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Who is a Celebrity?

I was born and brought up in a Metropolis like Mumbai.  I had a pretty contented childhood. My early school days were full of fun. On the way to the school there happened to be a temple. Outside the temple stood a tall lean lady, with a short cane in her hand and a cow in toe. She wore a thick round glass spects. She always carried a sack. The sack was made by loosely knotting four corners of a square piece of cloth, into a big central knot.  The centrally knotted cloth held strands of grass, and vegetable peels collected from the vegetable market. She spoke in a high pitch shrill voice even to the cow she tagged along all the way to the temple. She brandished the cane as she spoke. I and my friends were a little scared of the cane. Evevery day on the way to the school we spent a few minutes to watch the cow. She just shooed us away the moment we lingered around. Occasionally my mother gave me 10 paise. Which I handed over to the cow woman. In return she allowed each one of...
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नाकाची गम्मत!

प्राची लवकर कर!! शाळेला उशीर होईल! आई रागावाली. तशी मी बास्केट घेतली आणी स्कूटर वर पुढे उभे राहीले. प्राची घट्ट धर! तोंड उघड ठेवू नकोस! धूळ तोंडात जाईल! आई म्हणाली. पण तरी मी मधून मधून तोंड उघडत होतेच. तेवढीच आपली गम्मत. स्कूटर चालू झाली. आम्ही आता गल्लीतून मुख्य रस्त्याला आलो. कीती तरी मोटारी, स्कूटर आमच्या पुढे जात होत्या. सारखे आपले हॉर्न वाजवत होते. मी आईला म्हणाले जोरात चालव! उशीर होतोय!  आई म्हणाली गर्दी कीती आहे. खड्डे तरी कीती. त्यात सारे नुसते मधे मधे धडपडतात कीती. मी आकाशात बघितले. निळ्या आकाशात   ढग च ढग होते. ते सुद्धा आमच्या बारोबर येत होते. ते नेहमी शाळेत सुद्धा आमच्या आधी पोहचतात. आई ढग आपल्या आधी का पोहचतात?  ते आकाशात असतात म्हणून.  तू स्कूटर आकाशातून का नाही चालवत? बेटा स्कूटरला पंख नाहीत. म्हणून ती उडत नाही. भो! भोSS! गुर्र! गुर्र! क्यांव क्यांव! असे भांडत कुत्री एकदम मधेच घुसली. मला भीतिच वाटली. स्कूटर एकदम हलली! माझा तोलच गेला. माझ डोक आपटल. स्कूटर मधेच रस्त्यात थांबली. बास्केट खाली रस्त्यात पडली. मी रडायला लागले. माझ नाक दूखत होत म्हणून मी डोळे ...
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Evening Sun

Sun looked back, "Oh! Like me the day too has progressed." that is what he murmured.  Sun was treading the last leg of its daily path. The last leg being slippery, a lot of efforts went in to hold on to the point. Yet the Sun could barely manage to float over the surf. At the same the Sun was busy in scattering the crimson streaks around the western horizon. The fluffy clouds made every effort to gobble up the streaks. Streaks were too slippery. The agile streaks simply sprayed all the hue over the clouds. The turbulent wave were bent upon grabbing the Sun and pull it in. The waves for long wished to immerse the Sun in the vast sea and rob the sheen. Waves hoped to see the crinkled, wrinkled Sun to emerge out and beg for the lost sheen. The chance to witness irresistible opportunity is what draws me to the beach. You will find more of such write-up in digital media @ INDIAN FLAVOUR SHORT STORIES . Part - 1 / 2 /3 @ AMAZON /Books / e-books
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