5 Amazing Dr. Abdul Kalam Stories
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This blog is about Rajorshi Mukherjee and his creative writing that he comes up with now and then (read irregularly)
Tuesday 4 August 2015
Wednesday 31 December 2014
The Sign On The Door 1
Disclaimer : This is a story of pure fiction. Any resemblance to objects or people or any other work is purely coincidental.
It is a dark moonless night. Even the stars seem to have shied away from their normal twinkling presence. Seems like even nature is not willing to bear witness to the nefarious actions and intents of The Cult of The Dark Sapphire. Surprisingly its members are composed of usual people. Normal human beings like you and me.The only difference is in their mindsets from us. They are powerful people, top notch businessmen, politicians, generals, and the like united by only one purpose. The occult.
Since time immemorial, there has been disputes, there has been strife, man has been the center of such actions for a very long time running the same old show in a never-ending repeat telecast of events that have already taken place over and over again and again. Waging war and violence and strife and all those things that deviate us from our humanity. Since a very long time, man has found ways and methods to kill other men and other animals and the end is quite inevitable. There are more ways to kill living things than any other art in human knowledge, from spears, stick and stones to nuclear missiles. All created with one intention, TO KILL. They will not rest until they finish each other off. For now let us stick to the present. Let us leave those tales for the old people to philosophize on. Our motive is to stick to the present.
The great gathering of the heads of all the major power centers have aggregated in the unholy grounds of Void. The place where many countless battles had taken place in the past and even the trees that grow there being perpetually nourished by the carcasses of fallen warriors and their blood have leaves that are crimson in colour to visually confirm that they are ever thirsty for more. More blood, more death, more human agony and despair. A sound comes from where the Cult members are organized. They have began to chant. It cannot be deciphered as the language was not of human origin. They make their presence felt among all those things that are unholy. They greet it rather. Into their minds, into their hearts, into their souls. They taint it with their will. They summon their benefactor. Their great Lord Dark Sapphire. The Lord asks them for their desires. The Cult members each offer names and asks their lord to dispose them off, their rivals, their enemies, their brothers or sisters who have claim to some fortune. Brother killing brother for some temporal gain.
Their Lord grants them their wish and moves from this plane of existence to the underworld from where he would unleash his malice. The sound of thunder greets the Cult members and it acts as a confirmation that their wish was granted. Immediately all those whose names were mentioned dark clouds start gathering over their house. The clouds release a wisp of smoke from them and they travel down to the doors of the houses. The door is marked at the bottom right corner. A small square area is etched with the sign of a Hexagram.
The curse is in place. All that remains are for the innocent to perish.
The Sign On The Door
Chapter One - Welcome to our plane of existence.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidYYZ4YtMl6W498uCJVdqo3nly5_GX8IFU17b32LPOx7iRrnqFakHbD0Kg8X-8_Q0ZqhSymJt2o_nx2lV-qSeUmPQ-4a5R0s2umWz22hw7xgVEfryo_C_uZCxA0uDOmDJ64WQ6lyFnUWg/s1600/dark+sapphire.jpg)
Since time immemorial, there has been disputes, there has been strife, man has been the center of such actions for a very long time running the same old show in a never-ending repeat telecast of events that have already taken place over and over again and again. Waging war and violence and strife and all those things that deviate us from our humanity. Since a very long time, man has found ways and methods to kill other men and other animals and the end is quite inevitable. There are more ways to kill living things than any other art in human knowledge, from spears, stick and stones to nuclear missiles. All created with one intention, TO KILL. They will not rest until they finish each other off. For now let us stick to the present. Let us leave those tales for the old people to philosophize on. Our motive is to stick to the present.
The great gathering of the heads of all the major power centers have aggregated in the unholy grounds of Void. The place where many countless battles had taken place in the past and even the trees that grow there being perpetually nourished by the carcasses of fallen warriors and their blood have leaves that are crimson in colour to visually confirm that they are ever thirsty for more. More blood, more death, more human agony and despair. A sound comes from where the Cult members are organized. They have began to chant. It cannot be deciphered as the language was not of human origin. They make their presence felt among all those things that are unholy. They greet it rather. Into their minds, into their hearts, into their souls. They taint it with their will. They summon their benefactor. Their great Lord Dark Sapphire. The Lord asks them for their desires. The Cult members each offer names and asks their lord to dispose them off, their rivals, their enemies, their brothers or sisters who have claim to some fortune. Brother killing brother for some temporal gain.
Their Lord grants them their wish and moves from this plane of existence to the underworld from where he would unleash his malice. The sound of thunder greets the Cult members and it acts as a confirmation that their wish was granted. Immediately all those whose names were mentioned dark clouds start gathering over their house. The clouds release a wisp of smoke from them and they travel down to the doors of the houses. The door is marked at the bottom right corner. A small square area is etched with the sign of a Hexagram.
The curse is in place. All that remains are for the innocent to perish.
Wednesday 24 December 2014
The Road Less Taversed
Recently I had to meet up with a friend near Nandan. It is a nice location near Exide More in Kolkata.
After meeting up with my friend and exchanging a few pleasantries we parted ways. It was then that I realized that I was near my school and it had been a few years that I have visited it. I don't know what overwhelming desire I overcame me but I felt that I had to visit the place. It was then that I began my long winding trip to my home instead of taking a cushy ride in a metro.
The places near my school started reviving those long lived memories that have been ingrained in me for thirteen consecutive years. I remember how my school used to look and seeing the new changes that have been placed on the top gave me a feeling of insecurity. I guess nothing is meant to last forever. (Summer of '69 by Bryan Adams). Ofcourse the school was closed for the holidays. But it was worth going that way just to get a glimpse of my childhood memory storage. (CSE student, can't help being technical at some point in time).
After that I started my walk home. The same path with the least variations that was the shortest distance for my home. The same path that I had used for nine consecutive years from 2002 to 2011. It was like muscle memory. I didn't have to consciously turn and move according to the road. I just went, with no thought of roads. The curves, the bends, the corners all too familiar to pause and decide about the course of action. Even the traffic it seems is the same after all these years. Its as if the path hasn't aged a day.
But still there were things which I was so accustomed to that when they failed to show up, it caused a sense of uneasiness. There used to be a solidified bag of concrete on the side of one of the roads. It had been lying there for atleast five years when I used to go through the place regularly. That for starters was missing. Passing the place I searched for the bag, but there was no mistaking it. That thing was certainly gone.
I slowly trudged my way across the known roads not even realizing how much distance I had covered in a somnambulist like state that when I turned near Matri Sangha in Bhowanipore, that I was taken aback by the great expanse of free space that suddenly assaulted my eyes and senses. There used to be a big building near that place. Quite an old one actually, many families used to live there. All of a sudden I find that the building has been completely demolished and materials for building a new one was being arranged. I was totally surprised at seeing the building gone. I think a friend of mine also resided there. I asked a guard about when the building was demolished and whether it was fairly recent. He replied that it was destroyed about six months back. In return he inquired how long ago did I visit this place last. In truth I said about four years. The guard gave a hearty laugh and said to me "Beta, Waqt kisi ke liye rukta nehi" (English Translation: Son, Time does not wait for anyone).
Although I wanted to know where the residents were and their whereabouts but I was pretty sure he didn't know anything as he was recently appointed. So I decided to the do the thing which time did to me. I moved on.
It was near Motor Vehicles a location near Lansdown Market that another fond memory made its presence. It was in that street that I had met a friend of mine by chance a long time ago. Her name eludes me right now, but when I was returning from school I had the chance to meet her and we had a good chat for quite some time. It was back in 2010. Now at the end of 2014 I was hoping to get a glimpse of her once again. Perhaps exchange a few words and pleasantries, inquire as to what she is doing now and tell her about me.
Alas!
She did not show up. Well there is no harm having high expectations I guess. Anyway I then met an old man in the Lansdown Market. He is a shoe seller by profession and used to greet me everyday on my return trip from school. In the past three years he had visibly aged and was actually hard to recognize him, but the warmth emanating from his eyes were unmistakable. It was him for certain. He greeted me with the same way he used to with blessings and asked about my current studies and what I am doing.
I exchanged some words with him and then bid him adieu to him as well. There were no more surprises awaiting me any further as I was in my home turf. But one thing is for certain. The road less traversed has completely changed in the past few years.
Cheerio!
Rajorshi Mukherjee
Location:
India
Tuesday 23 December 2014
The First Step
Hello Everyone!
Greetings to all!
How have you been?
This is my first blog post and it is here that I want to clarify a few things about my blog.
I am Rajorshi Mukherjee and this blog is and outlet for all my creative feelings and random ramblings and all the stuff that comes to my mind that I want to share with people.
Make no mistake. The content of my blog is for public viewing. It is not for public reproduction. Do consider that you have been forewarned and I will not tolerate plagiarism. Otherwise healthy and constructive criticism is always welcome. Any request for reproduction will need be asked for and proper credits be provided in the end, unless it is for brief excerpts and quotations that may be made and a link to my blog be provided in a hyperlink.
I also write another blog in the wordpress platform and the link is here. I will be posting stuff in both blogs and you can follow me in either or both of them.
Having said all that lets immerse ourselves in the art of writing.
Cheers!:)
Labels:
Beginning,
Blogging,
Creative Writing,
First Post,
Sharing,
Writing
Location:
Kolkata, West Bengal, India
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