INDImag – Contemporary fiction | Motivational short stories | Social stories | Short story criticism

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Today, she wrote of what she cooked and how people ate, she wrote about her day, she wrote about her little world and how she dared not dream of more. This was her world she thought. Even in its defined limits, she was in charge here ; she controlled some part of the household.

The one-horse town of Chikkulli in South India had nothing much to speak for itself. Dusty lanes and streets crammed a few shops selling house-hold amenities and the usual stuff. The town had an old temple on the outskirts and an equally rambling church. The people were mostly tradesmen and farmers with lands on the outskirts of the town.

Public speaking is considered the greatest fear a person can have, even greater than the fear of death. However research shows that a significant factor in people being promoted at work is the ability to express one’s self in public or at a meeting, concisely and effectively, no matter how large the gathering. Like all mothers my mother dreamed about me having a successful career right from my childhood.

For want of a better thing to do, I thought I’ll organize my photos. And, quite predictably, I went on time travel, and by the time I got back, it was too late to carry on with the task. But what a journey it was!

The first time she spoke a word, it didn’t even occur to me to record it or write it down. Her first word could have been anything. I don’t know and never will. The reason being at the precise moment my other one was screaming, ‘Mummy! Help me!’

They say “Some people are born great, some people become great, some people have greatness thrust upon them” Similarly some people are born hunch backs like the Quasimodo of ‘Hunchback of Notre dame’. Others through their exertions, taking greater and greater loads on their back, instead of achieving greatness, end up with broken backs. Still others get this backs broken for no fault of theirs. The hunchback in my story belongs to the third kind.

I was juggling a number of ideas inside my head, but one in particular kept screaming out to me. I let out a loud sigh. Yes, I had made my decision, knowing full well that it would probably cost me my life. I slowly reached under the pillow and removed the gun from its hiding place. I’d have to be careful, very very careful.

The sun was blazing away in all its fury. The wind was trying to compete with the sun, blowing its top swirling dust all over. The rocks however just held their ground completely oblivious of the efforts of the sun and the wind. And like the rocks, was the lone man waiting at the bus stand – calm and unperturbed.

In the village of Holudpukur, five miles from the closest haat at Burrabazaar and ten times that distance from the town of Purulia lived Shri Haragobind Tripathy. Tripathy remained the most unyielding custodian of the village; the first man to seek out if there was any trouble and the last man to return home after having dealt with the crisis at hand and putting it firmly to rest ..

Concluding episode of the Aparajita Series. Read how the mystery unfolds.