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  • The Short Story “Online”, Depicting The Love Of Grandfather And Grandson, How Madan Prayed To That Beggar, Showing The Short Story “God With Impulse”

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Short story: online
Writer: Sharmila Chauhan

Dada ji used to complain about children being ‘online’. But he liked to do it himself for the time pass. Due to Corona, the Katta group of older people had been in despair for the last three-four months. First, they used to talk about the world daily, share each other’s happiness and sorrow and also enjoy tea and breakfast with some excuse. Everyone had fun together by bringing home-made breakfast on their birthday.

But by March, all were imprisoned in their respective homes. It has been reported that this virus quickly catches children and the elderly, due to which all were closed in their homes. One evening, some people of the group looked at each other from their balcony and shook hands.

When Gupta’s grandson Ankit saw it, he asked, ‘Dadaji … You have not met for a long time, no?’ On this, grandfather nodded yes. Ankit informed everyone, saying ‘You all have a phone … you guys have also formed a WhatsApp group, so all of you can do online video chat today.’

Now half an hour later, there were loud talking and blaring sounds from Grandpa’s room. Everyone seemed to be talking face to face.

‘Why grandfather, how do you feel now? Is online work good or not…? ”Ankit asked with a mischievous smile. ‘Hey..!

We elders enjoyed it. But don’t waste your time on this, and feel like in your studies, this is the time of the empty people like us. ‘After this, the laughter of grandparents started echoing and the fear of Corona disappeared for a while.

Short story: enjoyment to God
Author: Naveen Gautam

Hey! Has all the confectionery arrived? Madan asked his younger brother Umesh. Umesh said, “Yes brother, he has come.” The confectioner and his men have also arrived, they will just cook and give it in 2-3 hours. ”Madan was very happy today. Today his five-year-old son had a shaving ceremony.

The movement of guests had started. Both of them were engaged in welcoming the guests. The auspicious time of Mundan was at 11 o’clock in the morning, so Nathu had also come to complete the rites on time. The Puja was completed. On the other hand, Nathu was also sitting on the stairs with his razor.

When Mundan started, Kamini took all the hairs off of her son in her bag. Then the priest said, ‘Sir! If the food is ready then bring it, we will offer it to God. ”Saying” Ji Pandit ji “, Madan ran towards the front Dharamshala to take the enjoyment.

Madan placed dal-baati, churma’s bhog in the plate and the temple grew. He was gradually moving towards the temple with slow steps, when someone made a voice from behind, ‘Babuji! I am hungry since morning, give me something to eat. ”Madan looked back and saw a bewildered beggar staring at him.

Seeing his poor condition, Madan’s compassion rose in his mind, but he was still confused how to give enjoyment. But Madan became emotional and started thinking in his mind that maybe God also wants this, then he came to the fore while taking his enjoyment.

He extended the enjoyment of dal-baati, churma to the beggar and said, ‘Baba! Take food. ”The beggar felt very happy and was eating his food repeatedly, raising his hands repeatedly as if he was giving him a lot of blessings.

Madan went back to Dharamshala, wiping Khushi’s tears. ‘Hey! Where were you for so long? Has God been offered an indulgence? ”Kamini asked, then Madan, sitting on the stairs looking at the person eating whole heartedly, said,“ Yes! Got it, God was consumed. ‘

Poem: Happiness

Author: Kapil Kumar Kurve

I and he were wandering on the coast of the sea, he said, tell me a pleasant poem of happiness, of my life, I wrote with my finger on the sand of the coast, happiness, sorrow and after a few moments, the waves erased the joy and sorrow. Was watching but could not understand the happiness was first erased or the sorrow…. I did not write life, nor was I able to see it disappearing, looking in his eyes, I said, ‘This was the poem and this is how the story is.’

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