Category Archives: Short Story

BIOWEAPONS AND A VERY SCARY FUTURE (shared)

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Our Young Friend (from the photo he has posted on his profile!) who calls himself ‘Sandomina,’ has written this very well written article, which I am sharing in what must be known to You all by now — my copy and paste method, for the usual reasons.

A VERY GOOD READ. Even the comments make good reading. Do peruse.

BIOWEAPONS AND A VERY SCARY FUTURE

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Tales from Dumbukistan (1)

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In galaxy 0.02, in planet Kerth, Right in the middle of the oceans, existed the prosperous land of Dambukistan.

 

It had a population of 834, and everybody was happy.

The people had to pay 1 silver piece per day to get work. And they received no salaries. Such were the rules.

Now the Giter was the ugliest creature possible, hence it was declared a protected species.

But the son of the GM, the highest office holder in the land, had to shoot it right in its backside, with his unlicensed K47, and what was worse, the kullet was stuck there, right in plain sight, with his name and address written on it. And the Giter was dead, all his five feet up in the air.

But the GM was not worried. He just had to phone up most honourable kustis Sri Sri Sri Potato, You see. So he did.

Now kustis Sri Sri Sri Potato liked to sleep 8 months a year, [ and what do You know, their ‘year’ coincided with ours right to the minute, but that is not the point, ]. The kustis had just woken up, and was having his favourite meal of fried kotatoes, when the GM’s call came in.

The kustis rubbed his hands. That took care of his next 5 years supply of kotatoes.

The kourt sat. The kustis wanted to announce the verdict right off. The prosecuter reminded him that the case was just starting. Grumbling, the kustis signalled for things to proceed. He hated the whole idea. He Much preferred sleeping on his comfortable bed. Now he had to do it from his chair. Things were just Not Ok.

77 witnesses spoke, and the case lasted 236 days.

Finally, the kustis Sri Sri Sri Potato gave his verdict: ‘The Giter shot himself.’

Everyone clapped.

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Christmas Miracle

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EXCELLENT Reading for the Season. Shared this on Twitter with the words: ‘Best Christmas Read.’

Serious (Yet Happy) man that I am, I sort of Needed this. What a Beautiful story!

SIGNIFICANT words, in the order of their occurrence:

God knew the bigger plan… Loving someone is the biggest risk in life… when the tears fall, my precious, I will catch every one.

via Christmas Miracle

The Story, and the Author, have me literally in Tears. …A Beautiful story of Love, of Christmas.

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A Heart Touching Love Story

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A Very Beautiful Love Story, indeed.

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Islamic Life

I was in the coffee shop on my college campus studying when two older men came in and sat down on the other side of the room. One of the men started talking about his wife, and when he asked the other man about his wife, this is what was said.Click Here

“Man…I was 21 when I met her. I saw her from across the room and brother…..didn’t nobody have to tell me who she was. I said ‘there goes my wife’, and the rest was history. That girl was something else, man. Every single day, I’d go and work for 12 hours and when I came home, she had dinner on the table waiting on me. After the kids were asleep, we were both so tired that we would go straight to bed just so we could hold each other. I was always content knowing that she was…

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The Hacker

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Hello, Folks! Here is a Short Story (1,350 words), to be part of MY NOVEL. Read this one for now, FOR FREE.

This one is based on Facts, something that happened very, very recently, in Rajasthan in India. For more, please peruse link below.

Now, to My Story, which is set in the 1950’s:

THE HACKER

There was this fellow who was about thirty two years old,
actually quite handsome; dressed well, preferred white pants,
and had a little shawl thrown over his shoulder.

One fine morning he picked up his axe, and proceeded to the
market place, where he found a farm labourer who was about
sixty years old, and told him to come with him. The man
thought that he was going to get some work, so he followed
him.

When he came to a half secluded place, the white panted man
coolly and calmy started hacking the labourer! He jumped
about, found the best angles to attack him with, and the poor
worker was literally hacked into pieces in a few minutes, despite his most piteous moans and pleas.

As the place was only semi secluded, there had been watchers
about. But, frankly speaking, very few people can handle a
man with an axe, and a berserk man at that. They remained as
mesmerised, gruesomely fascinated and helpless spectators;
not able to intervene, nor go away. And they found that the
event lay etched in their minds’ screens all their lives.

The hacker then wiped his axe and his hands on the other
man’s clothes as far as he could, and sauntered back to the
market place. He went to a tea shop, sat on one of the benches
provided there, and ordered tea, which was given him by the
shop keeper, who noticed the blood-stained axe, and then the
splatters of blood on the man’s clothes. The hacker’s fierce
looks and mocking smile said that he had not killed a goat
recently.

The tea shop owner, – it is all a one-man business,
the owner making the tea, serving it and collecting the cash,
besides rinsing, yes, rinsing, – nothing more than that, the
glasses. The last nobody minded. Indian stomachs are not too
afraid of germs, and Indian sensibilities can and do put up
with a lot worse.

But truth to tell, when the tea wallah went back to his spot
behind what can only be called the counter, he was urinating
there involuntarily. Yet when the people who had been
patronising the shop walked off trying not to show their
panic, it was not because of the strong smell of the urine.
Finding himseld alone with the killer, the tea shop’s owner
brain told itself to shut down, which it carried out by a faint.

The hacker finished his tea, put a some coins on the counter,
and went off home.

The whole town was buzzing, and the police knew that this
could not be ignored, which it would have preferred. So two
constables were dispatched to fetch the hacker. They went to
his place and told him that the ‘saheb,’ meaning the officer,
the station incharge in this case, wanted ‘to see him.’ The man
followed them.

When they reached the police station, the sub inspector got
up, and with bent head and downcast eyes, just indicated the
cell, to which the man went, which was locked.

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After a few days, wonder of wonders, the hacker was seen
working in his garden. He brought his produce to the market,
which his usual customers bought, without any conversation.

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Six day after the hacking took place, three unidentified youth,
with black cloths covering their faces, turned up at the
hackers little house and knocked; to which the fellow responded
by opening the door, and he did this without fear, albeit with
his axe in hand. The attackers seemed to have planned things.
The short stick, favoured even by many police forces today,
though in many different forms, was used immediately, for
the first blow, which did not give the hacker time to wield his
axe.

Then they dragged him to his garden, where they chopped off
both his legs just below the knees, and his right hand, right at
the shoulder.

They had brought a horse cart with them, without the animal,
which was not a war horse after all, and would have blanched
and refused to move in the presence, particularly of, human
blood. There were old gunny sacks placed there, by intention,
on which they loaded not just the man but also his limbs, and
took him to the railway station, and put him at a little distance
from the main entrance. Next they arranged all his limbs in
front of him, gave him a few kicks, – none of which he felt for
he was in shock yet, spat on him, and departed.

This was all witnessed only by the dogs there, as it was not
the time for any train to pass by. The dogs had barked and
howled a little, and that was that. As for the station staff, the
spot was out of sight to them.

Not so for the passengers and anybody and everybody who
would pass that way to the station the next morning onwards.

But in the meantime, the man had come out of his faint
induced by shock, experienced most funny feelings, saw
things in front of him, which, when he finally felt with his left
hand, he understood to be his own limbs. He fainted many
times after that, and upon repeated sight of his limbs, brought
up quite a few times.

He faced a particular horror as day light was dawning and as
he was coming out of one of his faints, when he found some
dogs dragging away his hand, which they started to make a
meal of some distance away. Reality was beginning to dawn
on him.

The first train was only at a few minutes past five in the
morning, and those who had come early for it thought of him
only as a beggar, the other limbs in front of him being not too
visible. Nobody paid much attention anyway.

But of those who alighted, the light increasing with every minute, the parents had to shield their children’s eyes from this horror, and later some women were telling their husbands, “Kuch karo na jee,” meaning, please do something. The men escaped with throwing a few coins in front of the man on the ground.

News of a person in horrible conditions reached the station
master’s ears. He came, had a look see, and sent for two
janitors. When they arrived they were told to bury the man’s
limbs, the hand included, which lay half eaten some distance
away, and later they pulled the man under a tree, for the
station premises are common ground for people, beggars
included.

Sometime later a more generous man brought the fellow a
glass of tea from a tea vendor, paying also for the tumbler,
and placed it in front of the hacker who only glared at him.

At about ten o’clock, a kind Samaritan noticed the undrunk
tea, threw it out for it was quite cold by now, took the tumbler and brought some fresh tea, went near the man, and with a kind look on his face, squatted near him, and brought the tumbler near the man’s
lips. What he got in return was the hacker’s hand at his throat,
and it was a fierce grip.

People started shouting at this, which brought the lone policeman who had arrived for duty there, to the spot. He noticed what was happening, went around and positioned himself, raised his lathi and brought it down in a solid blow above the hacker’s elbow, on the upper arm. It is a bone that is easily broken, and it did. The hacker fainted once again, and the Samaritan was lifted and brought to a bench to recover and offered tea.

Both the hacker and society got enough time to reflect on
what had, and could, and should, happen to the evil minded.

The link: [Viewer discretion advised ]

PS: For a little sequel to this, please click here.

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The Nuclear ‘Egg.’

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[ Hello, Folks! My First attempt at a Short Story. Got this idea while I was travelling in the Bus today. Please don’t forget to give me a Feedback. Would Appreciate that Very much. 🙂 ]

Once there was a king in Kukkooland, and he had a son. The Prince was brought up with Kurkure, Lays, Maggi Noodles and all sorts of things like that. Coddled like that, he was quite a spoilt little boy. And thus one day he told his father that he wanted a Snake to play with.

His Mother was upset no end, but she was a majority of one. The king sent his bestest Mantri all over the world, and in time this man reached the land of Eeni-Meeni-Myna-Moe, where, he had learnt, the streets were, er, not exactly paved with gold, but the sidewalks were filled with Snake Egg sellers.

Egg!

Image from IGN.com

He visited a few places, and found one filled with certificates! That impressed him. He took out his cell phone and called up the king, and the king told him to bring the thing, dash it.

But the good Vizier tarried. He knew what a Nut the young prince was, (and that he was too! Asking for Snakes as Play things!). So he asked for Guarantees that the eggs belonged to harmless species. The merchant was very happy to provide that. Along with two eggs, he was given a certificate signed by no less than 37 experts. (They all looked very important). The merchant also said his men would go over and see to the erecting of the factory, er, the hatching of the eggs, and that duly happened.

The eggs hatched, and the prince was simply delighted. He even reduced the time he was spending with his smart phone, to play with the Snakes.

But once again, the Queen was disturbed.

“These snakes look So Dark and Black; they Must be Poisonous ones,” said she.

“Ho Ho,” laughed the good king.

But, to please his wife, he called his Mantri and told him to have a look. This man was perturbed, it was he who had brought the blasted things, after all. He called upon the Raj Vaidya (Royal Physician) and they both had a goooood look, and pronounced them dangerous. The Gardeners all said that they were Cobras.

But the prince would have none of it. And, he had quite a few supporters! Those who had to feed them, keep their cages clean, prepared hot water for them, and fixed the lights, etc.

“Oh, Your Majesty, they are such Lovely things; and the Prince Loves them So!” they said.

“Your Majesty, You have invested some 17 Billion Crore rupees on them. Think of that,” said the Treasurer.

“The Prince is throwing a Tantrum; he will pick up a fever if he does not have them,” advised the Maids who attended on the prince.

“The Removal of the Snakes would cause loss of Livelihood to 374 people,” vociferated the Trade Unions.

And there was this Visiting Professor. He took out his magnifying glass, put on his gloves and had a look at the creatures, and wisely pronounced: “Nothing will happen to the prince, so long as you cover up the lower 6 inches of his legs.”

Finally the king, called his Mantri, and said, “Next time, be more careful.”

“But Your Majesty,” asked that Wise Vizier, “What about these two?”

“Oh, We seem to have Invested quite a lot in this adventure,” said the king, and left it at that. He was a professional politician, after all.

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