Three Unfinished Stories

The last time I wrote a story was in April 2008. (I posted that in ch1blogs. I moved all those blogs to blogspot after I resigned from Cognizant.) One year has passed. In this one year, I have tried to write story a lot of times. Some plots were in my mind. And I even started with some of them. But I was never able to complete any of them. After writing for sometime, my mind was hitting a wall and I never got back to the mood for writing. The techies even have a definition for my situation. Wiki says this about the issue - 'Writer's Block - a phenomenon involving temporary loss of ability to begin or continue writing, usually due to lack of inspiration or creativity.' After thinking for an year, now I am convinced that I will never be able to complete these stories. So I am presenting these to all of you. And I will be very glad if any of you can suggest any continuation for any of these stories.

MIRACLE ONLINE

Read this slowly, “God I love u and I need u, come into my heart now”- Send this to 10 people, including me, see a miracle tonight, plz don’t delete...Seriously it works"

Tat was the latest scrap in Priya’s scrapbook. The scrap was from Smitha, an old time pal. Once Priya left school, she hasn’t maintained contacts with her. But last week, she got a friend request from Smitha and she accepted it. This was only her second scrap to Priya. Now tats an interesting one, thought Priya. Such messages usually come in email or SMS. She’s seeing one like that in a scrap for the first time. The question in her mind was whether to send it to 10 people or not. ‘What the hell. I just had to copy it and paste in 10 friends’ scrapbook. If there is a chance for miracle, let’s try it.’ She started sending the scrap to her friends, starting with Smitha, then to Kavya, Suchi, Anju… U may be wondering why the list contains girls only. That’s Priya. Even though there are some boys in her friend list, rarely does she send a scrap to one of them. Now why? That even this author doesn’t know. She is peculiar in her own ways. Always a bit different from others…

THE LOCAL VOLCANO

On and around the Vilangan hills…

1

Father Gregory noted with satisfaction that in spite of the rainy season, most of the people have come to attend the morning mass as usual. He thought about the newspaper reports stating the meager attendance of believers in Christian churches in Europe, some of the churches even being sold and converted to auditoriums and public halls. Perhaps its time they take a look at this southern state in India. While devout catholism was collapsing all over Christendom just like the fall of communism, Christianity (and interestingly, communism too) has been growing and developing here. The church is so strong that they have more power than any political party. That too, without any bloody conversions, temple destructions or inquisition courts unlike the case of Goa. Here, the activities of churches were legal and they were serving the society well, especially in education and health sectors. Reverting from the thoughts, he started giving his speech.

‘Believers of Christ, listen. I had a vision last night. A vision that a great danger is approaching.’ he paused to get attention. The hall became suddenly silent. All were eager to hear what he is going to say. Fr Gregory noted with satisfaction that some of the boys who were taking a nap suddenly have become attentive. ‘This place of ours, Vilangan hills and nearby areas is going to face the wrath of our Lord. Yesterday, our Lord showed me the real Vilangan, the Vilangan volcano.’ Suddenly the hall became filled with chatters. The silent hall became a noisy place. Some of the elders were in an ‘I told you so’ mood because such a rumor existed there. ‘Silence, all. Even though what I have just said is disturbing, what I am going to say is more disturbing. Our beloved Lord told me that the volcano, which is now disguised as a hill since its mouth is covered, is going to erupt, the DAY AFTER TOMORROW.’

There started an outcry among the people. Some people were already screaming the name of Jesus Christ. 55 year old Annama was among the few who were still calm. She was calm because she believed in God. She believed in Bible and its teachings. She believed that every human being has to suffer for his/her sins committed. But she was sure nothing will happen to her because she had only some small sins in her account. Not that she has not committed that many sins, but every week she meets the Father, confesses the sins she committed and asks forgiveness. She did it last Saturday. She noted that today being Wednesday, she can’t wait for Saturday, the day of eruption for her next meeting. She has committed a few sins in these three days. She has beaten a boy in the neighborhood for entering her garden and stepping his foot on her newly planted lilies just to take his wretched cricket ball which had fallen there during the play. She thought it her luck that she then decided at least not to take custody of the ball, cricket being originated in Europe. Else she would have the sin of stopping the play of children too to add to her list of sins. Then there was the beggar she scolded for coming the second time in the same week. Then… She was mentally preparing the list of things for which she should seek forgiveness as soon as possible.

Grace was now 63 years old. She was confident that with sufficient prayers, this danger can be averted. She remembered a past event. A year after the tsunami ravage in South Asia, Father Gregory predicted another tsunami. Even the local media didn’t heed the warning then. But the believers got together and prayed a whole day, continuously in the mass hall, without food or water. Their prayers were heard. No tsunami came. She now really thought they wouldn’t have organized those special prayer sessions. Even if that meant death for a lot of people including her, the media which buffed Fr Gregory as a lunatic would have learnt the lesson. They would have now become believers of Christ. Then they wouldn’t have dared to write those dirty things about Church as they are doing now.

Fr. Gregory continued, ‘We don’t have to worry about our fate. We have devoted the whole of our life in the service of the true lord unlike the pagan worshippers. Our place in heaven is assured once we die. But for the future life of the younger ones here, we must ask forgiveness from lord for the sins committed by all. Special prayer sessions will be held on the day. I request you to be present during those prayers and pray wholeheartedly so that the lord may help us.’

Fr. Gregory knew that those special prayer sessions will be attended only by a few stern believers. Others would have fled the place by then. He didn’t see any wrong in that. Life is that much precious and life is what he is trying to save now. He thought about that sound he heard from beneath while he was walking on the hill, last morning. Then he got an idea what was about to come. But if he told his experience like that, no one will believe it and discard it as an old man’s rumblings. But when it is wrapped like this way, it becomes the divine announcement. That should warn most of the people, or atleast, his flocks. He wished to say to all of them to flee. But then, the King of Rome would become unhappy. Not that he cared about that, the church here has grown so powerful that it was able to question the Godman of Rome when he told that St. Thomas didn’t visit India. But Fr knew that he is the captain of this ship. When the ship sinks, he should sink with it. So he should do it in a prudent manner.

There suddenly started another commotion. Fr saw people carrying Annama away. It was later learned that she had a heart attack.

A NEW LIFE

The Impact

Driving is a passion for me, be it in bike or car. When the traffic is mild and road is good, I like to literally fly. And that day too, I was flying. NH47 was not so busy since it was a Sunday. The maximum rated speed of a Passion Plus is 89 Kph. I have reached there a lot of times, and most of the times, it was achieved in this highway. I glanced at the meter. 80. Still more to go. More turn for accelerator, more gasoline for the engine. Suddenly a guy on a bike, who was a bit in front of me at the left, remembered that he had to turn to the small road at the right. It was already late for the turn. His impulses made the turn, but at such stimuli-response actions, brain doesn’t have time to think of looking back to make sure no vehicles are coming or switching on an indicator or giving a hand signal. And so he was right in front of me, his girl friend holding on to him. The only thing I can do to save the situation was to apply the brakes. I did it and then, I was really flying. I counted the number of times my head was bouncing on the road – 1, 2, 3… I blacked out. In that instant, I felt I was in my classroom, and Nandini teacher was taking the class – “Newton’s first law of motion - Every body continues in its state of rest or of motion unless an external unbalanced force acts on it…” Then I came back to the senses. A lot of people were around me. “I’m ok” proclaimed me. I took off my helmet and kissed it. “Are you sure, you are ok?” asked most of the people. I said I am fine. I don’t know why I used my hand to feel the chin. But I did that and it was wet there. I looked at my hand then, and it was full of the blood from my chin. The color of your own blood in such quantities is not a good sight, and I again blacked out…