Thursday, 3 April 2014

Stories from my book: Short Stories for Young Readers - Book 1

CONTENTS
1.      Every Life has a great meaning

2.      Brave Hearts

3.      It is all a matter of one’s attitude and perception

4.      Journey to a Vortex

5.      KPL 20/20: Killiyoor Premier League: A Cricket Match

6.      Rajashekar and Rajapandian

7.      Shankar: The Young Detective

8.      Super Nova

9.      The Opposites



Every Life has a great meaning!
A new day of Packirisami and Santosh

Packirisami had no clairvoyant powers and he didn’t anticipate that today was going to be another new leaf in his life. The day hadn’t started well for him, not that any other day was novel and different. He had a quarrel with Velamma, his ever-complaining wife.

‘You incessant pest!’ shouted Packirisami and impulsively, slapped her. He was stout and bulky and his blow fell mightily. Velamma was hysterical and she screamed. She followed it by heaping her customary curses on him. He regretted immediately, but could never control his conditioned behavior. He felt sorry and turned to apologize to her, but she had already run out of the house.

The peepal tree around the corner of their street was her usual refuge, and her Bodhi Tree. The little Ganesha sitting over there, was her personal Guardian Angel. There, she would receive her enlightenment, after a few minutes of lamenting. She would blow her watery nose onto the palloo of her saree; she would call forth all divine forces to end her life that very moment; she would make a final appeal to the ever-unmoving Lord Ganesha to protect her; and she would meet with a sudden realization that after all, she was at fault, to have begun the quarrel, for nothing. Then resentment would set in, and she would enter her world of self-pity. After some moments of contemplation, she would receive her enlightenment that it was how life was, how it would be for her and how there was no point in complaining about it. She would remember her only daughter, who died three years ago when she was only two. She would then begin her prayers: “Oh, Ganesha! Help me with another child! That would solve all my problems with my husband.” With that prayer, she would return to normalcy; she would then wipe her nose and tears, step down from the elevated, dilapidated structure around the peepal tree and walk back home, taking quick strides, as though nothing ever had happened. She would quietly enter the kitchen and shout, “I am going to make tamarind rice and fish fry for the day. Would you like it?”

This used to be the pattern and it wasn’t different today too.

Packirisamy smiled wryly. He silently ate his usual breakfast of five idlis with plenty of milagai chutney, put on his khaki uniform, and got into the vintage mini-truck, that was parked outside his house, on the roadside. He had christened the truck Mayilu and he believed, it could fly once it started. He worked as a driver and a delivery man for a beedi manufacturer. As he slammed his front side-door closed, he tried to ignite the engine and it gave a cold response. ‘Ah, today I must give my final warning to my Sait: ‘either you change the vehicle or I quit.’ He reminded himself, for the nth time, of the dialogue he intended to deliver to the owner Sait, but never delivered. He had no other extraordinary skills; jobs were difficult to come, he earned modestly from driving for the Sait, and that kept his family running without starving.

Only, his health was a matter of concern. Ever since he lost his daughter, he started getting seizures, for no apparent cause. Initially, he concealed his problem for fear of losing his job, but soon he got exposed when, one day, he was gripped by seizure just in front of the Sait, while unloading some material in the warehouse. When he regained his consciousness, the first thing he did was to ask his Sait, “Are you going to dispense with me?”

Packirisami was a loyal, obedient and trustworthy driver for the Sait, working for him for almost a decade now. The Sait was more than accommodating; he sent him to a hospital run by a charitable trust and using his influence, got Packirisami a first class medical treatment. There was a marked improvement in his health and during the next six months, seizures never returned. He was advised to continue his medication without any break and not to work during the night. Every now and then, Packirisami was haunted by his fear, ‘What if I get my seizure while I drive?’ and his fear was compounded by his awareness that the Sait had no comprehensive insurance for the truck. Velamma had been pressurizing him to set up a small provision store with the financial help from some Self Help Group, but he continued to vacillate about a decision.

The truck engine coughed several times before it finally gave in, after his trials and prayers and it kicked off. Velamma waved her hands, from the entrance. The vehicle picked up speed and disappeared around the corner.

Today, he had to pick up, rolled beedies from a number of households from a far off village. A number of household ladies in that village took up the job of rolling beedies, to provide additional income for their families and once in a week, they were paid for their labor. He had to drive for a while on the main road, then enter a smaller village road, drive past a railroad crossing and keep going for about half an hour, before he could reach that particular village. As he entered the village road, the engine choked again and the vehicle jerked violently several times, before it came to a stop.

Packirisami had spent almost seven years with Mayilu and during those years, he had become quite friendly with it. The thought that Mayilu would be condemned sooner or later distressed him. Mayilu was his lonely companion and he shared his moments of joy and sorrow, and his excitement and depression, with it. Mayilu too, reciprocated, by never letting him down.

He got down from the truck, walked to its front, and started his dialogue with Mayilu, as if he was talking to his lover. Waving his hands and gesticulating, he showed off his exasperation. As a final act of friendliness, he put his hands on her bonnet and beseeched, ‘O, please come on, come alive, today only! I will see to it that you are rested from tomorrow onwards.’ With that, he got back into the truck, hit the engine and accelerator and it suddenly roared into motion. He thanked Mayilu, by gently patting the dashboard and drove ahead.

Packirisami was, in fact, actually very tired today; he had to work late during the previous night and he had to lose some sleep. He also didn’t remember to take his pills last night. Though occasionally it didn’t matter, the doctor had warned him strictly, not to skip his medicines. And, this morning the fight with his wife dampened his spirits and he felt sucked off energy. He was trying to remember why they fought that morning. It was nothing serious, as far as he was concerned. Velamma wanted to consult a specialist gynaecologist and he was procrastinating. Of course, today was not the first day she had reminded him; on occasions, she would flare up and become hysterical. Packirisami, low on niceties, was tactless many times. He feared that their child might inherit his nervous debility and he failed to explain this to Velamma properly. He didn’t mind adopting a child, but Velamma was opposed to such an idea.

He was approaching the railroad crossing and as he just entered, the engine gave another big jerk and stopped. It was an unmanned rural railroad crossing and there was no one around. He tried to start the engine several times, but Mayilu was unrelenting this time. He knew, it was not the time for any train to pass-by at this hour. So he remained cool and kept trying to ignite the engine. But, no way! Mayilu stood like a rock, across the railway line and wouldn’t move.

Packirisami got down, was angry with Mayilu, and kicked her tyres; and his pressure mounted when he could spot no one to help him. It was the end of summer, but the heat hadn’t receded. Humidity in the air worsened the situation. He was sweating profusely. He got into his seat again, prayed and pleaded with Mayilu, but she was very stubborn.

When he was almost exhausted, he saw at the far end, the silhouette of a figure slowly walking up on the rail track. Some hope returned to him, he got down, removed his shirt and waved. He couldn’t guess whether the figure really took notice or not, but he continued to wave even more vigorously.
*****
For Santosh, his life was anything other than what his name signified. He was Mr.Hopeless and Mr.Good-for-Nothing, in his year in the college. Every day, they pinned him with something or other and completely ran him down. This, even when he did all the errands and chores for everyone - but in the end, all that he got was volumes of abuse, criticism, chiding, ridicule and ragging. He didn’t know why they behaved the way they did.

He blamed his father, for leaving him an orphan at the mercy of his uncle. His mother was innocent and she had died when he was much younger. His father was in his robust adulthood, until he took to drinking liquor. He became an addict and his liver tore apart one day. He was hospitalized and didn’t return from there. His uncle took over as his guardian, keeping an eye on the properties that his father left behind. Santosh was fed like an animal and treated like a despicable creature in his uncle’s place. He was very timid and docile and never rebelled. What was his fault, he wondered!

Today, he was thoroughly disgusted and dejected. He was expelled from his classes for the rest of the day, for none of his fault. Someone else did some prank in the lab with a very costly apparatus, but the blame landed on him. He was hauled by his HOD and sent out. In utter frustration, he started walking the long distance back home, along the railway track. He didn’t care, even if a speeding train was to run over on the track, for, that would end his pain. Life didn’t matter to him anymore. He walked slowly and deliberately.

With the hot air rising, as he walked, all he could see was only some mirage along his path. But he knew, if he walked ahead for some time, he would meet a railroad crossing from where he could catch the main road, by a short walk. As he walked further, he saw a silhouette of a vehicle trying to cross the railway track. Walking still further up, he saw another hazy image of someone, standing over the track, waving some white cloth, high up in the air. The vehicle that he saw earlier had stopped across the railway track. Suddenly energy returned to him. He felt something was wrong. He started taking quick steps, but his crippled legs affected by polio, didn’t offer much speed.

Before long, he reached the crossing and quickly understood the gravity of the situation. The vehicle got stuck on the track and the driver was alone. Looking at him and his crippled legs, Packirisami’s spirits died. Santosh looked around and there was no one in sight. He offered to push the vehicle as much as he could. They both tried from behind the truck. The vehicle rumbled, but didn’t move much. They pushed harder and the truck edged slowly. They tried repeatedly and finally the truck moved further, but not completely off the track. The other side was sloping down. Santosh suggested that if Packirisami could get into his seat and try to jump-start the vehicle while Santosh pushed it from behind, they might probably succeed in moving the vehicle out of the track.

Santosh used all his might - his legs slipped repeatedly - but he didn’t give up. He groaned. With his foot firmly on the ground and his shoulders rubbing with the body of the truck, he pushed the truck with all his power, while Packirisami tried to bring life to the engine, by maneuvering with the clutch and the accelerator.

Oh, my God! Santosh heard the distinct whistle from a distance. A train ought to be approaching. But it couldn’t be at this hour. No train was due to be passing by at this time, not even one carrying goods. He was alarmed. He stopped pushing and went near the driver’s window. Packirisami turned around towards Santosh, but then it struck him. Packirisami’s face convoluted, his jaw hardened, eyes pointlessly stared, his whole body went rigid and then suddenly, he shook violently all over. Santosh looked panic stricken. In the next few moments, he understood that Packirisami was having his seizures. He looked for something, some metallic pieces to prevent his mouth from teetering and his teeth from cutting away his tongue. He found nothing that he could lay his hand quickly. He tried to push open the door by the side of the driver seat, but it appeared to be jammed.

Santosh was thoroughly paralyzed and confused. He ran back behind the vehicle and gave it a push, hoping the vehicle would give in miraculously. There was no use. He ran back to Packirisami and again, tried to open the door. But, now he heard it clearly. A train was definitely fast approaching. He could hear the whistle, blowing loudly from the engine.

He ran back to the track, tore off his shirts quickly, shouted and waved it around in the air desperately, to signal to the train to stop. But the train continued to approach him, unabated.

He rushed back to Packirisami. Keeping his one foot on the tyres, he used both his hands and pulled the side door with all the power he could muster. This time, the side door came off its hinges, throwing him back on the ground. The body of Packirisami slumped, his seizures had stopped and he was unconscious. Santosh got up, hurried to Packirisami, slapped his face mildly, in an attempt to bring him to consciousness, but in vain. He looked for some water, but it wasn’t available. He tried to pull him out, but Santosh was no match for Packirisami’s stout figure.

The engine was nearer now, Santosh was sure.

‘But why has it not stopped now? The engine driver must have surely noticed the truck, in the middle of the railway track.’ He cursed the engine driver.

‘Should I go back to the track and try to stop the train?’ he was confused. He started crying loudly. His whole body seemed to be edging toward numbness.

‘O God! Give me strength this time at least!’ he cried aloud again. He slid his two arms under the heavy weight of Packirisami and tried to pull him out of the vehicle once again. His body slightly moved. Santosh tried still harder, even while he felt a sudden weakness in his crippled leg.

‘Either now or never,’ he concluded.

He never knew where from he got that strength, but he managed to pull Packirisami out, who fell heavily on him. Santosh fell to the ground and Packirisami crashed on him.

As they fell, Santosh heard the heavy sound of the truck twirling around, splintering into several pieces and thrown all over. Santosh knew nothing thereafter, he lost his consciousness completely.
*****
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a hospital, completely wrapped around in plasters. His professor and a couple of other students were anxiously waiting for him to open his eyes. He was in critical care and the doctors thought he had almost gone. His body was crushed all over and several bones had broken apart requiring multiple surgeries. His jaw got twisted, his lips split, nasal bones powdered, at least three or four teeth smashed deep into mouth cavity and his body damaged in endless other places. What hit the truck was not any full train, but only an engine passing by and he survived. The engine driver, who was taking it to the nearby station for an emergency, was a bit careless. Though he applied the brakes to the engine, but alas, the engine came to a halt only after hitting the truck, whose rear side was still projecting across the railway track. The truck whirled around its axis several times before it was torn apart. It was a miracle that Santosh and Packirisami, who were lying just a few inches away from the truck tyres, escaped alive. They were thrown over a few feet, by the force of the collision. Packirisami got severe head injuries requiring multiple sutures, otherwise, he was safe.

“You proved that your life too, had a great meaning and purpose. We are extremely sorry for the treatment you got in the college. We learnt what actually happened, from the surgeon who had heard you muttering when you were being operated on. We must be grateful to the engine driver, despite his fault. He had a cell phone and he organized the immediate relief for you both. Velamma is waiting outside, to see you. She already believes you are her Ganesha, who saved her Packirisami.”

Santosh felt proud for the first time in his life. He, too, had an accomplishment to speak about and hopefully, people might look at him differently, at least for now.

Velamma, his newly adopted mother, walked into the room with folded hands, tears rolling down her cheeks heavily.
*****
………………………………………………………….
Saree – a typical Indian dress for ladies
Palloo – the edge portion of a saree
Idlis – a typical South Indian food preparation
Milagai - chilli
Beedi – an Indian equivalent of a cigarette; rolled tobacco leaves
Mayilu – a Tamil language word to denote a peacock bird



Did you find the story interesting? Do you want to buy my book from Amazon? If so, please look at:

http://www.amazon.com/Short-Stories-Young-Readers-Book-ebook/dp/B009OU56LK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1396618596&sr=8-1&keywords=short+stories+for+young+readers

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