Samosa - A short story

“Ayya here is today’s earnings” shouted young Velu from the door-step.

“Drop it in the box as usual” retorted his boss from a distant, chewing betel nut .

Each vendor had his own box respectfully, a piggy bank sort of, in which they had to drop the day’s earnings. This was their routine.

Velu dropped the money. “So did you sell extra samosas today?” asked Ayya.

“No Ayya, you know the summer has started and the trains are too crowded nowadays”,Velu expressed with grief.

“Alright! Alright! don’t feel shy to shout, be active with your customers”

“Okay Ayya I’ll leave now” Velu walked out of the house.

The next day Velu started with his job, crying aloud “Samosa! Samosa! 4 for 10! 4 for 10! Sir! Madam! Hot and spicy samosa!”.Velu finished his job as the sun descended down the horizon. After entrusting the earnings to his employer, he met his friends in the theatre as they planned. Velu’s only outlet was cinema. He spared a little money apart from the savings to watch a movie at least, once in a month.

“Didn’t get the tickets? Is it housefull?” Velu enquired his friend.

“No! the movie has been banned” reported his friend. Velu returned back almost devastated.

The next day after finishing his job, he went to Ayya’s house and dropped the day’s money. “Stop Velu!” yelled ayya. Velu’s heart started to beat fast against his chest.

Ayya proceeded in a loud voice, “How much did you drop today?”.

“300 Rupees Ayya”

“Yesterday?”

"As usual 300 Ayya”

“No you didn’t drop 300 yesterday!”

“I promise Ayya I dropped 300”.

“No! what if I prove you wrong? Will you quit this job and give back all the belongings and walk out? I thought you’d be loyal to me, that’s the reason I never check the money you drop”, Ayya flared in fury.

“Ayya I’m sorry, but I didn’t spend a penny from the earnings that day! what would I do without this job?”velu’s eyes almost welled up.

“Go to your mansion! Sleep! Think well and come here tomorrow”

“Okay Ayya” Velu left the place petrified. He felt a lump in his throat which he couldn’t swallow. He ransacked his whole room in the mansion as soon as he reached, waking up his room-mates. He checked his savings and it had the same amount that he had the previous day. He enquired his friends about the missing money. But it turned out to be futile as everyone was proved innocent. He mumbled in a low voice“two 50 rupee notes, ten 10 rupee notes, one 100 rupee note as far as I remember. I would have dropped a note somewhere on the street maybe. God please save me from this!”.  Velu dozed off crying.

       The next day as usual after selling all the samosas, he went to Ayya’s house. “Did you recall anything at all?” asked Ayya with a crooked smile. “No Ayya, forgive me please! It is due to my negligence! here is some money from my savings, I would have missed the money on the street or in train. Please don’t throw me out of this job Ayya!” begged Velu as tears warmed up his cheeks. Ayya suddenly burst into laughter. “Calm down Idiot! You dropped 400 rupees! 100 Rupees more than the normal amount. What if this had happened while selling Samosas? What if you had returned extra money to the customers, do you think they will give you back? Be cautious while handling money, this is business! Never make this mistake again!” smiled Ayya handing a 100 rupee note to Velu.

-THE END-

- Lohithaksha Sreedharan

Edited by: Nivetha Sivasamy

The sinister stranger

 “Oh! Shit! Not this guy again” muttered Vasu masking his face with a handkerchief and pretended to be far asleep. “The first day when this stranger wished me luck, all my photographs were bad, I lost my tripod, the weather was bad and to crown it all I was pulled over by the Army men. And I had a hard time convincing them I was a photographer who came there as a mere tourist and not as a spy. Lord! Please take me back safe to Chennai” Vasu said to himself. So scenic and pleasant was Kashmir that one would pay ten times the fare of bus ticket to get a window seat and to get immersed in the aesthetic beauty of her. But Vasu pretended like a soporific introvert in the bus, while others were marveled at the mountains nestled on the arms of mother nature. The cool breeze, as a result of the previous night’s torrential rain, was leaving slight kisses on his cheeks.  Soon Vasu cuddled up in his seat and fell asleep.

           “Hello Sir!” cried a man who was in his 40s, dressed in a suit with a muffler and wore sport-shoes. Vasu woke up to his greetings, and found the man whom he was trying to avoid sitting next to him.

“Have your photographs come out well?”

 “Yes! Very well” Vasu said trying hard to pull his lips to smile.

“So are you heading back to your hometown young photographer?”

“Yes, I hope the bus will reach Srinagar on time, I need to catch my flight” in need to end the awkward conversation.

 “Don’t worry! We Kashmiris are here to take care of our fellow Indians” exclaimed the man.

The stranger headed towards the driver and placed his hand on the driver’s shoulder which sent shudders through him. The bus lost control and came to a screeching halt as it passed through the slippery road in the dark tunnel. But soon the bus lost friction and rammed into a tree.

       The passers-by came running to help. Luckily, they were not much casualties. The bus conductor started to curse the man “don’t you have any sense? You scared the driver!”.

 The injured passengers were admitted to the nearby hospital which included Vasu. The next day Vasu got back to his senses and was discharged. The accident spared him with a few scars on his fore-head. Near the hospital gate, he again saw his bad-omen, with a broken arm and a sullen face. The man handed over Vasu’s camera kit and walked away without uttering a word.

Vasu headed back to his hotel and inquired about the next possible flight. Opposite to the reception on T.V flashed the news “Jammu and Kashmir has been hit by flood, gobbling up the lives of almost 200 people.  Srinagar and the surrounding villages has been filled with water of about 12 feet, IAF and BSF are at rescue.”  Vasu cursed himself as it continued “all the flight to and from Jammu and Kashmir has been canceled”.  He stayed back in Kashmir against his wishes until the weather was suitable for traveling. He never saw the sinister stranger again.

      One year later….

                         “And the best photograph under the ‘natural disaster’ category goes to Vasu from India. To tell more about him, his photos flashed in all newspapers and journals which shook India and the world in 2014 and saluted the Indian army and its rescue force. He gets the grand prize of $10,000 and a trip to our National Geographic headquarters in Washington DC”.  The whole crowd and media folks gave him a standing ovation.  Vasu, who was speechless by this gesture made his way through the audience and climbed the dais and received the statuette. With the mike fumbling in his hand he began to say “The true reason behind my achievement is a sinister stranger whom I encountered a few months back in Kashmir. I considered him to bring bad omen”. The whole crowd looked puzzled. Vasu continued “Yes indeed, a stranger who made my trip worse is the reason for me to witness the disaster and those despair moments. Volunteering in the rescue force helped me to understand what it means to help and to be helped. This made me become a better person. Who knew that it would change my outlook on life? No one is unlucky. It is the time which makes us feel so. What is bad will turn out to be good someday. If we killed all the black cats which crossed our paths, we would need a Pied Piper in each city. There is a deep seated purpose behind all the incidents .Thank you stranger!”

-Lohithaksha Sreedharan

Edited by: Nivetha Sivasamy

Dying Embers - A short story

                                    

Gazing at the girls inside the college bus which passed by, Shiva rushed to his school to be present, before the Chief Guest inaugurated the function. No matter how hard he planned to reach the premises early, his plans always faltered. As such, cursing the auto-rickshaw drivers, the whole Government behind the Suburban train network and his tummy, he tucked in his shirt again and entered the school. 

That day, there was a food-festival organized in his school. Shiva had a special reason to be happy about it. His role model "Chef Damu" was the honorable chief guest of the event. Shiva's journey in kitchen was embarked on, in a reaction to his friends mocking his stout figure during his childhood.  His friends making fun of his pot-like belly, ate his heart.  Though Shiva was saddened, he sprang up in reprisal to combat these humiliations by turning his negatives into positives. Henceforth, Shiva started to learn more about cooking rather than just shoving the food in his mouth. Shiva expanded his boundaries by experimenting with new recipes, which channeled him to cook on his own. Unlike his peers, his study rack was filled with 'Culinary books' instead of comics and novels. 'Dinner Dash' was his favorite game. Another instance which sets him apart from the rest is that he doesn't curse his mom like the other teens when watching Cookery shows. "Cooking is girls' business" were the common words he heard.  He hid all his culinary books in a resort to not make him look effeminate, when lads of his age hid playboy magazines.

       Shiva was at the peak of excitement as he saw the very possibility of meeting his inspiration whom he had admired so long in television. On entering the portals of the auditorium, he ran back to the backstage panting and wiped off his dripping sweat. The teacher in charge of the event blasted him for being late. Being the ‘school captain’, he secretly enjoyed the privilege of wearing a badge on his blazer. Shiva, being good in both academics and discipline was always in his teachers’ good books. His nature of being friendly to all, had him elected as the ‘school captain’. But to his dismay his fair complexion or his post as the ’school captain’ did not fetch him a girlfriend.
     The students and the teachers were stunned as a white sedan entered the campus. All the students gave a rousing welcome to chef Damu as he made his way to the dais. He was handed bouquet by the principal. The principal guided him to a special brunch prepared for him right after the inauguration. Shiva had a sinking feeling in his heart as he did not have an opportunity to speak to the person, who fed his interest for food.   But Shiva was distracted from his woes as he was flooded with responsibilities like collecting the names and details of all, who were participating in the fest. The day passed for him in a similar note.
   As the day was coming to a close, the chief guest got onto the dais to announce the winner of the fest. Chef Damu began, "Good evening everybody. I am glad to see so many enthusiastic Home-makers from different parts of the city to have come here to participate and win the coveted title. Moreover I thank the Principal of this Diety School Mr. Sadhasivam, for his invitation. This day took me down in a memory lane of my own school days. It's happy to see so many students volunteering with enthusiasm. The culinary world…." the voice trailed off. "Nothing's audible check the speakers" shouted Shiva at his friends. Later the Principal called out the in-charge teacher and said "It's getting late already, request Mr. Damu to announce the winner now".  The teacher walked to the dais and told the same to the culinary luminary. Accepting the request, dr.dhamu announced "Mrs. Gomathi Shekar from Perambur bags the title!". Chef Damu handed over the prize and goodies and posed for a snapshot . The Principal accompanied the Chief guest on his way back to his car. Out of desperation, Shiva ran to his teacher "Ma'am can I speak a few words with Mr. Damu please, I need to ask a few things regarding his career." "Oh come on kid, he is getting late for his shooting" smiled his teacher. "Can I ask the Principal because Mr. Damu doesn't seem like hurrying" Shiva said trying to justify. "You don't want the Principal to lose his temper, do you?  Don't you have your preparatory exams tomorrow? Go home quickly and prepare for it" patted his teacher. He walked away without saying a word.
    Shiva’s heart was clogged with sorrow, like a kid who wasn't allowed to watch his favorite cartoon show. He approached his friends who were professedly in charge of the mics and speakers. Flaring with rage, he spat his words "Why the hell can't you find it on time, why didn't that Damn thing stop working during the time of our rehearsal?" . His friend cut his rant by saying  “stop it! It was done on purpose". Baffled by his retort Shiva stood frozen and choked out "What?". "Yes it was the Principal's order to do so". "But  why? Chef Damu just started to talk to the students about the culinary world“ said Shiva trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. "That is it buddy, why would high school students want to listen about cooking?" He patted on Shiva's back and walked away.
    He reached his home with a heavy heart, ready to cry his heart out in the confinement of his room. Unaware of the climate, Shiva’s parents were overjoyed with his arrival. "Come on Son, we have got a happy news for you" exclaimed his Mom and spoon-fed a Gulab jammoon to Shiva. "But what's the matter maa?" asked Shiva trying to fake a smile. "Remember me saying about my colleague's friend who is the secretary to the Vice chancellor of Amanda College?" asked his father displaying a huge smile on his face. "Oh yeah, NO!" retorted shiva in surprise . "Well, we have blocked a mechanical engineering seat for you. Your semester marks helped to get you this seat, so study peacefully for the board exams and maintain the same score" said his dad in a tone of immense happiness.  "But pa…." dragged shiva.  "Oh don't ask how much I paid for it" chuckled his dad. "That's nice, thanks a lot Pa, I'm a bit tired let me take some rest for now" He went to his room trying to hold back his tears.  "Look how happy he is, there can be no best pre-birthday gift than this?" said Shiva’s dad who was oblivious to shiva’s culinary interests .  "Yes dear" his mom smiled.
                  After hours of crying shiva grew numb to the situation. He sat up on his bed and said to himself "Scoring good marks helped me to get my parents off my back and gave me a little time to spare for myself. I didn't know it would end up like this. Now it's time to permanently hide the culinary books and also my ambition". He laid back and looked at the fan thoughtfully.
                                                                  -THE END-

- Lohithaksha Sreedharan

Edited by: Nivetha Sivasamy

"*THIS WAS NOT WRITTEN FROM A BOY'S POINT OF VIEW!* "- A short story

Story begins...

As soon as the train halted at the Beach station, a huge crowd boarded. Each and every person in the crowd took a glance at me, which included a few old men. It was so disgusting, only my fellow beings would understand my problem. Two boys struggled and came near. Before approaching me they stared at each other. They started arguing as who should approach me first. The heated argument was followed by a fight between the two. I couldn't utter a word or stop them though I was the reason for their fight. I remained silent. In this sequence, they had hit a vendor's basket making all the oranges to fall. This made a huge mess. From their ID cards I came to know that they both were from different colleges. It was tumultuous. This is a common scene in a crowded local train in Chennai. I had faced a hell lot of blues. These  people had even spilt eatables like pakodas, samosas and sometimes even biriyani on me. It is a public transport and they must know their manners. It was very maddening. As the train reached their stop, the boys got down, not even noticing me or giving me a last look. They walked on as if nothing had happened. I was frustrated "I might not be as beautiful as Samantha, you may even get one in SRM University ,but not me" I told myself. Suddenly an old lady sat on me. By the way I forgot to tell about myself I'm just a wooden seat in a local train.

-THE END-

-Lohithaksha Sreedharan

THE LOVE THAT LASTED FOREVER- A short story by Ebin

THE LOVE THAT LASTED FOREVER

Shruthi was in her bed in front of the television, crying.  In the television, news channels were flashing headlines that the flight UA343 which started from Chennai the last day had crashed in the Atlantic Ocean.

“Shruthi, why are you crying?“ the voice of her mother heard from her behind.  She didn’t answer.  She continued crying, and her mother was angry and went out of her room and told her father, “Your daughter is crying and does not answer me, do whatever you want with her.”

Shruthi, she was a very reserved girl.  She does not talk to anyone much. And to strangers she doesn’t even talk.  She only talks to her father openly.  But for the last five months there is a change in her character.

She came running out of her room and hugged her father still crying.  She threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly now crying even bitterly.

“Hey, Shruthi, what happened?”  he asked.  She didn’t mind to reply but was crying still holding him tight in her arms.

“Shruthi, you in love?” again he asked.  She stopped crying and took her arms from his neck and stared at his eyes for a long fifteen seconds.  Then she managed to speak, “How… How did you know?” she asked.

“Who knows my daughter better than me?  Tell me what happened?”  asked her father.

“His name is Karthik .  He attended the interview along with me on the same day, six months back.  He was sitting right next to me in the hall.  He began the conversation by asking my name, although I didn’t answer him he just smiled and wished me good luck and his name was called and he went in.  Then we both got selected and he was in my department.  Once he saw me, he came towards me and gave his hand for a handshake wishing me congratulations, and that day I smiled at him.  Then he was on his work back.  I was quite inspired by his character, he didn’t even bother about the last time I had ignored him.  Then I started talking to him and knew more about him.  And we bonded.  He is very intelligent and smart.  He is also regular at his work.  He is from a lower middle class family and his father died in his childhood.  It was his mother who made him study.  He is the only one earning in his family now.  He has a younger sister, who is in her twelfth standard.  On seeing his perfection in work our team leader selected him as the one who would go on a training program to the U.S.A.  And yesterday he boarded the flight UA343.  I went down to the airport to send him off.  And when he was to go to his pathway he hugged me and whispered in my ears, “I Love You” then he waved me and disappeared in the pathway.  I was thrilled on hearing what he said.  But on my way back home I was so happy.  But my happiness lasted for only thirteen hours.  The flight he had boarded crashed in the Atlantic Ocean and there is no trace of the plane.  My love lasted for only thirteen hours.”  saying this she started to weep.

But her father told her, “If your love for him is true, and you feel that his love for you is true, your love is not dead.  You tell that his family is in need of financial and physical help, you could do that yourself.  If you do this, your love for him will last forever.  I will not force you to marry anybody nor, I will advice you not to marry anybody else.  If you wish to get married, you can marry “

On hearing her father telling this she stopped weeping and hugged her father tight and said, “Thank you dad!  Thank you so much!  I will follow as you said.”  Saying this she went into her room.

An auto driver taught me the lesson of life- A short story

On a pleasant saturday night, I'm in a hurry to reach the theatre. All the auto rickshaws I stop the driver says ''Return savaari varaadhu sir!''. So what can I do? I can't go to the place he desires. Every Chennaite will understand my problem.  Finally an auto driver accepted to go the theatre. He smiled at us as I and my cousin hopped in. And turned the meter on. As I already booked the tickets online, I felt a bit relaxed. A few minutes passed, the auto goes in a moderate speed. And I could look through the rear view mirror the driver was still smiling. I had a mild doubt whether he was drunk, but there was no sign of alcohol smell on him. But he seemed abnormal! The dirver broke the ice and started a conversation. ''Going to watch movie Sir?''. I replied with an yes. My cousin whispered into my ears ''For what else would one go to theatre, for eating popcorn?'' I and my cousin giggled. ''Is it late for the movie sir?''. ''No, we are not so late'' replied my cousin as he was gazing the empty streets. ''Oh okay sir, I actually drive only for long distances, but you seemed to be in a hurry to so I accepted''. ''Oh, Thankyou! And you take only night rides?'' I questioned him. ''No sir I'm 24/7 without sleep, sometimes even a day!''. My cousin chuckled. But his words were not like that of a Liar's. ''Are you serious'' I asked him. ''Yes sir, strong body'' he said with a pride. I feared whether he was a drug addict or something. ''Have you ever dozed while driving? Or do you smoke to get rid of it?''. No sir never! Sleep and hunger won't distract me. Auto is my life it makes me forget everything''. ''So you didn't even eat?''. ''No Sir, I don't feel hungry, if I find a road-side hotel while driving, I eat there once in a day only for metabolism''. But he didn't seem like an auto-addict either. But I was very sure he was abnormal. I felt a bit insecure too. Then what in earth gives him high? There must be something nor one can't do the same odd job everyday without rest. Thankgod we reached our destination. My cousin gave a sigh of relief. I gave him the exact fare, he accepted it with a broad smile and said ''If I go a little further there's my mother-in-law's house''. ''Cool, then go take rest, have dinner and start your routine from morning''. ''Ha ha No sir, it's actually ex mother-in-law, My wife divorced me a few years back''. From then on auto became my home, my companion and my everything. But it couldn't replace my wife''. I was dumb-stuck.
I and my cousin entered the theatre, but I couldn't concentrate on the movie, all that was running in my mind was the Auto Driver. Have you ever drove your car back to your home thinking of something and wondered "How the hell did I reach my place?". Maybe that was the case of his. From that day on I realized, alcohol and drugs are not the only things that ruins you as you get addicted. Being affectionate on someone unreasonably will also make you an addict and ruin you as they walk out of your life.

                                   -THE END-                                                              
                                                                                                                                     -Lohithaksha S
                                                                                                                             (A leaf from my diary)