<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516</id><updated>2025-05-13T04:54:38.786-07:00</updated><category term="Short Story"/><category term="action movies"/><category term="movies"/><category term="Adam"/><category term="Arts"/><category term="Conversation"/><category term="Courier"/><category term="Eve"/><category term="Heartbreak"/><category term="Romantic"/><category term="Suicide"/><category term="Wish"/><category term="hollywood"/><category term="tom cruise"/><title type='text'>Storyteller</title><subtitle type='html'>Some Interesting Twisted Short Stories Known to Few Ones</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-4695612781954560928</id><published>2024-09-20T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-20T06:00:00.119-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action movies"/><title type='text'>Movie Review: Kalki 2898 AD</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz0U2J_JwYUTjkftuUXINJNLbnmu4LEDXLOwDeO4pzKccym8rbFumjVQ-gOYjeUzAIPAYRt9xvb3n8ydd1iNf99eTTizRlUEre4NZxK7-8mWXVY7VM8nwPA_cd75ws5bv3atSd-z0zwZm1haPJfIk4YDsyatG7Oj5FuenfpSG_rvZoHjEDONsAF7v1N6w/s753/Kalki.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;356&quot; data-original-width=&quot;753&quot; height=&quot;283&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz0U2J_JwYUTjkftuUXINJNLbnmu4LEDXLOwDeO4pzKccym8rbFumjVQ-gOYjeUzAIPAYRt9xvb3n8ydd1iNf99eTTizRlUEre4NZxK7-8mWXVY7VM8nwPA_cd75ws5bv3atSd-z0zwZm1haPJfIk4YDsyatG7Oj5FuenfpSG_rvZoHjEDONsAF7v1N6w/w601-h283/Kalki.jpg&quot; width=&quot;601&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the cinematic universe of Indian science fiction, &lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; is an unparalleled milestone. Directed by Nag Ashwin, this grand spectacle melds mythology with dystopian futurism, creating an experience that resonates beyond the screen. With the visionary Prabhas at the helm, portraying the titular Kalki—Hinduism’s prophesied tenth avatar of Vishnu—this film serves as both a riveting epic and a profound meditation on the cyclical nature of human civilization.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Plot: A Vision of the Future—and the Past&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;The year is 2898 AD, and Earth, now a shadow of its former self, is ruled by oppressive regimes that have cast aside the ancient virtues of humanity. Technology has evolved into something akin to magic, where quantum mechanics and AI form a dystopian theocracy that controls the masses. Amidst the chaos, the prophecy of Kalki—foretold in the ancient Hindu texts—begins to materialize, with a mysterious warrior rising from obscurity to challenge the dominion of these tyrannical forces.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Prabhas embodies Kalki with a gravitas that balances both divine predestination and human vulnerability. His journey is a visual symphony of ancient prophecies, sprawling battles, and interstellar voyages. The film is replete with stunning visual set-pieces: from cityscapes that resemble towering mandalas to brutalist architecture cloaked in spiritual iconography. But what stands out most is the narrative structure that seamlessly bridges ancient Vedic philosophy with the farthest reaches of speculative science fiction.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Performances: Divine and Human Intertwined&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;Prabhas’ Kalki is a force of nature—a warrior-monk who must navigate the frailty of his own soul while confronting a destiny that has been etched into the cosmic fabric. His quiet intensity brings the audience into his existential struggle, making every choice feel monumental.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Deepika Padukone delivers an ethereal yet grounded performance as Aditi, a rebel leader whose connection to Kalki is both fated and forged through shared suffering. Her arc transcends the typical heroine narrative, presenting her as Kalki’s intellectual and emotional equal. Amitabh Bachchan, in a haunting portrayal of an ancient seer trapped between time and space, offers a gravitas that anchors the story’s mythological roots.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The supporting cast, including Disha Patani and Kamal Haasan, are given characters that could have easily fallen into archetypal traps, but their portrayals are nuanced and compelling, reinforcing the film&#39;s exploration of morality, duty, and free will.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Direction: Nag Ashwin’s Bold Fusion&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nag Ashwin has achieved what many filmmakers attempt but few truly succeed at: the fusion of genre filmmaking with philosophical depth. The film is drenched in symbolic imagery and allegory, but never at the cost of pace or entertainment. Ashwin crafts a universe where the sacred and the scientific coexist, yet the world feels lived-in and organic. His storytelling is bold, refusing to simplify the metaphysical complexities of reincarnation, karma, and dharma, while maintaining a pulse-pounding momentum.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The influence of classic science fiction is apparent—there are shades of &lt;em&gt;Blade Runner&lt;/em&gt; in the dystopian metropolis, &lt;em&gt;Dune&lt;/em&gt; in the sprawling political intrigue, and &lt;em&gt;Interstellar&lt;/em&gt; in its contemplation of time and space. Yet, &lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; remains distinctly Indian in its heart, embracing the cyclicality of time that is central to Hindu cosmology.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Visuals and Music: Mythology Meets Futurism&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;Visually, &lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; is a feast. The art direction is a breathtaking blend of futurism and mythic imagery. The towering citadels, drenched in neon hues, feel like spiritual temples for a new age, while the technological marvels of the future—from biomechanical warriors to consciousness-transcending AI—feel as if they’ve been plucked from an advanced Vedic text. The cinematography, with its sweeping vistas and intimate close-ups, contrasts the vastness of the universe with the individual soul’s journey.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M.M. Keeravani’s score is nothing short of transcendent. Combining classical Indian instruments with futuristic soundscapes, the music guides the audience through moments of intense action, spiritual awakening, and emotional reckoning. The haunting strains of the &lt;em&gt;veena&lt;/em&gt; mixed with synth echoes create a soundscape that feels as timeless as the universe itself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Themes: Cyclicality and Redemption&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; doesn’t just tell the story of a savior rising against tyranny—it explores deeper themes of cyclical time, destiny, and redemption. The film’s narrative mirrors the Hindu concept of &lt;em&gt;Yugas&lt;/em&gt;—cycles of time where humanity rises and falls, destined to repeat its mistakes until a divine intervention. Kalki’s mission is not just to overthrow a corrupt regime, but to break the eternal cycle, offering humanity a chance at transcendence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is a sense of fatalism that permeates the film, but it is tempered with hope—the idea that even in the darkest of times, there is a force within us that can rise, evolve, and transcend. Kalki’s journey is not just about defeating an external enemy; it’s about understanding his role in the cosmic dance of creation and destruction.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Conclusion: A New Era for Indian Sci-Fi&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; is a rare cinematic experience that transcends genre, culture, and time. It combines the mythic grandeur of Indian epics with the speculative imagination of science fiction to create something that feels both ancient and futuristic. This is not just a film—it is a vision of what Indian cinema can achieve when it dares to push boundaries and embrace its own rich philosophical heritage.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the years to come, &lt;strong&gt;&quot;Kalki 2898 AD&quot;&lt;/strong&gt; will be remembered as a turning point, not just in Indian cinema, but in the global conversation about what science fiction can accomplish. It is a reminder that the future is not only technological—it is also spiritual.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/4695612781954560928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/4695612781954560928?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4695612781954560928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4695612781954560928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2024/09/movie-review-kalki-2898-ad.html' title='Movie Review: Kalki 2898 AD'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiz0U2J_JwYUTjkftuUXINJNLbnmu4LEDXLOwDeO4pzKccym8rbFumjVQ-gOYjeUzAIPAYRt9xvb3n8ydd1iNf99eTTizRlUEre4NZxK7-8mWXVY7VM8nwPA_cd75ws5bv3atSd-z0zwZm1haPJfIk4YDsyatG7Oj5FuenfpSG_rvZoHjEDONsAF7v1N6w/s72-w601-h283-c/Kalki.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-6029022810715835993</id><published>2024-09-17T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-17T21:58:00.117-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies"/><title type='text'>MOVIE REVIEW : Sector 36</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwfic0DSqPRzTDHp-1j8cobVJsUO17kHTfUGudGyUFDPnnbSzFQlLGJYCi0TzaVxb7_7XENRlx4JFFS2Xh_M3JhMaHx8XVkd0vftjV9GqY2InYwuT9EBgH6iLDkz-MuTobv85N0Ob3Z8rFuyEjI_mluQlIs89_NsGhFOpdmgmMMglugXcsjHXU1lYF6-T/s719/Sector.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;405&quot; data-original-width=&quot;719&quot; height=&quot;339&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwfic0DSqPRzTDHp-1j8cobVJsUO17kHTfUGudGyUFDPnnbSzFQlLGJYCi0TzaVxb7_7XENRlx4JFFS2Xh_M3JhMaHx8XVkd0vftjV9GqY2InYwuT9EBgH6iLDkz-MuTobv85N0Ob3Z8rFuyEjI_mluQlIs89_NsGhFOpdmgmMMglugXcsjHXU1lYF6-T/w603-h339/Sector.jpg&quot; width=&quot;603&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sector 36&lt;/em&gt; is a beast of a film that grabs you by the throat from the opening scene and never lets go. Directed with razor-sharp precision, this taut crime thriller is a testament to the idea that justice is not only blind, but at times, unforgivingly brutal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The story plunges us into the underbelly of an urban nightmare, a city teetering on the edge of chaos. Sector 36, a notorious district, is where the worst of humanity festers—drug lords, traffickers, and killers run rampant, protected by a system too corrupt or too broken to stop them. Enter our protagonist, a steely, weathered police officer who’s seen too much and lost even more. His resolve is both terrifying and magnetic, a man who walks the fine line between law enforcer and vigilante, driven by a thirst for vengeance that feels personal, raw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The atmosphere is oppressive, the kind of claustrophobic urban decay that makes you sweat just watching it. The cinematography is slick, using dim, harsh lighting to mirror the moral murkiness of the characters. Grit and grime coat every surface, from the damp alleyways to the crumbling tenements. You can almost smell the gasoline, blood, and desperation in the air.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Performances are stellar across the board. The lead officer—portrayed with ferocious intensity—embodies the weight of a man caught in an ethical quagmire. Every decision he makes feels like it’s carved from stone, a slow descent into madness where each action spirals further away from any clear notion of right and wrong. His eyes, hardened and hollow, betray a man who has long since lost any semblance of peace. Opposite him stands the villain, cold-blooded and menacing, a figure who is as much a product of the environment as the chaos itself. Their showdown is inevitable, but it’s the journey that twists the knife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What sets &lt;em&gt;Sector 36&lt;/em&gt; apart from other crime thrillers is its unflinching commitment to realism. There are no tidy endings here, no clean-cut heroes. The violence is visceral, brutal, and messy—every gunshot, every punch, every wound feels real, as though the consequences extend beyond the screen. The moral ambiguity that underpins the film is suffocating; no one walks away unscathed, not even the audience.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yet, the film’s greatest triumph is also its most harrowing aspect: it forces you to question where the line between justice and revenge truly lies. By the time the credits roll, you’re left haunted, heart pounding in your chest, grappling with the implications of everything you’ve just witnessed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sector 36&lt;/em&gt; is not for the faint of heart. It’s a film that gets under your skin and stays there, an unrelenting examination of a world where justice is a distant memory and survival comes at a steep price. A must-watch for those who crave intensity, it’s a reminder that sometimes, the scariest monsters are the ones we create ourselves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/6029022810715835993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/6029022810715835993?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6029022810715835993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6029022810715835993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2024/09/movie-review-sector-36.html' title='MOVIE REVIEW : Sector 36'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwfic0DSqPRzTDHp-1j8cobVJsUO17kHTfUGudGyUFDPnnbSzFQlLGJYCi0TzaVxb7_7XENRlx4JFFS2Xh_M3JhMaHx8XVkd0vftjV9GqY2InYwuT9EBgH6iLDkz-MuTobv85N0Ob3Z8rFuyEjI_mluQlIs89_NsGhFOpdmgmMMglugXcsjHXU1lYF6-T/s72-w603-h339-c/Sector.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-3346787106139031866</id><published>2024-09-14T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-14T21:50:23.750-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action movies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies"/><title type='text'>MOVIEW REVIEW : The Buckingham Murders</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuXLP7uunAK8JNhiLTAw5qDsp_dcT0ZKpV_I4rfJorQaMLmU7EN1VtasFpqTds7M4S2Q47yE84gzBDOAnrGLYtW0GIUZjJY1VXdY3ZmnzzgKsgtpn6YSE1-D9sKjibNIrcHtsdibLXl5tO6gYf6tHYLuD3iRjxk9Dov6v-O4vOcJQurIiJjPI7ASZG3jY/s539/KK.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;298&quot; data-original-width=&quot;539&quot; height=&quot;321&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuXLP7uunAK8JNhiLTAw5qDsp_dcT0ZKpV_I4rfJorQaMLmU7EN1VtasFpqTds7M4S2Q47yE84gzBDOAnrGLYtW0GIUZjJY1VXdY3ZmnzzgKsgtpn6YSE1-D9sKjibNIrcHtsdibLXl5tO6gYf6tHYLuD3iRjxk9Dov6v-O4vOcJQurIiJjPI7ASZG3jY/w580-h321/KK.jpg&quot; width=&quot;580&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Buckingham Murders&lt;/em&gt; is a 2024 thriller directed by Hansal Mehta, featuring Kareena Kapoor Khan in the lead role, and marks her debut as a producer. The film is a departure from Kapoor&#39;s usual glamorous roles, offering her a chance to showcase a more subdued and intense performance in a moody, British crime setting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Plot Overview:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;The story revolves around Jasmeet Bhamra (played by Kareena Kapoor Khan), a detective grappling with personal trauma after the tragic loss of her young son. She moves to a quiet English town, hoping to rebuild her life. However, her attempt to find solace is disrupted when she is assigned to investigate the disappearance and suspected murder of a child. This case brings Jasmeet face-to-face with her own unresolved grief and emotional scars.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As the investigation unfolds, it turns into a hauntingly emotional journey for Jasmeet, blending the complexities of detective work with personal loss, emotional conflict, and guilt. The storyline pays homage to British crime dramas, particularly evoking the tone of shows like &lt;em&gt;Broadchurch&lt;/em&gt;, with its slow-burn narrative and atmospheric tension.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Performances:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kareena Kapoor Khan shines as Jasmeet, a role that requires restraint and introspection. Her portrayal of a mother in mourning is both compelling and emotionally charged. There’s a vulnerability in her performance that feels raw, bringing depth to the character’s internal struggle. Kapoor handles the complex emotional terrain with subtlety, avoiding melodrama in favor of a quiet but powerful portrayal of grief.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The supporting cast, featuring British actors, complements Kapoor’s performance, creating a believable small-town community where everyone hides their secrets. While their performances are solid, the film is undoubtedly a vehicle for Kapoor to prove her dramatic chops, and she succeeds.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Direction and Cinematography:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hansal Mehta, known for his realistic, hard-hitting narratives (&lt;em&gt;Shahid&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Aligarh&lt;/em&gt;), brings a brooding, atmospheric touch to &lt;em&gt;The Buckingham Murders&lt;/em&gt;. The film feels steeped in the tradition of British crime thrillers, with a keen focus on character development and psychological tension rather than fast-paced action. The chilly English landscape, captured beautifully by the cinematography, adds to the film’s mood, mirroring the protagonist&#39;s isolation and inner turmoil.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mehta’s direction ensures that the film remains grounded, with a slow-burn pace that may not appeal to all audiences but is perfect for those who enjoy a more thoughtful, emotionally rich narrative. The atmosphere is thick with unease, and every scene is meticulously crafted to build tension.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Themes:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;Grief, loss, and the lingering effects of trauma are central themes in &lt;em&gt;The Buckingham Murders&lt;/em&gt;. The film examines how personal pain can affect professional responsibilities and how unresolved grief can manifest in unexpected ways. It’s as much a psychological drama as it is a crime thriller, with the murder mystery serving as a backdrop to a more profound exploration of human emotions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The film also touches on motherhood and guilt, exploring how Jasmeet’s loss continues to shape her actions and decisions. There’s a clear parallel between her personal tragedy and the case she’s investigating, creating a layered narrative that goes beyond the typical crime thriller.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Final Verdict:&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Buckingham Murders&lt;/em&gt; is not a typical crime thriller. It’s a slow, introspective film that prioritizes character study over action. Kareena Kapoor Khan’s performance is the heart of the movie, and her portrayal of a mother dealing with loss is both heartbreaking and haunting. Hansal Mehta’s direction ensures that the film remains grounded, and the bleak, atmospheric cinematography further enhances the tone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While the slow pace and lack of traditional suspense may not appeal to all viewers, those who appreciate character-driven narratives and psychological depth will find much to admire in &lt;em&gt;The Buckingham Murders&lt;/em&gt;. It’s a well-crafted film that signals a new direction for Kareena Kapoor Khan as both an actress and a producer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/3346787106139031866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/3346787106139031866?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/3346787106139031866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/3346787106139031866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2024/09/moview-review-buckingham-murders.html' title='MOVIEW REVIEW : The Buckingham Murders'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuXLP7uunAK8JNhiLTAw5qDsp_dcT0ZKpV_I4rfJorQaMLmU7EN1VtasFpqTds7M4S2Q47yE84gzBDOAnrGLYtW0GIUZjJY1VXdY3ZmnzzgKsgtpn6YSE1-D9sKjibNIrcHtsdibLXl5tO6gYf6tHYLuD3iRjxk9Dov6v-O4vOcJQurIiJjPI7ASZG3jY/s72-w580-h321-c/KK.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-5394428036430953457</id><published>2024-07-28T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2024-09-14T21:29:36.903-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action movies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="movies"/><title type='text'>MOVIE REVIEW: Madame Web</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaVk26hilJrjgArJDqb9enBG9qdvPxxNMpY8VMU_m7I_abeSiIr_bGp_xxqrwa-3NGE-IlVcJC6EVUeRCoVyEOzRu9tixR1Jiv-VBtvv3mL2KzNRAhjKZngp1c_dgJEjknEA3yuzAn37yit2RtcnUYPQlwOBrQgtDpqScAoMrtQhifbqeIbRyy7udzdnQ/s736/Madame%20Web.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;413&quot; data-original-width=&quot;736&quot; height=&quot;285&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaVk26hilJrjgArJDqb9enBG9qdvPxxNMpY8VMU_m7I_abeSiIr_bGp_xxqrwa-3NGE-IlVcJC6EVUeRCoVyEOzRu9tixR1Jiv-VBtvv3mL2KzNRAhjKZngp1c_dgJEjknEA3yuzAn37yit2RtcnUYPQlwOBrQgtDpqScAoMrtQhifbqeIbRyy7udzdnQ/w507-h285/Madame%20Web.jpg&quot; width=&quot;507&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Madame Web dives into the Spider-Man universe with a fresh perspective, focusing on the enigmatic character who has been a key figure in the Marvel Comics lore. Directed by S.J. Clarkson, the film attempts to expand the Spider-Man universe by exploring the mystical and complex world of Madame Web, a clairvoyant with the power to see across dimensions and timelines. This narrative choice allows the film to branch out from traditional superhero fare, delving into themes of destiny, choice, and interconnectedness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The plot centers around Cassandra Webb, portrayed by Dakota Johnson, who discovers her extraordinary abilities and the burdens they entail. The film does well in showcasing Johnson&#39;s range, balancing vulnerability and strength as she navigates her role as a pivotal character within the Spider-Man multiverse. The supporting cast, including Sydney Sweeney and Isabela Merced, adds depth to the story, each character bringing their unique struggles and dynamics to the narrative. Their performances contribute to a rich, albeit somewhat convoluted, web of relationships and conflicts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Visually, Madame Web stands out with its distinctive blend of surreal and fantastical elements. The film&#39;s use of special effects and set design effectively portrays the multidimensional aspects of Madame Web&#39;s abilities, creating a visually arresting experience. However, the execution of these elements can sometimes feel overwhelming, with rapid transitions between worlds and timelines potentially disorienting viewers who are not already familiar with the character&#39;s background.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Critically, the film&#39;s ambitious scope is both its strength and its weakness. While it successfully expands the Spider-Man universe and introduces intriguing new concepts, it occasionally struggles with pacing and coherence. The complex narrative may alienate viewers who prefer more straightforward superhero stories. Despite these challenges, Madame Web offers a fresh take on the genre and provides a solid foundation for future stories within the Spider-Man universe, making it a compelling watch for fans eager to explore new facets of this expansive world.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/5394428036430953457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/5394428036430953457?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/5394428036430953457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/5394428036430953457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2024/07/movie-review-madame-web.html' title='MOVIE REVIEW: Madame Web'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaVk26hilJrjgArJDqb9enBG9qdvPxxNMpY8VMU_m7I_abeSiIr_bGp_xxqrwa-3NGE-IlVcJC6EVUeRCoVyEOzRu9tixR1Jiv-VBtvv3mL2KzNRAhjKZngp1c_dgJEjknEA3yuzAn37yit2RtcnUYPQlwOBrQgtDpqScAoMrtQhifbqeIbRyy7udzdnQ/s72-w507-h285-c/Madame%20Web.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-7678060919813032288</id><published>2023-03-26T08:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2024-07-28T19:23:09.761-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="action movies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hollywood"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tom cruise"/><title type='text'>MOVIE REVIEW:  Top Gun: Maverick</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJ0H5unoeqYbL4-ijWB4mLd8v2Ng6OUIuSyqIt201K2hGemJqN_Zzra5Ip_LEb3u0l6IZXVh9KtTyfE6l7br-NT1YXGzbp2XToqi-X-ug0sxaLTwZ_qUWCWRmrPMqjCM8w5UqoCyx7qMfxTYqgMIIaEzCzel_28vgffP6nyegj6rLmwM0f6mw0YdKUw/s589/tom.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;324&quot; data-original-width=&quot;589&quot; height=&quot;176&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJ0H5unoeqYbL4-ijWB4mLd8v2Ng6OUIuSyqIt201K2hGemJqN_Zzra5Ip_LEb3u0l6IZXVh9KtTyfE6l7br-NT1YXGzbp2XToqi-X-ug0sxaLTwZ_qUWCWRmrPMqjCM8w5UqoCyx7qMfxTYqgMIIaEzCzel_28vgffP6nyegj6rLmwM0f6mw0YdKUw/s320/tom.png&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&quot;Top Gun: Maverick&quot; is a long-awaited sequel to the original &quot;Top Gun&quot; movie, which was released in 1986. Directed by Joseph Kosinski, this movie is a perfect blend of action, drama, and nostalgia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tom Cruise, who played the role of Maverick in the original movie, reprises his role in this sequel, which is set 34 years after the events of the first film. The story revolves around Maverick, who is now a flight instructor, training a new generation of pilots, including the son of his late friend, Goose. As he trains his new recruits, Maverick confronts his past and deals with personal and professional challenges.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the highlights of the movie is the breathtaking aerial shots, which are a treat to watch on the big screen. The dogfight scenes are particularly impressive, and the special effects used in the movie are top-notch. The movie also has a great soundtrack that includes some classic hits from the original movie.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The cast is impressive, with some talented actors joining the franchise. Miles Teller, who plays Goose&#39;s son, does a great job of carrying the legacy of his father. Jennifer Connelly, who plays Maverick&#39;s love interest, brings depth to her character, and Jon Hamm, who plays a high-ranking military officer, delivers a solid performance.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Overall, &quot;Top Gun: Maverick&quot; is an excellent sequel that manages to capture the spirit of the original movie while still feeling fresh and exciting. It&#39;s a must-watch for fans of the original movie, as well as anyone who enjoys high-octane action and drama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/7678060919813032288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/7678060919813032288?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/7678060919813032288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/7678060919813032288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2023/03/movie-review-top-gun-maverick.html' title='MOVIE REVIEW:  Top Gun: Maverick'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcJ0H5unoeqYbL4-ijWB4mLd8v2Ng6OUIuSyqIt201K2hGemJqN_Zzra5Ip_LEb3u0l6IZXVh9KtTyfE6l7br-NT1YXGzbp2XToqi-X-ug0sxaLTwZ_qUWCWRmrPMqjCM8w5UqoCyx7qMfxTYqgMIIaEzCzel_28vgffP6nyegj6rLmwM0f6mw0YdKUw/s72-c/tom.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-4713832393546046056</id><published>2020-02-08T18:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2020-02-08T18:39:40.357-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Almond Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background: white; color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;One couple with their
little son were living happily in a house. One day the wife found some almonds
in a jar on the kitchen shelf. It was almost forgotten, kept deep behind. The
wife was quite health conscious. She always used to prepare foods with less oil,
less spice. She used to control and monitor her husband&#39;s food habits also.
Drinking a lot of water was a must-to-do daily routine for that couple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;&quot;&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;The wife was quite happy with this sudden discovery. She did
not want to keep those almonds untouched anymore and want to empty the jar. It
was late evening. The wife took a bowl and put all the almonds in that. Then she
poured some water into it. Somewhere she read that soaked almonds are good for
health. She did not want to miss the chance and waited for the next morning to come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;The next morning, the husband woke up first with the same daily
habit of reading the magazine for some time. Meanwhile, he felt little hunger and
rushed to the kitchen casually to find something suitable that he could manage
until breakfast time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;He found those water-soaked almonds in a bowl. He grabbed it
and started eating almonds one after another standing in the kitchen itself. At
the same time, he was so mesmerized with one magazine story but not out of his
sense. After a few seconds, he roughly counted almonds which were left by that
time. He picked one or two and thought the rest will be finished by his wife.
That&#39;s the true spirit of sharing between couples. His wife always used to
sacrifice in case of any meals for her husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;An hour passed by. The husband was working on the laptop. By
that time his wife woke up. Suddenly she entered the room with that kitchen
bowl in hand. It was not clear what was in the bowl. The husband lifted
his chin from the laptop and tried to read his wife&#39;s face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;&quot;Oh dear, I left some almonds for you also. How can you
expect that I cannot care for you?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;It was true that the husband was not lying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;Hearing this, the wife was puzzled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;The wife then showed the bowl by tilting a little bit. Also,
she could not hide her disappointment on her face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;To his surprise, the husband found that it was just one
soaked almond left for his wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;Actually, he thought his wife came to tell him that he should
not leave too many almonds for her. She would be happy with few ones like it
used to happen in other cases for granted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;br style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot; /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background: white;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;&quot;&gt;The husband ate almost all almonds absent-mindedly and left
just one. He could not even recall how just that happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/4713832393546046056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/4713832393546046056?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4713832393546046056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4713832393546046056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-almond-story.html' title='The Almond Story'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi09NrIYpWhZQ55IoUJe_dbHVmq0gyLl6McuIRRYA14gYq9gvAGTEwl6FBlCDfGFGoacizeeNTTTMrTDPA6LvOTA7-jPg68xUT27a2m0_vqCW4L_PdScB1Xdcwbpld6gctIicfowoKChREF/s72-c/7673037562_9c0f47af99_q.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-6465148689325675910</id><published>2011-12-05T20:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2019-07-07T10:15:37.981-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Heartbreak"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Wish"/><title type='text'>A Wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;br /&gt;
Dated: December 06, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;How many times have you felt dejected when God has not fulfilled your wish?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I am going to tell you a tale which is based on wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I know Arpan since my childhood – since those days when we used to fight over rare and expensive TinTin Comics available in a small town, since those days when we used to fight for the best place in classroom just around the single ceiling fan in a class of 61, since those days when we were in impish deed like ringing door bells of any house and used to run away from the spot. &amp;nbsp;Still we were best friends and had close-nit bond. Those days remain yearning forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;After we passed school, we were not in same place. Things had changed. I got opportunities to study in Metropolis and left my small town. Still we were in touch. My best hang out had been always with him when I was at my home in vacation. The only change I saw in him, that he was quite reserved to share his personal matters, otherwise he was fun loving and full of life. I always saw him with an affable smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I could remember the day I met him last time just before my Visa to Australia was in process. I got a job over there. Now I am telling you about the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;On that day, Arpan was half drunk though I knew him as non-drinker. We were in an unattended garden of Mango Tress. It was just after sunset – a crepuscule. He was sheer heartbroken and by that time, I am totally naive what happened to him. &amp;nbsp;He was howling restlessly. It was very difficult for me to bear the scene. I felt pity. I asked him with compassionate voice – “You were quite cheery on other day and now what on Earth has happened to you?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;After insistence, at last he started baring his chapfallen heart taking so many pauses in between. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Arpan was in touch with 3 girls in a family in same colony. I know the family but not much about those girls as I was always away from home since I started realizing the world in broader way. He did a lot for that family, especially for those girls, just as a neighbor as the only male candidate of that family used to be always out of town for job purpose. &amp;nbsp;He built a good reputation of himself – so assistive, so caring, so kind. But believe me - in this age, such kind of reputation is so fickle that you have to be always careful. There were rumours around questioning his unconditional favours to that family, especially for those girls. You know what kind of rumours it could be. Then the family started avoiding him as if they had believed what people were saying around. Based on that hearsay, those girls were also started not to give importance to him. Some female relatives of them had also fuelled the matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Arpan stopped after telling that much. I realized what made him so upset. &amp;nbsp;I felt he might be emotionally attached with one of those 3 girls. Anyway it was my guess. Then he casually lifted his face upwards to the gloomy sky. He started shouting - “Hey God I have never ever sought anything from you, as I was quite happy for what I already have. But I wish that day not to come in my life seeing any woman face from that family not even from their family tree.”&amp;nbsp; I still can remember his red eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He left the town after few days and started living in some other town in job purpose. I was quite busy settling in Brisbane in my new job. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Months passed. My Mom called me and told me Arpan met with a road accident and he was in Hospital but out of danger. It was not possible for me to fly instantly back to home. I talked to his parents to assure if he was fine. His grief-stricken parents did not share much though. I was looking for opportunities to pay a visit back home. Nearly 2 months passed away. Meantime, I heard he would be soon released from Hospital.&amp;nbsp; I reached my home after flying all the way from Brisbane. It was coincidence that on the same day, Arpan was brought to home from hospital of the town where he was staying. I was about to enter his house. Few curious neighbors were also at their doorstep. Suddenly I saw those 3 girls and their mother were coming, of course to see Arpan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I was not in good mood. I started thinking now what Arpan will do. He had to face those Girls’ faces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;They entered in the room where Arpan was lying on Bed. I was not far behind of them. From certain angle over their heads, I could only see Arpan’s fractured leg in that instance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Suddenly, I got my answer what was peeping in mind just a while ago. God had fulfilled Arpan’s wish. He did not have to face those Girls’ faces. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I was unaware of it - Arpan lost both of his eyes in that road accident. His anguish turned to a wish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/6465148689325675910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/6465148689325675910?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6465148689325675910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6465148689325675910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2011/12/wish.html' title='A Wish'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-850295273001342372</id><published>2010-10-24T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T19:15:28.188-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Suicide"/><title type='text'>The Other Side of a Suicide</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Dated: October 24, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I was standing just behind the platform tea stall. It was platform no 6. Station was crammed full as compared to other days. This station is too big. You can go at any end of the nation from here by train. But here on this platform people were waiting for local train.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Suddenly my eyes halted on a just passed high school boy. At least his body language was describing that itself. He was sitting on a bench with a black bag in his lap. He was not doing anything but kept his chin down. I could not read his face properly, but noticed that he was shaking his legs. He might be tensed of something or simply impatient. Then I saw, he took out a piece of paper from his bag and wrote something on it. While writing on the paper, his face turned nearly red and hand was wobbly. Anyway, I could only assume either he was tensed or sick. Meanwhile, an announcement on air – “Train to Kashipur will be on platform 6 in five minutes”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Train was not on time - little later than its usual time. Meanwhile, now more people thronged on platform. The train was supposed to come from its car shed. People knew it would be vacant and there would be plenty of non-occupied seats. I saw train was coming. Suddenly, people stirred. Whosoever was sitting stood together as if they were obeying command of an Army Chief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Again my eyes were on the boy. It seemed he was limping little. He was also in position to board on the train. The train was now on platform. Speed was quite slow. Many crazy people were simply throwing themselves inside the train compartments just to occupy the seats in advance. Don’t expect the same from me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Suddenly I heard scream of a group of people. The boy jumped on railway track. The train now stopped. Crowd surrounded the whole spot. It seemed the boy was dead on the spot. I was not feeling well at that moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now the Police came to spot to take out the dead body from the track. It was quite an adventurous scene to many people around as the train was already on the track. Police started searching the bag expecting to have some clue about the boy’s identity. Many people were talking with each other asserting to a single point – “It’s a suicidal case”. Police men were of no exception. Now they were in search of suicidal note. Finally, they found a folded paper.&amp;nbsp; Was that suicidal note or something else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Some people already started overreacting for sake of curiosity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Readers, I left the place before police and public could conclude to a point - “It’s a suicidal case”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now on, you will hear from the person who died on the spot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Oh my God. What a terrible death I have just got. Do I deserve that? And what are the police searching in my pocket. So here they get my Coaching Class I-Card. They have already got the letter what Seema wrote to me. She has decided not to keep relation with me. How could you do this to me, Seema? Oh no. Two of the Police are reading Seema’s letter. They are looking at each other. Oh no.&amp;nbsp; They are interpreting it as suicidal case. That I have taken my own life in failure in love – based on Seema’s letter. I can’t imagine. Now they will reach to my house and meet my parents. And what will they inform? &amp;nbsp;Their son has suicided on railway track. How my Mom will react? What she will think knowing that there was a Girl naming Seema in my life. Whole colony and my friend circle will come to know that I have suicided and killed myself brutally. And it will be talk of the day for next couple of days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now the soul of my departed soul is on a sour note.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I cannot convince people personally that it was mere an accident. I did not suicide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;I wanted to get the door of train compartment. I wanted to get on board the compartment to occupy the seat in advance. But I misjudged the hollow space in between two compartments as door and jumped in hurry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/850295273001342372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/850295273001342372?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/850295273001342372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/850295273001342372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2010/10/other-side-of-suicide.html' title='The Other Side of a Suicide'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-1337612306539513380</id><published>2010-04-24T01:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T00:23:01.283-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adam"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eve"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>No Male Chauvinism - I Swear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Dated: April 24, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Eve sent the following mail to Adam. Actually she forwarded this mail she received in a chain. It was decorated by witty caricature also.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now let us see what the content of the mail was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To IMPRESS a Girl&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Cuddle her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Caress her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Love her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Comfort her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Protect her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Hold her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Spend money on her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Wine and dine her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Buy things for her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Listen to her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Care for her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Stand by her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Support her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Compliment her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Respect her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Honour her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Go to the ends of the Earth for her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To IMPRESS a Boy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;JUST SMILE ONCE AND HE&#39;S YOURS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;The mail ended here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now what comes in your mind? You may have grin on your face, may be you have found it quite realistic and funny too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Now let us see what exactly Adam replied to Eve’s mail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I AGREE …….I REPEAT I AGREE…. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;You know what!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Actually, sometime a Girl is so DUMB that a Boy needs to do A to Z to let her understand that he cares for her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;But, see in case of Boys. They always take less time to understand...Soooooo INTELLIGENT...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/1337612306539513380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/1337612306539513380?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1337612306539513380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1337612306539513380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-male-chauvinism-i-swear.html' title='No Male Chauvinism - I Swear'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-764582393696836873</id><published>2010-03-22T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2019-07-07T10:16:35.746-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conversation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Romantic"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Conversation Turns to Conversion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Dated: March 22, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Hi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Hi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: So finally you have sometime for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Don’t you think we talk quite frequently?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Yep and you are doing a great help to me by that, isn’t it? I’m so grateful to you dear!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He: What’s wrong? Anything happened?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Why do you think something has happened?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: I think you are not fine right now. Let’s talk later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: This is your habit of leaving when I talk to the point. All men are escapist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: You want to talk to me or not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: If I say “No” I know you’d happily leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: What&#39;s the matter?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: You know what? Sometimes I wonder why I am talking to you. I am forced to believe what my friends say about you to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: How come your friends talk about me? They don’t know me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Do I know you? Atleast they have open eyes. And I live with closed eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Ok ok…May I know the real matter now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Do you really CARE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: What’s wrong? Why are you behaving this way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Did I ask you some very difficult question? If you knew the answer you’d have told me or may be you don’t dare to tell that you don’t care. Because of you sometimes I feel that I don’t exist in this world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: So am I the new entry in the list of all problems you usually face?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Yep...You have become my biggest problem now. Somewhere back of my mind, I feel I have weakened emotionally as I love someone who cares the least for me, someone to whom I mean a zero. Yet I fail to love anyone else despite the fact that there are many who actually want to care for me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Just stop. How come you know that I don’t care? Your friends said this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: My friends advise me. I was a fool by not listening to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Why didn’t you listen to them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: You really wanted me to listen to them? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: what do you expect from me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: It’s not about expectations. I don’t expect from my family even. but at least CARE! Any human being would do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: I don’t understand your problem and I think you also don&#39;t understand it properly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: What are you made of man? I am saying you something and you already started stating your assumptions instead of thinking!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Do I need to tell you that I love and care for you? I guess you have that little common sense to realise the fact!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: I have many people around me who like me but I don’t ask them how much they care… You knw why? Because I don’t want to know. To me you mean more than anyone else but how much do I mean to you? My common sense has now failed after many attempts to “realise”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Hmm…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: Ask yourself, Do you really think about me even once in a day? I hope it&#39;s not just sheer laziness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: See, if you want to discontinue talking to me then you may please do so. That may make you happy. I think you have accumulated enough hatred for me. Now it’s all up to you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;SHE: What you just said, is a reflection of the present condition of our relationship. You don’t even try to look into a girl’s heart. You always avoid. I think the problem is with you. Your don’t want to talk to me properly. You never tried to understand me. You believed in your assumptions and ideas about me but never in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;You are so stony. Your heart is made of stone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;HE: Yes. That&#39;s very true. My heart is made of stone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;But I wonder you have never realised that I have engraved your name on this stony surface of my heart so that it will never ever wipe out itself or otherwise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot; , sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/764582393696836873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/764582393696836873?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/764582393696836873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/764582393696836873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2010/03/conversation-turrns-to-conversion.html' title='Conversation Turns to Conversion'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-2365627060235712014</id><published>2009-10-03T09:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2021-02-23T00:21:04.487-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Arts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Courier"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>The Courier Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot; style=&quot;text-align: left;&quot; trbidi=&quot;on&quot;&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;Dated: October 03, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmL1pZUKuxk-tO-ukB9G9cGdiP2sjtXNu5EuJTi5cLcnXODsfNEr3_1s6DwfWOiQP4xia9fW78_NR-K_8ZZRBmg7PbjZnmyI08jtu7f7abVBn9OncXkUU7uNYrUB7SMuhucXr_EOYylYTY/s2048/The+Courier+Boy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1367&quot; data-original-width=&quot;2048&quot; height=&quot;388&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmL1pZUKuxk-tO-ukB9G9cGdiP2sjtXNu5EuJTi5cLcnXODsfNEr3_1s6DwfWOiQP4xia9fW78_NR-K_8ZZRBmg7PbjZnmyI08jtu7f7abVBn9OncXkUU7uNYrUB7SMuhucXr_EOYylYTY/w579-h388/The+Courier+Boy.jpg&quot; width=&quot;579&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;Of course I have some identity, but I would like to introduce myself as an Invisible Camera, peeping in other’s life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;Last year, my focus was on a young boy from a nearby slum. After few days of observations, I reached to a conclusion that the poor lad was a courier boy, running a family of 6 including his sick and handicapped father. I also did not miss to notice that the boy used to come out from slum at 8 in the morning and used to return at 8 in the evening. And on some odd days he used to stand still before the City Art School raising his head aloft. May be, he wanted to be a painter, an artist or whatever but life had left him no choice except becoming a courier boy. Anyway, everyone should have a dream, but in his case I assumed his dream was dim and literally dammed up, of course poverty was the sole reason. How could he be a painter? I heard there were lot of expenses studying in that Art School and a bright future is not always guaranteed anywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;However on a certain day, I watched the boy entering art school in day time. But he had no courier bag with him but a role of old handmade papers. I realized that the boy was trying to get chance to enter the Art School. May be those papers were some samples of his artistic talent he could have nurtured at his home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;After few days, the boy started attending art classes I supposed, but only once or twice in a week. To my surprise, I never saw him carrying any bag or paint board or any kind of stationeries, an art school student was supposed to carry usually. Day by day, it seemed he was grooming and his costumes and outfits would tell you that there was some progress. I was quite snooping to discover if there was some financial aid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;One day I realized the truth underneath - it became like lucid air to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;verdana&amp;quot;;&quot;&gt;The poor boy entered the Art School keeping a faint hope that he might get an admission as a student. But on the very first day the Director of Art School lured him first and then convinced. They were badly in need of male nude model. The poor boy saw some firm hope of earning extra bucks in it rather struggling with poverty and dreaming to be a painter. Thus he continued visiting the Art School not as student but a nude model. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/2365627060235712014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/2365627060235712014?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/2365627060235712014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/2365627060235712014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2009/10/courier-boy.html' title='The Courier Boy'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmL1pZUKuxk-tO-ukB9G9cGdiP2sjtXNu5EuJTi5cLcnXODsfNEr3_1s6DwfWOiQP4xia9fW78_NR-K_8ZZRBmg7PbjZnmyI08jtu7f7abVBn9OncXkUU7uNYrUB7SMuhucXr_EOYylYTY/s72-w579-h388-c/The+Courier+Boy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-2982385287989650919</id><published>2007-12-19T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2021-02-23T00:25:06.361-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Anguish of A Beggar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;Dated: 19 December 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VomO7X559xWSToPW_gCJHz-ZULduMsSLFmfBXn3W98QfwOOAmZQE473TBsQb0kw6whUy9vQHDizcaUECukwm7aluLPwB4uCii2rGRkaQ5Tvd-9YevfkgkIpkNLF8Hgk_JzIY5MUGPE9j/s2048/Beggar.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1365&quot; data-original-width=&quot;2048&quot; height=&quot;393&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VomO7X559xWSToPW_gCJHz-ZULduMsSLFmfBXn3W98QfwOOAmZQE473TBsQb0kw6whUy9vQHDizcaUECukwm7aluLPwB4uCii2rGRkaQ5Tvd-9YevfkgkIpkNLF8Hgk_JzIY5MUGPE9j/w590-h393/Beggar.jpg&quot; width=&quot;590&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;Mumbai!!! A dream city…

Don’t ask my name. I am not any extraordinary, I am ordinary, but some day unknowingly I have been lost among very ordinaries.

I stepped in Mumbai just 27 Days back after getting my maiden job in a small MNC. It&#39;s a Law Firm. Our owner is an American and for last two days he is in Mumbai in a visit. It is our organization culture that every new employee gets a lavish dinner after joining. I have been expecting for my turn. Eventually, today afternoon I have come to know that our American boss has invited Satish, my colleague and me for dinner at evening in Hotel Oberoi. Hotel Oberoi is not too far from our office and our American Boss has been staying there since he came in Mumbai.

Right now, the time is 6:50 PM. My American boss is about to call a cab for the hotel and I take the initiative.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;After reaching there, it is our formality not to let our boss to give the cab fare, so I have just thought of paying Rs.50 as fare. But alas, I have the exact amount of Rs. 50 only in my wallet. Tomorrow is our salary day. I don’t want to borrow money from anybody else. If I spend this money how will I spend next 24 Hours in Mumbai?

I simply indicate Satish to pay the fare. Here we enter Hotel premises. This is such a place I have never ever visited before.

Right now the time is 8:45 PM. We have just finished our lavish dinner. Now we have to move out. Our boss bids us a good bye, but next moment he offers Three Hundred Rupees Notes to Satish. “Hey Man! You gave the cab fare, In America the cab fare could be 500 Bucks, take this money”. Now Satish is hesitating, but at last he takes the money.

Now we both are just on the road in front of the Hotel.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: verdana;&quot;&gt;I remember that in my school days we were supposed to read a Tagore’s poem.

In that poem, Almighty was in disguise of a King and asked for alms from a beggar. The puzzled beggar was undecided and gave least grain to the King. Later on, the beggar discovered a tiny gold grain in his wallet. He lamented over his deed as he missed the opportunity to make whole wallet full of gold grains.

I neither am a beggar nor is my boss a King. But thing is that, if I would have given the cab fare empting my wallet unconditionally I would have Rs. 300 later on. Suddenly I have found myself in the same situation the beggar had.
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/2982385287989650919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/2982385287989650919?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/2982385287989650919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/2982385287989650919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/12/anguish-of-beggar.html' title='Anguish of A Beggar'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VomO7X559xWSToPW_gCJHz-ZULduMsSLFmfBXn3W98QfwOOAmZQE473TBsQb0kw6whUy9vQHDizcaUECukwm7aluLPwB4uCii2rGRkaQ5Tvd-9YevfkgkIpkNLF8Hgk_JzIY5MUGPE9j/s72-w590-h393-c/Beggar.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-1325027223961731583</id><published>2007-10-09T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T23:53:13.446-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>A Loser or a Winner</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author:Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Verdana;&quot;&gt;Dated:09 October 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;It is not necessary to introduce myself at beginning of this story. It is not necessary to know whether I am telling the truth or misinterpreting otherwise. You could pause if you don’t like. I won’t mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not an avid net user, but there was a girl passionate of web net. Don’t ask me how I started chatting with her over net. The best part was that she belongs to the city where my root lives a lame life. I found the girl as under-age and at the same time she was crazy about web net, and above all chatting with strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was idiot, no wonder; I have never had a chance to talk to a girl so openly. I have been always reserved, shy and hesitate while talking to any girl. This time my motto was something else. I wanted that Girl to put on right track. I was scared that this girl could be trapped by some strangers, some cyber-bullies some day. I tried my luck to be triumphant in pulling the girl out of cursed web. I started advising her on each front of net using in positive manner. On parallel, I started to listen to her every words carefully – her daily dismal domestic stories. A disgruntled teenager was always annoyed with her surroundings. There were so many, you don’t need to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not really want that she would believe or follow my each word. I was stranger to her - totally unknown. I did not want her to be in any trap of false words and promises from a stranger. After a span of 9 Months an unpleasant truth was born. Actually, the Girl started liking me, which was near to crush or love with a stranger whom she had never met. Suddenly I found myself as a loser as I failed to pull the Girl out of her bad habits on net. At the same time, I found that the girl was in love with me, me a shy character – somehow I was able to win her heart. The cause might be my honesty, my humble and modest talks and lastly my handsome look on a snap on the chat box. Though I believe that such emotion does not mean anything in real sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I consider myself? A Loser or a Winner?&lt;br /&gt;You decide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/1325027223961731583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/1325027223961731583?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1325027223961731583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1325027223961731583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/10/looser-or-winner.html' title='A Loser or a Winner'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-6181161153047719239</id><published>2007-04-01T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T01:52:57.262-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Unconvincing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author:Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Verdana;&quot;&gt;Dated :2 April 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Hello Alok.&lt;br /&gt;I am not fine.This evening,a minor accident happened to me.I got 10 stitches on my left thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very unlucky.Take care dear. See you soon.Me too in Hospital as my brother was just about to die today in a road accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello Bipasha.&lt;br /&gt;I am not fine.This evening,a minor accident happened to me.I got 10 stitches on my left thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very unlucky.Take care dear .See you soon.Me too in Hospital as my father got a mild heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello Tarun.&lt;br /&gt;I am not fine.This evening,a minor accident happened to me.I got 10 stitches on my left thumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vey unlucky.Take care dear.See you soon.Me too in Hospital as my wife is about to deliver a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alok has no brother.&lt;br /&gt;Bipasha&#39;s father expired long time back.&lt;br /&gt;Tarun has got married just two months back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 1 st April.Over telephone,I failed to convince them a fact and they were all fooling me around from their end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/6181161153047719239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/6181161153047719239?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6181161153047719239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/6181161153047719239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/04/unconvincing.html' title='Unconvincing'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-3387484173473554041</id><published>2007-03-29T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T23:26:33.773-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Where Wonder and No Wonder Mean the Same</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Dated: 30 March 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She:&lt;/strong&gt; He did everything he could do for me and those were all quite feasible for him to do. He was a nice guy. I liked him, but not really felt committed or felt affection for. There were some hesitations from both sides but still it grew in a restless manner. He never ever offered any gift to me, not even shared a solitary word that could pledge some relationship to be prolonged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I am engaged to a new guy and he has truly shown some vow to me in order to build an assured life. It is total &lt;strong&gt;wonder&lt;/strong&gt; to me as how I could put the first guy out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He:&lt;/strong&gt; I did everything I could do for her and those were all quite feasible for me to do. She was a nice girl. I liked her, but not really felt committed or felt affection for. There were some hesitations from both sides but still it grew in a restless manner. She never ever demanded any gift from me, not even shared a solitary word that could pledge some relationship to be prolonged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, she is engaged to a new guy and he has truly shown some vow to her in order to build an assured life. It is &lt;strong&gt;no wonder&lt;/strong&gt; to me as I could carry out only impotent relationship all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/3387484173473554041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/3387484173473554041?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/3387484173473554041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/3387484173473554041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/03/where-wonder-and-no-wonder-mean-same.html' title='Where Wonder and No Wonder Mean the Same'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-1150058353024361737</id><published>2007-03-25T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T09:23:47.910-08:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Glitters like Stars even being Star-crossed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Dated: 25 March 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Prakash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For last six months, I have been searching for a Job, but in vain. I know sales job are easily available if you have your own conveyance. But I have never felt good to go for it. But at last I have had to kneel down before the situation and recently I have purchased a second hand bike to get Sales job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I have been offered a good back-office job luckily – pay is good and above all they are providing Cab facility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Kishore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For last six months, I have been planning to purchase a Computer for personal purpose to learn something which might help me in future in my career. My financial condition has never been too good. I never thought that someday I could have to stretch my hand to someone else for money.&lt;br /&gt;But at last I have had to kneel down before the situation and recently I have purchased a computer after borrowing hefty amounts from few of my closed friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, in my office I am informed that I am promoted to middle level and they will provide me a Laptop soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is Kaushal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For last six months, I have been in love with a girl, a real beauty and moreover an intelligent. Even I have proposed her but for some reasons she has declined. As usual, my parents have started pressurizing me to get married to a girl of their choice who is totally stranger to me. I hate hurting my parents. At last I have had to kneel down before the situation and recently I have got married to that girl as per my parents’ choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I am going to meet the girl whom I loved once though I am loyal to my wife. Now the girl feels how inevitable and wonderful I am in her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My full name is Prakash Kishore Kaushal. Every time my fate has been crossed by stars and equally has glittered like stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/1150058353024361737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/1150058353024361737?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1150058353024361737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1150058353024361737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/03/glitters-like-stars-even-being-star.html' title='Glitters like Stars even being Star-crossed'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-4040673270143575150</id><published>2007-03-24T05:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T00:59:31.899-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Treachery of All Times</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;br /&gt;Dated : 24 March 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night, the boy was talking to his Mom over phone. His Mom was telling that she was making Fried Chops sitting in the kitchen. She continued…She was expecting her little child looking with impatient eyes and standing behind her. How little was he in his Mom’s imagination? His eyes were about to drip water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next evening, the same boy was sitting among friends in a restaurant. There were few acquaintances also. In a conversation on food stuffs, the boy wanted to prove himself unmatched among all. He shared that he did not like any home made food but sometime he loved to visit restaurant. He asserted that his Mom was not a good cook at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/4040673270143575150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/4040673270143575150?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4040673270143575150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4040673270143575150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/03/treacher-of-all-times.html' title='Treachery of All Times'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-1154221247060586630</id><published>2007-01-26T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T01:43:58.716-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>It Ended Like That</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;br /&gt;Dated: 26 January 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a boy in a small town. There was a girl at the next door. The boy was not bold but the girl was a real beauty. The boy started staring on the girl without catching her attention. So did the girl. The boy did not share any words on that to his local friends, was quite aloof. Same could be said on that girl. The boy moved to a metropolis for higher studies. The girl moved to another metropolis for the same. But their family was still a neighbour to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy started studying on Computers. The girl took Arts in her academics. The boy never forgot the fact the girl was her first love. Eventually, the girl used to think that something was incomplete between them. But, they both never knew that they often thought about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passed. Now both were in jobs. The boy was associated with some Software company and the girl was associated with a Newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy always took every option to figure out her whereabouts and someday he succeeded. He got her e-mail id in the alumni list of her last college. He took a chance to send a mail to her on her birthday – a surprise mail from alias mail ID. He sent the mail addressing the girl with her surname, which was quite uncommon, but not the first name and also he did not spend any words on Birthday Wish. He just copied few lines from a beautiful poem and just added some lines asking her whereabouts and current life. At end of body of the message, he used an alias name. The name was quite singular and rare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy started waiting for reply of that mail. He even felt doubt whether the message reached to that girl or not. He just wished the girl would read the mail, but not really expected any reply. Still he waited for weeks, for months and a New Year came, but no reply. And one day, the boy came to know from his old local friends in course of casual conversation that the girl would be going to get married very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl got married on time. The boy left the country and did not show any interest thinking on that girl. The girl led a happy married life. After one year, the girl delivered a baby boy. She wanted to get a name for that new-born baby. She remembered the mail she received on her 23 Th Birthday. She did not know who that sender was exactly but she liked the name very much. Everybody accepted that name and blessed the new-born baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thereafter the boy kept contacting to his parental house very often and no contact at all with his old local friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readers, the twist was that the boy never came to know that his mail was actually read by the girl and the girl never came to know who the sender was actually, but liked the name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/1154221247060586630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/1154221247060586630?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1154221247060586630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/1154221247060586630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2007/01/it-ended-like-that.html' title='It Ended Like That'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2098035103969962516.post-4830132223151162016</id><published>2006-10-09T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T22:11:43.038-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Short Story"/><title type='text'>Different Strokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:verdana;&quot;&gt;Author: Sham Saha&lt;br /&gt;Dated: 09 October 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A doctor having 2-year of experience.. Earned enough recognition in his locality.. One night a rickshaw puller came to his chamber...He told that his little boy was sick, bed-ridden...And he also disclosed that he was very poor and could not afford Doctor&#39;s fee..It would be Doctor&#39;s mercy if he would visit his child....The Doctor said No.. Without money he could not see any patient. Next morning the boy died....The locality came to know that only for money the Doctor refused to see the sick boy...Everybody started saying that &quot;The Doctor is cruel and inhuman&quot;, but all sitting in their own home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another doctor having 2-year of experience..Earned enough recognition in his locality..One night a rickshaw puller came to his chamber...He told that his little boy was sick, bed-ridden...And he also disclosed that he was very poor and could not afford Doctor&#39;s fee..It would be Doctor&#39;s mercy if he would visit his child....The Doctor said &quot;Yes Yes&quot;.. &quot;What are we waiting for?&quot;..&quot;Money is not all&quot;..&quot; Let&#39;s go and see what the best I could do&quot;...The Boy was in serious condition.. The Doctor tried hard whole night...Next morning the boy died...The locality came to know that it was Doctor&#39;s &quot;Negligence&quot; that took the Boy&#39;s life...The crowd rushed to the Doctor&#39;s chamber and smashed....Eventually, the poor rickshaw puller collected enough money from here and there and lodged a case against the Doctor in the local court.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;Short Stories&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/feeds/4830132223151162016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2098035103969962516/4830132223151162016?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4830132223151162016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2098035103969962516/posts/default/4830132223151162016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shamsaha.blogspot.com/2006/10/different-strokes.html' title='Different Strokes'/><author><name>Sham Saha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00267456684780436143</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge28PXjGPlekA5PRUSNGdMUnW2FzHUlh0QcaCiKmuS5q7xMpBlpWcippNXE10bjN-qxdFhTcPSZzpVw-o5Es2lDtuMl-ZykdsU9mGplncD-lk2RLzseVEn87LSQAMFUI/s220/Sham2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>