Neverville

It was damp, dark and full of evil. It never rested in peace. It was full of incomplete emotions. It was a town full of remorse and pain. They gave it the name ‘Neverville’. Neverville was so dark that even light couldn’t penetrate it. You could hear children crying, women beaten up, men shouting and abusing, slashing of throats, small girls crying for help, an elderly suffocating, women being raped, children being cut into pieces. It could never sleep. No one lived there not in the present. There was so much anger breathing, living within it that it was impossible for anyone to not only live but even stare at it for more than three seconds. Neverville was surrounded by oak trees from all sides. There was a large rusty gate which was so huge that it penetrated the clouds. That gate never ended and it was bounded by chains which had huge silver spikes poking out of it. There was an encryption written on that gate, which read,

“Here lies the heart of remorse and the pulse of pain. Touched by the souls of hundreds of people it breathes”

Tall Tales

I know at the end of this story you won’t believe that this ever happened. But let me tell you that each and every word that I’m about to say is true and if it isn’t then this very minute I would be hit by a lightning bolt. So here it goes. So as usual I was traveling by train on that same route which I have been traveling for the past ten years. As always headphones in my ears so loud that even if this train crashed this very moment I won’t come to know until my head came off and I would be like ,”hey!!!Who turned off my i Pod”? So yeah back to my story. I just looked up for a second and,”oh Jesus Christ!!”There was a guy who was not six, not six and half but seven and a half feet tall. He was huge as hell. I mean roof was the only thing that was stopping him from touching the sky. Then my attention wavered for a second and I saw the whole compartment, even the ladies compartment besides ours was staring at him as if it was the end of the world. Some of them were staring into the oblivion. I mean yeah he was tall and yeah his head was touching the roof but people were looking somewhere else only some towards the sky as if this guys upper half was protruding from the roof and was somewhere near the clouds. And then out of the blue a man wearing specks so huge that they looked more like binoculars shouted,” man where does he get his size of jeans”. People started laughing as if someone told them that humans could laugh too. Some of them were creating their own jokes and laughing like mad people and falling from their seats. At first I was also a member of that train compartment laughing committee but then my gaze shifted to that seven and a half feet tall guy. He was standing near the edge of the door and like others looking somewhere above. I mean more then hundred people were making fun of him and shouting, pointing at him so loud that even the people standing on the passing stations could have heard the riot these two compartments were making. But this tall guy was unperturbed by the ongoing laugh riot as if this was like a daily routine for him. Yeah I think it was kind of a daily routine for him. He wasn’t listening to any music and by the end of this story it would also be sure that he was not deaf. If I was in place of this guy I would have jumped from this train to save myself from this embarrassment. But this tall guy was calm as a cucumber. I think he had learned the technique of closing his mind and drifting his thoughts to something which is far more interesting then this usual riot. He was staring towards the sky and the heavy breeze giving him that dreamy look. By this time my headphones were hanging somewhere near my shoes and biting the dust. My station had passed long back and I had no intention of getting off this train. It was as if I was waiting for that climax of the movie and as I say now to my friends I was destined to be on that train that very moment. Suddenly the train started to rock like clothes swirling in the breeze hanging from a rope. Now the people who were still sitting on their seats joined the people who had fallen from their seats. I was somewhere near a smelly crotch. I can still smell that crotch even after two years. I still have nightmares of that crotch. Now the train was not just moving like those clothes I had described earlier it was off its tracks and moving towards the rice fields so fast that it was more like a blur for me but in slow motion. Some say that before you die your whole life plays in your mind at neck breaking speed and then you see that flash of white light. But for me it was not like that my eyes were still fixed on that tall guy. Now this tall guy’s face was not calm anymore and he was holding a pole so hard that his cheeks were red like a volcano. He was thin like a pole he was holding but this guy sure had some inhuman power.
My eyes again switched between others and then back to the tall guy. People still say that what I’m saying is pure bullshit and that my head would have hit a pole and I was imagining. But I swear on my brother’s grave that the whole compartment was still staring at that guy as if they were watching the end of a movie. The train came to a halt and my eyes were still switching as if I was watching a ping pong match. Now the whole world knows that no one was found dead in the compartment number 727.That was our very own laughing committee compartment. Most of them including me were bleeding like hell but there were no screams, no panic nothing at all. All of them including me were still looking at that tall guy. As soon as the train halted this guy removed his grip from the pole and ran like a mad scientist towards us. He wasn’t hurt at all only his jeans had torn from his left knee. No one believed when the passengers of compartment number 727 said that this guy carried four people on his shoulders at a time. There were 108 passengers in that compartment so if we calculate 4 people at a time the conclusion is that it took this tall guy 27 rounds to empty our compartment. Even I wouldn’t have believed this conclusion if my eyes hadn’t witnessed this very own miracle.
That day the news channels got one hell of a story to showcase for two whole days and by third day they had even forgotten that hundreds of lives had been taken in this accident and don’t know how brought humor to this scenario. For example


“The derailed train destroys acres of rice fields. Basmati rice prices shoot up.”


Now yeah I have completed the story but one minor fact still remains. We know that this tall guy saved our lives. We know that he carried 108 people out of that compartment to safety. But what we didn’t know was that His left leg was missing. Our eyes were so fixed on finding that guy’s head somewhere near the sky that we never noticed that he was holding a walking stick in one hand. And then my mind traveled for a second in the past to that part where this tall guy was not running towards us but was hopping, bobbling from side to side.
Sometimes even I think that this incident never happened and that it is just a fragment of my mind. The news channels never saw that tall guy. The passengers of compartment number 727 never saw that guy. It was as if this guy was send by Jesus just for this incident. I’m not that type of guy who says tall tales. It’s just that I came across one which the passengers of compartment number 727 will remember for the rest of their lives.

Gone With The Wind

Once upon a time there was a town not too far from Gorakhpur named ‘shanti land’. The legend goes that the wind use to blow their so hard that not only objects but even children blew away with it. Sometimes even the elderly people were unfortunate enough to get trapped in its grasp. It was not like one of those sudden catastrophic events which occur once in every ten years. This had become more of a daily routine for them. People who blew away were never seen again except for that one single utmost legendary day when manohar’s dad was seen twirling and swirling in the wind and then he was gone. I think he was transported to Oklahoma.
Now that people knew that this wind was their fate they took necessary precautions. Mothers tied their children to the trees with a rope when they use to go out to fetch water from the nearby common well. Sometimes the mothers tied the rope so hard that children died of suffocation. But the winds were blamed for these deaths. As the panchayat was the only authority in shanti land the elderly panchayat members gave the reason that,”yeh hawa ne to iss bachhe ki hawa he udda di(this wind blew the wind out of this kid)”.fathers hammered four king size nails on the four corners of their houses. The whole town use to go together to celebrate diwali and when they came back some of the families houses were gone with the wind forever. Sometimes four children use to go out and play and when they came back only three came. The smallest one disappeared forever into eternity.
After 20 years there is no sign of this wind anymore. But still you can feel the weakening power of that wind. It can now blow only small objects like nails, toothbrush or sometimes even cockroaches. Even though this wind is no more than a breeze when compared to the wind which blew 20 years ago this legend will remain embedded in the minds of their great grandchildren forever.
Yes you can say that this event caused lot of destruction but still life goes on and so did the lives of those people who were once a part of the legendary “shanti land”.

“When the times are dark you will find light in something far smaller then a light bulb. A ray of hope”

Work Of A Genious

He could touch the souls of people by his mind and tell whether it was black or white. He never gave any reasons, no elaborate answers just black or white. I still don’t know why people use to go there and why did I go in the first place but the truth is not a day goes by when I don’t regret my decision. Some memories become hazy with time but this was not an ordinary memory. It didn’t bring any change; hell you can say it destroyed me forever.
White was the word that came out of his mouth. I asked him again, told him that I think he made a mistake. He didn’t say anything not even a single word. I knew just looking into his eyes that this was his final answer and that you should leave him alone and never comeback. I never came back.
There was no need to come back. This was the last time he gave his verdict to anyone. I killed him. He laid there covered in his own dirty blood. His eyes were still open and they were looking at me. Still the answer was white. I stabbed him again and again and again. The answer never changed. It never will.
In my 40 years of life I committed not even a single crime. I was a good son, husband and a father. Never tried smoking, drinking, gambling to the point where I went bankrupt to help my relatives.
I worked hard. Each and every hour of my college life was dedicated to just one thing. I wanted to become a pilot. I wanted to touch the sky free like a bird. I could never become one. Dream once shattered cannot be fulfilled again. So I killed him. There was no relation between me killing him and not able to fulfill my dream. I thought why not give the black soul a try.

“Don’t kill a man. Kill his dream. He won’t die but there would be suffering for life”

Stapler Bound

Once upon a time there was a boy named Jack. He was a complete psycho case from the word go. At the age of 11 he shoved a pencil down his classmate’s ass so far that it took 2 nurses and 3 doctors to extract that sucker out. That day onwards the whole school started calling him as ‘jacko cracko’. When the principal inquired that why he performed such an act just three words came out of his mouth “he told me, “Which made no sense at all. He was suspended for fifteen days and a black mark for life. Student kept referring to him as ‘jacko cracko’ but only behind his back. No one even dared to call him that even if he was just passing by from the other side of the school.
Stapler bound elementary school was kind of one of those money making organizations where there top priority was to teach the children the least and absorb each and every penny from their parents till they turn bankrupt and shift to a public school. It looked more like a haunted even during the day time. It was covered with long branches from top to bottom as the botany department was situated on the roof. Gate leading to the roof was out of bounds. But locks had always been like a knife cutting through butter for jack. He use to always come at night and just stand at the edge of the roof with both hands outstretched as if asking someone to embrace him, take him in her arms so that he could feel the warmth of a body.
The ‘ass shoving’ day was just the beginning to something far more destructive then a boy’s two hole ass. Everyone thought that the fifteen days suspension acted like a miracle changing period for jack. He was always mesmerized in his thoughts. But it was not a confused 11 year old's look which always rounds up to that puberty period where suddenly hair starts to grow as branches of trees and irritating girls start to look more like angels transported to earth just now by god. There was something else in his eyes as if working on a plan trying to arrange the pieces of a puzzle. Sometime later in the year when winter arrived and not for ever but for some time turned that haunted mansion into something that looked more like a place inhabited by the elf’s of Santa Claus something happened that turned the knob of attention back to jack. Even after so many years students still talk about that day but in whispers as if it is bound to a curse if someone says aloud then he too would go insane. It was so cold that day that even the Eskimos would have died of freezing. But as the students of stapler bound elementary school were always high they thought that it was because of that new sandalwood pipe which was sold to everyone by our very own dumb as hell jock jimmy Moore. jimmy was one of those guys who’s parents didn’t give a shit about their child and encouraged him to take drugs as they too were drug dealers and thought why not expand their business to the school level also after all who doesn’t like marijuana. Jimmy at 6”5 was huge and kinder garden students thought that he ran a factory of chests on his body. But he was not one of those I-will-kick-your-ass-for-no-reason types. He just minded his own business never attended any classes and sold drugs at premium costs and no theft in the quantity. Overall yeah you can say that he was a goner and would die of overdose someday in a lousy “10x15” apartment alone. But he was kind hearted and sold exceptionally miraculous marijuana. He went insane that very Christmas.

To Be Continued.....