STORY

Mundane Turned Into Magical.
He is greedy and spares no opportunity to grab anything he can. He is returning from his friend’s house, where he had managed to convince his friend to sell his land for a meager price. He knew that is the land where there is a treasure, he had known from secret sources. He managed to grab the land, and on a new moon day, he is prepared to start digging the land in search of the hidden treasure.
He bought a heavy machine that was like a giant human being. The man put the giant on the place where it was believed that a priceless treasure was hidden. As he removed the soil to get hold of the treasure he found a coffin instead. He thought that was the treasure. With joyful heart, smiling face and a watery tongue he removed the coffin out of the pit with much care. As his desiring hands, controlled by his desiring heart, grab the box a hearty laugh and an angry bang frightened the joyful heart that he dropped the coffin. The coffin split into halves and from it dark blood with smoke oozes out from the smiling skeleton that was lying in the broken coffin. Horrified with the uncontrollable sight he lay unconscious. The red sweetish blood invited the rats into that hole. On seeing a bigger piece of meat the rat munched it and the man rose to life. Like a Parkinson patient he threw the coffin cover to its original resting place. A paper of hopeful treasure caught his sight. It ran out from the coffin with words of instructions to go deeper to find the treasure. Overwhelmed with joy he jumped into the giant machine and dug the mud with haze.
The tedious work had eaten up his strength that he was forced to take rest. Hardly had he closed his eyes when he saw a shiny golden box of six feet. His sleepy eyes were shining brightly like the sunrays at twelve. His health is weak but desire is wealth. He jumped into the pit kiss and embraced the box and lifted it up out of the hole. Blood and sweat smiled out of his bruised hands and legs but the joy of the treasure was the only pleasure. Crawling like a dying guerrilla he opened the box carefully with all his final strength. When the beautiful box gave him a way he saw beautiful linen covering the coffin. With satisfying heart he opened the linen and there he lay dead because his heart stopped beating on seeing his daughter who lived at home lay dead on that box of his treasure. The moonlit nights never come back to day for him. His spirit lived among the devils; maggots, rats, vultures and other wild beast, ate his body. He lost forever from his family and friends.


Wings of Poesy.
*Hatred
She makes enemy among human beings,
She kills like nuclear bombs,
Kill her!
And put her forever in her tomb.

*Leaves
My mother rejects me
For I am old and weary.
But uniting with Thee, Oh! Mother earth
New life benefit from me.

Sensing Sensation.
The pattering rain was a flea to my sleep till I jumped out of my bed at six in the morning. The breakfast aroma was tempting me even before it was ready. While waiting for the desirous breakfast I opened the T.V. As I opened the news channel, shocking news about Borjuli village alarmed my heart. I was dumfounded to see that the angry cyclone and the hungry flood had consumed the village and the people. Borjuli was about fifty K.M. from my village and thirteen K.M. from the Bay of Bengal. There was a huge river running from my village passing through Borjuli and takes its resting place in the Bay of Bengal. The route was familiar to me because I used to go fishing using my own strong boat. The Borjuli news had turned my salivating breakfast to a bitter dose of medicine. The weather in my village had not stopped crying since yesterday but the cry of my Borjuli friends urged my heart and will to enter into my raincoat keeping aside all the inconveniences the rain brings. I rushed to my boat along with some bread, juices and other food articles or clothes that my house storage offered. Like an airplane I rode my boast to Borjuli village. Borjuli, the garden of roses and the most colourful village in our region pierced my heart like a double-edged sword as I stepped into its flooded border. The sight of the stinking dead bodies of human beings, animal carcasses and the plants had torn my hope to see any survivor. Like a mourning widow I proceeded to the village to see the last ashes of my beloved village and people.
When I reached the village proper I suddenly heard a faint sound of ‘help’. I stopped my boat and give my ear to that sound. The sound directed me to the centre of the village where I saw the famished people who had survived because their once beautiful decorated house had become their immovable boat. Like a mad man without knowing what I do I found that my boat had reached the survivor. I lowered a laddered rope to them till they all find safety in my boat. The survivors were ten of them and five of them were from the same family. With tears of joy amidst the deadly flood I embraced them and gave them the food and clothes I had brought. The survivors told me that for three days they had held their lives in their hands and they had surrendered their lives to God. The stormy weather and the unmerciful rain had not stopped persecuting them till a few hours ago. They said that I was angel sent by God because as I entered Borjuli the weather started to brighten and the stinking muddy and bloody water had found its way to the Bay of Bengal.
While they were filling their stomach I told them to see and listen if anybody could survive while I started the engine and rode the boat around the village. After a few distance I found that two youths were sitting on two dying animals that floated and they supported themselves from a coconut branch. We rescued them and as they entered the boat their clothes smelled very badly because they had sat on the animals that started rotting. I told them to remove their clothes and I gave tem new ones. When the two were still feeding their stomach I rode the boat to rescue more survivor. When I with my surviving friends had rescued fifty skinny, famished and sick survivors I saw some relief workers coming towards us. I directed them to move round the village again and again and try to shout for survivors and I left with my heavy boat to my village for everything that I took was over and so that I can give some aid to them.
The whole day I had not fed my stomach and now it started pinching me. Now I took my meals with joy for having saved at least some of my suffering friends. As I talked to my surviving friends they told me that they had tasted resurrection because of my boat. They told that they were actually dead and reached God because the storm and the rain had taken their spirits away. The greediness of wealth led him to the tragedy of death.
By Shaining Star Lyngdoh Marshillong S.J.