This is my first foray into the blog world.
I thought of starting this with publishing a story of mine.
This was an award winning story published in the national daily of Afghanistan, The Osama Times.
There was a lot of acclaim for this story, but the author(humble, modest me) failed to make money.
He did not want to publish it and force people to buy these books. This would not be mush of a hurdle once people got to see his latest kalashnikov(AK 47 for the uninitiaited). The story lost out mainly due to one Mr.Bush raining grenades on Afghanistan. That is a blog for another time.
Here is the story anyway.
He lay on the pavement just as he had done for as long as he could remember. The streets had been his home for so long and particularly this piece of pavement. He was very possessive about it as if it were home. Sadly, in a way it was. He rummaged into his bag and took out the piece of bread he had scavenged from the dustbin by the hotel. He liked this place more now thinking of its proximity to the hotel. However wretched his life was, he would not go hungry. The cold was another matter though. He pulled the sheet up in a bid to cover as much of his body as he could. The torn, soiled sheet barely covered him, much less protect him from the cold. However it was in his mind that this protected him and that was enough for him. Eating his piece of bread- his first meal of the day- he saw the security guard outside the opposite building . The guard was well protected against the cold. What he would give to get his hands on a Jacket like that. He slowly drifted off to sleep dreaming of a day when he would have a Jacket like the guard he saw. The noise on the streets never seemed to bother him. All these years on the street had made him immune to the noise.
The guard opened the door and moved inside. The cold was too much for him even though he was protected against it. He had heard on the news that this was the coldest weather the city had seen in 10 years. He was thankful for the heater inside. He could warm himself there. As he warmed his brow furrowed with worry. He wondered how he was going to lay his hands on the money he so badly needed. He would need at least 50,000 rupees to get his daughter married. He blamed himself for not being able to provide her a proper education. He wanted to rectify that by giving her a good marriage. He had chosen his friends son, a driver in a transport company nearby. He knew his future son-in-law was a good man. He did not want to lose face with him. His wife too was putting in that extra effort. She was now working in three houses. His eyes glowed thinking about her. He remembered how magical their initial years had been. They had fallen in love when they saw each other at the village fair. They knew that they were from different religions and could never marry if they lived here. So, she had trusted him completely and they had run away to this big bad city. They had stormed all their difficulties knowing they were there for each other. He found all these thoughts comforting especially now that he had only the other painful thoughts of money for company. As he was immersed in these thoughts out of the corner of his eye, he saw the smart looking young man he saw everyday, who worked at the office on the 2nd floor. He knew that the young man had gotten a new car just a year into this job. How he wished he could lay his hands on such money. He looked up as he came closer so that he could say hello. His hello was not returned though. The young fellow was looking lost in another world. As the engineer disappeared up the stairs all the guard could think of was the ordeal life was putting him through. He knew the young fellow would never have to worry about money in his whole life.
The engineer walked up the stairs as slowly as he could, delaying entering his office as much as he could. He did not want to be here this cold evening, but work was work. He entered the office hardly noticing the guard. He thought the fellow greeted him, but he was in no mood to talk to anybody now. All he could think of were choice expletives but to nobody in particular. He had made him come today, a weekend to finish the project they were working on. He knew Sheila did not like him working long hours. She would never understand. She was always thinking of the now and he was always planning for the future. Like the car he had bought. It was all her idea. He had wanted to wait a while longer. But she was more worried about her image with her friends. It seemed like she was spending all that he earned. There was a lot of it to spend though, he thought, pleased at himself. He set his bag on his desk and went to get some coffee to pep up before starting for the long night. He could not help thinking about his life. College had been so much of fun. He could never forget how he and Sheila had bunked classes, run off to movies, gone on picnics, stole glances in class.. all those magical moments seemed so long ago. All those hours they spent at the cafe crooning sweet nothings, suddenly realizing nobody else was around and returning home late with lame excuses. It had just been a joy ride. He could not believe his luck when they finished college and their parents were so eager to marry them off. His high paying job also had made these things possible. That had been the beginning of the downslide. Sheila had chosen not to work. She wanted to take things in life a little slow. She had always waited for him when he returned home, tired after all those hours he put in. Sometimes he would be away for almost 2 days when he had to meet deadlines. He knew it was taking it's toll on his life now. Nowadays she seemed to be a little distracted and not so eager to talk as before. He knew it was his fault and hoped she was not seeing somebody else. Somebody tapping him woke him up from his reverie. He looked up and saw his boss giving him that wasting-your-time-my-boy look. He jumped back to the present and after a discussion with the boss went back to his desk. He wanted to finish work early and get home to Sheila. He so much wanted that magic in their lives to return.
The boss slowly walked back to his cabin, loathing looking back at that monitor. He had been so bogged down by this present project. He knew he was not exactly the favorite among his juniors. He could not help that anyway. He had to be strict or else his neck was on the line. Now this project was way beyond schedule and he needed to wrap it up tonight. He thought of his encounter near the coffee machine. He envied that junior for youth was not on his side anymore. The bulge above his belt was getting more pronounced everyday and the hairline was receding at an equally fast pace. All he could think now was for to get some sleep. He knew that his body would soon protest at being abused the way he was doing it. He had not been getting much sleep lately, what with the meetings with the clients and managing his boys and looking after the home front , now that his wife was no more. He got back to his cabin and pulled open the curtains. It was dark outside and he noticed that the wind had picked up speed. He could feel the cold getting more biting. Suddenly he saw the tramp sleeping on the pavement opposite. At first he thought he was dead but then saw the smile on his face ad the slight heaving of his chest. He could see that the tramp was asleep. How he wished he could also sleep so peacefully. All the cold and the noise around the tramp did not seem to be bothering him one little bit. The cold suddenly hit him hard and he closed the window reminded of the work that lay ahead. He got back to his chair with the picture of the tramp's peaceful, smiling face imprinted in his mind.
P.S: One particular Mr.Jeffrey (don't remember his last name) has seen this story and his incorporated in one of his publications. So do not be surprised if you think this story is familiar.
