Tag Archives: story

SHORT STORY: THE WORRYING KING

Copyright@shravancharitymission

king problem worry

In primitive times there once ruled an intelligent king who constantly worried about something or the other. And every now and then, for various reasons, he used to feel helpless and hapless. He often behaved like those ordinary people who for lack of resources could never face a problem in a lively and bold manner. As a consequence of which he never laughed. Even his ministers never saw him laughing. Nor did they ever smile in the king’s presence.

    One day, the well-wishers of the king discreetly thought of ways and means to change his attitude towards life. So they made a plan. Next time, when the king’s court was held. Like any other time the king called for his closest minister and said, ‘I’m worried about something.’ Upon hearing this. The minister promptly replied, ‘yes your honour. I know that, and I have been thinking about it.’ Upon hearing the minister’s reply the king was astounded, ‘even without my telling you, how do you, know about my worry?’ The king asked.

    The minister replied humbly. ‘Your majesty. I’m not interested in learning about your problem, because I already know the solution to your problem.’ King was surprised at this and he said, ‘even without knowing my problem, how do you know the solution?’  Minister replied in a respectful tone. ‘Your majesty, quite possibly you may not have one but many problems, but to all your problems there is only one solution.’

And upon hearing this. The king got baffled and hesitantly asked, ‘May I know, what is the solution to my problem?’

The minister replied, ‘your majesty, please don’t worry about the solution as, it is absolutely on the dot and perfect for you.’ The king tried to guess what the minister had in mind when he said, ‘well if there is a problem how can I not worry?’

Minister bowed respectfully and asked, ‘your majesty, till date has your worry solved any of your problems? ‘No,’ replied the king. “Well if that is so then why worry?’ Mystery of success doesn’t lie in worries, but removal of worries. And, it is also true that your worries lead you to your grave. The joy of life is in rejoicing and not in worrying. Your majesty, you are so knowledgeable. With your wisdom you lead us. So then, why don’t you set up a more vivacious aura of yourself in front of us?

The king then realised his stupidity and ignorance. He also realised how in a subtle manner his minister and his well-wishers taught him this simple fact of life. He started laughing, and was rather astonished, when everyone else too, started laughing with him.

    This is an ancient story. That tells us, worrying is not the solution to our problem. On the contrary it makes us weak and creates barriers on our way to success. To win over your worry means you have already won fifty percent of the battle.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

Share if you like it

*

Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

(Archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)  

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. Book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

Story of an Indian salesman who is lowly qualified but fights his ways through uncertainities to reach the top. A good read for all salesmen. Book launched on 10th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon.com and Flipkart

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

*****

SHORT STORY: NEWTON’S … EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION

Copyright@shravancharitymission

Some 40 years back

tempo2 MOTION

 

 

 

 

 

    It was a gorgeous Friday morning when we came out of the university campus—bunking classes; and were in a great hurry to the board the beast that you see above—the absurd ‘tempo’ nicknamed ‘Suwar’ (pig) as it could poke its nose, anywhere and everywhere on a busy road. We were already late for the noon show, and mind you an adult one, with all those … aha … aha scenes.

    With me was tall, lanky and mangy Sandy Lal— about whom, I was not sure whether he practiced Hinduism or Christianity, for he at times, visited the Church on Sundays, and with equal casualness he even swallowed the prasad of Lord Hanuman–those tasty, and as many, besan-ka-laddoos at the Hanuman temple, especially on Tuesdays, when I used to break my fast with half a kg of those. So, God, alone knew what he was, but yes there was little doubt, about his being God fearing.

    Also, accompanying us was Amrish Tiwari, son of Vice Principal Tiwari, of Christ Church College, which wasn’t far from the Lucknow University campus. Amrish, a Christian with a Hindu surname, was perennially bewitched by the Bard of Avon.

    The rumour around was, the initial scenes were quite explosive. So, we three were waiting quite eagerly for the next tempo, by the roadside to be on time. And, just then we saw one approaching. But I guess the guy had space only for two, he slowed down, and for a fraction of a second even halted, but seeing the three of us together, he decided to move on, and rightly so. This irked us.

    We were now late for the show and therefore restless. And, as the tempo moved Amrish shot from the hip, some nicely laced Hindi ones, and seconded by kicking the side panel of the Suwar. But in the process he mildly him hurt himself.

    Sandy who was behind me, felt he should do something more aggressive than Amrish, to establish his one-upmanship. So, he ran behind the tempo and using his long skinny legs tried to kick it, when his foot got stuck, in the rear fender, and he was dragged for a while after falling flat on his back. The uproar made the tempo driver to stop it.

    Good heavens! By now Amrish had sprained his foot and Sandy couldn’t get up when he was stretchered to a close by clinic where we came to know he had fractured his ankle.

    And with all this, the aha … aha scenes, had gone for a toss. A Chinese lunch post the movie, too, was out of question as all the money was utilised in bandage and plaster, and what was left was just enough for a quarter kg of besan-ka-laddoos, from the close by Hanuman temple which we all shared.

    I realised, bunking college always doesn’t take you where you want to be. And, if you try and hurt someone, it will have an equal and opposite reaction, just as Newton’s third law of motion, but God forbid, if you compete in hurting someone, there could be a double whammy, like Sandy.

*

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

Share if you like it

*

Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

BOOK QUOTES … INTERESTING LINES

Copyright@shravancharitymission

Name of book and author is not mentioned. Should you want to know please write to us.

ULYSSESHARRY PORTERBENHUR

  • For as his brain developed—you cannot stop your brain developing, and it is one of the tragedies of the half-educated that they develop late, when they are already committed to some wrong way of life.
  •   “It’s all very well,” grumbled Ellis, with his forearms on the table, fidgeting with his glass. The dispute with Mr. Macgregor had made him restless again. “It’s all very well, but I stick to what I said. No natives in this Club! It’s by constantly giving way over small things like that that we’ve ruined the Empire. This country’s only rotten with sedition because we’ve been too soft with them. The only possible policy is to treat ‘em like the dirt they are. This is a critical moment, and we want every bit of prestige we can get. We’ve got to hang together and say, ‘We are the masters, and you beggars—‘ “ Ellis pressed his small thumb down as though flattening a grub—“ ‘you beggars keep your place!’”
  • He followed her into the bedroom. In a week–it was only a week–her appearance had degenerated extraordinarily. Her hair looked greasy. All her lockets were gone, and she was wearing a Manchester longyi of flowered cotton, costing two rupees eight annas. She had coated her face so thick with powder that it was like a clown’s mask, and at the roots of her hair, where the powder ended, there was a ribbon of natural-coloured brown skin. She looked a drab. Flory would not face her, but stood looking sullenly through the open doorway to the veranda.
  • “Thank you, Monsieur.” She spoke in English but her voice was foreign, a rich low voice very seductive in quality. As she was about to pass on, she hesitated and murmured: “Pardon, Monsieur, but I think you were recently at Grasse?”
  • At the same time, the Emperor had a great desire that I should see the magnificence of his palace; but this I was not able to do till three days after, which I spent in cutting down, with my knife, some of the largest trees in the royal park, about a hundred yards distance from the city. Of these trees I made two stools, each about three feet high, and strong enough to bear my weight.
  • Alas,” said Candide, “my dear Pangloss often proved to me that the goods of this world are common to all men, that everyone has an equal right to them. Acting on that principle, the Franciscan should have left us enough to finish our journey. So you have nothing left, fair Cunegonde?”
  • P.V. Narasimha Rao came from humble home. His intellectual centre was India; his roots were deep in its spiritual and religious soil. His knowledge of Sanskrit profound. He was a man of learning, a scholar, a linguist and a thinker of the first order.
  • Gogol has never heard the term ABCD. He eventually gathers that it stands for “American-born confused deshi.” In other words him. he learns that C could also stand for “conflicted.”
  • The Don said meekly, “Wait, I’ll get you your money.” Then he went out into the garden and said to Sonny, “Listen, there’s some men working on the furnace, I don’t understand what they want. Go in and take care of the matter.”
  • “The rudeness spread to one of the assistant directors,” said Moriarty. “Instead of calling Marilyn for a scene, he would stand there and glare at her, tapping his foot for as long as he could. There would eventually be a big blow up, when all the man had to do was say, ‘Excuse me, Miss Monroe, we’re ready for you.’ She was denied all the prerogatives of a star.”
  • Taken aback by this passionate eloquence, Ruru lowered his staff. He feared that the snake might be a sage in disguise. Seeking to appease the great soul, Ruru said, “You do not seem like an ordinary snake. I believe you must be some other being only temporarily occupying this form. Tell me then, how did you come to be a snake?’
  • The sun was now setting. It was about three in the afternoon when Alisande had begun to tell me who the cow-boys were; so she had made pretty good progress with it- for her. She would arrive some time or other, no doubt, but she was not a person who could be hurried- Sandy’s Tale- Mark Twain page 107
  • I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.
  • FAY. Your son is a thorn in my flesh. The contents of his dressing-table are in indictment of his way of life. Not only firearms, but family-planning equipment. A Papal dispensation is needed to dust his room.
  • In a country as diverse as ours, there will always be passionate arguments about how we draw the line when it comes to government action. That is how our democracy works. But our democracy might work a bit better if we recognized that all of us possess values that are worthy of respect; if liberals at least acknowledged that the recreational hunter feels the same way about his gun as they feel about their library books, and if conservatives recognized that most women feel as protective of their right to reproductive freedom as evangelicals do of their right to worship.
  • The pigeon that stays at home is always in terror for the fate of the pigeon on the wing.
  • All this modern brag about women’s lib, male bashing appeared as poster signs for the erudite to read and jostle through this not-so-good world, as you still had the Ria’s of the world to be saved from the callous studs and the bitchy hens of the ‘scheming jungle’ called society.’
  • ‘Mar. Death is a penalty which a person can pay only once, and she has made that payment. What you wish to do has been done already for you. the last words she spoke were, “Anthony, most noble Anthony!” and in the midst of her speech, a rending groan came in the middle of “Anthony”; the word was split in two between, her heart and her lips. She gave up her life, and the half of your name was buried within her.’
  • “All is well so far. The lambardar reports regularly. No refugees have come through the village yet.I am sure no one in Mano Majra even knows that the British have left and the country is divided into Pakistan and Hindustan. Some of them know about Gandhi but I doubt if anyone has even heard about Jinnah.”
  • In the Mahabharata, Pandu has two wives but cannot have sex with them because of a curse. Pandu means pale and weak and could be related to the Sanskrit word panda meant for men unable to have sex with women for a variety of reasons.
  • ‘Mr Gilmer’s back stiffened a little, and I felt sorry for him. Perhaps I’d better explain something now. I’ve heard that lawyers’ children, on seeing their parents in court in the heat of argument, get the wrong idea: they think opposing counsel to be the personal enemies of their parents, they suffer agonies, and are surprised to see them often go out arm-in-arm with their tormentors during the first recess.’
  • ‘Well, there was once a tortoise, who was, of course, provided with a shell, and within this shell he used to hide for protection against the attacks of his enemies. One day, someone said to him, “You must find it very hot inside there in the summertime. Besides, when you are hidden, no one can admire your bodily perfections. Now, here is a serpent who will give you a million and a half for your shell.”’ ‘Good!’ said Monsieur Fouquet, laughing.       ‘So the tortoise sold his shell, and had to go about unprotected. He was discovered by a vulture, who, feeling hungry, broke his back with a blow of his beak, and had him for dinner.’
  • A little later, full into view swung a duplication of his dromedary, tall and white, and bearing a houdah, the travelling litter of Hindostan.’
  • Viswamitra, the greatest of the ascetic heroes of the Iliad of the East, had in him a perfect representative. He might have been called a Life drenched with the wisdom of Brahma- Devotion Incarnate.’
  • ‘He spoke bluffly, and only somebody like Sherlock Holmes or Monsieur Poirot could have divined that at the sound of her voice his soul had turned a double somersault, leaving him quivering with an almost Bill Rowcester-like intensity.’
  • Initially the losses ran to crores of rupees, Sir, but since we stopped production it has proved very economical !

ALLURING MIRAGE OF RAJ ESTATE-LUDHIANA, A SHORT STORY BY KAMLESH TRIPATHI

Copyright@shravancharitymission

Purchase the short story to contribute for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases.

Price Rs 50 only

rajestate

ALLURING MIRAGE OF Raj estate-Ludhiana

By Kamlesh Tripathi

 scm image

Published by: Shravan Charity Mission

Few lines for flavour:

  •  ‘Papa ji, my friend who recently went to Toronto was telling me around ten to fifteen lacs, when his Parents are still supporting him till he finds a job. O-O Daddy ji, it is very, very tough these days.’ replied Mandeep.
  • Soon the ambience at home deteriorated. Fun, cheer, smiles were replaced by gloom and suspicion. Rapid degradation followed in interpersonal. The boisterous evenings that saw all the three brothers clanging their glasses, nibbling rich snacks in the lawns of the Kothi had turned turtle.
  • Mandeep, had married a girl of Canadian origin without informing his Parents. Jasmeet invited Jasvinder and Sukhbir for his wedding to a Tamilian software engineer but they refused to attend.
  • A gloom had set in around the clan. Rajs were now past sixty … senior citizens. Some even had health problems. Banto, had recently informed Gurdeep that Upinder and Lovely had visited PGI Chandigarh a couple of times. Perhaps, between them someone was not well.”

PRICE RS 50 (It takes just thirty minutes to receive a PDF copy of the story after remitting the payment) Write to us after making a net transfer, on the blog itself or on our e-mail id: shravancharitymission@gmail.com and we will mail the copy to you.

FOR NET TRANSFER DETAILS REFER THE FOLLOWING ACCOUNT DETAILS;

Name of account: Kamlesh Tripathi

ICICI account no: 008301504072

IFSC code: ICIC0000018

Thanks & Regards