story

O’ Lord of Billion Souls

/ Vishu Mishra / Leave a comment

 ~Sachin Tendulkar poetry is my self invented poetry genre. It aims to bring out the nostalgia of sachin’s era. All poems in this genre are made & themed to honor Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

 

 

O’ lord of billion souls,
make silence solve & ruffle up.
I’m hereby read, in most common scrolls.
beseeching your doors, them mighty up.

O’ lord! of twenty-two yards,
I sing with eloquence, a hopeless bard
make heavens hold, where common behold.
allow a breathe,my story be told.

O’ lord! of wooden willow,
break bread to doubts & inspire fellow.
them rhyming chorus,in names of you.
them orchestrate, those prayers for you.

 

sachin ramesh tendulkar

sachin ramesh tendulkar

O’ lord! of cricketing dawn,
arose a sun & evils be pawned.
I sit to surmise,them portraits you drew.
with a silent soul, when drives you brew.

O’ lord! a most humble man,
a god or mortal, but immortal span.
am a speckle, calling shine of you.
in a billion clustering dime of you.

O’ lord! a man of eternal-era,
make us pronounce, to your wisdom sera.
let us enlighten, be lesser fools.
unravel to world,your golden rules.

 

 

-Poem dedicated and with best wishes for Sachin’s autobiography ‘playing it my way’

 

sachin tendulkar autobiography : playing it my way

sachin tendulkar autobiography : playing it my way

me with sachin sir

me with sachin sir

 

Please share this  post with all sachin fans. Hopefully it will reach the doors & eyes of batting god one day! 🙂

amen & godspeed! 🙂

O' Lord of Billion Souls

O’ Lord of Billion Souls

– Vishu Mishra
first draft- 06-11-2014 (~ 5-6 pm)

A Warm Welcome

/ Vishu Mishra / Leave a comment
A Warm Welcome - humor story

The Story-teller : ” Humor me..”

 

‘aah..hope dad ain’t mad over my communication past year’, sighed Ankit.

Holding this thought for a second, he then knocked on that big-black familiar door of his home. It read ‘flat no. 28 – Sharma’s Residence’.

He hadn’t seen home for a while, reading the name plate thrilled him. He planned this trip out of the blue and tried best to keep this a surprise visit. He was worried over his fiance’s reaction to his secret plan and then jumped over pondering about his parent’s joy on his visit. Before he could smile and knock, door’s latch made a cranky sound and it opened to the inside.

There Stood a big black man attired in a grey suit, holding the door knob. Sneaking a view through the half opened door unveiled a crowdy gathering and loud party music.

Stumped to the event, he took off his earphones and spoke ,

“Is there some party going on??” asked Ankit to the bouncer (the door man).

“yes sir! it’s a ‘home welcoming party to Mr.Sharma’s only Son”, said the bouncer.

“Huh! But I din’t say anything about my arrival ,then How come?”,surprised Ankit tried to step inside the hall.

The bouncer stopped him, “sir! may I see your invitation”,he requested.

“WHAT!! you’re gonna ask me invitation to my own house?,I am Ankit! Ankit Sharma! The SON!!”.he said loudly, ridiculing the stupidity of his question.

“and I am sure sir! you have your invitation!”, replied bouncer, much calmly.

After few verbal exchanges, Ankit showed his ID but it din’t impress the gate man.

A long fussy debate got over with a bribe of 1000 Rs and ankit finally walked inside the hall.

He murmured  ,“ Damn man! money to enter your own home, what stupid crooked security, am gonna make him apologize by night”

he placed his bag beside the door, as asked by the bouncer. Then he took one of the slippers from shoe rack and placed his travelling shoes in place. He started moving around, scanning this loud and crowdy room. He sees his father at farther end of hall. He waves to his father who waved back with a smile.

Sanguinely, he pushed through the drunk and dancing crowd, got some red wine spilled on his white shirt.

Ignoring the spill, “Hey Dad! Surprise!! I am home! ”,he rejoiced.

However, his facial efforts kept accentuating and he started looking un-natural and uncomfortable to the passive reaction of his father.

“Hey buddy! Any confusions? Must be Ankit’s friend right? you should meet my son Ankit! He’s standing next  to the Dj control! change your shirt dear! It stinks with wine spill!”,said Mr. Sharma, who then waved at another guy and left.

Ankit got stupefied to this bizarre response and stood blank for a moment. Something hit him in the head, as if either he travelled in time machine or suffered a brain wreck. Not thinking further, he looked around for the DJ control, to find this other Ankit.

He got desperate and pushed hard through the crowd. However, his physique didn’t agree to his anger, got tripped over and broke his glasses.

“Damn! These people must be really happy for my return! They are celebrating and wrecking  all over me”, he murmured.

he started crawling on the floor and finally reached the DJ control with mighty efforts. A man helped him to get up,

“hi! I am Ankit! I just came back from states, nice welcoming party, isn’t it?!.

And you’re..?” ,said the DJ.

“ ummm.. i.. am.. Ank..Ankit too, never mind”,said Ankit, now feeling insulated to this stupid scenario.

“oh! You must have been a friend of dad, never seen you before, a distant relative, are you??”,he said, lowering the sound of speaker.

“what the hell man! This is my home! Who are you and what is goin on..”,Ankit erupted with anger.

The man at DJ asked him more questions-he  questioned his identity, his job, his relations in india and added royally to his frustration. Further, adding worsely to Ankit’s annoyance- the DJ man would lower the volume while asking questions and increase it while Ankit would try answering any of them.

he (dj man) laughed at him,again and again and again..

“Hey man! I can’t make any sense of you! I guess the music is too loud! Why don’t u change that stinky shirt and wear a t-shirt from the many lying at sofa!”,said the DJ with a naughty grin.

“Strange deejay guy ,must be stoned on weed or something,everyone is effing stoned, am gonna scold everyone after the party”, said  patience god Ankit.

He then readily moved towards the entrance door, only to find his bag missing.

“Hey man! Where’s my bag,it had lot of clothing and gifts inside”, asked Ankit to the bouncer.

The bouncer din’t care to engage in any dialogues with him. Ankit too wasn’t planning to piss off the big guy. He shook his head in irritation and finally picked up one of the t-shirts from the sofa and changed.

He then moved around to search for his mother. Meanwhile, a man in crowd shouted to catch his attention, “Hey! Boy! Get me another drink and some snacks, will you”.

Trying to gratify himself as the party host , Ankit took the man’s glass and moved to the kitchen, “Rude guests! Where did the self service go man! Indians need pampering, always!!”

“hey mom! Thank god you’re here”, he looked left to his shoulder and smiled.

The old lady smiled, she nodded and intimated him that she can’t hear him.

He got agitated and shouted again,

“hey mom! Thank god I found you. surprise! I am home!!”,again putting lot of efforts in facial expressions.

The lady took a pencil and wrote on paper, ‘Nice to meet you son.I can’t hear,I am temporarily deaf!’.

”oh!! what happened Mom”,asked worried Ankit.

She wrote again-‘You must be one of my husband’s  associates, he  has pulled off a great deal in first quarter  and  he is celebrating with this nice party, isn’t that great!’,she smiled.

He lost the conversation at that very note and got completely out of his mind, “WHAT the hell is going here!”,he yelled.

He moved out of kitchen, crawled around the wall’s corners, trying to reach the DJ’s desk. He got stumbled at one of the mirrors, only to find out that he was wearing a t-shirt that read-‘gladly at your service! ‘King’s kitchen’.

“what the hell man! i ain’t a bloody waiter here!”,he shrugged furiously.

Having had enough of party, he stormed to the DJ floor, took one big speaker and broke it pieces.

The whole crowd looked shock and awe. They stared at him for a moment, then each one in the room took out their giant headphones and disc players, plugged in and started dancing like crazy. They were literally mocking ankit and celebrating over his frustration.

He looked around with a whacko face, his mouth was wide-open. He madly looked at each one of them and shouted- “mad house!! MAD HOUSE ,MADD HOUSEE ,I AM LEAVING”

Instantly, a man pushed him to the centre, where his father stood with his cousin brother and fiancé,

“the DJ is my brother, it was my idea to give you a sweet dose of reminiscence”, winked his fiancé.

“Never lie to your fiancé sweety and never leave your mail box open, I saw your bookings a week back”, tongue in cheek, she smiled.

“yes, and you must keep in touch regularly, or we will throw you more surprises” , laughed all-  his father ,mother and his cousins.

“Okay! Okay!  I am sorry, I know I know, but please don’t give me such train wrecks”, sheepishly smiled an apologetic Ankit.

Everyone burst into laughter and joined in to cut the cake which read-

‘Surprise!!! ,If you want to evade one-KEEP IN TOUCH!! 😉

yours loving,

family & friends”.

Ankit understood everything and said – “ohhh!!! And it makes sense too, wow! hahah”

and the whole place burst into another laughter.

“Yes! I promise, I will take out more time out of my busy schedule”,said a sincere Ankit with smile.

“ if you din’t notice,you couldn’t have made it more classy! you  chose your surprise visit on 1st of april. I am sure it’s by default of-course,

aah..you’re so forgetful and clueless sometimes sweety”, smiled and winked his fiance.

She then blew the cake candles with him and then the actual welcoming party started. This party was pretty warm.

 

 

A Warm Welcome - Humor

A Warm Welcome – Humor Story

A Dog Day Journey

/ Vishu Mishra / Leave a comment
A dog day journey - humor story

”  humor me..”

Vincent opened car’s door & seated himself in back seat, in right middle. He felt a strong vibe of déjà-vu in this closed space. It smelled really funny inside that car, something very organic and ripe. It wasn’t probably the best idea to travel with his girlfriends’ family.

The front two seats were owned by her parents and last three were occupied by– baba a crying baby, Nancy his girlfriend & rob the elder brother. Rob or rather angry rob, was looking forward to his confrontation with this new traveller. He recently found out about their love affair. Vincent squeezed himself in middle, alongside the teeth grinding-eyeballing brother and obnoxious crying baby, who kept dropping saliva on Vincent’s pants.

Fifteen minutes passed, Vincent broke his silence and enquired the girls’ father, as to why the car was bumping so much. Father explained that the car needed a long due servicing which can only be done after this trip. Vincent being tallest kept hitting the car’s roof like a percussion instrument.

Few Minutes later, they heard a crying voice from car’s trunk. A quarrel of commentary erupted –  “I told u not to..”, “it wasn’t best idea..”, “see I knew it ..”, broke loud inside the car with baby crying again in response. Father stopped the car and took out the dog- a big eyed German shepherd from back trunk and they took it inside the car.

Now dog being inside, Vincent was trying to close his feet to its growls and threats. Meanwhile hitting his head to car’s roof, he thought-

“Damn this dog! No wonder the car smelled funny earlier!”

He overheard a conversation about how dog’s weight was balancing the bad shockers of car and how the ride will now get rougher. Vincent was flabbergasted to the eccentric ideas of family, bumping his head harder and harder to roof, his thoughts got vigorous,

“Damn you Scooby doo! This Flintstone car sucks man!”, he frowned and stared at the dog. The Dog stared back like he read his mind. It expressed his disgust for Vincent by dropping more saliva on his feet.

Vincent whistled and snagged the dog’s tail, looked in another direction unknowingly. The dog got irritated and barked at the baby! .The baby started crying and dog’s mouth got shut, overwhelmed to baba’s high octave sound.  Vincent enjoyed his notoriety with a silent-wicked laughter. The elder brother caught his crap, stared at him with angry eyes & grinding teeth.

The parents asked rob to exchange position with Vincent and keep the dog calm. Vincent was totally flustered by this unsettling nonsense but was still happy to exchange positions. He opened the right window to gasp for fresh air. He looked at Nancy; she was asleep – calm & uncaring to this minor chaos.

The road started turning right and as if, “the stone age monsters were throwing bad luck to this Flintstones car”, thought Vincent.

The elder brother’s eyes lit with mischief and he started pushing Vincent to the door with every centrifuging turn. After a torture of fifteen minutes, family stopped for lunch.

Half hour later they started back en-route. Vincent resumed his war by grabbing the middle seat and started pushing elder brother to the right. However, both looked straight making no eye contact or uttering any words of frustration.

“It’s a mind game, I will win it!” thought Vincent and grinned.

With Vincent’s head still bumping, the scores were finally tied. Complacent Vincent exchanged positions with sleeping Nancy. Vincent dropped the glass and looked out the left window to change his war mood to happy mood.

Smelly dog was now seated in front seat, his snout stuck out of front window gasping for fresh air. He closed the window and baba started crying, he opened it and the dog’s saliva rained on his face. He was stuck oscillating in this unfortunate loop.

Off with frustration and head bumps, he beseeched around for a cushion. His desperate scooping got lucky and he got hold of something that apparently looked to suffice. He got hold of a cotton stuffed thing from back seat and put on his head to prevent from bumping, it dripped!!

“damn-shit it’s the baby’s wet huggies, filled with pee”, Vincent was disgusted. The elder brother chuckled and baby started laughing.

“I will kill you Scooby-doo! Said Vincent.

Now concentrating! With his tongue stuck out to left, aiming sharp nail pins on car’s front tire. Ten tries and finally it hit! With ‘whushhh’ sound it blasted and car stopped. Vincent took a knife and cut chords on suitcases that were placed atop, bound to carrier. He decided to sit above; on car’s roof .It was appreciated by majority of the family – the chuckling brother, the smelly dog and laughing baby. However, Nancy stood indisposed and abstained from her opinion, deep in slumber she lay snoring the entire time. He finally rest atop, gasped for peace and looked above in the Clear sky-

“Damn! It’s enough for the day, some other time”, he thought.

*end*

thanks for reading.

regards.

By : Vishu Mishra

Antique Shop Afternoon

/ Vishu Mishra / Leave a comment

A character story-

By: vishu mishra

Antique Shop Afternoon

Antique Shop Afternoon

That afternoon..

Victor stormed into the antique shop and shouted at the lady, “hold on mam! I would like to make a bargain for this seemingly authentic artifact!”. The lady who held with both hands – a rectangular shaped, thin and delicate ceramic slab with exquisite decorations, had her smile fading away at this. Her face jubilant a moment ago, now expressed a sudden tension at the sight of this strange man. Immediately, victor changed his line of inquiry towards the salesman of the antique shop,

“bastard! Your shop has been under surveillance for past three months, it’s all over”, he said. The lady got agitated at this unwelcoming drama and responded, “excuse me! who the hell are you and why are you tormenting this shopkeeper, disturbing my purchase? ”, she asked in a raised voice. Victor, who looked furiously towards the nervous salesman, turned his eyes towards the lady , “mam! I am afraid, you are being fooled by this shop-owner. Our team has been tracking down his activities and I wanted to catch him red handed..”, he said in an assertive tone.

“I am being fooled for what and who are you..better fill the story in or I am calling police now”, she snapped. Victor took the slab and took out his ID from his wallet, “mam! I am the regulatory officer of the anti-duplicacy authority, this slab which is priced at 25,000 Bucks and claims to be Mughal in origin, is actually a forgery and not worth more than 1000 bucks”, he replied in a calm voice, handing over his ID to the lady.

While the lady began to examine his ID, victor took out a pencil torch and flashed it on the bar-code on the artifact which reflected blue, “you see mam,here’s the proof- all artifacts sanctioned by archeological authority for sale, shine golden in barcodes..isn’t it you scoundrel!”,he said ,menacingly to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper who was rattled by the events & criminal accusations, looked completely caught in guilty and then agreed to every word of victor’s enquiry, like an obedient dog.

Victor then made a call from his phone, “yes! Please send in a van and five officers ,along with the arrest warrant”, he said, while looking out of the shop’s window. He looked at the lady for a brief moment and continued, “am sorry for your troubles Mam, but the shop will have to be shut down and all the old artifacts will be ceased & taken in our custody. Now if you excuse me, I have to wave to my partner whose awaiting my signal..to know if all is good”, he said. He opened the shop’s glass door, which read in black paint “ no returns, no credits” and waved at a man standing across road, slouching on a metallic black Mercedes. At the sight of victor, the man stood straight in attention gave him a thumb’s up with a smile. The lady and the shopkeeper observed victor’s moves and followed him around in complete silence as he stepped out and came back inside the shop. Victor gazed at the lady’s blue furred purse and golden Bentley car keys and commented, “mam , please don’t  mind my saying so but your high heels, expensive attire gives away the fact that you belong to the affluent section of society..they do look good but today they almost got you into trouble, I must ask you to be smarter and careful next time”, he said and smiled.

victor then ordered the shopkeeper to produce the original artifact. Meanwhile, he explained to the lady that how this shop has been selling duplicate items with real certificates and all that is left among the few pieces, is this precious 150 year old pot jar that the shopkeeper reluctantly produced from the inner room. However, just like the others in the lot, this old artifact had no issuing certificate as all the original ones have already been given away with fake items.

Victor further explained that none of the customers’ ever bother to confirm their item’s authentication. Therefore, this crook business was running good for a while & the original pieces were illegally sold with very high prices in the black market. These acts of malice were carried out through a well thought out plan, which involved hoarding and cheating. “So, it must be returned to the authority for evidence and re-issuing”, he stated. The lady was listening to victor’s fluent commentary with strictest attention, she then stepped towards victor and returned his ID , she asked curiously, “officer! I have an unusual request, you see! I have been searching for this particular artifact in this old-market for one month and I am really tired of it. None of the other 13 antique item-shops, that row along this market’s corner lane, seem to possess it. This dungy little shop was my lasting hope. I really want this one, if it’s okay with you, I can even give you extra for your help”, she said in a desperate tone.

“mam! The police will be here in fifteen minutes, this piece has no certificate, so you can’t sell it to anyone later on. Please! don’t find my reasons rude but frankly I will risk my job for 25,000 bucks”, he said, trying to convince her. She took a deep breath and said, “Do hell with law! I will give you 10,000 extra right now! and 5,000 to even this crooked shopkeeper, for keeping his mouth shut!.Now! that’s 40,000 bucks, you can’t refuse that mister”.

“mam! Please understand! I need an evidence, the money is good but..”, he said, unable to articulate further.

“oh! Its okay officer! you have other pieces to confiscate. here’s the money, completely in cash!..i couldn’t make it more easier, now hurry!”,she said, seemingly unaffected to any more logical deniability. It was quite clear that her passion for the item was very high and it was the decisive factor for the extra money. The officer and shopkeeper exchanged a nod of agreement and then gave her the artifact for the high-priced deal, along with the cheap certificate of 500 bucks sale value just as a certification formality. Victor then asked her to leave the shop and move away from the market, as police team was on the way.

An hour later- the lady decided to roll around the street to see what hullabaloo is going  around the corner shop and that old street, but strangely! It was as quiet as she left it an hour ago. She parked her car across the street and started pacing towards the shop to inquire. She stumbled upon the same Mercedes driver who stood there reading his newspaper, “ where’s your officer”,she asked.

“what officer mam..”,he replied,cluelessly.

“Officer victor.. your department’s detective..the man you waved to into the store”, she inquired.

“oh! That guy- ya! Amazing fellow! He gave me 500 bucks, just to wave at him..he said he wanted to impress some rich girl in the store and wanted me to pretend as his chauffeur, crazy guy, must be in love!”,he said, smiling towards the horrified lady.

Not wasting a second, the lady stormed through the glass door and encountered a mid-aged fellow with light brown hair. The old-man looked puzzled at the sight of this flustered female, he looked at her through his half moon spectacles, “yes mam! What can I do for you..”,he asked.

“the owner!, the young boy!, wearing check shirt and trousers..where is he, where is the owner!!”, she said, fervently.

“umm.. I am the owner young lady, I assure you.”, he smiled.. “and the boy your probably talking about is working here temporarily  for the month, in the afternoons ,as I go home for a nap.I am an old guy you see..well! he’s really hardworking and an honest boy I can tell ,came in handy. its like, just what I needed for the afternoons.he went home for a vacation today but he will return in few days.do you want to meet him?”,he said, still wondering why the woman was agitated.

“probably not!..”,she said and she produced the pot, her recently bought purchase, a staggering 40,000 bucks purchase, “do you recognize this pot..its an ancient artifact, I bought this from your shop an hour ago.it has a golden barcode”

“yes I do miss..it’s as ancient as this newly built shop madam!.. if you’re looking for a discount, I can at best give you two for 900 bucks, along with a valid certificate.. and there’s no barcodes madam! it’s a ceramic replica not an electronic item”, he replied, smiling at her.

Now tearful in her eyes and gasping for breath, she looked up in the air. “no! I have the certificate.. no barcodes right!,and i am pretty sure that there’s no such thing as an anti-duplicacy regulatory officer as well”,she said, in a low and depressed voice.

The old man replied, “mam! I have no clue what you’re talking about. I can at max give you a discount, that’s the best I can do, but as the board says-“ no returns, no credits”.

-classwork-

Thank you for reading.

Regards