Misery: All that left is a tale to tell

Chapter 1

“These kids won’t let me live my life with ease. Now, where has deepu gone?” deepu’s mom asked his elder brother in a partial angry tone.
“I don’t know, he went to buy some snacks”, replied his brother carelessly.
“He must be playing with the kids round the corner of the street, go and bring him back to the home. It has been more than an hour he is out in this chilling weather. ”, deepu’s mother said in an apprehensive tone.
15 minutes later deepu’s brother was back with lot of concern and worry on his face.
“I couldn’t find him anywhere mom. He is not in easy approach”
“What, where he could be, it’s 7 PM and already dark outside and … he was not wearing woolen clothes when he was leaving”, this time that courageous lady was horrified.
The day was 14th jan 1998. Deepu lived with his family in a town named Killa Pardi, district Valsad, Gujrat. Deepu’s father was a rich businessman and everyone in that district knew every member of their family. Deepu was just 13 and half year old that time. A kid, with lot of innocence, sincerity and calm on his face was missing. That time when deepu left the home, he was wearing a shirt and a half pant. He was out to buy some somasa against a hundred rupee note.
One hour ago, Deepu was kidnapped by two men who asked him the way to some street. When deepu was telling the correct way to reach their destination to one of them, other man suffocated deepu with chloroform. Deepu went faint.
It was 10 PM when deepu opened his eyes and found himself wrapped in a blanket sitting between the two men inside a train. Deepu felt something stinging at his back. It was a knife. The man with heavy mustaches, weird hair and stinking smell said in a low voice, “keeping quite will keep you alive”. The next moment two silent tears started their journey reflecting the white light of the compartment. Those two steaks were showing deepu’s lament for his fate. The next figure that came to Deepu’s mind was the figure of a lady who was weeping surrounded by his father, brother, uncles and aunts. People say that a mother always know what’s there in the heart of their kids but that small kid correctly pictured his mother back at home. Deepu wished if this was a dream. But that pinch of knife made him realize that horrifying tragedy. Deepu was wrapped in the blanket with a man who introduced himself as his father to the other passengers. He told the other passengers that deepu was sick and they are taking him to the city to consult a doctor. Deepu watched helplessly at the old women, a child of the same age group and 2 men sitting right in front of him. The Old woman was already in sleep, the child was at the window seat busy watching nothing outside and two men discussing the weather. Deepu heard a voice from nowhere stating that the train is going to arrive at Surat.
At his home family members and close relatives were tired of searching him at every possible place they could imagine. It has been more than four hours their beloved kid was missing. Few of them suggested his father to report the police station. His mother was continuously weeping sometimes loud and sometimes silently. Nobody ate anything and nobody at his home slept that night. It was midnight and the whole colony was talking about the missing deepu. Several thoughts were crossing everyone’s mind every second. But nobody talked about anything wrong that could happen with their sweet heart. It was all silence that filled the house. Only cries and “he will be back” were the sounds that broke that raucous silent laughter of misery that night.
Listless and lethargic Deepu slept again with dry lips and half dry tears in his eyes.
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This is an authentic and true story of one of my good friends. To read the further chapters of the story click the link given below. From there you can also download the .PDF version of the story. Thank you.

http://docs.google.com/fileview?id=0B2hNMKEafpdNMmFmZjdmZTAtZDlmNi00OWE4LTg0ZDctMDVhMzE2NDBkMWNm&hl=en

The child I miss!!

The child smiled gaily when he saw a blue colored elephant, yellow colored lion, red monkey and a black colored horse revolving above his head. All of them were tied to the ring with the help of a thread. And the ring was also tied to the rod of the cradle. The animal toys were far from the approach of the baby. But the smile was so genuine which made me doubt if the animals were giggling with him. The baby was amused with it. The baby I am talking about is just 8 months old. He can move around the house on his knees. I cajoled the activities of the child. I sat him free on the floor and rolled away his red football. The boy was looking at the ball very carefully. And the moment ball stopped at the other corner of the room he took a glance over me to show the rage. He dropped the toy he was playing with and with all his strength he reached the ball more quickly than I imagined. He reached the ball; picked it up with both hands and I saw a winsome smile over his face.
I just can't think of any other word but the love. The boy was in love, was in love with the world, with the things around him, his mother, father, anyone who picked him up in his hands, with the milk bottle, toys, with the television, with the cradle and even with the floor. He loved each one of them equally.
Once i was a child too. Was I in love with those things? I don't remember clearly. The things I loved and I remember were my cricket bat, my football, my blue ranger cycle, my colony friends, the cricket matches I played and my family members. Just those and the list is over. Really, i can't think of any other thing.
Now on the day I am writing all this I can't count anything other than my family which I love, just nothing. Every other thing has a better replacement. Laptop, bike, house, friends … yes even the friends, except the few diamonds.
What happened to that child I was talking about? I must have been like that. What happened to that young boy I remember? I don't know. I don't hate anything, but equally I also can't love a thing. What is the thing that mutated me into tushar Sharma you know? Nothing must has changed. My parents still love me the same way they loved me when I was born. I can buy all of those things who would have amused me if I were a baby. What the hell I gained to lose that feeling? The only answer I can pragmatically utter is the Rationality and the truth. These are the villeins I blame.
Who took my open smile of attraction, who took my grin; why my crackle wore a silence, why I became prim?