English Story
* Wonders of Nature* Where is serenity? Or where is humanity ? Where is energy? Or where is destiny? Where is melody? Or where is poetry? Where is captivating song ? Or where is throbbing passion ? Where is rain? Or
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My Wish I want to be a natural poet like you But always fail to make me such a great quill ! Don’t know how you give waves in your words , Uplifting you self to the spiritual poetic place. Only I
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The Donkey and the Dog In a certain jungle,there lived a kind-hearted donkey.He had to hide inside a cave.His mother had lost him in the jungle when he was very young.Every moment he lived in constant fear of death.The jungle abounded with
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THE UNFINISHED JOURNEY OF A CONSERVATOR It was a winter afternoon in the month of December. A chilly overcast day. The captivating clouds were sliding over the bright blue sky. The brisk winds were blowing wild. The coconut and mango trees stood
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God Takes Away The Best First. It was month of June. Schools and colleges have just reopened after scorching summer holiday. Sadananda, a high school going lad of our village was eagerly waiting for the rain to fall as a thirsty skylark
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THE STORY OF AN UNSUNG HERO The moth hour in the evening passed away from the hamlet’s sight. Calmness and silence slowly pervaded every nook and corner of the village. Shadows of darkness was covering across the post dusk celestial sphere. The
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THE TALE OF CURSED ANGLES It was the day of festival of love and colours. The dawn descended with the sweet and shrill notes of moths and insects tuning and turning into musical early morning chorus. The rising Sun was glimmering in
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A dragon fly . ……………………………………….. It was my early childhood when i was being forced to go to school with bag on sholder .with tearful eyes ,i used to look back intermittently expecting a call from my Bou : “Come back .you
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AN EARLY MORNING CROW It is moth hour in the morning. A group of crow perched on the straw thatched roof of Linga Baya’s cottage , cawing ceaselessly to arouse him from sleep as an awakening clock ringing on the top of
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DIGGING ONE’S OWN GRAVE Ramakanta babu just came from the hospital after receiving the first dose of chemo drug inserted through a tube with a needle into the vein of his arm. His liver was severely damaged by taking alcohol heavily for
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THE POETIC JUSTICE Suuu….Suuu…, Ruuu…Ruuu.. Binayak babu is trying to call the names of his daughter- in- laws in slurred voice. The infirmity he suffers from today is not congenital but he acquired the disability five years ago due to a
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Contents The Premature Burial The Oblong Box Mystification The Sphinx The Spectacles The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether The Premature Burial THERE are certain themes of which the interest is all-absorbing, but which are too entirely horrible for the purposes
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AN ESSAY ON THE MATERIAL AND SPIRITUAL UNIVERSE. IT is with humility really unassumed—it is with a sentiment even of awe— that I pen the opening sentence of this work: for of all conceivable subjects I approach the reader with the most
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For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet mad am
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Dogs are not our whole life but they make lives whole. ~ Roger Caras. My greyhound dog, Wolf, greeted me with her usual ‘wolf smile’ and happy dance around me when I came home from church one evening. Large, fast swags of
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“It’s so good to have you home, Beth!” Sheryl cooed as they walked through the front doors of the house Beth had grown up in. “I was so worried you’d never wake from your coma, and the doctors didn’t have any idea
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They already took my left arm and I guess my right’s going next. Every eyeball I see drips with pity. They know that it’s not stopping there. Pity and shame, guilt – cursing themselves for calling it like they see it. Calling
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Every Sunday morning I take a light jog around a park near my home. There’s a lake located in one corner of the park. Each time I jog by this lake, I see the same elderly woman sitting at the water’s edge
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It was a wonderful night, such a night as is only possible when we are young, dear reader. The sky was so starry, so bright that, looking at it, one could not help asking oneself whether ill-humoured and capricious people could live
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The giant teddy bear chases after Mash and Bran. It will stop at nothing to catch them. They run round trees, while it runs through them. Breaking them apart. It stops and picks up one of the huge trees then throws it
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