“Most people like to own things. You know, land, luggage, other people. Makes them feel secure. But all that can be taken away. And in the end, the only thing you really own is your story. Just trying' to live a good one.” – Dialogue from Hollywood movie, Australia.
Good Morning Toastmasters and guests if any. Sharing 3 Short Stories with you all. Ready?
Title of Sweet Story: HEMA.
My Girlfriend Hema and I had a big fight over something. So she decided as a punishment not to play Holi with me. She told me that she too would close the Collapsible Metal Gate on Holi morning on her floor. That’s why my friends hanged my legs on a rope and lifted me from the second floor to reach her on the first floor. A special whistle was to be blown when my GF Hema would be out on the verandah. But fate had other plans for me. She came out. I was rolled down. But at that very moment HER MAA (Her mother) too came out little behind her. END OF STORY: Got a Holy beating from my never to be Mother in Law, that was Hema’s MAA. HE MA.
Title of Scary Story: The Child’s Ball.
On a Sunny Sunday afternoon, me and my 3 staff went together to check out a Bungalow in Nuvem to be our future office. Owner comes. Opens the door. We enter a huge Living Room, connecting to a Kitchen on the Ground Floor. It was totally empty below. There were steps leading to the first floor. To attend a phone call, the owner goes out of the house. As we all were standing and looking around. A bright colored red plastic ball came rolling down from the first floor staircase on the cemented stairs and we all saw the ball falling and coming down. Then it rolled and its motion stopped a little close to my feet. Suddenly I saw all of my 3 Staff running out of the house in great panic. All of us outside, we were just discussing and confirming that we all 4 had seen the Plastic Red Ball and the Owner comes back. We tell him what happened. He totally does not agree. First floor windows are all packed and not opened. No breeze. But most important, the last owners did not leave any Red Plastic Ball in the house. He insists us to show the Red ball. We all 4 enter the house once again confidently. There was no red ball anywhere on the floor. The more we searched the more we got scared. He insisted that we come and check on the first floor too. None of us had the guts to go with him. As he started climbing the stairs up, we all quietly walked out of the house.
Title of the Story: The Anamika or Anonymous Lady
After a hard days sales work, was returning very late at night from Arambol beach back to Margao. Around 11.30pm I reached the Verna Junction. A beautiful female in green Salwar Kurta was asking for a lift. I stopped. She sat on the bike. After picking up speed I told her that I am going till Margao City and where would she like to be dropped or reached? Pat came her reply. “You can take me home for the night if you wish”. Right over there my feet stepped on the brakes abruptly. She got down. Stood on the road. She speaks boldly, “If you cannot take me home, you can take me wherever you wish”. I told her plainly. No. This is so not happening. I tell her to sit on the bike again. I turn around and drop her once again at Verna junction where I met her. Before leaving I put my hand in my pocket removed an Rs.500/- note and offered her. She refused. Then added another Rs.500/- note making it Rs.1000/-. She still refused. Now I start my bike and move on my way.
SO AS TO CONCLUDE: Did this really happen to me? I leave this final decision over to you. 3 Short Simple stories. 1 Sweet. 1 Scary. 1 Sexy. Is it a story teller’s lie or truth? I leave it up to you. Life is a Picnic, so some say. You are welcome to savor my life stories as, “Food for Thought” on this Picnic day.
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