He is standing at the edge of boat looking at the sea. His black eyes shinning looking beyond the horizon. How i wish I had known before, of how I felt about him and not rejected him. How i wish, he hadn't found another girl. Its fate he moved on and I am here now, helping him to get married to his love..
"Dont go Sujoy? They are Muslims. Even in this dire situation they won't spare you."
"I don't care Ma. I need to help. Families are stuck in there"
"You have never been in a boat; forget rowing it."
"Even the boat has never sailed on the roads Ma."
Saying this Sujoy started rowing away from home. To help. Floods knew no religion. Nor does humanity.
Rains poured in as some salty drops too fell down unnoticed..
I always ride on your waves, with my small ship, holding guiding pole, making my way through your waters. Taking passengers along your course, mooring at Ghats on your banks, Just to make sure my family will get to bed with calm and filled appetite.
It's you who brings the smile on my face, when I see my kids sleeping with smile on their small faces. The joy in my small hut.
And I can just give you my prayers and my efforts to keep you clean. Though a small step, it's just my way to show gratitude..
â€˜Can I try the row?, the man asked.
The boatman nodded in negative.
He said; â€˜Itâ€™s as simple as moving the knife on your loverâ€™s throatâ€¦ !!â€™
A frightening silence engulfed the boat.
â€˜Donâ€™t be afraid of meâ€¦â€™
He took out the bloodstained knife and washed it in the river.
â€˜Everything will be alrightâ€¦ we are going to the Dargaâ€¦ pray !!â€™
â€˜It all started there and will end there onlyâ€™, he whispered.
Thick dark blood oozed from the edge.
A curve of smile appeared on his face.
â€˜Pray for me...â€™
And he jumped into the river.
It had been a long and unforgiving summer.
The water level in the pond had begun to lower and this put Shankar's livelihood at risk.
It was early in the morning on a Monday that he first spotted a heavy shroud of grey arriving from the west.
He set sail and stood proud with his net ready. As the oar slapped away the water and he went deeper into the water, he could not help but smile to himself..
The whole aerodrome was agog with activity, after all a batch of students were going to test a hot air balloon, under the supervision of a senior student.
"Kaboom"; a sound reverberated through the air, there it was a charred burnt up mess on the tarmac.
A part of the fabric which escaped the fire was stocked up, finding it's use as a trampoline cloth later, during his apprenticeship.
It's loose ends were strong enough to tie down an aircraft.
He looked forward to ferrying passengers daily on the river. One late night he took a pretty young lady to the famous film directors cottage by the river side
It became a daily to and fro journey and even though he knew she was of different pedigree, he enjoyed the twosome silent journey through the waters.
A month later she stopped and he never saw her again.
Then he saw a news report of a body found floating on the river.
He reached the spot and saw her lifeless.
Now the river became more precious to him, for he saw her reflection..
He felt heâ€™d been travelling. Couldnâ€™t be sure. His memory was as misty as the dawn in that jungle. It looked like an inland waterway among the marshland: all those doomed trees.
The radio in the boat cracked, â€œThis is Sunderban coastal police. We received an SOS. Are there any survivors? We are sending a rescue boat. Please confirm your location. Is the animal still on the boat?â€
He looked back at the mangled dead bodies. He looked at his bloody hands. Shocked, he fell back and crawled up to a corner.
The boat drifted towards the muddy shore.
Standing on the bow I was wandering how long it would take me to reach the other side of the shore? cloudy and crazy weather was on my head,the sky turned its color into shady black,it was about to get dark.I was all alone on that boat,the high tides with its sound started echoing in my ears,the wind was blowing so hard that it almost made my boat unsteady.I got panic! I closed my eyes holding the bamboo bar and shouted "Hey Allah! I am LOST, may my soul rest in peace." .
Ram knew problems in his journey but even that couldn't stop him going ahead. He was firm to explore the world all alone through sea.
"I want to tell adventure stories to my grandchildren",Ram explained his motive clearly i.e. ADVENTURE. Stood firm holding wooden support on his boat, ready to explore the world all alone. The wooden support was resemblance to parent's blessing, his only big support for this big challenge.
We are the sailor of our own life and obstacles in our path are actually wind blow to guide us to sail in right direction (even in hardships)..
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She was like a sad love song.
It would be foolish to try and understand her.
She would come, not with his kid but he was happy to claim him.
As usual, she was late. .
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I have sailed for long
I have sailed strong
I have sailed days and I have sailed nights
I have sailed till there were no lights
I ferry people and their secrets
I also carry the stench of burnt cigarettes
I have now found my answer
Stop sailing and find an anchor
My father's dream of me owning a houseboat came true due to my hard work and perseverance. my business was going great guns because tourists liked my houseboat and the other boats in the vicinity felt that i was eating into their business. Our own association decided that i have to leave this bay and find another bay where same kind of boats operated.So today with the heavy heart i am leaving my native place, where my father dreamed for me and i fullfilled his dream only to be betrayed by my own people..
Along the coast of Mumbai Shehzad was watching the sunset. He knew it was probably the last sunset he was ever going to see. Anxiety,Fear and Restlessness was empowering his body.He knew there was no turning back, not from this point at least. All his teachings,learning and experiences had come down to this. After the sunset he closed his eyes and whispered his prayer. Everybody was silent, nobody spoke much. Next morning the Newspaper read "Atleast 100 dead in Mumbai Terror Attacks. 8 Terrorists Killed.".
Shyam is also one of the robots of Human Race who started his day by 4 o'clock in the morning and left home to earn some money.Travelling from small village to Mumbai city in his late father's traditional fishing boat.
Long hours of work in heat is a story of every person in this race. Returning home after a week ; standing in his boat with calmness and a relief of earning some money to freely live life with his wife and children for a day in his happy small world and forget about the endless race..
He had kept this inside him for a long time. The sea was the place he ran to when the madness of this world became too much.
He thought it was enough. He was already frozen by a thousand seas inside his chest. He even told his demons about it and so it was time for others to know.
He saw his words etched in those dark clouds, â€œAppa, I donâ€™t want to be a coding wizard. Let me sail the unseen horizons with my words. Let me be a writer.â€
He signed the NOC and couldn't wait for his discoveries. They wanted answers of what the only tribe in the country was sustaining with. As his boat approached the island, wire didn't work, the camera turned obsolete, smartphone exhausted itself magically and no back up helped. A few days later he woke up where he met the rest of the missing. An island close enough to theirs. All these alive, there's hope. Escaping now would mean death. They fortified interests. All they wanted was to be left alone. And why was that so hard for us?.
â€œAbandon all hope, ye who enter here.â€, Virgil crooned, as they rowed the dodgy boat into the Purgatorio bay of Hell.
â€œPray, why must we?â€
â€œThe Dead are less dead than the living, Dante. Inside the nine parallel systems of Hell, each more terrifying than the other, the souls are woken to the reality they consciously chose, when they were alive.â€
â€œBut, if you havenâ€™t lived, you arenâ€™t all-knowing to pass judgments. If you have, you arenâ€™t innocent enough to judge.â€
â€œThe Gods endure their suffering with them, hence. Vicarious liability is unforgiving like that.â€, Virgil sighed.
The river told me this story.
The village elders had repeatedly warned her against falling in love with the outsider. But she was stubborn the way beautiful girls are. She badgered him to elope. He gave in reluctantly and arranged for the boat that would ferry them across the wide river. On the full moon night, the boatmanâ€™s greed turned into lust. He clubbed the man and ravished the girl.
The river looked at me beseechingly. My hand was steady as the knife dug into the boatmanâ€™s chest. As the water turned red, I woke up.
Soon as we reached, we were welcomed by the shining sun, chirping birds, the beautiful beach and a feeling of peace. It was that time of the year, we all were out of our comfort. The beauty of nature with the company of beautiful people around! Then the mesmerising moment when the sun was about to set, adding a golden texture to the water, the clear sky: painted with colours. With the following night, laying down on the grass gazing at stars with complementing moon adding to the beauty of the sky: the first day of our camp..
No one knows from the village that this young lad will ever return or not. He is going to sail to the territorial waters of the country. It is said that 9 out of 10 die deep fishing & exploring there.This man wants to make big and is ready to take risk. Hope he survives. Some of us feel that he has a lot of potential but he does not want to continue studies. He lost his family the last season in the tropical storm and now he just wants to tame the waves to take his revenge.
For weeks, he went away on his work missions, as he called them. So when he went missing nobody gave it a second thought.
It wasn't until his body had washed up the shore did the police decide to step in. Investigations revealed he was tracking the mafia kingpin. His cloud backup had just one image file. The profile of the don hereto unknown, was now a blurred image.
Somewhere, sometime, as he looked down, "Damned autofocus!", he cursed to himself. .
Morris had dutifully called the number on the tag, but there was no answer. He had left behind a voice note, but so far there was no reply. With nothing more left to do, he flipped through the gallery. At first the images seemed random, but as he browsed further, he felt a profile was being built, it was like someone was being tracked. The last one pictured a profile, maybe it was the suspect.
"What do you think?" a voice came from behind.
He almost froze as he turned to face the suspect.
"My trigger-series!", the ex-suspect added..