Every heart present on the roof was pounding! Then a voice begged, “Please come home!  We are very sorry!  We promise never ever to trouble you again! Do come back! We cannot live without you please!!”  Then there was sound of sniveling.  Pin drop silence ensued.  

The couple, who had bolted to the roof, looked at one another in wonder!  Confronting them in their hideaway’s roof were their two sons and their bosom buddies.  Tired by their punk son’s foolish pranks and bad school reports, they had finally called it quits to parenting and had bolted from the house!

The role reversal shocked the kids.  Stuck with fending for themselves alone in their home, they realized their stupidity.  Chastened, they shaped up and started searching for their parents.  Finally they retrieved an old voicemail from the phone log and found them. 

After lots of begging and with their friends as witness to their solemn promise to behave and study in future, the parents relented and returned home.  All was well in their home sweet home finally.

Shock tactics struck pay dirt in more ways than one!

note:based on an old hollywood flick:)  

Last Sunday whilst watching baseball the TV ad had grabbed me. “Mega Millions jackpot is now 135 million dollars!! MY mouth salivated and I scrambled to buy yet another ticket!! One hundred thirty five million could see me through many years and wild dreams. I wanted to win badly.

Everyone had left. I too forced myself to weave my way home. Ten lottery tickets burnt a hole in my pocket heated by raging frustrated fires. Suddenly my boozy weaving feet hit a can and I toppled over a warm body!! My bleary eyes saw me
astride a sexy siren with red hair and huge emerald chip eyes. She was drunk as a skunk. Her tiny purse had regurgitated on the street a lipstick, gold pocket comb, car keys, green filled wallet and

Next morning with morning coffee I compared the lottery results. Bust. I emptied my pockets and remembered the lady’s purse. Just to ensure I did not dream her, I put my hand in my coat pocket. No purse but I found another lottery ticket. I brought that to the table and checked the numbers!! My heart stopped- this ticket had hit the jackpot!
I was swimming in someone else’s green beans!

She came into her own after many a blood shed.  The quiet streets became her stomping grounds.  Anyone vunerable she found,  she overcame, cannibalized. Slowly her tentacles spread everywhere.  Her victims felt like death warmed up.   

The hush could be sliced with a knife!  Everyone watched with bated breath.  After extensive testing a lethal injection had been prepared with no side effects.  Specialists had gathered to watch.   

“My rule is over”. 

Headlines blared.  Medical breakthrough.  Aids vaccine found.

The Pick Up

 She sat twirling a margarita at the bar!   She licked salt off the rim and wished she could lick the salt off her wounds as well.  His harsh words had cut grievously and she cringed within. Five years of togetherness, a washout.

His tap on shoulder took her by surprise.  She looked into stranger’s deep mesmerizing eyes and fell headlong.  They left in his well appointed black sedan.

After a night of intense love making they fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke up, she found herself in a castle lying next to a coffin.

Mirror showed elongated incisors in her mouth and pierce marks on neck, she fainted.

**  **

picture from the internet! 

© binagupta., all rights reserved.

The limo gobbled up the miles and soon the town spires were visible.

They wished to reach home before nightfall. 

At the final hairpin curve before the mansion gate, the unexpected happened!  A frightened doe stood in their path. 

The limo driver instinctively swerved to avoid the doe and crashed into the mansion’s outer wall, bursting into flames.  The staff that was on their heels quickly dragged the star and driver to safety.  It was almost midnight.

 At stroke of midnight, a bloodcurdling howl was heard from within the mansion.  A werewolf’s silhouette was visible in the bay window.

City Slickers

Four adventure bitten city slickers boarded a sightseeing chopper to get a closer view of the Grand Canyon.

Newly minted pilot came too close to the craggy rocks and crashed the chopper.

The four hauled themselves off precarious treetop overhanging and descended on an outcrop ledge passing out.

When they came to, they found themselves in a parallel world, a millennium ahead.  The resident robots tended, mended and tested these human dinosaurs. Then put them to sleep.

The four woke up on top of the Grand Canyon with Park Rangers hovering solicitously.

They felt themselves and found nary a scratch.  All four missed the  minute chips implanted in their brains.

picture are from the internet

have been to Grand Canyon five times in all and it is fascinating!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/victors-dream-part-one-1108.htm

 
Amu was very upset.  Her beloved son Victor had lost his mind!  “It was that cursed lottery!  How I wish Vic had not accepted that free ticket from Sen Dada.  How am I going to manage the house all by myself now?”  Her heart sank.  Then she decided that the only way to make her son well was to get rid of the prize money.  In her eyes her son’s life and sanity was priceless.
 
Sen Dada was fuming.   For the umpteenth time he kicked himself for giving away the lucky ticket.  Then he decided that as Vicky had lost his mind, he could con Amu into splitting the fifty lakhs saying it was supposed to be equal shares as a shoe polish did not cost twenty rupees.  Once he had brainwashed himself that he was justified in duping Amu, he hastily bought a box of (sweet ricotta cheese balls) “rosgullas” for the family and quickly left for Victor’s house.

Amu hurriedly pulled out the offending fifty lakhs from under the bed and tied them up in red tablecloth which she had newly sewed from cloth remnants.  The money was wrapped in old newspaper and was now a snug square package in red.  After a quick bath, she left for Kalibari(temple) leaving Victor in the care of the younger brothers.

Sen Dada reached the house and with a great flourish gifted the sweets to the boys.  Then he asked about Amu’s whereabouts.  Upon finding out that she had left for the Kalibari, he ran out after her.  He needed to catch her before she entered the temple.  The chase was on.
It was morning “puja” (prayer) time and the temple was full.  Amu quietly waited in line patiently pleading all the time to the Goddess to take the money and return her son’s sanity.  She reached the priest and bowed low to receive blessing.  The crowd suddenly surged and Amu tripped and fell inside the inner sanctorum and the red packet fell at the feet of the Goddess.  Amu straightened up and quietly left chanting Goddess mantras.  The package lay unnoticed as it was inadvertently pushed behind the deity by the priest whilst performing rituals.

The local doctor had given a sedative to calm Victor and he was lying in deep sleep.  Yogi and Jay the younger brothers had secured jobs in different banks as trainees and their lot had already changed for the better.  Their hard work had paid off. 
 
 
The sun was shining brightly and Victor got up and stretched.  Suddenly he looked at the clock and jumped up shouting Amu!
He was behaving normally and was hurrying with morning ablutions and chores so that he could open his shop on time. Amu was delighted!  Goddess Kali had heeded her prayers and given back her old son.
 

Next morning the priest did the abhishekham (bath) of the Goddess with his usual fanfare and rituals.  Lots of water mixed with Gangajal (sacred river Ganges water) and milk etc. were poured over the deity and then the Goddess was anointed with red sindoor(color) and sandal paste and dressed in gold jewelry and silk sari.  The Goddess was ready for morning “darshan” viewing.
The red bundle of money got a thorough soaking and the money became useless pulp.
Man proposes God disposes

Baba was a cobbler and polished shoes also.  In his skilled hands even old worn out shoes got a new lease in life.    His mom sewed and repaired for the neighborhood on an ancient machine which was diligently oiled and kept fit.  The three children attended the local school as their baba wanted them to find another profession as cobblers had meager earnings.

Shomu always considered himself a winner and often wished he could change his name to Victor.  He was very fond of this word which he had learnt in his English class.  Slowly the family started calling him Vicky to please him and the old name Shomu was forgotten.

After school, Vicky would run home and help his brothers with homework and his beloved amu with household chores before joining his baba.  He relished polishing shoes and make them shine.  Baba would indulge him but only after ensuring that he had finished his school homework.  Vicky would whistle happily and shine shoes to his heart’s content.  He always got a bit more in tips than his baba.  It was mainly his happy face and cheerful manner that pleased their clientele. 

Vicky had just turned sixteen when he was forced to run his baba’s shoe repair business alone as they’d lost him tragically when a bus with failed brakes mowed him down along with others in its path.  After a lot of hue and cry the bus owners had given each victim’s family a large sum of money.  Vicky’s amu had quickly banked the money for her sons’ higher education and in case there was an emergency.  Vicky joined night school so that he could work in morning to help amu manage the house.  He also ensured that his brothers studied hard and did not get into bad company.

Sen Dada was a regular customer of his baba and now Victor’s. He was in the lottery business.  Each month he’d jested with baba that he should buy a lottery ticket as he’d surely win.  Sen Dada always told baba he was a lucky man indeed with three obedient sons and a hard working bahu (wife).  Baba had remained impassive and always refused
to buy a lottery ticket that cost Rupees twenty.  Now again, Sen Dada tried to sell the lottery ticket.  But Victor stuck to his guns and shook his head and continued shining the shoes.  The shoes literally glistened and Sen Dada could see his face in them.  He was delighted and decided to gift a lottery ticket instead of paying for his shoeshine.  Victor in a weak moment accepted the ticket, breaking his baba’s rule.  He apologized to baba in his heart.

On his way home, Victor stopped at the nearby Durgabaari

and placed the ticket in front of Kali Ma asking for her blessing.  He also told Kali Ma that as far back as he could recall he had always felt like a winner and maybe this ticket would get his family out of poverty and a better way of life.  Then he sped home.

The lottery was a bumper one and the prize money was a whopping fifty lakh rupees.  Every Calcuttan who could afford twenty bucks had bought a ticket.  The momentum had built up and the excitement was palpable and could be cut with a knife.  The madness and razor edge excitement was akin to the one when India played cricket with their arch enemies Pakistan.  Next morning was the drawing day. 

Sen Dada always kept ten tickets for himself.  Now he held nine as the tenth one he had gifted to Victor. 

The numbers were announced and everyone rushed to buy the evening paper as it carried the results in print.  Victor had been so busy whole day long that he had completely forgotten about the ticket.    Suddenly he heard sounds of drum beats approaching as a group of ten of so of his friends and family approached with Sen Dada leading them.

Dada came near and embraced him like a son.  He said, “Victor, you are indeed a Victor.  Your ticket has won the prize money.”  Victor’s mouth fell open.  Then pure joy coursed through his veins making him giddy with happiness.  He pulled the ticket out of his pocket and it matched the numbers in the evening paper.  Suddenly Victor uttered the words, “Where should I keep it, what should I do?  Where should I keep it, what should I do?”  He kept muttering these sentences over and over again.  Victor had lost his mind after his victory!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/vicors-dream-part-two-1106.htm

all pictures are from the internet disclaimer

Little Bobby loved to venture now that he could crawl.  His mom Raji was usually at her wit’s end turning pots n pans, closets, nooks and crannies for him.  Finally she’d extricate him with cobwebs hanging on curly locks and dust smearing his cherubic face.  His endearing smile melted her anger and she hugged him to her bosom, thankful that he was safe.

Bobby

“Mom is really busy today and now that my tummy is full, I can go and seek new adventure.”  His tiny anklets tinkling, the baby made a beeline for his favorite haunt, that secret room with big brass inlaid doorway and old fashioned chain and lock where happily he gurgled and cooed as though playing with someone.  Luckily the door had been unlocked for mopping and dusting.

“Today I am going to explore that dark corner which has some really interesting jars and pots.  Even though I like that silver baby in the swing a lot but if I can crawl into the rocking chair, then I can have a better look.  Let’s see if I am able to climb on.” 

Pre-Partition of India and Pakistan

Chowdhary Ratan Singh was greatly respected in his town in West Punjab, now in Pakistan.  His family owned a flourishing business in dry fruits.  His brothers and their families also lived in the rambling mansion.  Ratan had one son and two daughters.  He got his girls settled early and was on the lookout for a suitable bride for his son Rajratan(Raj).  Around that time there was a problem in the dry fruit supply from Kabul and he sent Raj to investigate.  Raj went to meet their main supplier Aftab Khan who invited him for dinner.  There he met Khan’s daughter Kesar and fell head over heels in love with her.  Kesar felt the same pull.  She knew her father was ready to marry her off to her awful cousin Kaif who was a mean person and hence knowing their families would never agree, they bolted to Delhi.

Kesar’s mother was in the know and not only approved but had given whatever money she could lay her hands on and jewelry.  She even sent a maid to help them.  Both the fathers were angry and washed their hands off them and forbid everyone from even uttering their names.  Ratan cursed his first born but on his deathbed forgave his son and wished they had patched up. 
Rajratan Singh and Kesar were hardworking and after selling their jewelry and diamond ear-rings they were able to have enough seed money to start they own dry fruit business in Delhi.  Both knew the supply sources and through a trusted hand were able to build up their business from scratch.  Here in Delhi festivals and marriages took place all the time hence dry fruits were always in demand.  They had chosen well.  The couple missed their old homes.  They constructed their new home incorporating the beauty of both ancestral homes.  The doors had brass inlaid work and the windows and latticed balconies had intricate colored glass designs to keep the harsh summer sun out.  Cross ventilation kept their home cool.  They were happy except for the one recurring pain in their bosom for their kith n kin whom they missed dreadfully.    Raj and Kesar each had worn cameos of their parents around their neck and hence got paintings done of their elders and it occupied a place of honor in their diwan khana (drawing room).  The kids would get to know their grand parents in this manner only.

Time sped and Raj and Kesar’s two sons decided to study abroad where they subsequently married and settled down never to return. The parents  grieved for their sons realizing how their own parents must’ve felt.  They reconciled and now took one day a time.      

There was a lot of unrest against the British rule.  Some firebrand Hindus decided to bomb the local prison and set free their leaders.  Raj and Kesar were in the bazaar when the bomb misfired and were killed instantly.  Their horse buggy driver and jack of all cook Bakshi quickly gathered up their mangled bodies and got them cremated before sundown. Then they dispatched mail to their sons overseas to return home and immerse the ashes in the holy Ganges.    The letters never reached as the post office was bombed the next day.  The sons remained oblivious of their parent’s demise.  Finally the family lawyer as per instructions sold off the mansion keeping one room locked with family heirlooms for the sons whom he had informed via telegram.  It was a clause that was agreed upon by the buyer in the sale deed.  Their parent’s curse did not let Raj and Kesar rest in peace and their ashes languished along with the heirlooms.  They lingered on.

This was the room which attracted the baby most.  The keys had been provided to the new owner for mopping and dusting and for this service the sale price had been adjusted.

Little Bobby managed to climb the rocker in the forbidden room.  He was in seventh heaven.  There were so many interesting objects on the mantle above the fireplace.  Also there were those huge pictures of old people.  He scrambled down and crawled into the corner, when suddenly four hands quickly embraced him and hugged him.  He felt kisses being showered on his cheeks and squealed with delight.  The maid was passing by and heard the sound and came rushing in.  She brought out the dirty squirmy brat and then his mother saw perfect lip marks on his two cheeks! She got the fright of her life!  She decided to investigate.  She saw the nook where Bobby had crawled and there under the red velvet cloth lay two pots tied up with red threads.  They looked like someone’s ashes!

So the old people’s spirits were still in residence!  Oh my God! Her hand flew to her mouth in a silent cry.  She quickly called her husband home and showed him the ashes.

Next morning they called the local pundit who knew the departed well and said that they were waiting for salvation at the hands of their sons.  Fortunately the sons were finally in town to tie up the loose ends of the family business and property sale and had indicated that they would like to see what their parents had stored for them.  They were grief stricken and remorseful about their callous neglect.  But it was too late.  Next day they performed “Havan” and all rituals required to speed off their loved ones.  They immersed the ashes in the holy Ganges.  In their dream their parents had asked them to gift their silver swing with Bal Gopal to little Bobby their little playmate whom they had enjoyed during transition.

Bobby was in seventh heaven as now the secret room was thrown open and made into his playroom.  He slept with the Balgopal by his bedside.  His elderly friends no longer played with him.  They were resting in peace.

pictures from internet- not mine