"AERO"

“Aero” 

Robin jumped out of his bed and ran across the hallway, went out of his house in his pyjamas. He was sobbing and didn’t want to believe his mother’s words but they were true. He cried. He cried for the first time in his life.

                                                *** 

It was all like a dream. The screaming sheep and the giant owls, everything was like a dream and then he woke up. Amazed to see his mother sitting on the edge of his bed. She was looking unhappy. He knew she is going to tell him a bad news.

“Aero is dead.” She said with a very sad tone. “Your Dog is dead.”

                                                 ***

 It was 2 A.M and he was still awake. It was not due to exams but another very serious issue. Robin was feeling guilty for his mistake. He fought with his best friend, Aero. It was not something very serious, except that his friend almost ruined his impression over Tanya, his girlfriend. She loved Robin but hated Aero. Robin knew Tanya was tensed as her exams were approaching and also she was the dumbest girl of the class but exceptionally beautiful.

“Robin, are you out of your mind? Why the hell did you bring your ugly dog in my house?”

“Ye’ know he wanted to see a real bitch.”

Then they fought and finally broke up. Robin angrily also fought with Aero.

Robin couldn’t sleep, he was feeling sorry for Aero. He never wanted to hurt him. All he wished at that moment was to hug him and to tell him that he is really sorry and that he loved him. 

Slowly he closed his eyes and got dissolved in his dreams. The sheep screamed.

                                                  ***

He slammed the door and ran upstairs. His mother followed him to his room and angrily asked.

“I saw what you did with Aero. Are you mad or something? What happened?”

“Aero is an idiot. I hate him.” Robin said and decided to stay quiet. He was ashamed. He was feeling the burden of guilt.

                                                 *** 

He grabbed Aero’s neck and shouted at him. “You better ask for forgiveness, Doggy.”

Aero tried to run but Robin’s grip was tight. Robin didn’t want to hurt him but he did. He kicked Aero. Aero innocently cried and looked at Robin, his only human friend, with fear.

“You are not my friend.” Robin said and rushed in his house. His mother saw everything.

                                                 ***

Robin cried. Robin cried for the first time in his life. Aero was not just a dog. He was a true friend. A friend who only expected love and affection. People say Aero died of some infectious disease but Robin knew he hurt his dog more than the disease itself. He wanted to apologize but it was too late. Aero was not in the old dog-hut anymore, now he was only in a few vintage photographs or perhaps in some really really sweet memories which Robin couldn’t afford to forget. Not till his death. 

  

Written By

Ashutosh  Mishra

The Hand with Bangles

The Hand with Bangles

A Short Story

Everyone in the Village heard the cry of Bhola, a poor fellow, and gathered in the main market of Kanakpur to see the godly miracle which must have happened the previous night.

In the place of grand statue of Lord Krishna, a golden chair has appeared with some text written below. Shashtri ji, the school headmaster, stepped forward and read those words aloud, “The Chair for the one who wishes to rule.”

It was a direct message from god. The small kids left their schools and dissolved in the crowd to see the miracle with their naked eyes.

Thakur, the head of Panchayat, standing on his doorsill adjusted his royal Pagri and stepped forward to address the gathering.

“It’s a message from the Gods. Gods we pray. It’s a very auspicious day for all of us. Gods desire to gift this opportunity of ruling this village and making any decision or any Judgement by the person who wishes to sit on this pious Chair. Anybody can raise the hand. Everyone is equal in the eyes of Gods.”

No one dared to raise the hand but suddenly a hand was slowly raised in the air . The boys climbed on the roofs to see the face of that person.

It was unexpected and everybody in the village was shocked.  It was not a normal hand; it was a hand with Bangles whose clinking noise was challenging the prides of the fool men of Kanakpur. They closed their fists and shouted at her.

Mani, a 35 year old widow whose husband recently died in a war, dared to raise her hand even though she was frightened.

Thakur’s eyes turned red and he cried with anger, “Bloody Woman! How dare you? Aren’t you ashamed?”

He barked loudly.

“The chair doesn’t say only flat chested can raise their hands.”

It was the first time in decades when a woman spoke with these kind of rebellious words.

Thakur was wicked. He played his game.

“God has decided the ruler of this village. We are just humans and we cannot deny his power. If she is the choice than I have no objection. Mani will sit on the chair tonight.”

Thakur rushed in his house and his members ran behind him to give their wisest ideas.

The night came and the whole village was decorated with flowers and lights. On the every corner of village there were people sitting and gossiping about the magical chair.

Mani caressed her bangles and prayed to the gods.

When the clock struck 12, Thakur welcomed Mani and claimed her to be the new queen of the village in front of every villager. She elegantly sat on the golden chair and waved her hands. Everybody cheered with happiness.

After the grand feast, everybody returned to their home but Mani was silently sitting on the chair staring blankly at her bangles.

Next morning, villagers again heard the cry of Bhola and everybody jumped out of their houses to see what happened. They saw something which shocked their hearts and filled their eyes with tears. Every women in the village mourned and every kid yelled with fear. Bhola saw the cruel smile on the face of Thakur.

Instead of Mani, villagers saw a badly burnt corpse on the golden chair with blood spilled everywhere. Even her shining bangles were not there. Night thieves must have stolen them too.

Written By:

Ashutosh Mishra

Ambitions......

Ambitions

I made a castle of pillows,

Sat on the throne, like a King.

But Sahib slapped me and yelled,

For the flower vases I didn’t clean.

The son comes in the big yellow bus,

With a bag full of colourful books.

I don’t want to clean the floors or windows,

But to walk like them in most expensive suits.

Maybe one day I will go to a school,

To become a lawyer or a pilot.

My mother would smile from the heaven

Or in the photo, which i keep in my pocket.

I still remember my beautiful dream,

A big castle of pillows, I am the King.

Smile on my face and eyes in search

of the boy who once cleaned some dirty vases.

~ Ashutosh Mishra

SHE

“SHE”

She hardly smiles in the morning,

She hardly wipes her frozen tears,

She doesn't wear any bangles now,

She is not scared of her fears……!!!

She is like a painting, with no words to say.

She is the one who is raped and left alone,

She is the one who is a slave and a poor soul,

She is that small cry, silently buried in the womb.

She is a mother and a daughter and a sister

She is a young girl, with fake lovers around..!!

She is a sweet girl, with demons at her own house..!!

She is that flower, everyone wants to smell but no one wants to sow!!

She is just a joke and all are laughing.

She is just a tear that no one wants to see,

She is a Beauty that all want to ruin,

She is a God-Gift which no one wants to embrace.

Written By :

Ashutosh Mishra

Being Scared

Being Scared

I always feel scared while crossing a busy road. I don’t know what’s troubling me. As far as I know I am not a person who is afraid of the death, I am afraid of the LIFE. These modern cars when they run naked in front of my eyes, they snatch all the peace from my soul and I feel incomplete. In the middle of the road, where half of the world is in hurry and me in the middle of a worry that what is going to happen in the next second. 

Modern living is tough. It’s complicated. It was supposed to be simple but we human beings are turning into confused shitheads now, confused about everything. I am turning into a machine, this fear is killing me and my soul slowly. I still find some time to look up and to stare at the limitless sky and I feel glad, it hasn’t changed. The world around me has changed. Friends changed and the definitions changed. Love changed and the feelings changed. Fear became stronger and confidence became volatile.

I am a modern revolutionary. No, I am not. There will be no revolution. No WAR. Nobody is going to fight the battles for enlightenment and wisdom.

So many things are disappearing from our life. The smell of the flowers, evening walks with friends, destructing ant hills and glancing the red sky have no space in the cruel modern world. The songs of the childhood and the passion of the youth are swallowed by cell phones. Televisions has become more important than parents. Laptops are modern day life partners.

I hear this truth every day. I believe most of it but from the depth of my heart, I feel cheated. Cheated by the ambitions of modern human to become less human and more of a machine which works and works and works but never thinks or feels.

~ Ashutosh Mishra