My Freedom Lies in Fire

                                                            Image from Mag 66

Sally sat on her couch, glancing at the river through her window, while she eased her mind away from the thoughts that preoccupied her for last many days. She kept the book closer to her chest as if she was embracing someone. Even in her calmness, her eyes glowed like that of a conqueror.  Last many days, this old book from the village library has given her a reason to come alive, a welcome break from her monotonous life with no purpose. She travelled a lot and visited as many libraries she could as she tried to put final touches on her research paper on “libraries and its influence on social life in villages.”Mulford, a sleepy village was her last stop.

Three days back, while visiting the Mulford library along with a kid in her new neighborhood, she never thought that she would find so many old books there. She just scrambled through the books casually until the slip on a book caught her attention. “289.6 CRI”. There was no name of the author or publisher on the side, unlike other books. The dilapidated binding showed its age. When she flipped the pages, she felt the smell of past hidden within its soul. She lent the book out of sheer curiosity. She realized that the book was relatively a new book for library, as was kept amongst recent arrivals section. From the librarian, she learned that one old man has recently donated it along with other seven books recently. Though tried to find the name of the donor, librarian refused to reveal the identity as it was against the rules of library. She had an intuition that she knew the donor somehow.

 While walking back to her home, she recollected that she has once tried to take this book from a library in her hometown Salford, as she stared at the code all along. Back then, she couldn’t as someone had already ordered for that book.  Though she tried to get this book for many months 10 years back, she was told that someone hasn’t returned the book. After reading the book, she found a new energy in her life. However, she wasn’t sure about the reason behind her rejuvenation. She spent major part of her life on books and studies. Finally, loneliness has taken toll on her journey as she missed her long-lost husband more with each day. She had given up his fortune to lead a nomadic lifestyle of travelling along the sleepy towns and villages to find the soul of libraries.  All along, she hoped to find this old book somewhere.

At night, she sat on the steps outside the house, watching the flames arising from the pages of the book. She warmed her hands with its heat. “My freedom lies in fire”, the book she enjoyed reading became ashes. She collected it in her hand and threw it in air as if releasing pigeons. Indeed, she has freed the soul of book just as the author wished. It was the only copy of that book printed by the writer himself in a quest to get a publisher. He tried his whole life to get a reader. However, he could not get one. He carried this book along with him to the small towns and villages he visited for work and displayed it on libraries. With time, the book caught up with tears and wears of ageing just as much as his own beard. In every library, he donated the book, but somehow stole it away after seeing it without takers. Every day, he used to go to library to see if it’s still there. However, Mulford was his last stop as he had lost his hope! He donated his only fortune, the eight books, to the library. She whispered, goodbye Jonathan Jopster. A name nobody will remember nor will know. But, she will keep the name in her heart for rest of the life.

Two days earlier, she came across the news that a long bearded man found dead on the river, nearer to library. She went to the spot out of curiosity. She realized that the old man might be the one who donated the book to the library. The librarian acknowledged it, even as refused to reveal the name. She saw him in every library she visited. It may be mere coincidence. Sometimes, she wondered whether she was following him or other way around. Libraries were the one common interest that kept them meeting from distance, though they didn’t know each other and their mottos. She always has noticed that he never took any book, but sat on bench staring at some stands. Then after few days, he will vanish.  As it didn’t affect her, she never tried to talk to him nor tried to find the reason for his visits to the places she visit. She became curios about the book as she felt that there might be some clue about the old man in it.

While reading, she came across one page in which she found just these words, “My freedom lies in fire. I carried this burden all my life. I can’t bear it anymore. I might not exist while you read this. I am grateful to you for reading. You have fulfilled my dream by reading my story. I don’t think, there will be another afterwards, like before you. So, burn this book and throw the ashes in air and free my soul.” Jonathan Jopster

Written on prompt Mag 66 @ Magpie Tales . Visit there to experience other writers creations. Thanks.

Crazy Apple

Aliza rushed to home in a hurry after learning that a lady has already taken her 2-year-old son home. She was as worried as she had not entrusted anyone take him home, though she knew that she will get late after her board meeting. She was very anxious and her mind was dancing to the tunes of fear and negative thoughts. She became curious as she saw the door being left open rather casually. She became more worried as she saw the lady-sandals lying on the hall. On the couch, there was ladies bag and found that someone has messed the wall with lipstick. She was sure that, it might be the handy work of Andrewz, her son. She was relieved that, he might be there somewhere in the house. However, she was worried about this mysterious lady. Who might be this lady, she wondered!

 Aliza always had suspected her husband Keithson of having affair with one of his business executives. But, he is now in shanghai for a business trip and he had called her just half an hour ago to tell that he will get back after two days. She wondered if it is her sister or even her mother. However, both of them are at Chicago for attending the wedding of her cousin, which she skipped as she had this board meeting. She was shocked when she entered her room. She was always obsessed about keeping her room well arranged and always fought with her husband about being so untidy. Her bed literally looked like a jungle of ladies attires. She thought it might be the handiwork of the naughty boy. He always loves messing the stuffs in the house.

Aliza checked other rooms to see where they are. While she entered the guest room, she found the TV playing out some weird fashion shows. She felt very angry after seeing her book being kept in a disgusting manner with a half-bitten apple over it on the table. She has kept it like a treasure for years as her favorite author Delwick Hainez signed it. Now she is very much in a mood to slap the lady, no matter who it is. She found the door to the backyard left wide open. Therefore, she went to the backyard and her eyes fumed with vengeance as she found that her roses are not there anymore. She cared her roses like her like anything in her free time. She found a football lying on the lawn. It literally looked like a narrow pond as water kept flowing from the hose.

Aliza moved to her little forest. She wanted to have the feel of a forest in her backyard, so she planted so many trees and now it looks perfectly like a small forest. She found toys of her son on her way. She started worrying as she felt something has happened to her son. She walked faster towards a small pond inside her forest. She saw the footprints of both of them. She moved along that direction. From distance, she saw a hot lady in a wet towel, which somehow covered her assets. The lady was looking up towards a tree. She was like pleading. She looked towards the tree and she was shocked. Her little son had climbed that small tree somehow.

Aliza ran towards the tree while screaming, baby hold on the branch. The lady turned around with a jerking reaction. She thought it was some stranger. Before she could scream, she realized that its someone she knows. Aliza felt relieved as well. She said, I would take care of you later, first let me bring down my kid. After much cajoling, they both somehow managed to bring down Andrewz. Aliza hugged him, and kissed him. She was crying. Suddenly the lady told her, I am sorry. I was having a shower. By the time I got out of the bathroom, I did not see Andrewz in the house, so I was searching for him all around and I found him here. Luzy, I do not need any explanation, you could have called me and informed that you are taking him home. Aliza, when I came here you were not here and I felt that you would be late to pick him up.

It took a while for both of them to get over the shock of what they have gone through. After cleaning up the premises, they shared coffee in the kitchen, laughing at the horror they faced. Aliza asked Luzy, why you came without informing me? Well, I wanted to give you a surprise. What surprise? I am getting married to your brother! I came to invite you. How dare you? Where is that little rascal, Benton? He sent me to tell you this first. Luzy, you did not come with a surprise, you had shocked me through the whole eve.  Well, why did you say no when he proposed you last year? Aliza, then we had a fight and I was very angry with him then. Well he came around, apologized couple of months back, and then we decided to get married. Well Luzy, I am happy for both of you. We were best of friends for years and now we are going to be family. However, I am not going to let you go just like that for messing my home.

Aliza, by the way, what were you thinking when you found all these ladies items? Luzy, you I was having way too many suspicious thoughts. However, I was sure that, someone I know did these. Well, Aliza, I am sorry. I did this prank on you. It was not Andrewz; I did all this to get you mad. Actually, I kept him on the tree and told him to keep hold of tree. Therefore, when you came, it just looked as if he did everything. Well, it took lot of bribing to get him do this final act. Gave lot of chocolates and asked for more even while sitting on the tree. Luzy, that is cruel, you played with my boy’s safety. Well Aliza, you may not know, your hubby makes him climb these small trees when he gets free time. Actually, it was his plan to scare you a bit. You devils, Aliza screamed and both of them broke into laughter, even as Andrew was busy in messing the floor with coffee! 

I am still a naive short story writer. My first love is obviously poetry. I am looking forward for suggestions from all of you to improve my craft in short story writing. This story is inspired by the image/prompt at  magpietales  blog carnival. Please visit to read others tales. Thanks :) 

A Road in my memories

When I was a kid, I used to daydream about a new road that could connect my native home in that lonely hill to the main road. Though I loved scaling down that hill to go to my school and loved climbing it back in the evening to get home, it was tiring. During monsoon season, it was fun to scale down the hill in company of rain streams, which run down the hill to join the channel on the side of paddy fields. I think my inspiration to write may have derived from those lonely walks through different paths in that hill. I was never alone in those journeys as thoughts and imaginary friends kept me cheerful. In the morning, the exuberance of getting to the school made the journeys exciting and the eagerness to get to the home made the return journeys interesting. I still remember the resolve of one of my friend along that path who dug a well for his family with some others as I watched the progress during my journeys alongside his home.

It is crazy to imagine about a road big enough for trucks to get to the top of that daunting hill. There was only a small path, which could barely accommodate two people to walk through it at the same time. Now when I go to my native home in a vehicle, I try to call back the memories of old landscape, as road brought more people to that hill. With lot of houses, now it looks so different. To be fair, road is too steep and raw for vehicles to climb. My first journey through that road was not that memorable as I barely had any senses while sitting beside my dad’s lifeless body on that ambulance. I never thought that I would have to go there after seven long years. Unfortunately, I had to go there again six months later with my grandfather’s body. Well my dream road welcomed me in a rather bizarre way.

Thoughts about that road bring memories of my lonely games with my imaginary friends. I used to build small vehicles using coconut leaves and small coconuts. Well, my wildest wish was to build a bus using wood, but with an engine, so that kids can have fun travelling through the road. I even dreamed that one-day buses or vehicles would be able to transport the believers to the church, which is next to my home. Well my fascination for buses started from there as it was the most seen vehicle in that part during those days. Well, years later, during my industrial training I did fulfill my wish to learn in detail about big buses. I took my passion further forward by designing buses for my cad projects.  It is not a miracle; now a road is there along that old channel which brings water occasionally from the dam for irrigation. I have fond memories of playing in the water in the canal. By throwing small stones on the water and seeing the ripples, I tried to kill my loneliness in my child hood. It was fun to walk through the water to catch some tadpoles and small fishes. Now people are able to visit that church on their vehicles.

How fast things change! That is what I felt about the impact of that road on my life indirectly, though I do not live there anymore. Before the road came, nobody cared about land or land prices there. Tapioca was the major cultivation in that hilly terrain as it just grows with the seasons, without much expense. On the other side of the church, it is beyond recognition now. Rubber trees have taken over the entire space. While scaling down that stretch, I found the newly constructed temple. When I was a kid, there was only a small deity on the riverbank near a big tree. Construction took many years though for whatever reason. Well my connection with that temple is still alive. Somebody told me that my dad’s grand grandfather was once a priest there and now he is one of the deities. I do not believe in myths, but I can seek blessings from heart in private. A myth is there related to the temple. Some of the younger cousins told me that ghosts enter the bodies of young girls who walk along the temple with spreaded hair. I have not seen it, so I have no choice, but to believe them. They said that some of those girls who casually went to the temple that way , once the goddess or ghost enter them, they talked Arabic or they behaved like old women or versing shlokas like women of old era. Then to get rid of those unwanted ghosts, they had to undergo prayer sessions or pujas depending upon their faith. I still remember the late priest who was friendly to me. Back then, the river was shallow and there was no bridge. I used to enjoy collecting pebbles from the riverbed on my return from school. Now the river looks bit deeper, may be due to the sand mining. The paddy fields are still there green and beautiful. Now there is a bridge connecting the chain of roads. I can thank the panchayat for having some kind of vision in building those roads.

Life has changed so much to the point that, though I have fond memories about that hill and people there, I have no love left for that place. Once the road came, the price of the land multiplied and the greed to have the land closer to the road has driven some people crazy. As laws are easier for crooked people to abuse or manipulate, they get their wishes fulfilled so soon. It is mayhem for the real owners to clear the cobwebs of red tapism to prove that it is their own land. I do not want to waste my time or energy to take vengeance as I still believe in law.  By the time, law travel its own course to bring justice, I think I will be long gone. However, I do not have any complaints, as lawmakers do not have time to make laws competent with current era. More over our judiciary is notoriously so slow that it is better to get on with life than wasting decades over silly issues.

Unlike any other thing that I have faced, this will remain in heart for very long time as it happened right after the death of my dad. Still it makes me very angry that no government machinery is able to provide any relief to our rightful cause. It is not a pleasant feeling to chase down land grabber when we are mourning. Well, my feelings for land ended right there. Now I think about the landless people who do not have even an inch of land of their own, let alone to have a shelter to live. Unfortunately, land grabbers live so peacefully without fearing anyone. Real landless people struggle on the streets.

To my amusement, an illegal shop stand tall in our land adjacent to the road makes it very difficult for me to think about travelling through it again. Well, I wish to be peaceful. It is not a trait of weakness. It is hard to control the anger when I look at their eyes, as they love taunting to destabilize me. It is easier to demolish it and trigger a series of counter reactions leading to countless legal battles. That is what they have been expecting and trying hard to induce from us. However, I have grown up now to be able to laugh at their greediness.

Be day or night, I love hills. I love nights filled with stars and moon. However, there was no star or moon visible as I climbed that hill for the first time through that road. To make things worse there was power cut; I could hardly see the road. As I remembered, the scary ghost stories that they told me about that particular riverbank, I was bit scared to walk in absolute darkness.  Well lot of myth is aligned with that riverbank. Many people told me that ghost chased some of their relatives late into the night. Some have seen mysterious people swimming on the river at the midnight and asked them to join for a swimming session. All they did was run away from the scene. Yeah my dad have told me about couple of youngsters who drowned at that bank many years back. Therefore, people may be referring to the ghosts of those youngsters. Interesting thing is that even drunkards believe that they were being chased down by some ferocious figures while walking through that road. Well, I wish not to travel through that road again as I want to move away from that part of the world, leaving behind the memories of my dad right there. I do not want to see his grave, as I prefer to believe that he is always with me in my quest to rise from my terrible fall aftermath his death. The road has changed the lives of people there positively. Now there is quicker access to the necessities. However, I wonder whether that old village charm or innocence exists there. I wish the road to help them to have a better life. 

I wrote this memoir based on the prompt “When I think how life used to be” (a line from song written by Travon Potts and Brock Walsh) to participate in carryontuesdayprompt blog carnival and  pleasantly-disturbed-thursdays-vol-9 blog carnival. Please visit these sites and check others writings as well. Thanks. J