The day was dripping over, sun was now below the horizon and red light was scattering in the vicinity. An image of the sun drowning down coukd be seen in the lake.The solitude of the nature could do nothing but make me gay.The birds were swiftly flying to there croons rapidly swapping wings, there falling feathers disrupted the stillness of nature's mirror creating circular dimensions with a faint splash sound of water.The leaves did no longer flutter to carry the cool winds everything was motionless at its composure,the state of calmnesd vitiated the mood of brightened day.
#review #shortscene #Shashwat
#review #shortscene #Shashwat
Meeting with god part 3
Revised version
The pouring by then had taken its fierce disguise, it was thundering with sparks of orange flashes lighting the sky for a second.Will was running swaying, he was moving towards his ultimate end. His consciousness was fading, bidding adieu to sorrow and fear.
The spats and slaps were rounding his head, he was sobbing hard, tears were mixing up with the rains.His cheeks were red, and brows frowned, he was running away from his sad life. His clothes were all wet, his hairs were hanging up to his eyes.
He had only one place in his mind, the garden. He thought the granny might still be at a halt there, sitting under the shade of the large Gulmohar tree waiting for the storm to subside.
After a great struggle in the floody rain he reached the garden puffed, still he carried his little -little sobbing with red eyes and recurring hiccups. Sadly the garden was as void as emotions of warmth in his heart.
It was bare and blunt, the seats were vacant, small channels of water had made their way cutting the soil.
He would surely be sick if he was in the rain for so long.But his little brain was busy in their world of reverie. Will went and sat under the scare - shade of the tree, what good was it but? The rain was dribbling tangentially, nature had become cold by then, he was shivering out of cold. The rain was fiering sharp crystals of ice, his bare legs and hands were wounded because of the cold geometric crystals.
His family hardly you can call that ; didn't bother to set apart and search for him, his mother was worried just about a statue of bricks, one that is without soul. The day began to subside but not the storm. The sun stooped low below the horizon, there was hardly any light scattering now, nature was grey obscuring the vision because the rain was forming a blanket of water.
Will huddled near the tree, shaking and trembling but he was still in the laps of mother nature .The gulmohar tree, it was hard for the plant to bear the rush of rain its leaves were smothered by the rapid gush of air .
The granny on the other side was red with fever, her clothes were wet hanging on the door.She was in pain moaning out loud! But there was nothing that could be done, there was no food in the house, medicines were a far- talk. She lay on a rope knitted wooden bed. Her hands become stiff with every passing second!
Her daughter in law, she was scared seeing her miserable condition. The hut also couldn't bear the anger of nature, the roof which was stacked with wheat - husks were pouring rain.
Alas! Her fever….. it was hot like a blacksmiths axe she was crying in pain, it was as if god was summoning her soul.
Her life began to fade away, breathe collapsing slowly , her hands become hard and stiff and for a fraction of second time stood still, all her pains were vanished, she was happy with her stomach full recirculating the sweet memories of the day.A sudden thump of air flew the roof away and the rain was in the hut, granny was wet it was as if the nature had extinguished the fire of her fever. And the moment later she was gone, her eyes were closed. Believe me there was a faint smile on her face!
Will, he fell unconscious out of hunger, hate and cold. The gulmohar had lost its last leaf waving on the currents. The boy! He dreamt his last dream where the granny was with him, she appeared to be an angel without wings. Will called her in pain," Oh! Granny take me with you" It was the time God summoned him from his life of misery, poverty and abuse. He was in the heavens with his God, he had achieved the ultimate happiness.
The night was the longest that could ever be but after it , there was a searing ray of sunlight , looking at the sky you couldn't judge if there was rain past day!. Bright done vitiating the dark evening What a lovely day it was!
Will was sitting frozen under the blank gulmohar tree, with red cheeks and a smile accompanying his end.
#review #shashwat #shortstory
Revised version
The pouring by then had taken its fierce disguise, it was thundering with sparks of orange flashes lighting the sky for a second.Will was running swaying, he was moving towards his ultimate end. His consciousness was fading, bidding adieu to sorrow and fear.
The spats and slaps were rounding his head, he was sobbing hard, tears were mixing up with the rains.His cheeks were red, and brows frowned, he was running away from his sad life. His clothes were all wet, his hairs were hanging up to his eyes.
He had only one place in his mind, the garden. He thought the granny might still be at a halt there, sitting under the shade of the large Gulmohar tree waiting for the storm to subside.
After a great struggle in the floody rain he reached the garden puffed, still he carried his little -little sobbing with red eyes and recurring hiccups. Sadly the garden was as void as emotions of warmth in his heart.
It was bare and blunt, the seats were vacant, small channels of water had made their way cutting the soil.
He would surely be sick if he was in the rain for so long.But his little brain was busy in their world of reverie. Will went and sat under the scare - shade of the tree, what good was it but? The rain was dribbling tangentially, nature had become cold by then, he was shivering out of cold. The rain was fiering sharp crystals of ice, his bare legs and hands were wounded because of the cold geometric crystals.
His family hardly you can call that ; didn't bother to set apart and search for him, his mother was worried just about a statue of bricks, one that is without soul. The day began to subside but not the storm. The sun stooped low below the horizon, there was hardly any light scattering now, nature was grey obscuring the vision because the rain was forming a blanket of water.
Will huddled near the tree, shaking and trembling but he was still in the laps of mother nature .The gulmohar tree, it was hard for the plant to bear the rush of rain its leaves were smothered by the rapid gush of air .
The granny on the other side was red with fever, her clothes were wet hanging on the door.She was in pain moaning out loud! But there was nothing that could be done, there was no food in the house, medicines were a far- talk. She lay on a rope knitted wooden bed. Her hands become stiff with every passing second!
Her daughter in law, she was scared seeing her miserable condition. The hut also couldn't bear the anger of nature, the roof which was stacked with wheat - husks were pouring rain.
Alas! Her fever….. it was hot like a blacksmiths axe she was crying in pain, it was as if god was summoning her soul.
Her life began to fade away, breathe collapsing slowly , her hands become hard and stiff and for a fraction of second time stood still, all her pains were vanished, she was happy with her stomach full recirculating the sweet memories of the day.A sudden thump of air flew the roof away and the rain was in the hut, granny was wet it was as if the nature had extinguished the fire of her fever. And the moment later she was gone, her eyes were closed. Believe me there was a faint smile on her face!
Will, he fell unconscious out of hunger, hate and cold. The gulmohar had lost its last leaf waving on the currents. The boy! He dreamt his last dream where the granny was with him, she appeared to be an angel without wings. Will called her in pain," Oh! Granny take me with you" It was the time God summoned him from his life of misery, poverty and abuse. He was in the heavens with his God, he had achieved the ultimate happiness.
The night was the longest that could ever be but after it , there was a searing ray of sunlight , looking at the sky you couldn't judge if there was rain past day!. Bright done vitiating the dark evening What a lovely day it was!
Will was sitting frozen under the blank gulmohar tree, with red cheeks and a smile accompanying his end.
#review #shashwat #shortstory
The room was lit with a purple nature. It was a small haunted apartment winding with webs of spider tainted greyness of rough dust. Layhdina i she had finally got to the night she was longing for, on the very right lay a dead man's corpse flicking thoughts might shower as a morgue but it was not.
Layhdena moved closer to the corpse giving a slit to its sepulchre, blood was frozen as the body was kept at place for about weeks. With her old wrinkled dirty horrifying hands with big nails projecting she pulled the memory out and placed it in the bottle filled with some liquor liquid.
Moving downwards using a smooth round tool she very gently scooped one eye, the movement of the iris was easily catchable . She threw it and locked in another bottle looping the same with the other of the pair.
Oh! It was her husband locked in the magic, he was alive with a brain without its bone and eye without memory to process .
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Authors note : its a start of my frictional story I want comments if its good, I know its complicated I wanted it this way . Ankita and others plz review
Layhdena moved closer to the corpse giving a slit to its sepulchre, blood was frozen as the body was kept at place for about weeks. With her old wrinkled dirty horrifying hands with big nails projecting she pulled the memory out and placed it in the bottle filled with some liquor liquid.
Moving downwards using a smooth round tool she very gently scooped one eye, the movement of the iris was easily catchable . She threw it and locked in another bottle looping the same with the other of the pair.
Oh! It was her husband locked in the magic, he was alive with a brain without its bone and eye without memory to process .
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Authors note : its a start of my frictional story I want comments if its good, I know its complicated I wanted it this way . Ankita and others plz review
The room was lit with a purple nature. It was a small apartment winding with webs of spider tainted greyness of rough dust made it difficult to keep any step without prints .Layhdina she had finally got to the night she was longing for, on the very right lay a dead man's corpse flicking thoughts might shower as a morgue but it was not. She swiftly pulled a knife, a sharp big knife she was used to slaughter lambs with, which was very evident from her blood stained attire which was on to her for ages.
Her eyes were off, and her brain was on the verge of dying. It's common to have such issues if you have passed your 10 century. She slid the knife over her finger, " Still sharp !" The corpse was offering a foul smell, she gave his wardrobe a cut and made him lay exposed.
Layhdena moved closer to the corpse giving a slit to its sepulchre, blood was frozen as the body was kept at place for about weeks. With her old wrinkled dirty horrifying hands with big nails projecting she pulled the memory out and placed it in the bottle filled with some liquor liquid and kept aside on a table .
Moving downwards using a smooth round tool she very gently scooped one eye, the movement of the iris was easily catchable . She threw it and locked in another bottle looping the same with the other of the pair.
Oh! It was her husband locked in the magic, he was alive with a brain without its bone and eye without memory to process .
She was in need of him,dead already, will live, alive its Layhdina of course.
The dead can talk, oh yes her brain communicated with her husband's brain
Ceased locked in bottle. Even eyes could work but were far from the vicinity of the master.
She sat on the table licking her hands with a sense of hunger it's so fresh, she claimed . she was persistent to rotten dead bodies and having blood was like a boon, a sense of pleasure trembling her body moved down her spine. Wants can never be abandoned not from witches too. She reached the corpse again, moving hands to get hold of some fresh muscles. Ah! She got his chest; she made fine pieces; not the need of hands; she with her huge frangs was good all. After having torn the chest she plucked the pump out dripping with blood oh! It was fresh she took ah! A Bite shivering convulsively at how pleasurable it was her dirty black enamel was coated with red , her jaws stretched far to engulf at once blood dribbling her mouth she was a perfect picture of a monster.
She hurled her hand deep inside forcing everything in her mouth roughly again the same and again she couldn't stop. Ah! Oh! What a feeling the man was lying ripped organs call too hard on the floor.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Note : will refine it more its just for the basic plotline its a flashback kinda thing
Her eyes were off, and her brain was on the verge of dying. It's common to have such issues if you have passed your 10 century. She slid the knife over her finger, " Still sharp !" The corpse was offering a foul smell, she gave his wardrobe a cut and made him lay exposed.
Layhdena moved closer to the corpse giving a slit to its sepulchre, blood was frozen as the body was kept at place for about weeks. With her old wrinkled dirty horrifying hands with big nails projecting she pulled the memory out and placed it in the bottle filled with some liquor liquid and kept aside on a table .
Moving downwards using a smooth round tool she very gently scooped one eye, the movement of the iris was easily catchable . She threw it and locked in another bottle looping the same with the other of the pair.
Oh! It was her husband locked in the magic, he was alive with a brain without its bone and eye without memory to process .
She was in need of him,dead already, will live, alive its Layhdina of course.
The dead can talk, oh yes her brain communicated with her husband's brain
Ceased locked in bottle. Even eyes could work but were far from the vicinity of the master.
She sat on the table licking her hands with a sense of hunger it's so fresh, she claimed . she was persistent to rotten dead bodies and having blood was like a boon, a sense of pleasure trembling her body moved down her spine. Wants can never be abandoned not from witches too. She reached the corpse again, moving hands to get hold of some fresh muscles. Ah! She got his chest; she made fine pieces; not the need of hands; she with her huge frangs was good all. After having torn the chest she plucked the pump out dripping with blood oh! It was fresh she took ah! A Bite shivering convulsively at how pleasurable it was her dirty black enamel was coated with red , her jaws stretched far to engulf at once blood dribbling her mouth she was a perfect picture of a monster.
She hurled her hand deep inside forcing everything in her mouth roughly again the same and again she couldn't stop. Ah! Oh! What a feeling the man was lying ripped organs call too hard on the floor.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Note : will refine it more its just for the basic plotline its a flashback kinda thing
Ravaging
Summon and his colleagues were up for a meat party, he with his companions had bought the very antique piece of a rare variety of bats flesh. The logs of wood were offered to the dazzling fire engiting its flame, and with hot iron sticks he cleaned and pierced the bat squeezing some lemon and salt.meat tastes best at its par cooked state was his philosophy.
There were 7 bats in total, small rat like size roasting with a smell of raw timber getting naturalised.They all were sitting on a sandy shallow side of a river, with a cozy green cover surrounding the vicinity. By now the smell of the roasted flesh had filled the near nature. Summon was dribbling at its sight! . Feeling the taste of flesh by a sense of touch was also a way he conversed with food.
Finally he was ready. He took one of the sticks which had two roasted bats. It was burning hot but his hands were accused of tearing hot flesh. He tore a bit and forced into his mouth. Ah! What a wonderful taste it was the perfect par cooked bat with a number taste which he had never came across with. Summon was like a wild animal he lost his consciousness on the sight of meat, he tore the pieces and ate it bit by bit soaking all its pleasurable memory.
After he and his friends were done with it. He took the heart out raw which he has preserved for the end. It was dripping with blood, a small tiny piece, he took it from the earthen pot and locked in his safety of hands, to feel the real taste eat it raw was his policy the warmth of his hands would be enough to cook it his friends were not up to this but he was adamant to eat it.
After a wait of a minute- century he finally made its way to his mouth,puce color blood was flowing over his lips.It was the best thing that he has tasted till date.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Summon and his colleagues were up for a meat party, he with his companions had bought the very antique piece of a rare variety of bats flesh. The logs of wood were offered to the dazzling fire engiting its flame, and with hot iron sticks he cleaned and pierced the bat squeezing some lemon and salt.meat tastes best at its par cooked state was his philosophy.
There were 7 bats in total, small rat like size roasting with a smell of raw timber getting naturalised.They all were sitting on a sandy shallow side of a river, with a cozy green cover surrounding the vicinity. By now the smell of the roasted flesh had filled the near nature. Summon was dribbling at its sight! . Feeling the taste of flesh by a sense of touch was also a way he conversed with food.
Finally he was ready. He took one of the sticks which had two roasted bats. It was burning hot but his hands were accused of tearing hot flesh. He tore a bit and forced into his mouth. Ah! What a wonderful taste it was the perfect par cooked bat with a number taste which he had never came across with. Summon was like a wild animal he lost his consciousness on the sight of meat, he tore the pieces and ate it bit by bit soaking all its pleasurable memory.
After he and his friends were done with it. He took the heart out raw which he has preserved for the end. It was dripping with blood, a small tiny piece, he took it from the earthen pot and locked in his safety of hands, to feel the real taste eat it raw was his policy the warmth of his hands would be enough to cook it his friends were not up to this but he was adamant to eat it.
After a wait of a minute- century he finally made its way to his mouth,puce color blood was flowing over his lips.It was the best thing that he has tasted till date.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Part 1👆👆
He was studying about meat, sounds bizarre but in Assam there are certain courses that way. Summon he was a heavily built, plump sweet man all though the inner desires had made him grow wild still he was a gentleman inside with a small moustache and beard rounding his chubby cheeks and a small tail of hairs hanging behind while others tied in a pun upside.
On the very next day his friend fell sick not because of those bats in particular to be frank but the reason was a vegan man turning into a non vegetarian to extinguish his inner gravy's desire was behind this.
He was not just sick but seriously sick nausea, vomiting were the symptoms. Nirmali, a doctor, resided just another door from Summon's house. It was about six past half in the morning. Summon was always on a ride to different states to check on different tongue tastes so he hardly had ever had any conversation with her.
He was forced to fly to her doors, she was on the terrace doing yoga, Nirmali was a mid aged woman married with a cute little child. She was a fit lady, with the greyish outfit and a band over her head she was at the peak of her beauty. She was pale in color with her bosom half obscured Summon was literally in love with her in seconds but he had to take her to his house.
"Hello" he said in a gentle voice
After having a word she got up swifter than any lady and went to his home. She examined his friend, according to her he was not serious, just a bit indigestion some medicinal pills would work great. When she was ready to depart Summon asked her about the fees.
"What's your fees mam" he asked bending bit down as he was too tall to look into her eyes.
" Ki bolche tumi, Aare no no, No money it's ok we are neighbours" she said with a smile winding her face.
"AARE na mam, would you like me to give you a meat party btw I am a cook and a meat specialist " he told her further adding the fact about his meat club.
" Oh meat club sounds interesting " she said in a very authentic assamese accent " What is this?"
" I am doing a study in meat. So I try different types of meat to be simple. I invite you for pleasure mam( maam was what he actually said). Today in the evening is it ok?"
" Oook, ook " she said with hesitation but later happily gave a smile.
Summon all the day jumped with happiness, he was in a dilemma what food should he serve her, he was determined to make food out of his own hands. Should he cook some chicken but later dropped because it was too common.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
He was studying about meat, sounds bizarre but in Assam there are certain courses that way. Summon he was a heavily built, plump sweet man all though the inner desires had made him grow wild still he was a gentleman inside with a small moustache and beard rounding his chubby cheeks and a small tail of hairs hanging behind while others tied in a pun upside.
On the very next day his friend fell sick not because of those bats in particular to be frank but the reason was a vegan man turning into a non vegetarian to extinguish his inner gravy's desire was behind this.
He was not just sick but seriously sick nausea, vomiting were the symptoms. Nirmali, a doctor, resided just another door from Summon's house. It was about six past half in the morning. Summon was always on a ride to different states to check on different tongue tastes so he hardly had ever had any conversation with her.
He was forced to fly to her doors, she was on the terrace doing yoga, Nirmali was a mid aged woman married with a cute little child. She was a fit lady, with the greyish outfit and a band over her head she was at the peak of her beauty. She was pale in color with her bosom half obscured Summon was literally in love with her in seconds but he had to take her to his house.
"Hello" he said in a gentle voice
After having a word she got up swifter than any lady and went to his home. She examined his friend, according to her he was not serious, just a bit indigestion some medicinal pills would work great. When she was ready to depart Summon asked her about the fees.
"What's your fees mam" he asked bending bit down as he was too tall to look into her eyes.
" Ki bolche tumi, Aare no no, No money it's ok we are neighbours" she said with a smile winding her face.
"AARE na mam, would you like me to give you a meat party btw I am a cook and a meat specialist " he told her further adding the fact about his meat club.
" Oh meat club sounds interesting " she said in a very authentic assamese accent " What is this?"
" I am doing a study in meat. So I try different types of meat to be simple. I invite you for pleasure mam( maam was what he actually said). Today in the evening is it ok?"
" Oook, ook " she said with hesitation but later happily gave a smile.
Summon all the day jumped with happiness, he was in a dilemma what food should he serve her, he was determined to make food out of his own hands. Should he cook some chicken but later dropped because it was too common.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Maya swiftly opened the door, the room was left in bare silence. She kept her footsteps very gently on the floor to avoid any noise. Something was not right. An ill omen was stirring over, she was breathing calmly to force away the ambiguity and anxiety she had. She kept her bag on the table and called,"Mom are you there ?" There was a wandering eco of the word there in the room.
She noticed that the kitchen was locked.She took the keys from the drawer and turned the lock only to witness her mother dead. Blood was flowing like a river in the kitchen of her mother, she was killed horribly. A strain of stress ran down her body and she couldn't stand the site so she plunged away from the kitchen.
Her mother, her head was in the oven burnt, the door was open, hairs produced a foul whiff, her hands and body were dribbling blood. This act was cruel. She was dead. Maya ran out of the room with her curly long brown hairs swinging on her hairs.Her eyes were red with tears. She stopped at the door, taking a support. Nothing was processing in her memory other than the old beautiful moments.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
She noticed that the kitchen was locked.She took the keys from the drawer and turned the lock only to witness her mother dead. Blood was flowing like a river in the kitchen of her mother, she was killed horribly. A strain of stress ran down her body and she couldn't stand the site so she plunged away from the kitchen.
Her mother, her head was in the oven burnt, the door was open, hairs produced a foul whiff, her hands and body were dribbling blood. This act was cruel. She was dead. Maya ran out of the room with her curly long brown hairs swinging on her hairs.Her eyes were red with tears. She stopped at the door, taking a support. Nothing was processing in her memory other than the old beautiful moments.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Pessimist and Optimist
How different can our points be when they all belong to same entity ? Well to answer this here is a story -
The house was all in hustle as it was the twins birthday , My kids they were twins but opposite like reflections of mirrors .
One was north other was south , One great optimist other gloomy and pessimist .
It was their birthady so I decided to point the diffrence I locked them up in seprate rooms one with full of toys left with pessimist and other with horse manure my little boy optimist .
After a while I went into my gloomy kids room to my wonder he was crying when I asked he said sobbing ,"Oh dad what do I do now ? These toys ought to get discharge soon how will I get batteries and my friends will be jealous of me know , How will I show them these all they will break them "
When I went to my optimistic kid
"He was smiling looking at manure "
Boy why are you smiling I asked ."There must be a pony out there !" he said grinning
#review #shortstory #shashwat
How different can our points be when they all belong to same entity ? Well to answer this here is a story -
The house was all in hustle as it was the twins birthday , My kids they were twins but opposite like reflections of mirrors .
One was north other was south , One great optimist other gloomy and pessimist .
It was their birthady so I decided to point the diffrence I locked them up in seprate rooms one with full of toys left with pessimist and other with horse manure my little boy optimist .
After a while I went into my gloomy kids room to my wonder he was crying when I asked he said sobbing ,"Oh dad what do I do now ? These toys ought to get discharge soon how will I get batteries and my friends will be jealous of me know , How will I show them these all they will break them "
When I went to my optimistic kid
"He was smiling looking at manure "
Boy why are you smiling I asked ."There must be a pony out there !" he said grinning
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Everything lies
Have you encountered a person who has never lied before? If you have, and he says he is a virgin, then believe me he is lying.
A son wanted to out wit with his grandfather, he posed some mathematical questions thinking the old soul will never process and find out the right.
"Hey grandpa can I ask a question" said the son to which his grandfather replied the obvious answer "yes, why not my child"
He asked some of the most difficult problems in his book which were highlighted as he was not able to solve it himself.
Giving a glance grandfather said ,"The numbers are lying here my child!"
"Ha ha grandpa you are a fool you don't know how to solve and you come up with an excuse" he said, giving a bright beam.
"Can I ask you a question, it's simple, " grandpa said.
"Yes , I am smart" he said proudly
" If one man builds a garage in 12 days how much time will it take to build if 12 men did the same?"
" 1 day of course "
" Then I suppose 288 men could build it in an hour and 17280 in a minute while 1036800 in a fraction of second."
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Have you encountered a person who has never lied before? If you have, and he says he is a virgin, then believe me he is lying.
A son wanted to out wit with his grandfather, he posed some mathematical questions thinking the old soul will never process and find out the right.
"Hey grandpa can I ask a question" said the son to which his grandfather replied the obvious answer "yes, why not my child"
He asked some of the most difficult problems in his book which were highlighted as he was not able to solve it himself.
Giving a glance grandfather said ,"The numbers are lying here my child!"
"Ha ha grandpa you are a fool you don't know how to solve and you come up with an excuse" he said, giving a bright beam.
"Can I ask you a question, it's simple, " grandpa said.
"Yes , I am smart" he said proudly
" If one man builds a garage in 12 days how much time will it take to build if 12 men did the same?"
" 1 day of course "
" Then I suppose 288 men could build it in an hour and 17280 in a minute while 1036800 in a fraction of second."
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Annie, she was scraching the table sitting on her bed near her window.It was late 1 O clock. She was just wondering how should she kill this time. She recieved a message from David his friend.
David:"Hey hey hey are you up?"
Annie:" yup"
David:"What are you doin?"
Annie:" nothing just tryna sleeping"
David:"Wooo"
Annie:" wht are u upto david?"
David:" Studying "
Annie:" just throw it away when did you started studin "
David:" Ha ha "
Annie:" the wind is sassing loud"
David:" aaa Yesss "
Annie:" I feel somethin ill"
David: "What happened"
Annie : " nothin I heard some squealing noise"
David:"Ahh cut it out, I have to tell you something "
Annie " yup tell me"
David: "This friend Jonny my oh my he proposed me today"
Annie: " you accepted it right ?"
Annie " joking"
David : "I said nooo "
Annie: " oooo"
David : " He was like mad for me"
Annie : " Ah someone's in my garden"
Annie: " is it some sort of prank david is it you? It looks like you "
David : " Funny hah I am texting you here"
Annie: " looks like you he is digging the garden "
David :" Annie just call your parents"
Annie : " I am home alone"
David : " Shall I call the cops?
Annie : " omg omg he is breaking the door"
David : "What Annie Annie"
David "hello Annie?
Annie : " he is in the house approaching upstairs what should I do???? "
David: " Be calm take something sharp maybe a knife"
Annie : " he is on the stairs what do i do?
David : " I have called the cops be calm"
Annie : " Do you love me David?.Tell me do you?"
David: " This aint the time to ask this stuff"
Annie : " The sound is moving far away."
David : " Wait there till the cops come"
Annie : " Yes I will wait forever. David tell do you love me ?:
David " Annie..."
Annie :" David he is gone. Do not worry he left the house."
David: " How do I know this is Annie?"
Annie left the chat.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
David:"Hey hey hey are you up?"
Annie:" yup"
David:"What are you doin?"
Annie:" nothing just tryna sleeping"
David:"Wooo"
Annie:" wht are u upto david?"
David:" Studying "
Annie:" just throw it away when did you started studin "
David:" Ha ha "
Annie:" the wind is sassing loud"
David:" aaa Yesss "
Annie:" I feel somethin ill"
David: "What happened"
Annie : " nothin I heard some squealing noise"
David:"Ahh cut it out, I have to tell you something "
Annie " yup tell me"
David: "This friend Jonny my oh my he proposed me today"
Annie: " you accepted it right ?"
Annie " joking"
David : "I said nooo "
Annie: " oooo"
David : " He was like mad for me"
Annie : " Ah someone's in my garden"
Annie: " is it some sort of prank david is it you? It looks like you "
David : " Funny hah I am texting you here"
Annie: " looks like you he is digging the garden "
David :" Annie just call your parents"
Annie : " I am home alone"
David : " Shall I call the cops?
Annie : " omg omg he is breaking the door"
David : "What Annie Annie"
David "hello Annie?
Annie : " he is in the house approaching upstairs what should I do???? "
David: " Be calm take something sharp maybe a knife"
Annie : " he is on the stairs what do i do?
David : " I have called the cops be calm"
Annie : " Do you love me David?.Tell me do you?"
David: " This aint the time to ask this stuff"
Annie : " The sound is moving far away."
David : " Wait there till the cops come"
Annie : " Yes I will wait forever. David tell do you love me ?:
David " Annie..."
Annie :" David he is gone. Do not worry he left the house."
David: " How do I know this is Annie?"
Annie left the chat.
#review #shortstory #shashwat
Meeting with God.
- Shashwat Srivastava
Sometimes we forget to appreciate the value of a smile, a touch, or even love. It takes courage to stand forward, and applaud for little things that happen in our life.
Will a cheerful boy of five, he loved singing, dancing, learning , and a myriad of things which are common desires. There was a spark in the boy, his eyes carried a gentle feeling of love. Casting on one who lacks warmth .
He lived in a little house, the word "house" might not rightly describe his dwelling, it was a one room house we often address as "chawl". There was no separate kitchen or rooms, just a little palace in which his family of four lived.
We adjust to our surroundings be it a big mansion having halls as big as colonies or be it a sweet little place, where murmuring covers the bare silence, small rooms overshadow the big mansion like rooms.
The dwelling ground was the size of an average hall in middle class houses, it began with a door making a squealing ear-killing sound followed by a wall which was shattered by moisture, the ceiling was like a bent old man ready to collapse if the broken supporting pillars were removed.
The house was painted with blue -berry color, his house was on the first floor so one has to take a ride of iron ladders, climbing what many people sweat.
Will's mother was an ill tempered, pious looking lady with hairs combined with streaks of white and black. Working day and night had turned her pale skin dull and rough, wrinkles took the place of bright and big eyes . It was the nature of hard work that had turned her into an iron lady protected from any kind of danger, be it physical or mental.
Will, a sweet little boy, the one who believes everything that was told to him.The screams and yells of her mothers with some garnished slaps by his elder brother had left him only to one door, the door of god.
Begging was illegal in those days so he used to sell oyster and clams in the near market. His head was tiny compared to the weight they were used to carry. It was his daily schedule, To wake up at six - take the nourishment for the day , hear his mother bleat for some or the other reason and then to walk straight to the marketplace selling Oysters and clams.
He carried a wood knitted basket filled with crunchy coasters on his head, a bottle of white vinegar in his soft hands. He was always bound to earn something and then be back, father hardly you can call him that, he was another bastard, it was his religion to hit Will once a day.
Will went into the bustling marketplace crying,"Oysters,clams " in his honey like voice . His work was hard,still it never took away the smile he bore on his face, a cute countenance.
He indeed made a good sum after crying all day, it was only him and his mother who managed the bread and butter.Father Oh! His job was to lie and drink.
Whatever sum he made, he had a cute little piggy bank or you could say a treasure house he added coins to, he was too young to think of the matters that should have been processed in old heads.
In the market he had his tiny corner reserved,he brought a rag which acted as his grand mat for the entire day, it was only the part when his head had some rest from his -Mother -Father and so called brother. People visited his store with a smile, women often giving him a gentle touch and his tousled hair. He looked with his wonder-waiting eyes serving the oysters with vinegar.
The people around were gentler than you might have thought at least compared to his family. Looking at his weary condition some people paid more than the cost but all days are not the same you know! .Today was a day you would call a dull day, he hardly made anything .His stomach made a rumbling sound.He was tired of eating oysters, anyone on this earth can't bear the same item daily.
He took a step forward,he visited a nearby shop and bought a pocket full of potato chips and some orange juice. It had been ages he had tasted this!, his life was a poor picture of misery.
#shashwat #shortstory #review
- Shashwat Srivastava
Sometimes we forget to appreciate the value of a smile, a touch, or even love. It takes courage to stand forward, and applaud for little things that happen in our life.
Will a cheerful boy of five, he loved singing, dancing, learning , and a myriad of things which are common desires. There was a spark in the boy, his eyes carried a gentle feeling of love. Casting on one who lacks warmth .
He lived in a little house, the word "house" might not rightly describe his dwelling, it was a one room house we often address as "chawl". There was no separate kitchen or rooms, just a little palace in which his family of four lived.
We adjust to our surroundings be it a big mansion having halls as big as colonies or be it a sweet little place, where murmuring covers the bare silence, small rooms overshadow the big mansion like rooms.
The dwelling ground was the size of an average hall in middle class houses, it began with a door making a squealing ear-killing sound followed by a wall which was shattered by moisture, the ceiling was like a bent old man ready to collapse if the broken supporting pillars were removed.
The house was painted with blue -berry color, his house was on the first floor so one has to take a ride of iron ladders, climbing what many people sweat.
Will's mother was an ill tempered, pious looking lady with hairs combined with streaks of white and black. Working day and night had turned her pale skin dull and rough, wrinkles took the place of bright and big eyes . It was the nature of hard work that had turned her into an iron lady protected from any kind of danger, be it physical or mental.
Will, a sweet little boy, the one who believes everything that was told to him.The screams and yells of her mothers with some garnished slaps by his elder brother had left him only to one door, the door of god.
Begging was illegal in those days so he used to sell oyster and clams in the near market. His head was tiny compared to the weight they were used to carry. It was his daily schedule, To wake up at six - take the nourishment for the day , hear his mother bleat for some or the other reason and then to walk straight to the marketplace selling Oysters and clams.
He carried a wood knitted basket filled with crunchy coasters on his head, a bottle of white vinegar in his soft hands. He was always bound to earn something and then be back, father hardly you can call him that, he was another bastard, it was his religion to hit Will once a day.
Will went into the bustling marketplace crying,"Oysters,clams " in his honey like voice . His work was hard,still it never took away the smile he bore on his face, a cute countenance.
He indeed made a good sum after crying all day, it was only him and his mother who managed the bread and butter.Father Oh! His job was to lie and drink.
Whatever sum he made, he had a cute little piggy bank or you could say a treasure house he added coins to, he was too young to think of the matters that should have been processed in old heads.
In the market he had his tiny corner reserved,he brought a rag which acted as his grand mat for the entire day, it was only the part when his head had some rest from his -Mother -Father and so called brother. People visited his store with a smile, women often giving him a gentle touch and his tousled hair. He looked with his wonder-waiting eyes serving the oysters with vinegar.
The people around were gentler than you might have thought at least compared to his family. Looking at his weary condition some people paid more than the cost but all days are not the same you know! .Today was a day you would call a dull day, he hardly made anything .His stomach made a rumbling sound.He was tired of eating oysters, anyone on this earth can't bear the same item daily.
He took a step forward,he visited a nearby shop and bought a pocket full of potato chips and some orange juice. It had been ages he had tasted this!, his life was a poor picture of misery.
#shashwat #shortstory #review
Meeting with God.
- Shashwat Srivastava
Sometimes we forget to appreciate the value of a smile, a touch, or even love. It takes courage to stand forward, and applaud for little things that happen in our life.
Will a cheerful boy of five, he loved singing, dancing, learning , and a myriad of things which are common desires. There was a spark in the boy, his eyes carried a gentle feeling of love. Casting on one who lacks warmth .
He lived in a little house, the word "house" might not rightly describe his dwelling, it was a one room house we often address as "chawl". There was no separate kitchen or rooms, just a little palace in which his family of four lived.
We adjust to our surroundings be it a big mansion having halls as big as colonies or be it a sweet little place, where murmuring covers the bare silence, small rooms overshadow the big mansion like rooms.
The dwelling ground was the size of an average hall in middle class houses, it began with a door making a squealing ear-killing sound followed by a wall which was shattered by moisture, the ceiling was like a bent old man ready to collapse if the broken supporting pillars were removed.
The house was painted with blue -berry color, his house was on the first floor so one has to take a ride of iron ladders, climbing what many people sweat.
Will's mother was an ill tempered, pious looking lady with hairs combined with streaks of white and black. Working day and night had turned her pale skin dull and rough, wrinkles took the place of bright and big eyes . It was the nature of hard work that had turned her into an iron lady protected from any kind of danger, be it physical or mental.
Will, a sweet little boy, the one who believes everything that was told to him.The screams and yells of her mothers with some garnished slaps by his elder brother had left him only to one door, the door of god.
Begging was illegal in those days so he used to sell oyster and clams in the near market. His head was tiny compared to the weight they were used to carry. It was his daily schedule, To wake up at six - take the nourishment for the day , hear his mother bleat for some or the other reason and then to walk straight to the marketplace selling Oysters and clams.
He carried a wood knitted basket filled with crunchy coasters on his head, a bottle of white vinegar in his soft hands. He was always bound to earn something and then be back, father hardly you can call him that, he was another bastard, it was his religion to hit Will once a day.
Will went into the bustling marketplace crying,"Oysters,clams " in his honey like voice . His work was hard,still it never took away the smile he bore on his face, a cute countenance.
He indeed made a good sum after crying all day, it was only him and his mother who managed the bread and butter.Father Oh! His job was to lie and drink.
Whatever sum he made, he had a cute little piggy bank or you could say a treasure house he added coins to, he was too young to think of the matters that should have been processed in old heads.
In the market he had his tiny corner reserved,he brought a rag which acted as his grand mat for the entire day, it was only the part when his head had some rest from his -Mother -Father and so called brother. People visited his store with a smile, women often giving him a gentle touch and his tousled hair. He looked with his wonder-waiting eyes serving the oysters with vinegar.
The people around were gentler than you might have thought at least compared to his family. Looking at his weary condition some people paid more than the cost but all days are not the same you know! .Today was a day you would call a dull day, he hardly made anything .His stomach made a rumbling sound.He was tired of eating oysters, anyone on this earth can't bear the same item daily.
He took a step forward,he visited a nearby shop and bought a pocket full of potato chips and some orange juice. It had been ages he had tasted this!, his life was a poor picture of misery.
#shortstory #review #shashwat
- Shashwat Srivastava
Sometimes we forget to appreciate the value of a smile, a touch, or even love. It takes courage to stand forward, and applaud for little things that happen in our life.
Will a cheerful boy of five, he loved singing, dancing, learning , and a myriad of things which are common desires. There was a spark in the boy, his eyes carried a gentle feeling of love. Casting on one who lacks warmth .
He lived in a little house, the word "house" might not rightly describe his dwelling, it was a one room house we often address as "chawl". There was no separate kitchen or rooms, just a little palace in which his family of four lived.
We adjust to our surroundings be it a big mansion having halls as big as colonies or be it a sweet little place, where murmuring covers the bare silence, small rooms overshadow the big mansion like rooms.
The dwelling ground was the size of an average hall in middle class houses, it began with a door making a squealing ear-killing sound followed by a wall which was shattered by moisture, the ceiling was like a bent old man ready to collapse if the broken supporting pillars were removed.
The house was painted with blue -berry color, his house was on the first floor so one has to take a ride of iron ladders, climbing what many people sweat.
Will's mother was an ill tempered, pious looking lady with hairs combined with streaks of white and black. Working day and night had turned her pale skin dull and rough, wrinkles took the place of bright and big eyes . It was the nature of hard work that had turned her into an iron lady protected from any kind of danger, be it physical or mental.
Will, a sweet little boy, the one who believes everything that was told to him.The screams and yells of her mothers with some garnished slaps by his elder brother had left him only to one door, the door of god.
Begging was illegal in those days so he used to sell oyster and clams in the near market. His head was tiny compared to the weight they were used to carry. It was his daily schedule, To wake up at six - take the nourishment for the day , hear his mother bleat for some or the other reason and then to walk straight to the marketplace selling Oysters and clams.
He carried a wood knitted basket filled with crunchy coasters on his head, a bottle of white vinegar in his soft hands. He was always bound to earn something and then be back, father hardly you can call him that, he was another bastard, it was his religion to hit Will once a day.
Will went into the bustling marketplace crying,"Oysters,clams " in his honey like voice . His work was hard,still it never took away the smile he bore on his face, a cute countenance.
He indeed made a good sum after crying all day, it was only him and his mother who managed the bread and butter.Father Oh! His job was to lie and drink.
Whatever sum he made, he had a cute little piggy bank or you could say a treasure house he added coins to, he was too young to think of the matters that should have been processed in old heads.
In the market he had his tiny corner reserved,he brought a rag which acted as his grand mat for the entire day, it was only the part when his head had some rest from his -Mother -Father and so called brother. People visited his store with a smile, women often giving him a gentle touch and his tousled hair. He looked with his wonder-waiting eyes serving the oysters with vinegar.
The people around were gentler than you might have thought at least compared to his family. Looking at his weary condition some people paid more than the cost but all days are not the same you know! .Today was a day you would call a dull day, he hardly made anything .His stomach made a rumbling sound.He was tired of eating oysters, anyone on this earth can't bear the same item daily.
He took a step forward,he visited a nearby shop and bought a pocket full of potato chips and some orange juice. It had been ages he had tasted this!, his life was a poor picture of misery.
#shortstory #review #shashwat
Once I saw a clock tick tock,
Then I just sat back and thought,
What is time?
I questioned myself on and on
Peering books from dusk till dawn .
Sitting back still I wonder
Is it time or my brain did blunder?
What is time?
Is it just what passes off,
making one dull and dwarf?
What I make of time is
Its not just bit of science,
What is time I asked myself ;
And this is what I got-
Its a circle round and round
Moving smoothly has no bound,
Life is eternal it never dies
So is time it never flies .
It goes repeating on and on ,
Time I think of what I can
Is just an eternal loop
Never we know it where began
Never we know its end.
#poem #review #shashwat
Then I just sat back and thought,
What is time?
I questioned myself on and on
Peering books from dusk till dawn .
Sitting back still I wonder
Is it time or my brain did blunder?
What is time?
Is it just what passes off,
making one dull and dwarf?
What I make of time is
Its not just bit of science,
What is time I asked myself ;
And this is what I got-
Its a circle round and round
Moving smoothly has no bound,
Life is eternal it never dies
So is time it never flies .
It goes repeating on and on ,
Time I think of what I can
Is just an eternal loop
Never we know it where began
Never we know its end.
#poem #review #shashwat