A short story for my son starting with "I could not stop myself". Teaching them creative writing :)

I could not stop myself from running head first onto an incoming train.

It was an exceptionally hot summer afternoon. Summer afternoons tend to get exceptionally hot near my college, thanks to the acres of barren rocky landscape surrounding it. It was my last day of college - the last exam of my final year. My mood was pensive; the exam had not gone well. I had never been a good student, so I was not very surprised at my academic performance. What worried me was that this was the end of my childhood. I was standing on one of life's precipice looking into the vast emptiness of an uncertain future. Compounding my pensiveness was the realisation that my small family would now be looking at me to support them. My family is really small. Father passed away five years back after a prolonged struggle with brain cancer. My elder sister, met with an unfortunate accident two years back and is now handicapped. She stays in bed most of the time. My mother is not very educated, but she is the strongest person I have seen in my life. She has held the family together. She works as a maid and struggles 14 hours a day, just to cover my sisters medical treatment and my education expenses.

My sister's accident was preventable. For as long as I live, I will live in eternal turmoil, realising every living moment that if I had not been caught in the moment of indecision - my beautiful sister would still have both her legs and would be happily married. I have vowed to support my family till my last breath and provide the best for them. It is only this thought that has kept me from going insane with guilt.

So, here I was, standing pensive waiting for the train to pass and the railway crossing to open, so I could rush to my home and feed my sister lunch.

The wailing of the child was so feeble that it was easy to miss it amidst the howling loo blowing through the open field and the long honks of the oncoming train. It was his tiny yellow shirt that stood out and drew my attention when I looked again. He must have been 100 meters away.. a tiny soul, wailing endlessly sitting near the railway track. A very uncommon sight in an exceptionally hot summer afternoon, so uncommon that my brain refused to acknowledge it for a moment. I strained my eyes to look past the heat induced simmer from the ground. Indeed it was a child, not more than 5 years old. Near him, I could see a pink cloth fluttering in the wind. And then the realisation struck that the pink cloth was a dupatta, most possibly of his mother who was lying prone and unconscious on the track.

A feeling of paralysis coursed through my body. I was transported back two years and could see my sister about to fall from our roof. It was Diwali night and we were celebrating on top of our newly build house. The roof was still not walled.. but it was the happiest Diwali for us. We had a house to ourselves - the last wish of my father fulfilled. My sister's marriage was finalised. My sister was happily running around with lighted sparkles and did not realize that she was fast approaching the edge of the roof. I saw it.. but was so shocked that I froze.. I could not move, could not shout and could see my sister continuing her run beyond the roof.

Not this time. It was a chance of redeeming myself. A chance of not spending the rest of my life drowned in the acid vat of remorse. This was the moment I got disembodied.. I could see myself throw my cycle and run like a possessed soul, head first into the moving train. Time seem to slow down; I felt as if I was moving through a pool of molasses. I could see my sister on the railway track in her pink salwar kameez and I had to save her; save myself.

I felt my hand grab the woman's leg and pull her off the track. My leg was not so lucky though. My ankle got caught in the track and when I awoke, I was in a hospital. My mother was besides me, my sister too. There was another woman whom I did not recognise. She laid a gentle hand on my head and said softly - "My brother, if not for you, it would all be lost. You now have two elder sisters."

A short story I penned for my daughter ---------


I love beaches and have been looking forward to our summer vacation at Ganpatiphule's MTDC resort. It was late June, summer was just ending and the weather was very pleasant. We thoroughly enjoyed our vacation.

Unfortunately, it was time to head back. After a last visit to the beach and an early lunch, we started driving back. We expected to be in Pune before 9 pm. Father was driving and my elder brother was in the front seat. Mother and I were in the back and we all were playing antakshari to pass the time.

By 5 pm, we were in the ghats near Chiplun. It turned cloudy and started to drizzle. Father reduced the speed mentioning that ghats become very slippery when it rains. Steadily the rain increased. Suddenly we heard a loud bang and father announced that we have a puncture. He assured us that there is nothing to worry as we have a spare tyre. He and brother stepped out in the rain and with great difficulty replaced the tyre. It took almost an hour. By then both were muddy and completely drenched.

We started driving slowly again but could hardly see anything in the rain. We were starting to get uncomfortable. Mother suggested that we stop at the next hotel, eat dinner and wait for the rain to stop.

There was no cell phone coverage in the mountains and we had to watch out for road signs for navigation. After around 10 minutes, we saw a small notice for a detour to a village named Ratnapuri. We reached Ratnapuri after some time. It was very dark. We could see some huts but there were no lights. Mother explained that villagers go to bed early. Down the road we saw a small light and were very happy to see that it was a small restaurant named Amba Hotel.

We parked the car and went inside. There was a very old lady arranging the tables. She gave us a very warm smile and asked us to sit. She explained that it was late and she was about to close but she will be happy to cook us something hot. Father and brother changed into some dry clothes in the bathroom and we were ready for dinner. It was possibly one of the best dinners I have had or maybe I was extra hungry.

It was still raining and the old grandmotherly lady insisted that we sleep in the room above and leave in the morning. The ghats are very dangerous in rainy nights, she said. Mother gave the old lady a big hug and said she can't thank her enough for her hospitality.

We went up and found the room small, old but very cozy. There was also a small coal heater. Father and brother decided to sleep on the floor while Ma and I curled up on the bed. We were alseep in no time.

When we woke up, sunlight was streaming through the windows and we could hear birds chirping. We felt rested. We immediately realized something was wrong. We looked around and realized that the room was all broken and the roof was missing in many places. It was filled with dead leafs and plants were growing from the walls. Father asked us to get ready in a hurry. We rushed down and saw the entire hotel in the same state. It was as if no one has lived in the building for years.

We were very afraid now and could not explain what was going on. We stepped out and to our horror realized that we were standing in the middle of a long abandoned village in the middle of a dense forest. There was no old woman and no villagers.

It was as if we were waking up from a dream. We quickly got into the car and drove as fast as possible. It was noon by the time we reached Pune.

Brother quickly took out his phone and searched Google for Ratnapuri. Google told us that it was a railway colony during the British time and was abandoned almost 100 years back.

It was a rainy night which I will remember throughout my life.