Bondy’s seedy affair (a short story)

Bondy's seedy affair

Bondy had lied. He lied to his mother that he had not eaten the big mango from the dinner table. Using his famed dramatics he managed to convince his mother. The tears, the strained emotions that he managed to force through to his expressions seemed to have worked the magic. And yes, he was adept in his psychomotors as well. He was quick to pick up the huge mango seed that he had carefully hidden from his mum, rush to his windowsill and flung it high and far away into the nearby woods, so there was left no evidence at home. None knew that it was he who had eaten that forbidden mango. All had been taken care of, he thought as he slipped into a disturbed slumber.

Suddenly, a groggy Bondy was woken up to a very surprising scene. He was stunned by what he saw. Next to his windowsill stood two trees. And a gardener stood by. The trees had the appearance of a mango tree, but yet looked different. Stumbling he walked towards the windowsill to take a closer look at them.

The tree that was closest had discoloured, withered leaves. The fruits thereof were unappealing and ugly to look at. Worms seemed to crawl everywhere. And very strangely the tree’s shade also seemed to have a poisonous effect. Death seemed to walk boldly around the tree. It was a ghastly sight. Looking at the question on Bondy’s face, the gardener called out to him, “Ahoy Bondy! Wondering which tree is this? Well, a tree is known by its seed. A mango seed will always bring forth mango fruits, an apple seed will always bring forth apples and likewise. A rotten seed will bring forth rottenness and not any good will come out of it. Watch out for the seed boy!”

Bondy quickly turned to look at the seed of the tree. Beneath the ground, the tree’s seed name was labelled in huge letters. It was titled, “LIE”. He then searched for the fruits. Each of the fruits of the “LIE” tree were named, ‘fear’, ‘guilt’, ‘coward’, ‘trickster’, ‘cheater’, ‘sorrow’, ‘crime’, etc. There were many more of the likes. His attention specially was caught by one of the biggest fruits on the tree that was titled, ‘father of all lies’. Bondy gulped the discomfort and fear that seemed to envelope him now.

Not liking the experience with the tree that was closer, he craned to get a better view of the tree that was at the farthest corner. Now it was very soothing and quite a treat to watch that tree!

The trunk of that tree was sturdier and a lot healthier although with bruises here and there. The tree was beautiful, with glistening green leaves, mouth-watering, luscious fruits. Chirping birds had made their abode in it. Many travellers moved around in its shade. Life was teeming around this tree. He remembered the gardener’s voice and turned to learn about the seed. And there beneath the ground, the tree’s seed was labelled in huge letters titled, “TRUTH”. He then searched for the fruits. Each of the fruits were named as, ‘bold’, ‘fearless’, ‘peace’, ‘persistent’, and many more. His attention was caught by one of the biggest fruits on the tree that was labelled, ‘the truth shall set you free’. Amazingly, Bondy felt at peace and heard the gardener shout back, “What you sow, so shall you reap. Invest in good seeds, keep off the evil ones and you shall live, Bondy!”

Just when he decided to pluck the largest fruit off the “TRUTH” tree, his mum’s loud call woke up Bondy from his dream. He quickly rushed out of his house in search of the mango seed he had stealthily thrown away last evening. On finding the seed he picked it up with a determination to confess the truth. He knew he could get a hard beating. But he almost heard the gardener saying, “Tough corrections today are better than the irreparable consequences or tasteless fruits later”.

Bondy felt liberated and alive now and was glad to have met the gardener in his dream.

Good news, fellas! Only women are required to be modest, apparently.

Precious Awakening:

I’ve long heard debates on this topic of ‘modesty’ but nothing so fittingly put across! Good read…and it blessed me!

Originally posted on The Matt Walsh Blog:

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I feel scandalized.

I was scrolling my Facebook newsfeed (there’s my first mistake) and suddenly my eyes were viciously assaulted by immodest and improper images that had been posted by someone clearly begging for attention; some shameless floozy selfishly attempting to enflame lust and covetousness in the heart of the unsuspecting viewer.

I should mention that the person in the images was a man, and he was, mercifully, fully clothed.

In fact, the focus of the photo wasn’t even a person at all. My Facebook ‘friend’ had posted a picture of his expensive new boat. I know that it was expensive, because he alluded to the steep price in the caption, saying that he has the ‘best wife in the world’ because she ‘actually let [him] buy this.’

You see what he did there (besides insinuating that the value of his spouse depends on her cooperation with his desire to purchase pricey recreational equipment)? Lest you accuse him of being uncouth, he cloaked his boast in a compliment of his ‘best wife,’ which means…

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My New Year’s Resolution – To Get A Divorce

Precious Awakening:

Lovely post…three months down, but still a great resolution to stick with in this ‘not-so-old’ year of 2014! I’ve re-blogged this awesome post from Lesley Carter’s . I’m going for it…check it out!

Originally posted on Bucket List Publications:

Samsung Texting

I’ve been cheating on Darren for almost two years and it’s time I admit it to myself and the world. It’s with someone who’s a reliable, funny, genius and never leaves me feeling lost. But if you’re thinking, “What a ‘….'”, give me a minute to explain because I think you’ve been cheating too and it’s time we get a divorce.

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Bondy goes fishing (a short story)

Here’s a sample from my first, self-published book titled, “Grandma, Tell Me More!” This post includes the first story from this book. To ensure optimal file size, I’ve used a blend of texts and images for an effective rendering of this blog post. Please share your reading experience at the end of this blog post.

You may also visit the following link for a flip-book reading experience:

He would giggle on purpose when someone slipped or fell. He would draw funny pictures of students and paste these picture papers on the wall or benches in the class forcing everyone to burst into laughter. When students found their lunch boxes exchanged, they’d know at once who was at work. Friends tripping off tangled shoelaces would not be surprised about the mastermind. Bondy’s sinister laughter rang out loud after each mishap.

Bondy enjoyed troubling others and laughing at their mistakes. This seemed to justify people resenting him. He urged his classmates to include him in the group events. But none wanted him. Moreover, Bondy being short he was not keen to participate in the racing events. He eventually had to settle down for the fishing tournament as a lone contender from grade four. Least effort he thought. He had no idea about fishing other than the fishing scenes he had watched in the zillion or so cartoon programs.

“All the very best, my little brother”, pepped Guindy as they alighted the bus at the school, “And do not trouble anyone today”. Bondy shrugged off the daily remark and didn’t bother to respond. He trudged with his heavy bag and a heart that surprisingly seemed much heavier today.

It was the last day of sports today. All the major events were over. The school had witnessed a much fiercer competition this year, but sadly, grade four had not won any prize. With Bondy representing grade four in the fishing tournament, today did not promise much hope for them.

Soon after the assembly bell rang, students from each grade proceeded towards the school’s backyard pond. It was the school’s heritage property.


To earn the local support, the school also charted out schedules for outsiders to visit the pond. No doubt the pond was a charm not only for the school but for the neighbourhood as well, thus luring the entire town. But for today, Bondy was lured to wish the pond would vanish along with the fishes, bushes and the breeze.

After the spectators settled down, it was time for the contestants to enter the arena. As the names were announced, the corresponding grade students shrieked out cheers, whistles and released thunderous claps into the sunny mid-morning air. The pond seemed to echo the cheers right back. Each contestant picked up the school-provided tackles and proceeded to the arena. Bondy wished the nearing-noon sun would scorch the pond as well. His wishful thoughts were snapped as he heard the volunteers shouting slogans to advertise their eateries. These were senior students selling water cans, popcorn cups, caps and fancy whistles.

“And finally, put your hands together for Bondy who is here to represent grade four”, screeched the loudspeaker. Bondy picked up the tackle that included fishing line, caperlan net, hooks and baits. With a heave and a sigh he lugged himself into the arena. All he could hear was the popcorn volunteers’ sale chants. No claps, no whistles and no cheers! Bondy looked at the stand where grade four students were seated. He limply waved at his classmates and spotted a few half-hearted hands waving back. Did that seem to lighten his heavy heart a bit? Not quite sure. He sure had earned hatred. Will he get a chance to rectify? He felt miserable. He was anyway trapped for three hours till the competition lasted.


However, there was no action in Bondy’s camp. For almost an hour his bait went unnoticed. And when his bait finally seemed to get noticed, the fishes pulled at his line as well. Whenever he felt a tug, in a frenzy he would draw out the fishing line only to notice the hook without the bait. He would then fix another bait and release it back into the pond. Alas, there was no fish caught and no one to notice or cheer him in his camp!

At the end of two hours, Bondy still hadn’t caught any fish and his baits had almost come to an end. Nevertheless, the show must go on till it lasts. As he released his last bait into the pond, one of the volunteers reached out to him with a large cup of popcorn and a folded piece of paper. “Your classmates and teacher from grade four have sent this note and popcorn for you”, smilingly said the volunteer. With the fishing line in one hand, he reached out for the note with the other. The clueless Bondy unfolded the note to read one of the finest ever words of comfort and encouragement:


Tears welled in Bondy’s eyes. That note meant the world to him. For all his pranks, his classmates should have scorned and mocked at him just as he loved to. He was ashamed of his mean behavior. Despite his meanness, his classmates stood by him. This seemed like another chance that he needed. “It would be sad if I did not mend my ways at least now”, Bondy thought to himself. He decided never to laugh at others’ mistakes, never to scorn or mock others. Quite strangely and suddenly, he felt like a winner despite not having caught a single fish. His friends’ acceptance had won his heart. Boy, did that burden roll off his heart! It seemed quite so light now.

“Be quick. Here, take your cup of popcorn. It’s the last twenty minutes left now. Just hurry up, I have other things to do as well”, shouted the volunteer. Holding the fishing line in one hand and the precious note in the other, Bondy found it cumbersome to suddenly multitask. Seeing Bondy struggle with too many things, the busy volunteer placed the extra-large cup of popcorn on the iron fence that enclosed Bondy’s seat at the edge of the pond.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the heavens had switched their attention, now focusing on Bondy. The morning breeze swished and gently swooshed the huge cup of popcorns. Splosh! Plop and plop fell the cup and with it all the popcorns right into the pond. The hundreds of corns bobbing on the surface of the water at Bondy’s camp seemed to have triggered a visual siren in the fish kingdom below. Within minutes Bondy’s camp was filled with fishes all lunging at the popcorns.




Painful yet gainful gifting (a short story)

Chanchal and Gulgul

Once upon a time, there were two close friends named, Chanchal and Gulgul. Chanchal was a frisky butterfly and she loved the sunshine, prancing from one pretty flower to another. She cherished the openness of the fields and the strong aromatic nectar that lured her for a hearty meal. Gulgul, a tough piece of jaggery, on the other hand feared melting away in the sun and so preferred the cool shade of his small yet neat home inside the hollow of a sturdy Banyan tree.

Chanchal would sit on a branch closest to Gulgul’s entrance and chat away with him. Gulgul waited to hear the soft chirping of his friend Chanchal. They loved each other’s company; but alas, they could not be together! Chanchal hated darkness and so never visited Gulgul’s house. Gulgul on the other hand feared sunshine and was content hearing his friend’s voice from within his home than being scorched in the sun’s heat outside. Because of the reservations, theirs was a restricted friendship.

Seeing their plight, the wise old Banyan tree decided to do his bit. He began counselling Chanchal and Gulgul individually. He advised them to bring a unique gift for each other. The gift should focus on helping the receiver overcome the reservation, if not completely, at least bit by bit. Both loved the idea and thought about working on their secret gift.

A few weeks passed by. One fine sunny morning, Gulgul woke to the shrill chirps of his dear friend. She had left a gift at his door and was asking him to step out to take it. Fretting away, Gulgul tried to play it easy. Excitedly he thanked his friend and further said that he too had a gift for Chanchal and so she must come inside to take a look. The wise old Banyan tree sensed reluctance on either side. “Oh! That’s another problem now”, thought the Banyan tree. He quickly joined their conversation and told them that friendship many times requires sacrifices and the stronger one should usually take the first step. After a while, Chanchal bravely announced she will take the initiative and go in to meet Gulgul. Gulgul’s joy knew no bounds.

As soon as Chanchal entered the house, she had a wonderful surprise. Dear Gulgul had made some adjustments in his house to make Chanchal feel comfortable. He had chiselled a wee bit of hole atop for a thin ray of sunlight and cool breeze to streak inside. This would not harm Gulgul much. Further, he had a mirror placed opposite the entrance of his house. He had gone out of his way to find that old, huge mirror from his attic and wiped it clean. Standing inside his house, Chanchal saw a reflection of the outside, beautiful and bright world. She felt so much at home now! She could not thank Gulgul enough. She hugged him and sang a beautiful song for him. Then happily she brought forth her gift. She placed the gift on Gulgul’s head. Gulgul suddenly felt as if the temperature drastically fell to a pleasant coolness. Chanchal had made a colourful hat-umbrella of many petals and dried leaves. Wasn’t that cool! The scars on Chanchal’s delicate wings spoke a lot about her efforts in making the hat-umbrella. Gulgul now had a strange boldness to step out in the sun. Without Chanchal’s asking, he ran outside and called out to her to join him.

Both the friends enjoyed their wonderful times together now. Neither sunshine nor darkness could confine their friendship. As Gulgul and Chanchal set out for a stroll into the vast open fields, the wise old Banyan tree smiled and shouted out to them, “Neither the hat nor the mirror is the gift guys. Your small adjustments and sacrifices are the hidden gifts that help strengthen your friendship or any relationship…just as the greatest Man ever, gifted Himself as the best Sacrifice! Here’s to blessed gifting then!”

I Am Happy I Quit! (a poem)

I loved my work
till it was more of a passion
and not any routine.

I contributed daily
to help the team
meet our corporate goals.

But good work was not valued
often was treated as cheap dirt
triggering acute dissatisfaction.

My work-life-imbalance whirled
my family’s strong foundation,
causing unhappiness everywhere.

My seniors schemed and tossed my role
eventually taking its toll
until I could take it no more.

I quit my 12-12 routine
and here I am having fun
learning to write a Triversen.


*** This poem is currently participating at the Triversen contest (@robertleebrewer). A triversen is an 18-line, poetic form developed by Sir William Carlos Williams. The Triversen rules include:

  • Each stanza equals one sentence.
  • Each sentence/stanza breaks into 3 lines (each line is a separate phrase in the sentence).
  • There is a variable foot of 2-4 beats per line.
  • The poem as a whole should add up to 18 lines (or 6 stanzas).

The Power of Zero (a poem)

Everyone calls me a zero,
but I am a hero
ready for a furore.

By myself I am nil,
almost silent and still
having no power or will.

Surrounded by a hollow,
my pride I swallow
and in all humility I follow.

In great power I revel,
following numerals,
either singles or in multiples.

I am an empty brace,
equalled to a space
having power to expand at a speedy pace.

Be happy as a zero,
unlike any Nero,
our prowess none can veto.


This poem is currently participating at the Triversen contest (@robertleebrewer). A triversen is an 18-line poetic form developed by Sir William Carlos Williams. The Triversen rules include:

  • Each stanza equals one sentence.
  • Each sentence/stanza breaks into 3 lines (each line is a separate phrase in the sentence).
  • There is a variable foot of 2-4 beats per line.
  • The poem as a whole should add up to 18 lines (or 6 stanzas).