write a short story with twist ending....
pl pl
Answers
Explanation:
And finally I was in the ‘Soul Park’ . I didn’t know what was so special about that park but one of my colleagues told that he always got some content from there.
May be everyone there was full of stories or soulful as the park.
Well, I found a bench from where I could observe people from “reporter’s eye”. A girl was sitting there with her full focus on a group of kids playing football. She was an average looking girl, thin and wheatish , dressed up in jeans and kurti (most favourite, I think ,in the age of early twenties).
‘Its a beautiful morning , looking more beautiful with such cute kids spreading their innocence’, I initiated the conversation with a broad smile.
‘Hmm’ is all she said without even smiling.
‘How rude and full of attitude’ I thought and got busy in search of my story.
After about 15 minutes, a boy of almost 7-8 years came to her. I thought he must be her brother or nephew.
She cleaned his face with a handkerchief and gave him water bottle .
‘Thank you mumma’ , the boy said as sweetly as he could with a cute smile.
I wanted to see her smile but I couldn’t look at her after her rude response (I could be misunderstood – girls, you know).
I suddenly realised he called her “mumma”.
‘You look so young. No one can say you are the mother of this cute kid . You don’t look like married woman even.‘ I said out of surprise.
She didn’t say anything, but her expressions did. The way she looked at me , I felt like hiding myself. No, she was not angry but she had something in her eyes.
I regretted my words.
The woman (what if she looks young, she is a mother of a 7-8 years boy) and the kid walked towards exit. She was still in her silent mode and the boy was telling her something interesting (I could say reading his body language). I saw them going.
After about half an hour my “reporter’s eyes” got tired. I didn’t get anything . Cursing my colleague I stood up to leave, when I saw a handbag there. At first I thought not to get insulted again , but the gentleman inside me convinced me to deliver it to the rude girl.
I reached there in about five minutes and handed over the bag to her when she opened the door after a few knocks.
This time she spoke two words “Thank you” without smiling( heights of rudeness).
I saw the boy from the half opened gate , engaged in some game with waterbottles and again started guessing the age of girl ( oh! I said her girl again) . She looked young and better than average with something strange in her eyes. A thought came in my mind which made my eyes shine(I still couldn’t read hers).
‘Could you please get me some water? ‘ I asked her , even though I was not thirsty.
‘Sure’, a one word reply again. She went in without even asking me to come in, out of courtesy(I got her the bag , afterall).
‘Yes , I got the story ‘ . I mumbled out of happiness. It was surely a case of child marriage and I could get the spicy content from this silent girl(though it would be no easier than climbing mountain) .
I needed a story. It was really necessary for my sinking career. So I put my “manners” at stake and stepped in. It was a one BHK separate portion of a multistorey old house.
She came back and her face said clearly that she didn’t like my coming in. She was uncomfortable . I ignored. (You can think I am selfish. I’ll ignore that too.)
Hope this helps you.
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