Sueños Chasing Dreams

By Pabitra Adhikary

""There is a fragrance of hope. Inhale it. Discover the eloquence of silence. Listen to it. Even in darkness, find your light. There is a charm in waiting. The moment of fulfilling of your dreams will happen. Have faith. Chase your dreams!"

- Avijeet Das"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9789360494360

Book preview

Short Story by

Pabitra Adhikary

Honeymoon on the Moon

(A Science Fiction Comedy)

Poltu has decided to marry Sraboni and go to the Moon for their honeymoon. It is about a world hundred years in the future so going to the Moon for a honeymoon is not a big deal. It will be a little expensive, that’s all. Poltu calculated that all expenses including his bank balance will become half.

He has told Sraboni about going to the Moon. Sraboni is ecstatic. Going to the Moon for a honeymoon doesn’t come everyone’s way.

When Poltu informed his father about this, his face became glum. His father said, Put aside this wasteful expenditure and concentrate on the business!

Poltu’s mother contorted her face and said, When he should settle down after marriage, instead he is going to the Moon for honeymoon.

Whatever the others might say, once Poltu has decided to go to the Moon he will certainly go. He gives not a damn to what others say.

To go to the Moon first one has to get a visa, so he has to take Sraboni along. There won’t be any problem getting a visa. Poltu has made all arrangements. They are not planning to stay on the Moon permanently. They will have a two-month honeymoon and come back.

But if they like the Moon very much, if Sraboni doesn’t want to come from the Moon, if he can get a good job on the Moon, then it’s a different option. Otherwise Poltu will spend two months with Sraboni for a honeymoon on the Moon and come back.

Before leaving for the Moon both Poltu and Sraboni will undergo medical tests.

Next there will be training for seven days where they will be taught everything so that they don’t have any difficulties on the Moon.

The gravitational pull on the Moon is one sixth of that of the earth. How would they feel when they will be able to run faster, jump higher and look at the earth from the Moon? These thoughts give shudders to Poltu. There is no air on the Moon so one has to talk through ether waves. Both of them will have phones attached to their ears so they won’t have any problem.

The rooms of the hotels however are tightly air-packed. On mornings and evenings that air is purified as well. Some unusual potted plants are placed inside the rooms so one gets purified air always.

Poltu has inquired with the tourism department that there are three categories of hotels: five-star, seven-star and seventeen-star. Poltu booked a room in a five-star hotel.

When Poltu and Sraboni will step on the Moon the hotel staff will rush with garlands towards them to welcome them into the hotel in a celebration.

But first of all he’ll have to go to Sraboni’s house. Along with her he will have to go to the visa office.

As Poltu rang the calling bell of Sraboni’s house, someone pushed him from behind. Poltu jumped out of bed. He had been dreaming. His mother was standing before him. Poltu pretended to be angry with his mother, Mother, you spoiled my beautiful dream. I was having a nice time planning a honeymoon on the Moon after marrying Sraboni in a world hundred years from now!

Short Story by

Sumana RoyChowdhury

Sands of Time

It was past midnight and Janardhan Chowdhury was immersed in a book. The palatial house in which he sat was bathed in silence with all its other members long asleep. Janardhan’s wife; Niharika, their nineteen-year-old son Abhishek and all the servants of the household were fast asleep. Janardhan was sitting in the living room next to the large window that overlooked the vast backyard of their countryside home. A glistening lake was visible in the distance at the far end of the yard. He was the Zamindar of the estate, a coveted position in pre-independent India. It was a position that brought with itself its share of luxuries which included the huge house in which he lived.

Janardhan enjoyed this time of the night when he was all by himself with no one to bother him. The only sound to accompany him was the distant chirping of crickets that came from outside the open window. He placed the book on the arm of the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes for some time. He sighed, feeling content with himself. He had done well given the humble beginnings that he and his family had come from. Although he had been born in poverty; ever since his early days, Janardhan had always known that he was good-looking and that he had a sharp mind. And he had never hesitated to use both qualities to get what he wanted from life, including charming Niharika, the only daughter of the rich Zamindar of the estate on which Janardhan and his family used to live and work. To the young, ambitious Janardhan, Niharika was the perfect means to the end that he had always dreamt of for himself. He had lost no time in endearing himself to first, the Zamindar, and then to the man’s daughter; never letting his contempt for the dim-witted and spoilt Niharika be seen.

Janardhan was soon married to Niharika and he came to live on the estate from the decrepit mud house where he had lived so far, on the out-skirts of the village. At first, everything seemed to be going well and Janardhan enjoyed the luxuries of his new life of abundance which was a far cry from what he had been used to. However, the novelty wore off quickly and he soon came to grudge the fact that the Zamindar continued to be in control of everyday affairs, leaving Janardhan to function merely as his secretary. The young man gritted his teeth and bade his time while continuing to humour the Zamindar and his daughter despite his misgivings. As is the norm, time went by, the Zamindar’s health started to deteriorate and Janardhan lost no time in taking over control from the old man. He also ensured that Niharika’s father did not get any medical treatment once the man started to ail; thus, cutting the man’s life shorter than it would have been otherwise, and sooner than later, Janardhan Chowdhury was anointed the new Zamindar of the estate.

Reliving these memories, made Janardhan smile to himself. He felt no remorse – only a deep pride in all that he had achieved. He felt drowsy and was about to get up and go inside when an uncharacteristically strong breeze caused the windows above him to close with a bang thus breaking the stillness of the night and making him jump and look up at the window. The view that met his eyes caused him to draw his breath in sharply; making the sleep disappear in no time

It could not be true – he must be seeing things, he reprimanded himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, and reopened them slowly, adjusting the glasses that were perched on his longish nose, but the sight before him had not changed. There was no mistake. There was a face at the window, and it was looking directly at him. The woman outside had long hair, which was left loose around her oval face, the darkness made it hard to see her features although Janardhan had no doubt about her identity. The identity, coupled with the stern, unwavering gaze of the brown eyes made him squirm and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound would come out. He seemed unable to move and sat paralyzed with fear while helplessly staring at the face outside the window. As he tried to scream once more, Janardhan became conscious of a constriction in his throat till the time that he could not breathe anymore, collapsing in a heap on the floor of the living room with a loud thud.

***

Get up! Get up!

A woman’s voice floated to his ears. Janardhan kept his eyes firmly shut. It must be the woman that he had seen at the window. If he kept his eyes closed for long enough then perhaps, she would get tired and go away. As these thoughts played in Janardhan’s mind he felt a splash of cold water on his face which almost caused him to choke. Instinctively his eyes opened, and he sat up cursing. He looked around and saw Niharika’s chubby face look at him with concern.

Are you okay Janardhan? asked his wife as he glared at her.

I – I am fine… He coughed wiping the water off his face with his palm. What do you mean by splashing cold water on my face in the middle of the night?

Niharika looked repentant at once. You were unconscious, and I had heard in the village that splashing water on the face makes a person regain consciousness.

Janardhan shot his wife an incredulous glance. The woman had never displayed any presence of mind for as long as he had known her. He was about to open his mouth to give her an earful when the memory of the face in the window returned. He gave a start. Niharika, who was kneeling on the floor next to him, cast him a worried look.

What happened now? she asked nervously, placing her palm on his forehead. Are you feeling ill?

Niharika… whispered Janardhan, keeping his head firmly turned away from the window above him. Can you see if there is someone outside the window?

Although bewildered by her husband’s out-of-sorts behaviour, Niharika did as she was told.

There’s no one Janardhan. Are you expecting someone? she asked him, a tinge of concern apparent in her voice once more. In our village everyone is asleep by 9 pm. It’s past midnight now – no one should be around.

Janardhan did not reply although he cast a sideways glance towards the window. As Niharika had told him, it was empty indeed. He let out an audible sigh of relief.

Janardhan, did you see someone outside? probed his wife. Is that why you lost consciousness? Do you think it was a thief? Should we call the police? Her voice kept rising to reach a hysteric pitch with each question.

He shook his head and studied his wife’s face. The beauty of her younger years had long left her and now he was looking into a chubby face with wide, unintelligent eyes that were puffy from lack of sleep. Quickly, turning away to hide his contempt, Janardhan cleared his throat and said,  I think I saw a ghost. He stated it matter-of-factly, as one does when speaking the truth.

A-a what? asked his wife.

A ghost, he repeated.

Oh…’ she said, seeming to be at a loss for words. W-what did it look like? she asked after a thoughtful silence.

Janardhan paused. He wondered whether