A Little Story – 2

This is in continuation with the Part 1. If you may like, you can read it.

Thank You.

Room number 29, the already too tired receptionist told them. My Aunts had managed to prepare some Besan Laddoos, both my parents were too fond of. They had carefully wrapped it in their shawl and the little blankets they had brought along with them. My Uncle adjusted his glasses, there, there it is.

My Uncle was a rugged man. He had long moustaches that sit on his fair face, making him a man of admiration. But he had a beauty far greater than his face could ever show. He was the eldest of all the brothers and sisters in the family and was more of a father to them than their elder brother. He grew up faster than his age. There were too many mouths to feed. Although my grandfather never said anything to him or to anybody about the high toll of work that was falling on him to keep the stomachs and aspirations of everyone full, my uncle thought he should do something to ease him. He had learnt a thing or two about selling things when he would visit his friend who had a flourishing business that ran in their family. He was inquisitive right from the day he could sense and would take interest in anything new that fell upon him. He had quickly made friends with his friend’s father who inspired him a lot. While kids of his age were buying things, he was busy selling them. With every passing day, he honed his skills to perfection, so much that Alok Ji his friend’s father called him a day when he was going back home.
Son”, he said ” I have been noticing you selling those colored stones after school. You are pretty good at it.” 
Yes Sir”,  my uncle said. ” I love selling things. They make me feel someone important. I provide whatever the time demands.” 
“Time? “ Alok ji’s curiosity was now centered around him.
” Sir, at the school, we have our geography lesson. There they teach about the various types of rocks that are found in our city. So I sell rocks when they teach about them. When it is too hot, I buy milk from the vendor next to the school. In it I add sugar which is cheap and also bright colors. The days when I am free I sell them for Rs 5 per pint. And when I am not free, I take the boy who comes to my house for cleaning and make him sell it. He doesn’t take money from me. I give him two or three pints of the sweet milk. Sir with this business I have managed to collect Rs 500 in a week.”
Alok ji was silent on hearing this. He asked, “Would you be interested in doing this at a bigger scale?” 
My uncle was calm, a reaction  unexpected of a boy of his age. He said, “when do we start?” 
He had found what he had to do. School never seemed something that would hold a person like him.
Education is like a drop of color in water. It doesn’t depend what the source was. It colors you anyway.
There was retaliation by my grandparents at first. He was locked in the room, beaten hard, given many things to just keep him away from this idea of his. But nothing worked. He sat down one day with my grandfather while he was on his chair reading the newspaper.
“Papaji”, he said. My grandfather has a habit, if he doesn’t want to talk, he won’t say, but he would always listen.
“Selling things excites me to my very core. Everyday I wake up to devise new ways just to improve myself. I have worked so much on myself Papaji that if this goes in waste, then I would be of no use to you.” he finished and sat near his foot.
My grandfather stood up, went to his study and brought along with him a box that he used to keep his collection of his favourite songs. “I give you this box. You have a month. This box should be full by the end of this month or else you will do as I say.”
Then there was no turning back. My Uncle gave all his time and energy to setting up his work. He had realised while working with Alok ji that he needed to be his own boss, which Alok ji accepted with a smile. He helped him set up a business of his own. He worked day and night. His hard work paid off when he was able to buy a furniture manufacturing factory just outside the city.
Grandfather had cut the ribbon on the day of its inauguration. He had the widest smile that day, his chest had expanded by few inches.
All of them moved towards the room. They were silent now and slowly moving so as to cause as little noise as possible. My uncle reached the door and knocked. They went inside with the biggest smile on their face. Congratulations Suresh. You are now a father! They said and the whole family hugged each other. I laid in my mother’s arm and was asleep. My father took me from my mother’s arm and handed me to my Uncle. He was silent, didn’t speak a word.
He looked at me for sometime and then said, “We will call her Mudrika.” 
I was so filled with gratitude with the response I got on the first part. This is my try to write the next part. I hope all of you like this small piece of work. This type of writing is new to me and I am doing this for the first time.
Please do comment on how this part was, it will be my inspiration to write the next part.
Thank You!
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54 thoughts on “A Little Story – 2

  1. Words are the invisible hands of the heart. They can reach places we are not able to reach. In great depth as the sea your work is very wonderfully detailed. In greats heights as the mountain your work is full of excitement. Making the reader eager to read more and anticipating the next piece. You have a gift for captivating your reader keeping them interested in what you’ve written. Like a tasteful meal your work is presented beautifully you truly have a blessed soul that was blessed with the gift of writing stories. Perfection is this piece of art work Smiling Harsh may the pen of your soul keep writing with the incredible ink of purity. I love it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Morgan, everything you have said to me everyday makes me smile. But this was something outworldly. I cannot tell you how much this means to me Morgan. You have been reading all my work and effortlessly commenting on every thing I put up. Your constant encouragement has kept me going for long. Everyday I post, your comment is something that makes it Complete.
      Thank you so much Morgan.
      You make me believe myself. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Harsh that is wonderful you believe in yourself. Never doubt you or your talent. I love your work and the way you write. I am sure you notice by now that I love to encourage people to use their full potential and talent. I love to make people feel good It is just how I am as a person. No need to thank me everything I said is all true. I am happy I make you smile your positive spirit pours into your writing. Making them even more pure and sweet. They always give me a smile it is pleasure to read your work. You are a very remarkable writer always remember that.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You’re very welcome Smiling Harsh I hope you don’t mind me calling you so. I always give people a nickname. You’re so positive so smiling Harsh fits you. How are you?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. That’s good. I am alright my eyes are still the same. I can’t see on my own I have to have these contacts in to see. My fear is that I will never be able to see on my own.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. No, it will take a long time to correct my eyes. I am partially blind without these contacts I can’t see anything. I just wish I could see on my own. I don’t want to be blind I don’t want to have to depend on these contacts. I try to stay positive but it hard and scary. I write encouraging things to uplift myself spirit and others. Because I am having a hard time. But I hope in time my sight gets better and not worse. I sometimes wish I was someone else a better person. I wish i was Someone who doesn’t have scoliosis and who isn’t partially blind.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. You are the most perfect person Morgan. It’s so easy for anyone to lose hope in grad times such as yours. But you are so strong. Morgan. Everything will be alright. And this is just the human body. You have such a beautiful mind.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Thank you that means a lot. But, it is so hard I just want to see what the world looks like with mine own eyes. I want to be better i am tired of not being to see on my own. It hurts inside and I feel alone because it is no one’s fault neither can anyone help me.

        Liked by 1 person

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