more higher, these pigeons flying on the spirit of the universe. No jealousy, no hate, no competition. Some were less high and some were higher.
The girls widened their eyes and stressed their forehead to see across limits, to defy the sun for a sight of this delicate march even as the pigeons amused in its vivid cheerful glare. Near, nearer, they kept flying for its scorching power and yet their wings neither burnt nor melted as they make fun of the Sun. It was for the sun they danced and with the sun they danced, the energy that the one acquired from the other. The flock made them the spirits, the eternal creations of a blue heaven, perpetual, impermeable, and invulnerable to the limits of earthly endurance. The pigeons return their nest after sunset but girls never return their nest, once left by them. They are always on the hunt for a bountiful nest and tasty prey.
Chintoo was a little boy who was very naughty. He started stealing money from his mother's purse to spend on his friends. He bought a mobile phone with this stealing money. With the dawn of superior technology, mounting use of mobile phones and other devices are greatly harming the new generation. Students are developing a strong addiction to their mobile phones, which is hurting their concentration, studies, IQ and behaviour. Parents and teachers generally face this trouble in fighting the diversion of students and children. Chintoo was also a victim of this disorder. He hardly gave any call to his parents but all the time chatting with his friends, especially girls.
The dinner time was most playing time for girls; cashing their womanhood on their celestial existence, their meditating resolves to attract the fops like a sandwich. Behind the rocks, under the dark bushes, dark caves, thick tree etc. all the places were adored by their Yoga asanas. When the girls were performing Yoga like pouncing down, they did not make any sound, no shriek; not even the crackle of their bangles alerted the victim of the attack. Some hot and fast breathing for a moment than all the passions spent and lull.
The delicious dinner followed with all silence. A mysterious calm swept across the eyes. The girls flew down and were gone and next day looking for another prey like the daughter of washer man in The Wasteland of T.S.Eliot. Chintoo was always busy with these girls. Always busy on the phone with one or the other girl but no time to talk to his father.
"Shakina …….how did you eat today? Two pizzas, two burgers …Is this all you are learning in university? To be immature with your prey?"
Only when her friends saw her vomiting and pain in stomach, visible on the face of Shakina that they felt a pang of pity.
"So it was Chintoo is the guy who gave ache ……but how can he give pain to your stomach?"
And how could the girls know about the evening outing? Shakina was embarrassed but not scared. How amazing that a girl could have so much power. Her mind was always sharp and fast in fooling the boys. And so were all her girl classmates and senior school girls who too were startled by this new opening in a hilly town. The teachers or the proctor equally were harassed and helpless. Their positions were like sisters, nuns, the office-bearers who have no powers except to gaze at the counsel of the Church sermons, on discipline, tolerance, control, love and patience. Strictures for students were announced in the university school assembly—
‘Students must be disciplined, must be careful about their studies and safety, must play in the university ground, must not litter the university and classrooms, must not roam with the boys in the forest, must be regular and punctual in the classrooms even during breaks if the class-teacher so instructs.'
It was forbidden for the girls to roam with the boys in the playground but rather they stick around the boys like the cigarettes in the cigarette box. The seats and desks inside four walls of lifeless classrooms were dull and ugly to them. The breaks had lost all meaning and the playgrounds all festivity if they fail to get their prey. There was no chitter-chatter, the chirp and jingle of soft feminine voices that yoke the boys. The green playground was gleaming, clean but lush green, deserted and lonely, inviting and waiting for the players. The huge trees, neighbouring it standing voiceless, were guarding the terror-stricken landscape, guilty of the crime of sheltering the lusty love-birds. The girls observed that the breeze could not swing the twigs as much and the leaves did not twinkle as much, but the elements of youthfulness had the force as much as when they sauntered out, hang around, hugged, and kissed, embracing each other, trying to digest the food stuffed in their stomachs.
After five years of unproductive stay, Chintoo felt ignored and the girls were looking for the better settlement. The girls gazed at from the classroom glasses, looking out for boys but they haunted no more as they were chasing the marks and career. Neither did they hold meditation sessions and the blue skies appeared tasteless, dull and lifeless when they felt the storms of time. Another batch passed by and the teachers were sure, they were gone.
"Students, today Shakina got selected in Microsoft. We will have a small party in the campus. She has sent money for soft drinks, chocolates and creamy pastries for everyone. After that, you will be allowed to go out to the classrooms. The dean wished good placements for everyone. "
Shakina looked at the appointment letter kept in her file like some holy pages of some holy book, delicate and pious. Her mother had tried to fill the fear in her heart by tying a red thread on her hand; and she could truly feel the imam of the mosque holding her small wrist, hard and familiar. On her first day in the office, she wore gleaming in white embed suit. Her riches bewitched her silly mind with her raw artistic sense seeking to affirm its birth.
As the new session began, new students joined. The girls thronged into the anxious waiting recreational area starving for their band. The green grass welcomed the steps from their trampling feet. They banged into each other, fell upon each other, spin over and frolicking over the ground and the liberal bosom was also joining in their joyous movement. They crooned and have fun and leered and hissed and the jingly snigger echoed in the bushes and rocks, waiting for new love-birds for over two months.
They pushed and roamed until drained of the delight and finally picked up their partners. The hissing sound of young cupids blew through the air. The odours made them thirsty and they dug their lips into each other to quench the thirst. Then they struck, from all the angles; , the assault was silent but agreement. The beats of cheeks against each other's cheek hummed no alarm. They disappeared with the same suppleness as with which they had pounced. Shazia has no regret over the loss of her virginity.
"Where's your mobile?" It was out of real concern that the friend remembered the life trapped in a mobile. For Shazia, it was as though she had lost her virginity yet again. This time she had been swept up in the ground. To the ground and Shazia, herself was to blame for this great loss.
Shazia pleaded to God to ask forgiveness. The blue sky was radiate in a hex and the amazing dance of young cupids held the dark-hidden space. Theirs synchronize actions, renowned their union, the dim light and the evening. Nothing could scare this harmony of the secular souls and the blissful bodies floating in the splendour of green space. It seemed to Shazia, a glimpse of divine bliss. Did the divine souls wade through these unknown depths as highest bliss? Had they mastered this composition and had they developed wings those glided them deeper and deeper towards ecstasy? Or did they descend from the heavens for such voyage?
The students saw Chintoo sitting there as a prince, splendid and bossy, his imposing persona attracting everybody and then like the robes of a prince flaunting his majestic influence. In his hand, the expensive mobile phone flashed from the shining brightly in the moonlight at the evening hour. He held it, seemed to be a slave to it, his fingers always pricking at it, nibbling it.
He moved about the corridors, moved a few steps, twisted his legs, but kept on clutching the mobile phone. His strong physique was good enough to attract the restless souls and girls were naturally attracted to him. He was an easy victim for fiddling in search of prey– the lifeless mobile gripped in his strong hands, questioning perhaps of its use for his own good while Shazia and the classmates waited below breathless and stiff, for his next love.
He put his mobile phone in his pocket. All the girls wriggled their fingers into his pocket. They were more interested in touching his private hidden part. The bright cover excelled its lustrous lustre and the expensive casing flashed with glee as the phone struggled out of the pocket of Chintoo. A piercing whistle declared the excited flash of recovery. He pounced down and fluttered his arms with a force that gripped girls in his strong arms. Shazia and the girls enjoyed this as he mounted higher and higher to strengthen the bond.
"Strange, it has never occurred before. Chintoo was not worried about his phone. Were they thanking for his steel grip?
"No, he was wishing me a warm welcome! Thank you, Chintoo!" Shazia kissed the phone and put it back in his pocket.
There was chuckles and screams and laughter interspersed with delightful whistles as all went back to the hostels; across the lush green grounds and the transcendent blue skies above.
Now Chintoo was left alone in his hostel. He was looking the glass of his mobile phone, the thin wire and links of the head-phone device, always inserted in his ear, appeared to Chintoo, as flimsy, as vague, as a horrible dream of some horror Arabian stories. He pulled out the hand-free from his ears, and the expensive mobile cover meant to protect the mobile, seemed the most important thing in the world. He was not ready to risk its safety. The operation and signals, the plus-down manoeuvres of the network, the pictures and the voice would be a vital concern to its ethereal existence. Chintoo was proud of his mobile as if it was his family member.
There was lightning in the sky. The heavy down pour plunged the ground; a bright lightning landing on the green ground as a piercing screech stabbed the stillness that had penetrated Chintoo's obsessed mind frozen from the shock of his loss. On the pitch, his head turned upwards to the roof of the four-storeyed huge campus that housed the hostel and the classrooms.
He opened his eyes as if he was seeing a horrible dream. He remembered his father and days spent with him.
Chintoo was a very naughty boy since his childhood.
His father wanted him to work hard but he was interested in movies, mobiles, friends' television etc. . . .
Then the day before they were going to the university his father said that dear Chintoo works hard.
He rang his father. But came no reply.
It was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? I turned back....
My father was standing at the door. ‘How are you beta Chintoo?' Came a soft question. I clang my father and cried and cried. Silently, I vowed never to hurt and disobey my father.
No comments:
Post a Comment