Saturday, December 22, 2012

Croaked Bugle

A Micro Story ....

The bugle that blows everyday whether required or not but destined to blow even with croaked voice since its arrival across the continents, oceans, mountains and deserts for getting itself rooted to the land of nativity  towards utter content and discontent so that later can be accepted by the locals thinking  divinity bestowed upon as the great past ever tries to project ahead for a picture of a fatter past for the curiosity of future and timid present.

The tale of  present  is always a story of a sandwich dressed with butter inside or something else as taste varies without ethics of variance but always with a guise of an innocent standard set by the bugle maker for ponder of natives of whom very very few  knew whom the bugle was handed over in that fateful night.

They only installed the bugle on the top but just after to their extreme surprise found themselves cursed of blindness so much so that everything looked deep black as if the biggest inkpot had eased out self in darkness for ensuing dooms night for innumerable  quarrels and hassles, slaughters and shots, floods, frauds and famines all making a deadly cocktail for all to drink and dance towards peace and calamity whatever is sooner and easier as if they don't want to hear the bugle in its croaked voice anymore.

Hrushikesha Mohanty
Night of 22nd Dec. '12


Anonymous said...

Abhash Kumar Boral nice

Anonymous said...

will bugle clear its throat, Hrushi babu?

Anonymous said...

Dear Hrushikesh Babu,
Namaskar. Reader may take this in either way - hope or desparation. really a good musing.
Rabi Kanungo.