stuck-in-the-mud

Now this story came up during a chat with a dear frend of mine who found it hard to accept changing times. Here is the story just the way it evolved.

the old man from timbuktoo

ther was dis ol man from timbuktoo hu dispised changes.

he wud say ‘shame on you’ if he saw cupls holding hands.

he wud turn his head away if he saw them kissing.

and belived them ded if they cried on each others shoulders.

he didnt like it wen housewives got ovens in kitchens.

neither did he like it wen people read the mails on computers.

he lived in his old house wich had a huge kitchen but nobody to cook.

he lived alone in the dispicable house.

then one day in timbuktoo, there came an arising.

pepl demanded that the gvmnt provide more commutes,

trains

planes

nd the town to have malls, theatres,

nd companies that wil increase the revenue.

everybdy wantd developmnts but for the old man

he dispised buses wit new technologies

hated trains for their automatic doors and swipe machines

he felt sick wen he saw the malls wich grow exuberant wit pepl

and theatres wich told pepl stories of lands they have never seen

he thought companies and industries tried to squeeze pepl for their own fancies.

so he was the only one who ddint attend the peaceful march to the stadium.

when all neighbourhood fell silent, he cursed the whole world, lying down on his old bed.

then he heard a slow crunching noise from downstairs

sweat poured from his forehed as he listend the steps growing bolder

sombody was definitly cuming towards his bedroom.

he listend intently as the steps went from room to room

he cudnt move a limb out of fear.

the bed soaked from his sweat.

he clutched to the side of the bed and his hands trembled under the strain.

slowly the door to the room opened wit a slow creak and

he saw was a foot wit a black boot on.

suddenly his head swimmed and he felt a searing pain in his head.

he was too scared to scream and squeezed his eyes tight.

the pain grew and grew and he felt that this was the end.

then he fainted.

the whole town when they came back were stil talking about the speeches the leaders made.

women talked how poised the leaders’ wives looked

how their diamonds shone in the sun

kids were still licking the sticky candies they bot from the sweet candy makers at the ground.

and they ddint even notice that the door to the old man’s house was ajar.

there was a fire spreading slowly from the kitchen

pepl wer still engrossed in discussions wen the fire suddenly roared and the roof came down with a crash

there wer loud cries and screams out of surprise, shock and pity

but before they cud do anything, the fire swallowed the old house with a vengence.

pepl returned to discussions after the memorial ceremony conducted for the old man

they discussed how withered and tired he luked from his trips to the town, since he wudnt use the new buses but wud wait for an old one.

how weak he was as he ddint buy anythg from malls and grew his own vegetables in the bakyard.

how unhealthy he was since he ddint take checkups in the multi specialty hosplitals

and how unsafe he was since his was the only house witout burglr or fire alarms.

but there was nothing they cud do abt it.

they thought this incident mite encorage the govt to open nursing homes in the town.

they cudnt think of any other good coming out of the old man’s death.

they sighed deeply and went home to rest for the day.

THE END

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