UnAltered Anecdotes
By Kamlesh Mishra and Syed Faiz Ibrahim
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About this ebook
A pack of 30 amazing stories with different flavours of themes. This book is a collaboration work of 30 different amateur authors from different regions. Conceptualized by the team of Heart's Database and Writer Paradise.
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UnAltered Anecdotes - Kamlesh Mishra
I can die for You
~ Ritik Juneja
After I had been done with the last courage fight from my side, I was able to convince my parents for writing and to allow me for it. I was the most blissful person on the Earth. Although I was not like five-star writers with skills, my stories and thoughts were second to none. I commenced writing round the clock to make my dreams come true, to reach the limits of the sky but piece by piece my castle was fading away.
I didn’t know the reason for such comportment by God or maybe I was not good enough for such industry. I always did my best to improve, wrote several times, sent multiple times to the zillion publishers, my manuscript, which I finally made ready with all I could do, but I was always getting a big ‘No’ by every publishing authority. It was more cut down inside and made me helpless.
Just like me, a good friend of mine, Rahul also wrote.He started writing because he liked what I did write.He was inspired by me and I didn’t know what I have done so well for which he was impressed. We were not as like
––––––––
‘I can die for you’ friends but yes, our friendship was good enough. His conditions were similar as of mine.
He had also written a script but never got any response from any of the publishers. We both were waiting for the honk. Getting no response along with ageing, the responsibility to earn was on the rise.
I was irrevocably convinced to prepare for a job, the government job, the job which I never wanted to go for. Ya, look at that, at such young age you are being molded for laziness, to get easy income and to live life safely until your death and in the end, you get finished. I have never wished this in my life. Also, my contact with Rahul was like a blue moon. I was altogether busy in the preparations of SSC but he was still busy with his own writings. At least, a good writer was still doing his good work. I was happy. I joined the classes for SSC.
While I was doing the work at home once, I logged into emails after a long period of time since I left writing. They were thousands in number, and it was none other than of Doctors, hair transplants, credit cards and all shit like that. I didn’t know why such people were wasting their time. They should do some preparations for me, for a beautiful Government job.
––––––––
I checked out further, the mails. On number eleven, the mail was written from one of the unknown, named Ankush Verma with the subject of Congratulations. I knew it was another clickbait of which I knew the surprise. I was going to get a loan approval to which I had never applied .I opened the mail..
It spoke aloud–
Dear Mr. Rohit,
We are pleased to inform you that your manuscript has been approved by our publishing team and would like to publish the same by the name you have suggested. We would like you to contact us at this number –99XXXXXXXXX ASAP.
My eyes were torn to four. I was cemented by mail although my legs were shivering. I was getting out of control. I got a mail to get my manuscript published. I burst aloud, called my parents to apprise them. They too were very happy even though they didn’t like me to do it. But their only wish was to see me get the success, no matter from wherever it comes from. I called Rahul. He was happy too.I went to meet him and discussed the whole stuff with him. We celebrated the moment with a Coke can and lived the time. After which, I went back home to call on the mentioned number.
I logged in again,and I saw nothing on the screen naming Ankush. The mail was not there.
It was not there at all. I searched out every trash box, every mail, every part of my account, but the mail was not there. I didn’t remembered the number. All I was having was the bare hand. I was not able to find any number, any contact from which I received the mail. I was not knowing who mailed it.
It was all ruined up.
My mood got off. It was a big opportunity for me to get a life. But it came like, a big hammer punched my face. Everyone was giving sympathy for what just happened to me. I was really helpless this time. At the end, after hours and hours of weeping, I accepted it as part of my fate. I couldn’t do anything. I got busy back in my work, the work for SSC.
Two months passed away in preparations for two years, I was going to meet back Rahul at the Central Park. I saw him on the other side of the road. We waved the hands. He forwarded his steps to come to this side when I saw a big van coming closer to him and the van eventually hit him. He was floated in the air and the van’s bumper threw him on the divider. Everyone was bursting and running to him. The Van driver ran off.
I went to him immediately. His body was wrapped in blood all over. I was getting mad what to do. I called the ambulance instantly, and people all around helped to save his life. I picked up his phone to call his Dad. As I opened his phone, I saw two lines written in the pending mail. It read,
I’m very sorry Rohit. It was me who deleted your mail. I’m really sorry. I was so jealous of your book approval. I’m...
.
My eyes were filled with tears. I was crying deep inside. I didn’t know what to say to that unconscious person. I just took him to the hospital, and he was finally saved by the doctors. I went to his room. He was feeling ashamed of what he did. He tried to speak the same from the very first word. I shut his mouth off and just hugged him tight. He didn’t utter a word, but I uttered the forgiveness.
We hugged again and now we could say we were, ‘I can die for you’ friends.
*******
The Resonating Slap
~ Krishna Poddar
Like every day, he woke up 10 minutes late. The alarm on his cell phone kept buzzing, and he snoozed it again. For him, mornings were a race against time. From fighting sleep to cursing his bad cooking skills to missing the bus by just 5 minutes, he managed to start his 9 to 5 job.
The queue for the bus was long, the heat made him feel a little uncomfortable. Twice the time, he adjusted his tie and thrice a time, looked at his watch to catch the time that denied to co-operate with his fear of being late in office thrice in a row.
Exactly 10 minutes later, the bus arrived .And in all his efforts to step in, he managed to find as much space sufficient enough to have him standing on his two feet. The bus had hardly travelled few kilometers, then the driver took a steep turn and he happened to fall on a semi-aged woman. It was totally an unintentional act for him. The woman gave him a stern look as if he has committed a crime. He had a gentle-men gesture .
––––––––
Despite being at fault, he took the initiative to ask the woman to pardon him but she did not respond.
He continued to enjoy his savanna music. But the woman was supposedly not content with this. Out of nothing, she pushed him back and demanded the bus to stop.
Why, what happened Ma'am?,
asked the conductor.
I want the bus to be stopped now!
exclaimed the arrogant woman.
But why Ma'am??,
the conductor enquired.
This man is lustful and is trying to hit on me,
yelled the woman.
The boy refused to do and rightly said that it was just an accident and he had no intention to touch a woman who is as old as his mother.
And then a sound!!!
Wait for what?
That lady slapped the boy and justified herself saying,
I am a feminist leader.
The boy revolted saying he was not at fault and in no way she justified her actions. But the woman was in no intention to sort the matter. She forced the driver to stop the bus. She stepped down, people from all around crowded and sympathized with her. They all addressed that the boy was shameless and humiliated him badly.
Some blamed his parents for his bad behavior.
Some called him a shame to society.
and some regarded him as a Trash!!
All this left him to walk back home. The sight of humiliation and guilt of doing nothing yet being slammed had a disastrous effect. He was convinced that he was useless and no less than a burden to his parents. He feared about his poor parents coming to know about