Grandpa's Wooden Compartment

Nobody knew how Grandpa had come to the village. There were stories of how a thunderous night had given way to a new day when there was a hut right beyond the last fields of the village. Initially, for the villagers Grandpa was a saint and a great man of magical abilities. As time went by, the villagers were clarified about the old man’s abilities which were definitely magical.

Grandpa had a separate wooden compartment outside his hut. It was from here that Grandpa laboriously exercised his force to communicate with something divine. The wooden compartment was where Grandpa amplified the great rumblings of his tummy. The sounds were heavy and could easily be mistaken for thunder due to which many farmers of the village would some time run to their fields expecting a shower but every time to their utter disappointment it would be Grandpa fooling them from his compartment.

The compartment’s close proximity to the village would display the after-effects every morning. When the villagers would see fainted skunks, pigs and hyenas everywhere, it wasn’t surprising for the villagers as they knew the disastrous scent of Grandpa’s prowess. Every night the scenario was the same, the villagers would be fearfully having their meals and Grandpa would be ending his meals of radishes and onions in the wooden compartment.

Grandpa was known to make edible balls from a powdered substance, Churan. It was made up of spices, herbs and a bit of weed. He would keep these edible balls in large jars outside his hut with only the birds feeding on it. It was believed that Churan ignited an inner fire in a being which gave your rear the ability to roar like a lion, a roar that could shake up the heavens and the meditating Gods there. Birds who constantly fed on Grandpa’s Churan had changed quite differently into creatures with a constant feeling of rage, since they couldn’t let out the heat of their inner fires due to the absence of a rear outlet.

Some of these different birds had migrated to the city which had inspired a human game on them, which showed replicas of these birds destroying physical structures.

The villagers found a ray of hope when the talking donkey told them about the approaching bandits. That’s how the villagers fled overnight hoping to return only when the bandits were gone and so was Grandpa.

On a fateful morning Grandpa was chewing a radish with the leader of the bandits pointing his rifle muzzle at him. The other bandits were right behind him on their horses. Grandpa offered the gun holder a radish but he refused. The bandit’s intention to pull the trigger was interrupted by a sudden rush of birds high on Grandpa’s Churan.

As every bandit was on the ground struggling with the birds, Grandpa went from bandit-to-bandit, sitting on every bandit’s face and blessing him with a loud roar. Every time he blessed a bandit, the bandit shook like he had ingested lightning. After Grandpa was done with all 15 of them, they all dropped their guns and raised their arms and Grandpa said, “Welcome back to life, sons”

The villagers returned only to see Grandpa and his 15 bandits chewing their radishes and roaring at them with a smile. And from then on, things became very intense during the nights with not 1 but 16 wooden compartments.

Figment of a Memory

He lied down there, in utter bemusement watching the little twinkling dots of brilliance. A warm breath of air hit his cheek. On turning to the side, a twisted smile spread on his face. His hands reached out, feeling her silky hair. After a playful surrender, he held her warm fist with his fingers intertwined in her.

A tenderly gush of air started to blow, with her hair playfully dancing in randomness. Sometimes hiding a part of her smile, sometimes covering her beautiful eyes. Under the stars, between them, a universe was complete.

With an arm gently placed on her, he started looking up again. A sigh of contentment thanked the forces of nature for this perfect moment. The dark and starry sky broke with a sharp yellow dot. It pierced his vision making him shield his eyes as he grumbled in disgust.

Soon the sharp light went off and he looked up at a dark figure standing before, "Didn't I tell you to stop these late night homages, you retard?!" he heard a voice said.

Something immediately threw him back to sorts again. He got up, kissed the gravestone and ran away.

Celebration of the Moment

Jack sipped his black coffee sitting in a congested cabin. A place so tiny that even the cigarette smoke was finding it hard to disappear outside. He was about to light his fourth cigarette when he heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he cried.

“It’s Alison” a voice replied back.

“Come in Al”

Alison walked in; he began coughing trying to accustom him to the suffocation inside.

“So Mr. Sheriff, What do we have with us?” Jake took a puff of the cigarette he had just lit.

“Evidence, sir, something that will feed our curiosities as we have lunch” Alison sat down, kept his hat on the table cluttered with files and hefty registers.  On the untidy table, a small monitor screen was kept. Jake looked at Alison tidying up the table as he patiently puffed out his cigarette. Finally enough space was made that would facilitate two people to have a comfortable meal.

“Alright sir. Are we ready?” Alison sat down.

“Yes indeed” Jake picked up the phone and placed his order.

Once the eateries arrived on the table, Alison inserted a small cassette into the cassette player. The small TV screen on the table blinked in response, showing a close up of a young man’s face. With his tongue popped out, one could make out from his unseen hand gestures that he was trying to adjust the camera.

After unknowingly giving funny expressions he finally stopped, “Oh! It’s on!’ he cried.

Minutes later this man who called himself Teeber started talking about his wife who had left him and how gravely it saddened him. He called the lonely nights, “Disturbingly haunting” and the days, “Lifelessly redundant”. He talked about his son Little Timmy who had referred to him as a “bad man” and how he had left with his mommy on that Sunday morning. He went on talking about working in a factory and a meager wage.

“Mommy! Only you know how Teeber feels like” he looked up. His cries began subsiding, giving way to sobs. “Get up Teeber! Mommy’s watching you. She’s asking you to get up on your feet” Teeber mumbled with his hands cupping his face.

“I don’t need reasons to rejoice!”  Teeber suddenly stood up as if something had taken control of him. Within no time he had lined up bottles on the table. After drinking three back-to-back, he turned on the music system and started dancing like a high voltage current was trying to sustain itself in his body.

Every now and then Teeber would come near the camera screaming and howling with a repeated claim, “I’ve won over everything!”

The time at the bottom of the screen read 3:11 am. “It’s almost time” Alison looked away from the screen and saw Jake with glimmering eyes.

At 3.16 am Teeber’s celebration was interrupted by vibrations around him. The camera fell down and was displaced to an odd angle which showed the roof of the place. A mass of concrete came down and the video went blank.

Jake wiped his eyes, “This unfortunate catastrophe might’ve not killed his spirit” he said.

They both sat there, observing a silent prayer.  After a while Alison put his hat and walked off.