Short-story

An Afternoon to Remember

Published

3 years ago

July 23, 2021

Chaitanyamoi Chetia
St. Joseph’s High School, Moranhat, Assam

Mr Bhattacharjee and his wife were ecstatic as they would go to Digboi to find a beautiful home to stay in. They heard that the place was one of the leading oils and tea-producing centres of the state and had many bungalows unique to the town. They asked their son to accompany them to see the home together, but their son did not comply, saying that he watched ‘Animal Farm’ an animation.

After watching the movie, he would have to sharpen his pencil to draw science pictures as part of his school project, the son said.

“OK,” said his mother, “Keep the mobile phone in your pocket and call us when you feel it necessary.” After all, he was happy that his parents were going for a good cause, not knowing that it would be his father’s last driving experience.

Mr Bhattacharjee said, “Get ready within five minutes; I shall drive out quickly so that we can return soon.”

After taking their seats, Mr Bhattacharjee started driving the car from Dibrugarh through the never-ending tea gardens to Digboi. Mr Bhattacharjee wanted to make the journey enjoyable by telling some essential things: he told his wife that India obtained the first oil refinery in Digboi and the first oil city in Asia. He also said that playing tennis on the lawn tennis court, playing billiards sports with a cue stick on a cloth-covered billiards table, and golfing are the luxuries few people can enjoy.

“It is also a beautiful place with greenery everywhere having spectacular, and eye-catching locations and most of the bungalows are in the foothills in an upland area with elevated slopes,” he continued.

They, at last, reached the uphill knoll where they intended to arrive. The owner of the house grew towards middle age. With a teacup and a saucer in his hand, the owner was sipping and sitting in the front lawn of the house. Near him was resting a golf kit.

He welcomed them, handing over a bunch of keys in Mr Bhattacharjee’s hands and said, “Please go and have a look at the house!”

Mr Bhattacharjee said to his wife after unlocking the door, “The owner has a sense of contentment and smile on his face. He must be making a remarkable performance in the golf course; he is clean shaved and has got his hair cut in the proper length, he is also putting on trendy attire to give a favourable impression.” His wife nodded with a smile and went inside to see the rooms.

A soft breeze blew then, and it swept over the top of the trees as they entered the house. There were cloth curtains in the drawing-room, and balmy breeze cooled the room’s atmosphere and made the curtains flutter.

“Curtains soak up the noise in proportion to the area they cover; this house is nice and well decorated!” Mr Bhattacharjee’s wife said. “Our son will also like the house.”

The window shutters were made of movable wooden slats fixed in a wooden frame; also, there was writing and a reading table with sufficient light. “I am impressed by the decoration of the rooms, and our son will be able to enjoy free time in the lap of nature, untouched by pollution and congestion, surrounded by the panoramic view,” she said thoughtfully.

Just then, Mr Bhattacharjee told her that he had a critical meeting with a young man in the outskirts; he would return soon. He advised her to look at the other rooms – the attached bathrooms, hot and cold running water, kitchen, and cabins. Saying thus, he stormed to his car to drive down the road, wondering whether he would be able to come across the young man in the said place.

Mr Bhattacharjee’s wife started looking at the grassy knoll and the tall woods, the corridors, and the ventilation of the rooms and then headed for the basin to wash her hands and look at the sink and the cabinets. The kitchen had tiled walls and non-slip floors; there was also germicide cleaning of floors in a cabin and one + UV water purifier mounted on the kitchen wall.

Most of the houses in the knoll were built uniformly with slider windows and bow windows in all the rooms, but the steep downhill having vastly differing elevation was very narrow.

Switching on the car engine, Mr Bhattacharjee looked as if there was an obstacle in the surrounding. He put his gear shift in the reverse and looked at the rear mirror; he also checked his positions if there was any hazard on his side. He again checked his left-hand side mirror and the right-hand side mirror and started coming down slowly; till then, he came down a long distance.

He started looking over his right shoulder and his left shoulder. “The path is narrow to accommodate only a single car!” he said in dissatisfaction: his hands still firmly gripped in his steering.

He craned his neck backwards. Panic started swelling within him as he saw one boy with a school bag on his back in great cheer racing up his scooty to the knoll where the house was situated.

Seeing the scooty coming up too close to the car, Mr Bhattacharjee was at a loss and confused. The scooty and the car barely touched each other: it looked like there was about to be a collision. “Why are you coming so closer?” Mr Bhattacharjee cried impatiently with a warning to the boy, but the latter was unconcerned.

He managed to steer clear of the scooty, but due to some faults while driving, he was not in full control; while negotiating with the slopes and cuts, his car failed and ultimately made the car tumble down beneath a massive and almost impenetrable thickest of thorns and boulders below the ground.

The sun was about to set in the western sky then, and the sound of the car slipping down went to a long distance. Then, seized by nervousness and alarm of fear, his wife came down running to see as to what had happened.

The windshield of the car shattered and broke into pieces. The front windows were all broken; the cracked windshield and tiny chips had hammered back into Mr Bhattacharjee’s face.

Mr Bhattacharjee injured his head; blood oozed out of his injured nose; trickled from his forehead, and he scraped his knees badly. It was unimaginable to every pedestrian who was near the site. One pedestrian said that if the long steep road and the elevation had been made a little wider, the accident could have been avoided that afternoon.

Short-story

Fury of Tomato

Published

1 year ago

August 16, 2023

VOV Writer

Advika Bhatnagar
Shikshantar School, Gurugram
Grade 3

Alice, a nine-year-old boy, lived in the countryside of Tinseltown with his Granny. He was a stubborn and edgy child. He liked to eat whatever he wanted and didn’t care much about Granny’s words. This made the old lady very sad.

“Granny, Granny, hunger pangs! I want pizza and chocolate ice cream for dinner,” said Alice

“Wait, child, I’m making delicious chicken soup, healthy multigrain bread, and a fresh salad,” answered Granny.

Alice got angry when he saw salad on the dining table. He yelled, “Again, cucumber, bell pepper, carrot, and tomato. Is that what I will eat? “No, no, no, never, not at all. No dinner tonight.” Granny got worried and left the house to get his favourite food.

Alice was all alone. In anger, he picked up the tomato and threw it at the wall. The red pulp of the tomato almost covered the mid-wall. He was shocked to see the pulp turning into a monster.

“Ha, Ha, Ha, you stubborn boy. Every day I see you trouble your Granny for food. When you hit me against the wall today, I felt hurt. I will teach you a lesson. I am the new king of vegetables. I rule the meals,” said the tomato monster. And then the monster followed him everywhere in the room.

Alice was so scared that he was running in different directions. Sitting under the table, he quietly prayed, “Oh God, please save me from this deadly monster.”

Alice rushed to his Granny’s room, wears her hat and robe. He picks up the embroidered, favourite napkin of the Granny and moves slowly towards the wall. He wipes the tomato pulp, and the monster disappears right away.

Alice gets the lesson of his life to value all food. He vows to take care of Granny, as her belongings protect him. When she was back, he hugged her and said, “I love you so much. I will eat whatever you cook for me.”

The writer attended Takhte Writers & Publishers’ Story Writing Writeshop at Kalasthali, Gurugram.

Photo Courtesy – Andre Taissin (xRUJcUTEp6Y) Unsplash

Short-story

#Anecdotes of India@75

Published

2 years ago

June 2, 2022

VOV Writer

India, an enigmatic and epochal country, has an unparalleled and flourishing cultural legacy, which we are proud to represent. It is steadfast and unyielding, and it will never be lost to future generations. This year marks the 75th anniversary of India’s independence.

Writers are synonymous with bringing about a renaissance, whether literary or social; they function as negotiators to mediate the country’s social and cultural difficulties and, at times, become reformists. They have a legendary imagination, a distinct voice, flawless creative control of wordplay, and the ability to represent reality.

Takhte Writers & Publishers in collaboration with StoryMirror launch the literary contest ‘Anecdotes of India@75′

‘Anecdotes of India@75’ acknowledge the unacknowledged. It could be a person or an incident adding to national ethos, and you as a writer feel that others should know about it. So, start thinking, exploring and writing it in a stimulating story.

Rules:

Participants have to submit their content on the above theme.
Winners will be decided on the basis of editorial scores.
Participants should submit their original content. There is no limit to the number of content to be submitted.
There is no word limit.
There is no participation fee.

Categories: Story

Languages: English, Hindi

Prizes:

Top 2 winners will be felicitated with the Coffee Table Book of Rs2500/- authored by Takhte Writers
Top 20 winners in each language will be published in an ebook by StoryMirror.
Winners will receive digital certificates of appreciation.
All participants will receive a digital participation certificate.

Submission phase – May 29, 2022, to June 28, 2022

Declaration of Result: August 11, 2022

Contact:
Email: takhtevov@gmail.com
Phone/ WhatsApp: +91 9311845524

Short-story

Twisha and Alex on Moon

Published

3 years ago

April 18, 2022

VOV Writer

Reyaansh Bhardwaj
Scottish High International School
Gurugram
Grade 4

Alex was in his science lab carrying out his usual experiments. But, this time, he had thought of making a robot, which he wanted to gift to King Andrew during his birthday celebration. At that moment, Twisha came into the lab with Oreo.

Twisha, a year younger than Alex, is a sweet, pretty and short-tempered cousin. She asked Alex about his new experiment and shared her thoughts about going to the Moon.

Alex said, “Wow! Moon. I know you always wanted to go there. However, right now, going to the moon is more like a dream as we do not have a spacecraft. One day, I will take you to the moon”.

“One day! Seriously Alex. It doesn’t seem that near now. I surely want to go now,” said Twisha.

“Oh, Twisha! Don’t lose heart. I just remembered that Dr Peter is a Rocket scientist. He lives in the U.S.A, and I’ll talk to him about it,” said Alex.

Twisha replied, “Don’t make it tough. I will take you there.”

Alex was wonderstruck and astonished and teased her, “You are not a scientist. Are you a magician? HA HA HA HA HA HA.”

Twisha frowned. Seeing her annoyed, Alex said, “Ok, ok, so when are we going? How are we going? For how long are we going? What are we taking along?

Oreo heard the word going. He whined as if he should not be forgotten in their plans.

Twisha replied, “So many questions in one go. Bro, relax. We’ll go after two days on the full moon night.“

Twisha patted Oreo and said, “My Lil pup, I’m sorry you can’t go this time, but I’ll treat you with your favourite bone and peanut butter.”

As planned, on the full moon night, they both go on the terrace; Twisha asks Alex to lie down on the spread carpet. It was attractive, multicoloured with stars on it

Alex gets grumpy, “Are you serious. Is this your plan? Just lying down, and we’ll reach the Moon.”

“Have patience, this carpet has magical powers, and it will take us to the moon,” said Twisha. Her mind is burdened and overworking how to calm Alex and end his curiosity. Then, as in a trance-like state, she can take him and bring him back quickly.

Twisha picks up the crystal ball and asks him to focus on it and take deep breaths.

In no time, Alex exclaims, “Wowww! We have finally landed. It’s giant. Twisha, you know other names of Moon, its Luna, Selena or say Artemis. Moon is the only natural satellite of our planet and the second brightest object in the sky after the sun. Any object on the Moon will weigh six times less than on Earth. It rests on the tallest mountain, the Mons Huygens. Twisha, you would have read too, that Neil Armstrong was the first person to set foot on the Moon.”

Alex, for hours, kept gaping and looking around in awe. He is surprised that Twisha has not spoken and asks her, “Hey! Why are you not saying anything? You also know so much. So you should share your learnings.”

Twisha giggles and pats Alex’s shoulder, “Hey, Bro, how are you doing? I think you completely enjoyed your visit to the Moon.” Alex rubbed his eyes and looked at her with his mouth open.

Photo Courtesy – aron-visuals-unsplash