story continued...

The moment I saw the storyline, my evil brain incited me to end with a grin... Profanity was the underlined theme for my continuation of the storyline by smitha, but for the sake of presumably 'good' continuation I strained my brain to write a proper one...

... contd from smitha,

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

He would preserve this ticket. When he would succeed, he would frame and hang it for all to see, as a reminder of the fact that greatness had humble origins, of the day when he set out to seize his destiny. His lips quivered with emotion as he carefully counted the money in his wallet, yet again. Four crisp hundreds and two crumpled fifties. At seventeen, it seemed like a fortune to him. He would carefully plan his expenses. He felt as energetic as the strong breeze that hit his face. He stumbled backward, as the wallet slipped from his hands.

Turag watched it fall, with the fingers of both his hands curled—one gripping the steel bar and the other gripping nothing but air. The wallet settled, the second time it touched the greased stones. It was diminishing in size and moving away from him like an open-mouthed balloon propelled by the gushing air. He knew, well enough, the events that would follow if he pulls the stop-chain. In fact it was a stop-chain that brought a wind of change in his life. Getting off from the thought-train that the stop-chain had evoked, he rushed towards it, with uncurled fingers.

"Don't do that." said a voice from behind him. The command in the voice, more than his curiosity, made him stop and turn around. The first thing he noticed was her eyes which also held the finality her voice seemed to convey. He was still staring deep into the depths of her beautiful eyes when he realized that he had been stopped. He closed his eyes for a second, shook his head to clear out the image -as if wiping the slate clean- and reopened them."I drop my wallet.", he said

Understanding his situation perfectly, she rose to pull the chain.

"Are you alright?" she asked him after the train started again, it was - rita - his cousin's friend. He was surprised that he will reach his destiny so easily and everything would be fine. But not before long he stopped gaping at his fortune the fate had its own game to play.

There was a heavy thud, and the compartment rolled upside down. Kid in one hand, rita struggled to remain fixed, but the latch holding her seat broke off.

Slowly rising from beneath the mound of debris, he searched for her, but it was too late. Tears flowing, he could feel blood rushing within himself. Silence prevailed. Out in the corner, there was a squeak, he turned around and saw the kid left stranded atop the pile of metal wreckage. He took her in his arms and started to walk. Towards life, towards hope, towards destiny...

this should be continued by moosh, boopa, smaraa, paramanand

But how come I ignore my initial thoughts and my evil grin on this storyline. The moment I looked at it, only one thought came to my mind, that is....

read it fully again, to have fun...

... contd from smitha,

He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

He would preserve this ticket. When he would succeed, he would frame and hang it for all to see, as a reminder of the fact that greatness had humble origins, of the day when he set out to seize his destiny. His lips quivered with emotion as he carefully counted the money in his wallet, yet again. Four crisp hundreds and two crumpled fifties. At seventeen, it seemed like a fortune to him. He would carefully plan his expenses. He felt as energetic as the strong breeze that hit his face. He stumbled backward, as the wallet slipped from his hands.

Turag watched it fall, with the fingers of both his hands curled—one gripping the steel bar and the other gripping nothing but air. The wallet settled, the second time it touched the greased stones. It was diminishing in size and moving away from him like an open-mouthed balloon propelled by the gushing air. He knew, well enough, the events that would follow if he pulls the stop-chain. In fact it was a stop-chain that brought a wind of change in his life. Getting off from the thought-train that the stop-chain had evoked, he rushed towards it, with uncurled fingers.

"Don't do that." said a voice from behind him. The command in the voice, more than his curiosity, made him stop and turn around. The first thing he noticed was her eyes which also held the finality her voice seemed to convey. He was still staring deep into the depths of her beautiful eyes when he realized that he had been stopped. He closed his eyes for a second, shook his head to clear out the image -as if wiping the slate clean- and reopened them.

"I drop my wallet.", he said

Thud, Thud.

"Come off you moron, I am on tip of the hell" he woke up to the door banging outside. He realized he slept in the toilet. Eyes were heavy, head started to ache again, he slowly dressed himself, flushed and off he go.

But the thoughts kept ringing at the back of his head, "was I dreaming". The dream that kept him sleepless for several days. He had his wallet intact, and, holy god, he never had any cousin, thats Ok, but his grandfather died before he was born. What the hell was the dream about?

Then he remembered about the doctor. His fear rose like mercury in thermometer, inner self had sudden quiver, blood gushing, heart pumping like a engine piston of a heavy truck at high speed.

As scornful as a descendant of English royal-blood towards the hard-core tribe of nigeria, the doctor gave him money to buy medicine for his constipation. "You will fart in the city, if you are penniless" doctor shouted, exactly like his grandfather.

Also he remembered when he was rushing to finish off his unfinished business, this watchman, who was standing under a big board "PUBLIC TOILET", blurted out excitedly "Watch kid, I'll get you a WC at the central site".

Then he entered. Started with the heavenly whistle, this 34-minute journey proved both of them right.

"But what about the wallet I dropped"

"Holy ****"

to be continued by sunnath, smitha again, thaatha


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