Kids Stories · Motivational · Short Stories · Stories

Reward

By Kritadhi Chakraborty

When Tisha’s dad came back home after his post dinner walk, he was a bit unusual that day.

He sat on the sofa with his eyes clothes and head resting on the cushion.

Tisha, an eight-year-old, lived with her parents on the fourteenth floor of a luxury apartment.

Every night, since they had shifted about a year ago, Tisha’s mom packs rice, curry and some extras from the day for the stray dogs.

In their society, stray dogs are not allowed to enter. Feeding stray dogs anywhere near the main gate is a big “No!” from the association as that seem to cause a lot of trouble to the residents.

Tisha’s dad carries the package to a nearby low lit street. There are at least some three to four regulars for the nightly meal.

“Today I was attacked by two bike-men you know?”. Tisha’s dad started saying after having two glasses of water. Tisha’s mom was shocked, “What?? Are you okay?”

“Yes! You won’t believe how I got saved today! I reached for my wallet and was about to give all the money I had to those men. All of a sudden those dogs started barking at the bike-men and many more dogs joined in no time. Couple of them climbed on the bike. Probably thinking that they may get into trouble due to the noise made by the dogs, the bike-men fled” Tisha’s dad took a pause.

“I can’t thank God enough for sending His messengers today to save me”. Tisha could see gratefulness and joy of being rewarded in the eyes of her dad that day.

She felt for the first time what they meant by saying, “Showing kindness to animals is an act of service to God”.

Motivational · Short Stories · Stories

Don’t ask why, deal with it

Yet another announcement. Now for the 3rd position. Amy looked up with hope. Awful, this time again the 10-year-old, had to clap for one more fellow competitor. Her face went pale. Her mother looked at her, gently touched her head. The 4th position was announced for a girl of some other school. Amy looked down once again. A soft voice stirred her up. “Clap Amy”. It was her father smiling at her. Amy clapped with disappointed at heart.

“The award for the 5th position goes to Amy.”

Amy’s parents were overjoyed at the announcement. A faint smile on Amy’s face.

The family returned home. It was late evening, they were tired.

Amy could not speak at dinner table. “What happened Amy?”

Gush of warm tears rolled down her cheeks. She could not reply to her mother, wept bitterly.

Her parents were silent, they could probably understand.

Amy spoke almost after 30 minutes.

“I will never participate in any competition again. I worked hard, prepared well, and delivered my best but I stood fifth. You both were wrong. I don’t think hard work is the pillar of success.” Amy burst out in tears and cried out loud in despair.

Absolute silence in the room for almost 5 minutes.

Her father, Rohan, an engineer by profession broke the silence. “Amy my dear, your performance was excellent today. You stood fifth among 200 interschool participants in the story telling competition. You are one of the top 5 participants. We are proud of you. Your hard work and perseverance were rewarded.”

Amy looked at her father, her face looked eager to hear more.

Rohan, continued, “Have you not seen your mother and me working till late hours? You need not top a competition to prove your efforts. Even after hours of hard work, all your efforts might turn futile. We must work hard to give our best to stay in the race.”

Amy’s mother, Sree was listening silently. She has seen uncertainties in her career despite all the hard work and diligence she has put through. Sree has always been strong to handle her emotions and learn through her experiences.

Sree was trying to join the dots.

“Amy dear”, Sree spoke tenderly. “Don’t be upset. There are situations in our life which are beyond our control. The kids who ranked the top four might or might not have done as much as hard work you did. Even the ones who were among the bottom few ranks might have tried harder than you did and might be more capable than the toppers. There are multiple factors that determine success.”

Amy looked at her mother with curiosity.

“Amy, provided you did not work so hard, you would not have presented so well. Even the position you secured would have been far from reach. The performance of other competitors, the experience and understanding of the judges, your delivery on the moment, your content and many more such aspects play deterministic role in a competition. You have successfully performed well.”

Sree paused for a while and looked at her daughter’ glowing face.

“Success is not determined by a rank or by immediate gains. You have successfully gained experiences and have learnt several new concepts. Hard work makes you active at mind and helps you learn better. You must look forward and prepare for upcoming challenges. Life is full of twists and turns, and you must gracefully adapt to every situation in life.”

Sree smiled.

“You should know how to tackle each moment life unfolds to you. Remember Amy don’t just ask why but try to deal with every situation.”

Amy smiled. She was listening carefully until this time. That day indeed changed her life.

Amy is now in her late thirties and works for an MNC. Life has shown her how to stay confident and how to accept the uncertain turns.

Today, when Amy received her promotion letter on email, she was overjoyed. I could see her eyes glittered. She is my roommate; you may also call her my soulmate.

I found her speaking to her parents on a phone call.

In the afternoon we were sitting in the balcony of our hostel room. When I congratulated her, Amy narrated the story of the 10-year-old Amy. She smiled and said, “I have faced wins and failures in multiple competitions, have experienced multiple instabilities in my education and profession, have confronted moments of separations, but have always tried not to just ask why, not to just give up, but deal with the unfavourable situations and to embrace the favourable ones.”

I was thrilled. “Your promotion is just one more experience and life wants you to deal with it.” Amy smiled.

Kids Stories · Stories

Crocodile’s tears

He once again requested, “Please Mr. Shopkeeper, give me that yellow toffee.”

The angry thrifty shopkeeper howled, “Go away. I told you several times that it costs a rupee. I cannot give you any if you do not give me money. I don’t do charity.”

As usual, he felt bad and slowly went back to the swamp at the back of the shop, where he stays alone. It is the only shop in that small village next to the swamp. Croco wanted to taste a toffee since he saw some village kids eating them almost a year ago while playing on the dry land near his house, the swamp.

Croco is a brown colored modest sized crocodile. He has a broad snout, a big tail and enlarged scutes around the neck. Unlike other crocodiles he is a vegetarian… yes, a true vegetarian. He eats only the weeds growing in the swamp. Croco has two other unique features- he likes to hear the music that the shopkeeper plays in the music system and always longs to taste whatever he finds the kids in the area eat while playing around. He has tasted two different types of biscuits and an ice cream in the last year. These he got from the previous shopkeeper who was very kind and who sold out the shop and has shifted to the city.

Several days passed after this almost in a similar routine. One fine morning as the shopkeeper shouted a little more than the other days, Croco felt very upset and instantly started crying loudly in front of the shop. He kept on beating the soil with his heavy tail as he cried.

The shopkeeper and the two customers present then were stupefied. One of the customers exclaimed, “I have never seen such a crybaby crocodile!” The shopkeeper said, “Hmmm… he is really very sad. I had been very harsh to him for such a long time, which I was not supposed to be. I should give him a toffee today. Come Croco …come, come…I will give you the yellow toffee!” The other customer cautioned, “Dear shopkeeper never believe a crocodile’s tears.”

However, Croco came forward and started dancing and singing as soon as he tasted the lemon-flavored yellow toffee. “Oh, it is yummy…Thank you Dear shopkeeper. I want to eat more toffees. Would you mind if I request you to give me one every day?”

The shopkeeper was so delighted to see the crocodile’s dance that he promised to give a toffee every day to Croco. The customers alerted him not to entertain the crocodile every day, but the shopkeeper did not pay heed to what they said and regularly gave a toffee to Croco. Croco enjoyed the yellow toffee and stayed happily.

As days passed Croco started to crave for and demand several other colorfully wrapped food items like the ice creams, biscuits, and the other chocolates to name a few. Initially the shopkeeper used to give him as requested, but later as he found Croco’s increasing demand knows no bound he refused to give him anymore. He said, “Croco, you are demanding too much nowadays. You should not be so greedy. How will I gain profit if I keep on giving you so many food items everyday free of cost? Again, the kids in this area are complaining as they do not get proper supply of their likings. I can only give you the yellow toffees daily as promised if you be sober.”

Croco said, “Okay…” and taking the toffee said, “Sorry, I won’t disturb again. I will be happy if you give me the yellow toffees alone.”

This went on peacefully the following two days. However, Croco could not control his greed. The next day in the morning Croco once again started demanding and this time he harshly asked for the new stock of biscuits. The shopkeeper got angry and rebuked him for his greed. However to the shopkeeper’s utter surprise, Croco replied rudely, “Remember shopkeeper, I am a strong crocodile and I will attack you and badly injure you with my sword like sharp and healthy teeth if you don’t follow what I say or if you stop me in anyway.” Saying so Croco without any prior signal marched straight into the shop and promptly clasped a jar of brown biscuits. The shopkeeper when attempted to snatch the jar, Croco became violent and threatened to bite the shopkeeper. The customers present there, and the passersby started shouting and throwing stones at Croco. Leaving the jar Croco then targeted to attack the shopkeeper and as he opened his mouth and attempted to bite the shopkeeper and tear his legs, someone from the accumulated crowd shouted, “Shopkeeper, you press his big eyes.”

The shopkeeper without a moment’s delay, pressed the eyes of the crocodile. Croco struggled to free his eyes but could not. He found the pressure on his eyes painful and everything turned dark in front of him. He found himself vigourless. The agile and crazy crowd actively came forward and tied the crocodile with a rope. Some continued throwing stones at the crocodile. The crocodile growled and cried out of pain. Realizing his mistake and repenting over the erratic behavior of his own, Croco sputtered, “I am sorry. Please leave me. I understood my mistakes. I was greedy and the result of greed is always unpleasant. Please forgive me.”  The shopkeeper then freed Croco’s eyes and requested others to stop hurting Croco. “Then promise to leave the swamp.” Said the shopkeeper. Unwilling Croco had to pay for his greed and left the swamp forever.

Short Stories · Stories

That evening in Niharika’s life

The sun peeped out and the darkness of the horrible last night hid somewhere with a lurch. She slowly got down from the bed. She was still in a trance. She went down to her office, with her husband, by car, to seek leave for a week as she was unable to concentrate in anything. They managed to meet her manager and her husband spoke to him for almost an hour. Finally, holding out the leave letter, she could only say, “Sir, the copy of the FIR is attached to this”.

Previous night Niharika, my dearest friend could not sleep. Whenever she tried to relax, she could only see those greedy violent eyes staring at her. The darkness of the night made her mind travel through all the horror stations. The polite but bold lady with brown hair and magnificent look, kept on crying like an innocent child in the arms of her love incessantly for hours together.

She was deputed to a rural branch of an esteemed Bank in a remote village on office duty for a week and it was the third day. Like the previous two days she had to travel long distance by bus through undulated half broken roads of the village filled with potholes, far away from her residence. It was a very tiresome day. Usually after getting down from the bus, she returns home by an auto rickshaw. She looked out of the bus before getting down. Bewildered by the sweet twilight, unlike the other days, she suddenly planned not to return home by an auto rickshaw. Thus, she planned to cover those two Kilometers towards her home by a walk. When the churidar clad lady in her late twenties after a walk of more than a Kilometer through the busy Indian street reached the open road of the Housing premises, the winter evening turned dark. Before reaching the gate of the Apartments campus, she had to stroll through the Housing Board common road for more than half a kilometer. The streetlights at greater intervals hardly brightened up the entire street. There was barely anybody she could see (as far as her vision covers) on her way in that winter evening. She walked down the road for a minute or two when suddenly a truck coming from the opposite direction heading out of the Housing Board stopped in front of her. She was passing by the truck, when suddenly, she heard somebody from inside the truck calling her.

“Madam… Excuse me Madam!”, yelled the truck driver.

She usually dares not to speak to anyone unknown in any odd place for the purpose of self-security. However, realizing that she is quite near to her flat she stopped and looked at the driver.

“Madam, I am trying to locate an address, please help me.”  said the driver. “Where is the second main first cross here in this Housing Board?”, he continued in Kannada in a native dialect.

Niharika is from a different state. She struggles speaking the local language spoken in Karnataka.

“Gottilla (meaning ‘I don’t know’ in Kannada). This address is not here.” she said in broken Kannada.

Usually the roads of Bangalore are marked as cross and mains but in the Housing Board campus it is not so.

The driver turned the pages of a notebook, and forwarded it to her saying, “What language do you speak? Tamil or Kannada? The address is correct, please see in this notebook Madam.”

She saw the page is empty. Sensing something fishy, giving back the notebook, replied, “You ask someone else.”

The driver scribbled something on the notebook and stretched it towards her again, saying, “Oh I turned the wrong page. Please check this, I wrote it clearly.”

It contained only few scratched lines. She felt something suspicious is going on. She did not speak again and started moving forward on her way. Suddenly, she felt somebody pulling her strongly from the back. She with all her might nudged the driver away and started walking faster. The driver then adamantly tried to force her into the truck. God was with her. She elbowed him and once again managed to free herself. This time she started running as fast as she could towards her home along the empty road. After running continuously for a certain distance, she stopped and looked around. She screamed out something in the open darkness to reach every individual. However, she felt her voice could not reach anybody. There was no one nearby. Her heart beating fast signaled her to run again faster. A car from somewhere suddenly came near her. The person inside approached her saying, “I saw the incident from a distance while driving. Please come inside,I will drop you.”

She did not trust him. She somehow said, “Thanks. I will manage to go.”

The car moved forward. She started walking very fast. The man in the car, came back to her once again saying, “The truck is near the gate.  You run inside the campus. I will be here following you. Don’t be afraid. Run in. Soon…”

As she neared the campus gate, she probably saw the truck. The gate appeared to be still very far.

She kept on running constantly until she crossed the other two Blocks and reached the third Block. She hit the switch of the lift. She was unable to wait for the door to open. As she reached her flat, she found that the door is not locked from outside. “Then has he not gone to the office today?” her mind spoke.

She pressed the doorbell. Her husband opened the door.

With a smile in his face he said, “I did not go to the office today, working from home.”

She suddenly got angry and said, “Then why did you not tell me when we spoke over the phone? You could drive me home from the bus stop by car.”

“I did not tell you because I thought of giving you a pleasant surprise”, he explained.

“But why dear are you crying?”

Realizing that she is safe now, her eyes busted into tears. Now she felt that she had become weak and beyond self-control. She narrated in a feeble voice the entire incident to her husband while her eyes were over flooded. The sufficiently lighted room appeared hazy as she tried to look through the water brimmed eyes.

“Oh …! How bravely you managed to save yourself! I would not have got you back safe and sound if that notorious being could somehow abduct you. Or I don’t even can imagine what he could have done. May be teared …. Thank God! You are safe.” he exclaimed as he touched her head with care.

Her husband’s words touched her deeply. “Oh my God! I could escape!”

She realized deeply that till then only her brain was working. She was just responding to her stimuli! The adrenalin in her blood once again made her breath heavily. Now realizing what could have happened to her, the heart spoke, “I could also be tortured, abused and finally murdered like many ill-starred women around the country and in fact globally.”

She broke down.

They went straight to the police station and lodged a FIR.  Their neighbors supported them.

She could not eat properly at night. Her calm, patient and supportive husband was with her all the time.

He praised her, tried to pacify her and tried to divert her into all possible ways.

“Don’t get upset. You are brave. See, how boldly you tackled. Cheer up. Tell me, anything special that you want for dinner tonight. Please dear…”

She tried to inform a senior colleague over phone, but it was late night, so could not reach out. They did not let anybody else of their family know about the incident as they would panic from their hometown.

The next day morning she was still in a shock and took leave from her office for a week.

The police told them to step into the police station the next day to identify the culprit. However, they did not go back to the police station anymore. They were concerned that if they face those nasty people, she might perhaps become a target. They wanted to be safe. Moreover, she felt that her brain was unable to process things anymore. She could hardly remember the beast’s face. Only those cruel dirty eyes kept on flashing upon her inner eye.

Even years after this incident whenever a lady from any corner of the globe suffers from terrible experiences, she recollects that day. She realizes that she is just a commoner who along with her family could have suffered severely like those unlucky girls if by chance she could not have managed to escape. The safety of the common people in this so called developed modern civilization is at a stake. If she and her husband would have spoken out or if she would recognize and would point the nasty guy out, or at least if they would present themselves in front of those crime suspects ,they would be a target and would suffer extremes.

She still thinks that the man in the car was God in disguise.

Unlike many others she could escape the ill fate. She now has developed a sense of disbelief on all truck drivers she sees on her way. Whenever she sees a truck, she tries to walk away from it. The incident mentally tormented her. She is now a mother of two. She is scared to let her little daughter speak to any unknown person. She never likes any unknown person trying to mix with the innocent flower.

Who is responsible for the sense of insecurity she is suffering from? Is that the car driver or the society to be blamed? She has forgotten to believe in anybody all through her life’s experiences. Is this not a big loss for her? Why shall the other good truck drivers be distrusted? Who is to be blamed?

Most ladies in the modern days, experience unpleasant approaches to several extents ( if not a very severe attack) at some or the other times . If something untoward happens then the lady gets blamed – sometimes the way she was dressed comes up as a reason of the happening while sometimes her character is questioned, or she is taunted the way she mixed with people.

 Then obviously, why Niharika was attacked?

The day she reported back to office (when no more on deputation), a senior colleague after asking as to what had really happened exclaimed, “These all happened because the way you were dressed insisted him to do so.” Many others supported him and said, “Yeah he is correct.” One young guy, exclaimed “he might have noticed you and your dressing pattern the last few days and finally plunged on you.” Even some of the lady staffs supported them.

Niharika could not reply, her lips quivered as she mumbled something. She was still in a trance. Moreover, she was surprised at their behavior and remarks based on baseless imaginations. She was shocked and now she felt weaker and more uncertain than the last few days.

She tried to remember her husband’s words to cool herself. Moved out of the room silently when others were busy building stories. Kept on speaking to herself.

“Were they present at the spot to find out what dress am I wearing?

What would have they discussed if something more serious would happen to me?

This is just a section of the mass, what would the remaining world have imagined and spoke about me if something more serious and severe would have happened?

Oh! I would suffer till my last breadth and my family would be the loser in all respect.”

Splashed water on her face, cleaned the glasses (hazy due to those incessant flow from both her eyes) with her dupatta. Could not stop her thoughts. It was difficult to face the harsh reality.

Who will protect the women? How will their respect be preserved? If the person would carry any weapon, could I be able to survive? What would happen if I would fail to escape that day?” Niharika is still in search of the answers. 

Niharika, the sweet, bold, smart and determined friend of mine is now suffering from immense mental agony and pressure and looking for a solution.  Many others are finding it hard to get a perfect reply from the … (don’t know who?).

She is not someone to give up. She has a spirit to bounce back and do something for the women. She has slowly started her new journey towards social awareness regarding women and child abuses through her writing and through campaigns supported by some social groups.

“I dream of a blessed society which will protect its women like a father, a brother, a husband, a friend and above all like a responsible citizen and a well-wisher.” Niharika expressed on our last meet.