Disclaimer: This story is part of the #TornadoGiveaway posts by The Book Club and has been published as-is, in its unedited form on Tell-A-Tale.
One never knows when and how luck might knock on the door. Ruchira Khanna writes about luck in this short story.
“What is this?” asked the editor with a contorted nose as he crumpled the page and aimed at the bin.
Heer stared at the whole reaction in bewilderment but thanked himself for saving the document prior to publishing.
Before being asked to work on something else, he got up and walked towards the exit door. That action confused the publisher, but he paid no heed to his dismissal by uttering, “Whatever!” and got back to work.
Heer sat down with a massive pout in his cubicle. Clicked print on the previously wrinkled document that was jeered at by his boss. Typed something furiously, and hit Sent.
In a few minutes, he heard a distant “Crap.” Saved all his work on the USB drive. Walked to the HR and asked them to send his dues to his address, and walked from the building without looking back.
While walking briskly with no aim in mind, his kolhapuri chappals hit a sharp pebble that led to one of his toe bleed. Made him pause. He sat on a bench of a tea stall while mending his foot part and humming a tune that was unknown to the universe. A local heard the song, and was mesmerized, and concentrated hard on it while sipping his beverage. Once the toe was nursed, he started his tread and just then he heard the local shout-out to him.
Curious, Heer turned back and was stunned when he was asked to hum the tune again.
“No! You are not my boss!” came his instant reply and walked off. After a few steps, he realized he did not have a boss, amused, paused and turned towards the local who was still shocked by his response.
“I could sing if you treat me to a cup of tea.”
The local agreed.
Time was traveling leisurely. Heer had nowhere to go, so he hardly paid attention to his watch. Soon a crowd gathered, and the tea owner interrupted the local with the bill. The local slyly pushed it into the singer’s bag while nodding to the tune. While continuing to do so, he sneaked away with the pretext of using the bathroom.
Heer did not pay much heed to him since he had an audience that was also humming along.
Minutes ticked by the local did not return, and the shop owner demanded his payment. That interrupted Heer’s singing. He made the payment but did not deserve this! His eyes were moist since he was tricked, but soon he pulled out a sheet of paper and started to scribble something, and eventually felt better.
The audience got interrupted, and one of them sneaked a look at the journal and announced loudly, “He writes too!”
“Yes, I am a writer. Singing is just a hobby.” Heer said with glee.
“What do you write?” came a candy coated query from a distance. Heer had to glare against the sun that was setting to catch a sight of this voice.
She repeated. With twitched eyes and staring at the direction of the voice, “I write fiction stories.”
Paused, “Would you like me to read one?” he inquired with his gaze fixed in that direction while keeping his fingers crossed.
Before that familiar voice could respond, the audience pitched in, “Yes, Yes.”
Heer started his narration. People were as engrossed as the time when he was singing.
When climax hit, he could hear sniffs. He was tempted to look up and browse through the crowd and find that soul who inquired about his writing, but did not want to break the chain of thoughts of his audience thus, continued.
Once finished. He saw people on the floor cheering loudly for him. He was elated. Looked around for that voice, but did not hear any. A little dejected, he got up slowly to start his journey home. Just then someone tapped his shoulder; he was quick to turn around. The face seemed familiar, but he could not recognize it. A smile crossed his lips when she cleared her throat to say something.
“Aha! this is that voice!” he muttered.
“The story has potential.” She paused for a bit, “would you like to complete it and submit to my office for a re-evaluation?”
Heer’s eyes were wide as if someone was extracting a cavity from his mouth, but he was equally confused.
“Hi, I am Ekta Kapoor, and I am a producer.” she extended her hand towards him.
“Say no further. I have been watching your serials since a teen.” Heer staggered but quickly gained control and reached out for her hand while happy that luck struck thanks to his kolhapuri chappals.
About The Author
Ruchira Khanna
Just another soul trying to make a difference in this lifetime by juggling between my passion and responsibilities. A Biochemist turned Writer who draws inspiration from various sources and tries to pen them down to create awareness within her and the society. Published a novel in 2013, which peeps into every one’s daily life named, “Choices” Her children’s book came out in 2014, The adventures of Alex and Angelo for which she got thumbs up from Kirkus Reviews. One of her story got included in a published anthology, The Turning point of Life, in 2014. The Lonely Wish Giver, a novel that includes work of ~299 writers from 27 countries. We all got together to write a group novel for NaNoWriMo. Frozen by Fire, a novel written by ~ 499 writers from 54 countries. Another fiction novel coming up this year. A Reiki Master in her spare time where she passes out information about channeling universal energy and conducts sessions.
If you want to win her book
CHOICES
try the #TornadoGiveaway organised by The Book Club
or check out the Rafflecoper below.
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