Thursday scribblings 28.8.14

I used to speak for hours on cellphone, once upon a time, there were some really chatty friends. Then someone told me about how those waves cook our brain.

Honestly, after that if someone talks for more than five minutes I start shifting the ears.

Dont use headsets, because dont receive chatty calls anymore, most of my friends are available on internet.

Dont miss those phonecalls :)

Thursday Scribblings 3.4.14

Musegames on wednesdays 27.8.14

camel 61012

“That wicked creature did it on purpose!” Roshan growled.

His wife covered her face in the sheet feigning to be asleep.

“Laugh… laugh…” he growled, “That camel is wicked, I wont be taking it for my next trip.”

He did not allowed the camel an extra drink when they were passing by a pond.

A few kilometers further it all of a sudden collapsed, he had to use all the water to revive it and then return to the pond.

That is when he became suspicious that the camel was a spiteful, vindictive animal.

Musegames on wednesdays 3.4.14

money money money

money 2

To some it is much more dearer than anything else. In her short life she has seen people doing anything for it, and have heard about people doing worse things for it.

Those obsessed with it wont mind stealing the blanket of a dying man if it will give them some money.

So, when she sees the obsessive glint in someone’s eyes, not for her, for the greens she takes a few steps away.

A person whose world centers around money can never be someone’s trustworthy friend, lover or closer.

He or she will betray, chances are too high.

If she is on one side of the scale and money or its promises on the other one.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14

Thursday Scribblings 21.8.14

How I loved red poppies… HOW I LOVED THEM! Before knowing that they are symbols of martyrs.

Now even though their beauty charms me the painful thought of slain martyrs waltzes along dragging her dark gown of melancholy.

I really, really would have done without this knowledge!

ha! But she sits there baring her sharp fangs every time i see any picture of a field of red poppies.

Thursday Scribblings 3.4.14

BRAGBOARD N TIPS 20.8.14

Hey…WILL YOU HELP ME ON SORTING OUT 100 OR SO POEMS/WORKS THAT I CAN COMPILE IN ONE/MULTIPLE EBOOKS?

No, you wont have to pick 100 of my works that you wont mind buying as an ebook, only few will be enough, as they will vary from one friend to the other i will get my hundred.

Apart from that, can you suggest how many should be compiled together for one book and how much will I name as price?

puhleeeeeeez…

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JUKEPOPSERIALS BULLETIN-

My first story there ( chapter 13 published on 18/8/14):

The Tower – https://www.jukepop.com/home/read/4601

second story :)

The strange island ( chapter 11 published on 18/8/14)

https://www.jukepop.com/home/read/4639

Harmony

Third story- Harmony (6th chapter published on 18/8/14)

https://www.jukepop.com/home/read/4675

Sorry for the misinformation, You will have to become a member before you read the stories, or else it will be a hunting ground for plagiarists i believe. So, if you love to read stories you can join, if you want to write stories and get them tested by “no nonsense” writers join, if you love to spend your extra money with poor, hungry writers join!

I cant earn a dime from there at present but will love to have your votes, as many as you can give after joining :)

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SMASHWORDS BULLETIN

After initial testing and downloading their guideline to get the ebook ready for being published I gave up! It is impossible to follow that guideline. I am not an expert in formatting such things.

Spending 40 dollars to get a book published… well its a tough game for me. So if I can manage to handle their formatting demands then it is ok or else sorry for me. :)

in case you are in smashwords, or you are interested to take a peek, here is my interview-

https://www.smashwords.com/interview/sermistabasu

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POTHI.COM

Now, the bad news at the end, I had an account in another ebook publishing site, pothi.com, they used to accept word files and convert them into ebooks without any fuss. Unfortunately back then I was not planning on ebooks, right now, I am quite certain to publish my poems as ebooks and see if they can win hearts…. so I tried to create a new account with them, they told me that they have sent me the password in my email id, heaven only knows which email id, because i did not get it.

Adamantly I went back and requested them for a new password- they again repeated the same message, password sent to your email id… ha and ha.

finally i contacted their support desk.

you know the answer…

LATEST NEWS:

Well their support desk responded and asked me to open a gmail account and open an account through that… will think about that.

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Wattpad
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Have joined Wattpad, sounded interesting and useful, will let you know about my experiences. In case you are there, my profile there is:

http://www.wattpad.com/user/sharmishthabasu

Musegames on Wednesdays 20.8.14

brontosaurus 12.8.12

“What is that huge pile of grain doing in the courtyard grandpa, it will rain anytime now! Will I gather it and put it inside?” The new help asked.

“No. It is for dino, he will come at dusk to eat before going to sleep.” his master shouted from the barn.

It was dusk and the trees started swaying violently.

The boy was surprised, there was no wind, only swaying trees and then dino showed up for his dinner.

Musegames on wednesdays 3.4.14

those moments

meditation

She was not a saint, nor was very religious or spiritual. But whenever she sat somewhere by herself, away from noise and human contact she felt absolute peace.

It was not that she hated human beings or disliked them.

Their constant presence wearied her.

She needed these moments to revive her soul, mind and heart.

She knew everyone called her weird.

She did not cared, never did and never will.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14

Thursday scribblings 14.8.14

I loved the movie “I hate valentine days”, its a cute, heartwarming movie.

In one of the scenes the hero expresses his desire to gift the heroine with an antique stool, she refuses it, and her answer will always stay with me.

“Whenever I see an antique thing I can feel the hands of dead people, who used and loved it clinging to it….”

Well… you can never tell… right?

I am neutral about life after death, I dont believe it only because I dont have any real proof. But I wont challenge it at all if some proof shows up.

So, as I am typing away my post, my computer is on a small divan, very old, I dont sleep on it, I did once, but everytime I slept on it I used to have really tormenting nightmares… not physically emotionally.

Maybe, its ex owner passed away while suffering deep pain, grief or loss eh?

Thursday Scribblings 3.4.14

musegames on wednesdays 13.8.14

girl in sky boat 4.6.14

The imprisoned princess of dreams often dreamt of someone, she could not see him, he always stood hidden in bright sunlight, a few steps away from her realm of twillight, the bright sun made him transparent.

She ached for him for he was the only one she could see, in the barren land of moon, imprisoned away from other magical beings, as the powers of darkness captured her land.

“Come out to me princess…” he often called out to her in a sweet voice.

She knew to walk out of twillight zone she will have to leave her armor behind, the armor that saved her from being devoured by the darkness that haunted her.

Her heart and body ached for him. But her mind warned her again and again.

While her tormentor waited for her to step out.

He was optimist that sooner or later she will give in.

Musegames on wednesdays 3.4.14

HONEY TRAP INTRO

MY LATEST POSTS—>>>

I often have one or more sticky posts that stay frigid while i keep adding fresh posts, sometimes my friends too get confused when they are looking for the new posts, in this theme well they are lined up in the right side column.

=========================================================================================================

HONEY TRAP:

THE FULL STORY IS HERE:

http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com/honey-trap/

OR HERE:

http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com/2010/02/15/honey-trap/

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CHAPTER 5 : Wisdom dawns
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14.02.2010

I. JOURNEY TO WISDOM:

Being born and brought up in a family which had immense faith on me and have laid endless liberty in my hands I never understood twisted side of human beings. The blood thirsty carnivores hidden inside human body. So I ignored too many signs of time and paid for them dearly. I was famous for my innocence too. The combination acted as deadly.

I forgot in my panic that I have told Jhumamasi that I was coming to Kolkata to attend Chaitali’s marriage that meant they knew from the very beginning that I was escaping from them.

I still remember Keshav uncle’s last lecture just before I left Rajpur, he has asked me to do something which I ignored, because I was already filled up with repulsion for that duo. He gave me a lecture, the gist of that lecture was he was God, and the only thing which was saving me from the wrath of God was Jhumamasi. I guess that son of devil (or devil himself) sent his sons to Kolkata to prove himself right.

I ignored the fact that Seemana looked almost like Mr. Jain of Rajpur, so did Chaitali. Actually, Chaitali seemed quite friendly with her and used to come to see her quite often with Sanjay when I was not at home.

Seemana was friendlier with Mandals then her own in-laws. I have seen her creeping out of their rooms just after her marriage, though she knew that her in-laws hated it.

I ignored that Sanjay and Chaitali were more interested in Shiv and Seemana than me; so many times I have seen Sanjay sitting in the verandah after returning from Shree’s home. His excuse was he came to meet me and was going back.

I forgot that it might have been quite easy for Jhumamasi and Keshav uncle to buy Shiv and Seemana, they were submerged in debts.

I remembered years later that they had another deadly thing in their hands, my diary, which has been misplaced during my shifting to Mr. Jain’s home from Jhumamasi’s home. A diary which held a little too much information about my emotional life.

Not only that, they had all my belongings for next two years, Chanchal booked them before returning to Kolkata. I could only bring things which can be placed inside one suitcase; I could not raise their suspicion.

I failed to notice that Chaitali and her sisters came to my life after my first meeting with Keshav uncle and Jhumamasi, in Shiv’s elder brother’s marriage.

Not only that, since that date wherever I went, whatever I did I was sure to meet a medical representative, Chaitali worked in a local railway hospital.

That trio Chaitali, Saswati and Swati overwhelmed me with their doting. They had a huge group of friends. The second sister, Saswati was the most popular among them. I too was overwhelmed by her but later, just before shifting to Rajpur I distanced myself from them because I have come to know from someone else that they were not right type of women that is they ruin the reputation of girls by setting their boyfriends at their heel. Well, I too had this suspicion from their behaviour and that was the reason I distanced myself from them but later I forgot it all in panic.

I was offered a job by Chaitali, a job which wasted two thousand rupee and was the first spec on my clean sleeve. She offered me a job of medical representative, I submitted the caution money and met the regional manager, and he always met us individually in hotel, in a hotel just near my home. A spicy dish for dirty minds. He usurped the money and vanished. But not before leaving a trail of mud on my sleeve.

I can vow I met that man later, he was not a regional manager of some medicine company, he was a doctor practicing in the same hospital as chaitali. Two persons may look alike, may have same voice or mannerism but the combination of three is impossible. At least that’s what I believe.

Most probably devil (keshav uncle) had his eyes on me even before I went to Rajpur, he was spreading his net, with the firm belief that every one walks around with a price tag like him. Every human being can be corrupted and abused.

But, I failed to put these pieces together at that time; I was too scared and frustrated to think calmly back then. Later, when I distanced myself from that quagmire I slowly started to piece it all together.

I guess wisdom comes to an innocent person after extracting its full fees. When I look back I realize I was too innocent and noble for the world which was surrounding me, so I had to pay with the walk through raging fire to attain the land of peace with which I was blessed later.

The land of clear vision, which showed me every thing in a crystal clear way and made me content for the rest of my life. Content because that journey taught me the greatest truth, if one is certain to walk on the path of truth God comes down to walk with him or her and no matter how much devil tries, he fails.

II. Can of worms:

Shangri-la seemed to have transformed into a box of slithering worms in just two years. The two years I spent outside it.

It seemed the whole household was under control of Seemana, Shiv and Mandal duo.

As they did not bothered to share their unsavoury secrets with me all I could do was guess, and they might have been or not have been wrong. So many questions started to pop inside my mind.

To not confuse I will just point them out–

1. Why did Chaitali and her sisters visited the house to meet Seemana again and again, even though Shruti was not there? They were not idlers, one of them was an intern, and the other two were pursuing post graduation and graduation in science.

2. Why did Seemana called out Partho Mandal instead of me or Pathos’s mother whenever she was having a tiff with her husband. They used to get quite violent. Throwing dirtiest words at each other and physically hitting.

3. For whom did Seemana left the doors open in stealth? So many times I have locked it by my own hands in afternoons and evenings. We had a system of locking both the doors which lead outside at noon and after dusk.

So I used to do it, and she used to come downstairs and open it stealthily. She was not a silent person; she was one of the noisiest persons I have ever encountered. A woman obsessed with noise. She could not even walk soundlessly, forget about opening a latch which was to make sound unless opened very cautiously – I tried it couple of times and it took me more than two minutes to simply open that latch and place it in its place without making a sound.

4. Why was Chaitali so eager to prescribe me psychiatric drugs? If a bunch of goons are waiting for you outside your doorstep to fling filthiest comments at you, you are supposed to be upset. But that doesn’t require psychiatric drugs. Not only that, when I asked her to give me a medical certificate which I could send to Jhumamasi she arranged for a certificate on psychiatric grounds.

Why did she picked up a fight after I coldly (not rudely) refused to take those medicines? She immediately stopped meeting me.

May be because it was not required any more. She might have finished her task and just wanted an excuse to terminate the friendship. After all, it was she who has hung herself like a leech along with Sanjay Das, to accompany me every where I went.

I later realized that even though she has been my friend before but she has never been out in public with me. Never before I returned from Rajpur. Were both of them unsavoury characters? Too ill-reputed? Or were they just pointing me out to their chums plus brushing their mud in my clean sleeve as much as they could.

Any way, those two leeches disengaged themselves from me after a year of my return from Rajpur. And I paid the price for next four years. Finally I left Shangri=la behind forever.

5. How come some of the students of a nearby type institute have stunning similarity with some of the girls, friends of Sulata in Rajpur? Shree has been a student of that institute for years.

The puzzles I pieced together were Sulata followed me to Kolkata with another woman. That woman most probably presented herself to people as me. She had an access to my rooms with the cooperation from Shiv and Shree. Shree used to invite me at her home for days and this mysterious woman used to use my rooms pretending as me.

When I met Sulata five years later, using another name and family, I noted that some of her staffs resembled spookily with the people of the tea-stall outside Shangri-la. And she had a staff whose voice and way of speaking was awfully similar to mine. Actually it was surprisingly similar, though we looked different and she looked like one of the girls of Rajpur.

Now I believe Keshav must have sent both of them at my heels along with sanjay. To scare me and ruin me. They followed me, or may be reached Shangri-la before me. When I returned they have already laid the foundation.

There were so many weak points to be encashed, Shiv’s extravaganza, Seemana’s easy morale.

Adding up to that I heard that Shiv has brought a young girl from village to work for them and Seemana has thrashed her so much one day that she ran away from home. One of the shop owners outside our home saw her crying, and instead of returning her to her family, he took her home and kept her there. Quite interesting a story for me.

III. The stench:

My condition there was of any normal human being who has fallen into a pit full of worms and is trying to crawl out. The worms with their slithery body making it extremely tough.

All of a sudden I observed that I have created a lot of deadly enemies. No I am not one of those persons who love to create enemies. I had a great reputation for being too soft. Every one used to preach me to become a little selfish and ruthless. I usually give up my own right to avoid nastiness. But to my utter surprise I started to meet them again and again. They were mostly women or men of extremely repulsive nature and character.

That is why I later started to suspect that someone else has been using my name and identity with the help of Sulata and the second girl to ruin my life, to fulfill the prophecy of Keshav Devil. Though it might have been absolutely wrong, but that nagging feeling lingered inside me.

There was some thing very wrong in that household and that wrong has surfaced in the two years I was absent from there.

To my deep embarrassment the electricians refused to go to the house and fix the wirings of my room, they bluntly told me that it has become a den of anti social activities.

I heard from at-least half a dozen persons that antisocial elements lurk outside and inside that house. They even suggested me to keep the doors bolted from inside during day hours.

A suggestion which I was not going to take. The first thing I did was I cleaned up the jungle in the garden and placed a light in the garden.

I have noted that right after the darkness the activities all of a sudden jumped up in Mandal household. Men and women started to come in and out of there rooms. Partho’s comrade brothers and sisters were always eager to visit their rooms after darkness.

I never visited their rooms because I noted after my return from Rajpur that corruption has gone over the heads of that family. They have become very rich in two years. And the boy who used to call me aunty and wear Chanchal’s discarded clothes has followed his sister and was eying me.

The moment I dared to venture out in the verandah he used to appear like a disgusting apparition. The party office where he has dedicated his body and soul was visible from my verandah so it must have been the other way round too.

His shamelessness was beyond words. With wholehearted love of Shree, Seemana and Sumit his audacity was beyond limits. They just doted after him. Specially Shree and Seemana.

I was almost sure that he stalked me wherever I went but he was too sly, he always wore helmet and sat on the backseat facing away from me.

But with time I became familiar with the scooter and I heard his voice once or twice. A thing which is hard to hide.

I have seen his mother Shyama whispering to the passengers/drivers of a fiat, one of the models which have stalked me since my days in Rajpur. This was one car which has been almost my shadow. But I was only familiar with the cars, just like any panic stricken person I failed to read the numbers and I might have been panicked or Sumit might have been right. They were different cars, but were deliberately following me to scare me. To keep me under pressure or trying to make me panic so Keshav uncle can say that I am an idiot or lunatic.

When Mandal and Shiv noted that I have placed a bulb in the garden and am monitoring the movements they got the power line to the house disconnected.

They ruled the house in cahoots it seemed. An invisible understanding was always working within them. Shiv has always been extremely close to that family, it was quite a miracle that he did not married Doll, their daughter. He was not that obedient to his mother, may be he had some other plans. Too sly plans for an ordinary girl like me to understand.

In observing him from close angle I have realized one thing, that he was weaker version of Keshav. If he had money and power he would have pulled up devil from hell and would have captured hell.

So, the story went like this, after my return it was decided that from now on Mandal and co. will have to pay for their electricity bills. In the thirty years of their stay in that house they were paying something for the first time. It was decided that each family will pay for four months.

Well, when Shiv’s first turn came he did not pay the bill; the men from Electricity department came and snapped the line.

They both hooked lines to their portions and left the rest of the house in darkness. Their activities resumed smoothly.

IV. Goodbye past:

This time I left no stone unturned. As it was my area I tried every door, my relatives, police, I even wrote letters asking legal suggestions about how to put that activity to a stop. I was suggested to “get proof”, nice, very nice, so now ordinary citizens will have to become sleuth, gather proofs, lodge case in court and get orders to STOP CRIMINAL ACTIVITIES. I just loved that part.

The strange response was from my family. I talked with them, wrote letters to them but all I received was nonchalance and ugly fingers pointed out at myself, why was I unmarried, and all of a sudden I started to hear that I was always suspected by them, well they sure wore their masks to utmost perfection because before going to Rajpur I lived under an illusion that they loved me a lot, whereas they have hated me since eternity, believing that I am indulged in filthiest activities.

May be they did not cared what was going on in that house. Or may be they did and were encashing it. I saw my uncles, the ones who wanted to sell the house having secret meetings with Mandal and his comrades.

This was also possible that my letters were intercepted because Sanjay took care of that before he left I believe.

Shiv’s mother and my mother had a joint fixed deposit. Chanchal used to send me the interest of that account every month. Earlier it was deposited in bank, but that amount was now in Jhumamasi’s hands because I transferred it all to Rajpur.

When Sanjay used to visit he once asked me how was I meeting my needs, I blurted out to him that it was with the money of interest I receive every month. He pried out the way it reaches me and for the next two months the couriers did not came.

Adding up to that, I noted someone used to enter my rooms when I was at Shree’s home because my money and other things were vanishing. So I ended up in dire straits. Chanchal said that he contacted the courier service and they said that the money has reached their Kolkata office. From next month chanchal started to send the money by post. I spent those two months eating one time a day.

Every letter that reached me came open. Someone brazenly opened them and read them. The only exceptions were when the post man handed them in my hands. He was a wonderful guy. Being a resident of that area he most probably knew the condition of that house, so he tried his level best to hand the letters to me, none else. He even used to take them back with him if I was not around.

He retired after a year of my return. The remaining three years I spent in Shangri-la were without a single letter in my name.

It seemed they were hell bent to make me leave my house and there boldness was increasing with every passing day.

Their kingpin was that dog, Partho Mandal, who was once fed by my own hands, treated as own nephew.

His behaviours resembled with those of a rabid dog. Most of the time his activities were not caught but sometimes they were. He seemed to hate every thing I liked.

He used to mercilessly chop of trees which I cared for, break the pots in which I left water for squirrels. No, there was no chance of teaching him a lesson; he had dozens of comrades scratching his back. He was their pet darling.

I slowly realized that I will only lose my own virtues by staying with those soul-less filthy animals. So I decided to leave that place forever.

Any type of discussion with my family members back-fired. It resulted in revitalized attacks. Getting dirtier and dirtier every time. So, after fighting like an idiot for four years, paying the price by ruining my reputation, I decided to erase that family out of my life. To treat myself like an orphan out of orphanage then onwards.

I thought that I have left them behind; my illusion was broken when they followed me to my new area. But by then I have become proof of all their monkey businesses, eaves-dropping, stalking, harassment at street. Cowards often compare brave people with themselves and turn out to be fools. I was only surprised that why were they following me.

Then I met Sulata and my questions were answered. I came to know that she was the manager of a company in which one of my cousins has worked for thirty years.

I recalled that this cousin of mine has placed a lot of my cousins in various jobs, including sons and daughters of both my uncles who were in cahoots with Mandal.

That daughter and grand daughter of that uncle worked in media. And my cousin was manager of a reputed bank in Delhi.

If they were involved with Keshav then I could realize their earnesty to ruin me. Their own blood, who was once adored by them.

I firmly started to believe that Keshav worked through families. That is he forced/lured his employees (?) to trap their own family members. In that way the business will run safely, a lot more safely than if they pick up at random and the families of their victims support them when they escape or are killed.

That is why I was not surprised any more when I met people resembling each other too much again and again. People who had ample amount of similarity with each other, like cousins or relations resemble. They all have one thing in common; they had some serious problem with me from the day one.

Well, two examples to make thing a little clearer, Chanchal’s mother passed away in Rajpur. We had a very close relationship. At that time I was working in an office in kolkata, there was a girl named Soma Dey in that office. I have never set my eyes on her face, yet when she came to know about the mishap she called for a party among her friends, and continued that for next seven days. She was always very cautious to hold all the celebrations near me.

The next office I joined after leaving Sulata’s office, the owner of that office was Marwari but he had quite a similarity with Soma. And I saw a woman in his family album who bore too much similarity with Sulata. They were different but the similarity was awesome. More than one thing happened with me while I worked in that office that can be termed as attempt to harm or kill. Two were quite serious, in both cases my physical agility saved me from being crippled/maimed or killed. Both could be passed off as accidents.

Then the next fraud institute I joined, it again had a young girl with stunning similarity with Sulata. A creepy fellow Arindam Guha, who has worked in my locality as a medical representative for more than ten years. In the area near my college. To add up to that, he lived near my home at that time. So one thing was for sure, Keshav was into something ugly and his dogs were going to be on my heels for the rest of my life.

There were so many things in blue star which were not at all natural. The immense wealth of the employees. Their audacity of mistreating their boss’s relatives. And another weird thing. The thing which first made me certain that there was some thing creepy going on in there.

Well, just like every office there were more than a dozen employees. Now each of them had a name of their own. And during the last month of my stay in Blue Star I became confident of one thing that the names remain same but the men change. They have bunched up people with slight or more similarity and keep shuffling them. A person’s every thing can change but his eye’s colours can’t change. I have seen one man with three colours of retina. No he did not wear a contact lens. Was it some kind of cover up? Officially he was present here but actually he was somewhere else, doing something?

Second thing happened in my swimming lessons; there were at least a dozen more swimmers when I joined. After a month or so they asked me about myself. I told them, they all vanished next day. I met one of the women later on street but her companion rudely called her away within a minute.

There was a visible disrespect for Keshav and Jhuma; I thought it was because of the type of their relationship but not any more. If it was something that trifle it would have ended in Rajpur, no one would have followed me back to Kolkata and hounded me thereafter.

Every job I joined after returning from Rajpur had something to do with either Chartered Accountants, lawyers, people immersed in debt or people locked in legal battle.

And these employers and their employees were universally hostile to me. Hostile and nasty.

Keshav’s brother published a monthly journal on law and income tax. He had a strong customer base all over India.

Later Chanchal pointed it out to me, may be with his money and spies he is forcing me to always end up in the clutches of his victims or pet dogs. So that I end up frustrated or commit suicide or he could happily brand me lunatic or utter failure. Cite me as an example of fury of his “God’s hand” to his other victims.

During the last three years I was in Shangri-la I worked on myself and came out as a person I was satisfied with. A person without any attachment or weakness.

A woman they could not hit from any angle any more. Every time they ruined some thing from my life I conquered my desire for that thing.

After all, its desire which torments us. If we destroy the desire no human being will ever be able to torment us.

This mindset delivered me from all the filth and cruelty which the showered down on me.

They left me with only one goal, wherever or whenever I will get a chance I will share my story with others. So that they never get to ruin another innocent person.

V. lessons learnt by second meeting:

My second meeting with Sulata cleared half or may be more of my confusions.

She was now a daughter of a very rich Bengali man (LOL), wife of a manager of a reputed company and manager of another reputed company herself.

I have by then known that Sanjay was not Shruti or Chanchal’s friend. It was a black lie. They both denied ever knowing him. Even when Chanchal met him face to face a few times he did not showed any sign of knowing Chanchal from his college days.

Her staffs near my home (I will include Chaitali and her sisters and Sanjay therein) tried there level best to prove that I have psychiatric problems.

I was at a time surprised by the weird ways of their acting. Eavesdropping then brazenly letting me know, mocking me.

Then after my meeting with Sulata, after two or three failed attempts of killing or maiming me I joined a fraud institute. I was tired of being stalked by her dogs everywhere so I thought about doing something home based.

When I went to the original building I was referred to another address where they have shifted.

I firmly believe one of my net friends is either Sulata, some one she can trust or her Bengali mother. That person pried out my plans so expertly that I believe she is most probably a woman. So let me refer to her as “she”, she knew my plans of joining this institute. She was always in touch with me when those accidents happened, well, cell phones can be used to pin point your location or point you out in a crowd.

On my way to the institute I met Sulata’s Kolkata father. He did not note me but I did. Because he is a strikingly handsome man.
Next I saw one of her Kolkata staff’s Ragini Singh standing in a hi-fi shop there.

Finally I met an extremely hostile girl in that institute who had so much similarity with sulata that when I showed her sulata’s photograph she cringed.

Now this institute deals with psychiatric problems and their treatment. I noted with great amusement that the fears they were trying me to speak out were all psychiatric problems. Stalking, eavesdropping, hostility of strangers. Someone conspiring against you.

That office was situated opposite the office of the company in which Sulata was manager and my cousin has worked for thirty hears.

There are three types of people expert in stalking, detective agencies, media and intelligence. I had two of them in very close quarters. Media and detective agency. Mandal has worked for an agency which supplied security guards and worked as paid detective for years.

My uncles who have kept Mandal family in the home, one of their daughters has worked in media for years. She has even trained her daughter and placed her in media.

Small and big things exposed their game to me. I remember how Sanjay told me once; if you want to ruin someone’s reputation, don’t let her hear, let the neighbours hear the lies.

A thing I have seen happen to many times afterwards. They used to target the people I mixed with and slowly succeeded in alienating me in my own locality, well they had my family to help them; otherwise I don’t know how much they would have succeeded.

So, standing here I know that Keshav did had a deep connection with people surrounding me. May be for years.

I believe they must have mistaken me for a normal Indian woman who will commit suicide or go insane. They failed to realize a big truth, every one does not crawls or lies down to die. That is why truth is still alive in this earth.

I heard so many canards spread about me after my return from Rajpur that I became canard-proof. They destroyed so many things I liked that I rose above attachment. Every angle they chose to hit me they failed and I rose far higher above them.

The higher I rose the more determined I became that if I get a chance I will expose them, so that their dirty empire crumbles down to the hell along with them. The place where they belong.

KINGMAKER- A HORROR BASED ON REALITY

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction, a take on organized crime in India, which apparently is very thriving business here, have learnt this harsh truth through experience, may be its same all over the world. A normal citizen’s attempt to analyse how these organizations grew so very strong :(

Its an absolute fiction but the incidents described in it are mostly gathered from various real life incidents and then patched randomly. They dont have any interlink in reality (i hope), but I wont be least surprised if they have, a writer’s vivid imagination sometimes starts to spin its own carpet and in some real life nightmares they come true.

So These are real life incidents pasted in a collage, an attempt to make a perfect picture out of them.

Most important of all this story is a continuation of Honey Trap, a story which is absolutely fact based. This on the other hand is the searching of answers for the things that happened in Honey Trap.

Just imagine in your worst nightmare that the things that happened to the heroine of Honey Trap happened with you, will you lay down your weapons and die or try to search the answers? Even if the life bluntly refuses to supply you with the slightest proof?

FEW URLS you can check:

http://books.google.co.in/books?id=1xFnEyqFupUC&pg=PA160&lpg=PA160&dq=bediya%2Bhuman+trafficking%2Bsankar+sen&source=bl&ots=G3YwLzSZPC&sig=tlpZJHxs1T68v0SBVUBZKfNyU_8&hl=en&ei=E8-STaPWIcSxcfClqIkH&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CB8Q6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

http://teenadvice.about.com/library/weekly/aa062502a.htm

http://www.nhrc.nic.in/Documents/ReportonTrafficking.pdf

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the story is here:

http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com/kingmaker-2/

in case you get curious to know the incidents that molded this story into making you can read honeytrap, that story is here:

http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com/honey-trap/

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Some stories in my other blogs

gulity soul 25.3.14

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TWO
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“It’s alright Krishna…” Raju said. Deep in their hearts they both knew it was not… a dark shadow of gloom has clutched their young lives in its vicious talons.

Was it gloom or curse.

Mr. Bhutoria handed him over a cheque, “All you will have to do is keep that girl away from my son… I dont care how you do it, I will pay you the money, you will have to do the thinking and in a way that it does not gives any inkling that I am involved. I dont want my relationship with my family get ruined because of a girl.”

He involved his father, his brother and that “girl’s” brother. They shared the booty and his father, impersonating him kept the girl in his clutches, she lived in a fool’s paradise that she loved a young man, her age, who was about to marry her.

By the time she guessed it, it was too late.

Krishna and his father, brother has played their roles well, they have convinced Mr. Bhutoria’s son that his dreamgirl was having a flings with two men at a time, father and son, both married. Their wives went crazy and ruined the girls reputation, quite justly.

The girl disappeared from their vicinity. No one knew if she was dead or alive. That day their five year old son died, in a mysterious fever.

Ten years have passed since that day, every time a child is conceived… it dies.

They both sit and time after time it comes to their mind how much that girl wanted to have a child of her own, more than anything else before they showed up in her life…

YOU WILL FIND THE REST HERE: wingofdreams.wordpress.com/long-stories/guilty-soul/

IF IT INTRIGUES YOU, THEN YOU CAN CHECK OUT THESE PAGES TOO :)

earthinbw.wordpress.com/a-little-bunch-of-stories/
magicthought.wordpress.com/long-stories-collection/
magicthought.wordpress.com/special-short-stories-collection/
etherealpaints.wordpress.com/some-long-stories/

My recent posts and wordpress blogs

AD

I often have one or more sticky posts that stay frigid while i keep adding fresh posts, sometimes my friends too get confused when they are looking for the new posts, well they are lined up in the right side column.

FOR REASONS KNOWN ONLY TO ITSELF THIS THEME SHRINKS JPG FILES/PHOTOS REFRESHING THE PAGE WORKS FOR MY COMPUTER, I HOPE AND PRAY IT WILL WORK IN YOUR COMPUTER TOO!

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the list of my blogs in wordpress:

1. Sharmishtha Basu’s Poetries: http://mydomainpvt.wordpress.com : Mainly Poetries.
2. Thoughts: http://magicthought.wordpress.com : Stories mainly.
3. My cyber novels: http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com : novel, long stories, musings, cartoons etc
4. Window to my soul : http://window2mysoul.wordpress.com : mainly form poetry
5. Sharmishtha Basu : http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com : My haiku, piku, lanturne, tanka blog.
6. Ethereal heights: http://etherealheights.wordpress.com- Celebrating peace and beauty.
7. Earth in black and white: http://earthinbw.wordpress.com – The real world.
8. Colours and words waltz: http://coloursandwordswaltz.wordpress.com – poetry and paintings.
9. Daintypetals: http://daintypetals.wordpress.com – portfolio blog- no rigid contents.
10.And I dreamed….: http://andidreamed.wordpress.com – portfolio blog – again, no rigid contents.
11. Wing of dreams …: http://wingofdreams.wordpress.com – story blog dedicated to small stories.
12. ethereal paints…: http://etheralpaints.wordpress.com – stories mainly, smaller ones are tried.

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4 and 9 are partially private, shared with those who are interested to read my blabberings, if you want to read do leave a message here, dont click the button supplied by wordpress, the results dont reach me… I will send you the invitation in the email id attached to your comment.

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JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER WRITER UNDER THE STARS I TOO DREAM OF MY WORKS GETTING PUBLISHED. SO IN CASE YOU THINK MY WORKS ARE WORTHY ENOUGH PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CONTACT ME AND MAKE ME ONE HAPPY PERSON.

My hotmail ids are acting haywire so DONT WRITE ME ANY MAILS IN sharmishthabasu@live.in :)

one thing wont surprise me, that will be if some is using that email address, because even though i quite correctly filled up the form supplied by hotmail it bluntly said that the informations are not accurate, so, chances are high that someone hacked in and changed the information. I have finally called it quits and have CLOSED TWO OF MY HOTMAIL ACCOUNTS, ONE IS THIS ONE.

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MY ONLY FB ACCOUNT FOR FRIENDS

and in case you dont already know, i have joined facebook this february and my address there is facebook.com/sharmishtha.basu.50 – my doors are always open for friends. if you feel something is missing there, that is your invitation has been mishandled or something weirder do let me know!!! here. you can try my new email id in yahoo too- sermistabasu@yahoo.co.in

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DPS 23.3.13

THANK YOU FROM THE DEEPEST DEPTH OF MY HEART TO ALL OF THOSE WHO THINK ME WORTHY OF THESE BEAUTIFUL THINGS. I HOPE YOU WILL FORGIVE MY SHYNESS TO SHOW THESE OFF!

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sharmishtha basu
1.3.14

disturbed… the crazy one

meditation

She just could not stay away from her… to play safe, she always picked up male identities, the fear always ruled inside her cheating, lying heart that her husband will one day discover that she was a repulsive monster and go back to the one he loved with all his heart, before she entered the game.

On one hand she and her hired dogs made the life of her rival miserable, sucking out all the positive charm that she had, the charm that won her husband’s heart once.

On the other hand she kept trying again and again that she falls for one of her dogs or joins some monastery, some ashram… anything… so that she could finally forget her.

How she wished that a lightning struck her and she died… but she did not, and her dogs kept telling her that she was quite happy too.

She could never understand that if the curses, prayers of vultures worked the world will run out of other living animals. So God ignores their prayers.

Seven Sentence Story 3.4.14