I am Tyson & Other Stories

By Raja Sharma

Manak was a smithy, an extraordinary wordsmith who picked the words, evaluated them, polished them, an d then arranged them in strings of many types. His words flourished like flowers, endeavouring to understand and reveal the mysteries of nature. His words consoled the afflicted hearts of the poor and infused them with new strength. He did not want any higher reward than that. He had the skill of arousing every known and, perhaps, unknown emotion. The one who read his words could not escape either of the two inevitable emotions: happiness and sorrow. A Muslim could find the voice of Azan and a Hindu could hear the sound of temple bells in his words. Manak held that words were the holiest thing in his possession; he loved his words and he never played with his words, like the politicians who manipulate the world of words to exploit the masses. He would be sad to see how some people misused words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raja Sharma
• Release date: Sep 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465857699

Raja Sharma

Raja Sharma is a retired college lecturer.He has taught English Literature to University students for more than two decades.His students are scattered all over the world, and it is noticeable that he is in contact with more than ninety thousand of his students.

Book preview

I am Tyson & Other Stories

Raja Sharma

Copyright@2011Raja Sharma

Smashwords Edition

Chapter 1: I am Tyson

My name ought to remind humans of a boxer who ruled the boxing world for so many years but I am not a boxer. My name is the result of a mistake of human perception. They did not check me at the time of my birth and gave me a male name. The person who named me was really a duffer, which I later came to know.

When I had first realized that I had a physical existence in this world, I did not know how many brothers and sisters were sucking the milk of our mother. I could not open my eyes for about ten days but I felt the presence of my near and dear ones. I got familiar with the sounds made by my mother and my brothers and sisters but I was curious to see the creatures that often came there and made some strange sounds from their mouths. As I grew up, I came to know that they whistled and greeted us in their language which was very strange.

There was nothing much to do in those days: sucking the milk of our mother, sleeping, and giving ear to any strange sound, of course, with an element of fear. After a fortnight, the master of the house brought us onto the roof and kept in the sun. It was quite soothing and warm. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. At first everything was hazy but slowly I began to recognize the things around me. I had known my mother only by her smell but now I could see her furry glory. My two brothers and one sister were white and brown but I was black, but my tail had a patch of white. The world was new to me and I liked it.

I had not found any difference in early days but after about a month, I realized that we walked on four but creatures, our masters, called humans walked on their two legs. They had to bend down to pick me when they wanted to caress me or nuzzle me. I liked it, but one of them, an old man, stank. His breath had a strange odour and after many months I came to know that he smoked. I am still not able to understand why they light a rod and emit smoke from their nostrils. We never do anything like that.

After about one month, a person came to our house and picked me and my white brother. He kept us in a shoulder bag and walked out of the house. My mother kept on barking but he did not stop. We, my brother and I, were very frightened in the darkness of that bag. He started a machine, which I came to recognize, in the later years, as motorcycle. It was a ride full of uncertainty, fear, hope, and separation. My brother licked me and tried to console me. The ride lasted for a few minutes and then the machine was stopped.

When the bag was opened, mixed voices of many people greeted us. The senior most member of this new family was a professor. The carrier greeted him and addressed him with ‘Rajasir’. He picked me and kissed me. I liked him and I realized that his hands were softer than the hands of other people. His wife and two daughters were very happy.

What is the name of this black one? said the teacher.

Tyson, Sir, said the person who had brought us there.

But, she is a female?

You can change the name, laughed he.

No, it is all right with me, said my new master.

I felt relieved that they were not going to change my name because the sound T-Y-S-O-N was quite pleasing and I had begun to recognize it. My brother was named Bolton by our new master.

I am still very confused, though I am five years old now. In our first house, when they wanted to call me they would make a sound ‘Aai jaa’ but here our master, the teacher, makes sounds ‘Come Here’ and it is quite confusing. Sometimes guests come to our house and they make some other kinds of sounds which are quite new to us. They have a machine called TV and thousands of sounds come from that box. They look same, humans, but why they make so many different sounds is not understandable! We have different breeds, different colours, but we have one language and one sound. We belong to one kind but they call themselves one but they are always at loggerheads with one another.

From the very beginning I realized that our new master loved my brother more because he always kept my brother with him. Maybe his white colour and hairy body make him more presentable, or his male factor makes him so.

However, I love my master very much because he is very caring and loving. He keeps on giving us goodies to eat and never shouts at us. His daughters and wife are also very loving and they treat us like the members of their family. A person named ‘doctor’ comes from time to time and injects something into our bodies.

Our master is a very hard working man. He gets up very early in the morning and gets ready. He enters the classroom and then come some other people. He calls them ‘students’ and they begin to converse in that room for about an hour. I don’t understand why they come to him to talk to him. I see they give him some pieces of paper from time to time. One day I had torn one such paper and I was beaten by his wife. I gradually understood that those papers were useful because you can use those papers in the shops and they give you biscuits. Whenever his daughter, Sherry, goes out, I accompany her. She carries some pieces of papers with her and she gives those papers to people in shops. In return they give her many things like chicken, bread, eggs, biscuits, chocolates, etc. Now I don’t touch those papers if I see them in any of the rooms in our house. But when my master pulls some pieces of paper from his pocket and gives them to Sherry, my ears stand and I get ready because I smell something to eat. This is the most exciting thing in my life.

When I was about one year old, one day, I found a very attractive friend in the market. He liked me too. He followed me to our house.