THE RUNAWAYS: CHAPTER 1

There was only one person in the village cart who heard the sound that was rolling in across the plain.Reverberating through the hard tranquil rocks of the galgibaga beach, the sound broke the comatose slumber of the sea creatures around.His name was Koi, a velip by caste and not by nature. A fourteen year old, not much of an authority to be relied upon. The cart had limited space with two people packed against each other with their bottoms kissing one another like newly married couple in their honeymoon.And bearing the two middle aged men in their ironed shirts and rebok shoes, our dear little koi had sweat beads decorated beautifully all over his forehead.He was a rich kid, living in his thatched broken place with the name of a cottage, where he got the facility of running water from his leaking roof.It was chance alone that made him stay alive for fourteen years. He lost his father in the 2004 Tsunami.But that wasn't the end of the happy tale. The sweet flavor of an unknown disease spread through the air of the village of Gaodongri.He lost his mother when he was three. His memory of his mother was very inexplicit with only the pangs of his mother addressing lullabies through the halo of mosquitoes above her head, making a deep mark on his reminiscence.You can't blame him for growing up with the spirit of a misanthropist deep in his bones, for abandoning the thin veneer of social construct and living his life on his own terms.His armful of tattoos, his bouffant dreadlocks and his premature beard, all somehow couldn't sum up the soft nature that he had.He was a velip.The people of this community are considered as aborigines of Goa who inhabit the eastern margin along the
foothills of the Sahyadris that constitute the forested and major mining zones.Nevertheless, he had no interest to till the land like his father did and bought an old cart from the local trader for four hundred rupees that he got from his work as a guide for tourists who come to visit the galgibaga beach.

One night, Koi woke suddenly to the sound of a rhythmic creaking around his place, along with urgent drawings of breath. He hurried out in the open and saw a Jeep standing out of his home. He could get the astringent
smell crawling up his nose like a lion entering it's den. It was an odor mixed with sweat and the fresh herbs that one sows under the crescent moon.Koi thought it must be the farmers working in the paddy field. But why in the middle of the night? Why outside his house?The mystery remains.

The sound of the Christmas bells

The defeated widower paced
down the road decorated with
christmas lights, it's yet another
day when he failed to get a job.
Down at his old dilapidated
house at a quaint corner of the
city, his sons were in a row.
"Who says Santa won't bring gifts
this year? I'm his favourite!!"
The elder one with his stern and
obstinate face growled,
"grow up!
There is no Santa."
" The man
calmly bent down before his son,
holding back his tears,
"your
brother is right dear, there is no
Santa"
, and brisked across his
room, which was decorated with
resplendent christmas trees and
an array of gifts. The
dumbfounded man found a note
beside it,
"There are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy".

Somehow the soul of the man electrified into something ethereal, something that cannot be described. He knew not what after this. He knew only a feeling, a feeling which blessed him away from worldly atrocities that he had functioned over the years. The night was cold with snow falls falling like old dust from the edges of the age old sky. The lulled silence of the cosmos bespoke of it's fully cultivated flavor. Suddenly, the clunking sound of metal bells captured his attention. Bells that  danced around wildly on his nostalgic arena. The image of his wife wearing a santa Claus hat, the one she wore on her last Christmas, floated infront of him. The image that made him shiver the rest of the night.

THE RUNAWAYS

                 
The island of Agatha, the point on the face of the Earth which couldn’t be located
In a map. Where sailors have crossed paths, yet have left unseen. It’s not the Majesty
Of the island that Sparks out, but it’s isolation and it’s way of preservation of it’s secrets.
The wheel of fate rotates, speedily it does and rests upon a chosen few, destined to meet
Agatha, the lady luck of it’s dwellers. Carefully embedded in Pine trees and the mild noise of
the Cicadas which though temperate, do stir the tender sleep of the koalas. As the evening
Showers it’s crimson rays on the unknown sea, the foamy water rekindles the lazy turtles aim
to hatch the eggs.
Koi, a mixture of velour and sobriety, is a scarcely found species of the human race
The tattoos rendered injudiciously on his arms, his long dreadlock and meticulously nurtured
and cultivated beard makes you forget the fact that he’s a 14 year old child. Unfitted in this
“Unfarmed” world, he embarks on a journey for an unfarmed land, what follows next is yet to
be unveiled.

Introduction to my short stories

Hello Friends, welcome to short stories by a creative writer. Stories are gateway to our emotions. What can't a story tell us? Little do we realise how much we are addicted to stories. Even the slightest gossip that you hear about the second man is a story in itself. So friends, if you like sitting on your balcony chair munching on some snacks and craving to have a story book in your hand to entertain your leisure, then crave no more, you've got something better. A series of short stories await for you to be engulfed! Stories filled with mystery, magic, thrill and compassion. Stories that'll take you to another world. And please do excuse my little follies in my story telling, if there are any. 

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