short-story-all-in-a-nights-work

All in a Night’s Work

Hello everyone! Welcome or welcome back to my blog. Today I am back with another story. I hope you enjoyed the my previous posts as well, if not, please do go and check them out. So, here we go:


Elizabeth overflowed with joy. One of the most important days in the life of a student had ended on a happy note. She came out of her life’s last classroom, clutching the piece of paper that marks the turning point in most of our lives. Her father had promised to let her go on a solo trip to Mussoorie if she secured more than ninety percent in her twelfth boards. She had done so with flying colors and had secured ninety-two percent. On seeing the results, her father immediately ordered a box of sweets to be brought and distributed in the locality, and set about booking her tickets. Elizabeth started the preparations right away. The Josephs lived in Bangalore and Dehradun seemed like a distant, far-flung city that existed only in films. They had never travelled out of Karnataka, except to visit their village in Goa.

The day finally dawned to find a excited Elizabeth hurrying about to finish her packing. All the arrangements had been done. She was to first travel to Delhi by air and then from Delhi to Dehradun to Mussoorie by car. The whole family came to drop her off at the airport as she bid them good-bye. She arrived at Dehradun, the neighborhood of her favorite author. She had often hoped of becoming a writer, but could never write good stories(or so she thought). But little did she know, that she was going to be proved frightfully wrong. She decided on a whim, as she got off the Shatabdi at Dehradun that while in Mussoorie, she was not going to bond with Ruskin. With James maybe but definitely not with Ruskin. Bond was her favorite author, but she knew that she couldn’t just go and stay with him. He of course wouldn’t allow anybody to come and stay with him just like that. However, she liked to think of herself as superior to him and the decision of not wanting to bond with Mr. Bond was the result of that. She wanted herself to be the one deciding whether to meet people or not. She stood on the platform listlessly, trying to evaluate her hypothetical decision of not wanting to meet Bond, when the whistle of the train made her snap out of her reverie. The train slowly started moving backwards. Dehradun was its last stop and it was supposed to return to Delhi the very same day.

Elizabeth had come to Dehradun on vacation. To her, it seemed like bliss, to leave the hot dusty plains of Delhi and come to this cool paradise. As she stepped out from the railway station, she was greeted by this riot of color. There were vendors selling all kinds of foodstuffs and artefacts. But she wasn’t interested in these, her first priority was straight in front of her: a long line of rickshawallas. She headed straight for them, and after a lot of bargaining, she finally agreed to go with the one who charged the least. If there are two thing that are indigenous to India, they are the presence of these rickshaws and the age-old Indian habit of haggling. There are few residents in this country of 1.34 billion who do not know, or care for the art of haggling. From the richest of men to the poorest of beggars, are always on the lookout for a good bargain. Driving through the streets of Dehradun, Elizabeth could feel blood surge through her veins again. Until now, it had just been a total chaos. Her timetable included only four things: eat, sleep, study, repeat. She was oblivious to the world around her. But now, she was carefree. She had passed out of college and was going to start her work life. She started becoming aware of the beautiful world around her. By the time they reached her lodgings, she was beside herself with joy and was looking forward to a topping holiday. She had always wanted to be an author, but on her parents’ prompting, she finally agreed to pursue commerce. Although she wrote many short stories, she could never muster enough courage to publish them. She kept promising herself that she would publish them the day she wrote her best story. But that day, as you might already have anticipated, never came. One of the main reasons of her coming to Dehradun was that she could finally meet Mr. Ruskin Bond, but unfortunately, he was away attending a function in Chandigarh, and Elizabeth had to postpone her meeting for a few days. The next few days passed in anxiety and restlessness. As the day of the meeting finally dawned, she was ecstatic. She hurriedly dressed up and headed for the famous coffee shop in Landour, where Bond meets his fans. As she reached, she went up to the counter and asked for her appointment. Her face fell when she was informed that the author had taken ill and would not be available for the next few weeks. A morose Elizabeth walked out of the shop. Not only had her chance of meeting him was lost, but also she now realized that she had four days more to spend and with nothing to do. She had planned on staying in Landour for a while and then returning back, but now there was no point in doing so. She spent the remainder of the day planning out the future of her holiday. In the evening , she went out for a walk to get some fresh air. She kept on walking and soon reached the market. As she was walking along, she spied a poster on a wall. As she went closer, she saw that the poster was an advertisement for one of the most prestigious short-story competition in the country.

The theme for the story was to be based on the life of people in India. The authors were free to choose any region from India and write a story related to the life of people from that region. Her fate was sealed. The next morning found Elizabeth fresh and cheerful. She woke up early, and started for the market. With her, she only carried a foldable chair, a notebook , a pen and a water bottle. She walked towards the market and sat down under a tree on a small hillock, overlooking the market. The whole day, she sat there, taking down notes, finding inspiration, and jotting them down. Towards the evening, she returned to her hotel and wrote her story. This went on for the next three days. She would go to different places everyday, each crowded places, flocked by local vendors and tourists. On the third evening, she looked down upon her creation with pride. It was the first work that satisfied her. At last, she thought, ”I have written something I am proud of”. And she dashed the story off. She returned to Bangalore and forgot all about it. One day, she received a letter from a very famous author, requesting her to send the story she had written to him. He found the story very attractive and wanted the permission to publish it. Her head reeled when she read. It felt surreal. She was shocked . She did as she was requested and sent a few other stories along with it too. They got published and soon were a big hit. Now, however, due to the flawlessness of the human mind, she soon got tired of writing short stories. She wanted to aim bigger and started writing a novel. After a few months, it got completed, and it was published. It became a bestseller, which left her shocked. You don’t have people writing bestsellers on their first attempt. But, an even bigger surprise came a few weeks later. She received a letter. On opening it, she got the shock of her life. She had never felt so happy, and felt as if she would burst any moment. Her novel had been nominated for the Pulitzer prize! A day in April never came so sweet to show how costly summer was at hand as this letter came to show what an excellent career she was going to have.
She was already earning a lot from her royalties, plus the added bonus of the prize. She finally bought an estate in the country and built a huge mansion there. It was a palatial bungalow surrounded by lush forests. In it there were huge rooms, a large hall, a grand dining room with a big chandelier, the perfect study for her to write, and the most important of it, the library. Containing over five thousand books, it became her prized possession. She usually relied upon the surrounding nature for inspiration and used the library for other purposes such as entertainment, or enhancing her vocabulary. One day, after failing to find inspiration in nature, she came to the library. After looking for quite some time, she found the book she was looking for, perched on the top shelf. Fortunately, she was a tall girls and the lack of a ladder did not bother her. As she reached for her book, it suddenly slipped and fell on her head. She stumbled at first, then passed into oblivion.

The bright summer sunshine shimmered through the windows, past the curtains and gently fell on her eyes. They slowly opened, curiously looking at the blurry world around her. Gradually, the blur cleared up, both from her mind and her brain. She slowly started getting a sense of what was happening. Then she remembered her journey. From a girl just passed from her junior college, to an acclaimed writer of her dreams. It all seemed so wonderful to her, but for she felt that it had all ended really early. But that was true, because after all, it was all in a night’s work .

I hope you enjoyed reading this tale. If you did, stay tuned for more and if you did not, stay tuned anyways. Please subscribe, who knows, you might like something else I put up. So this is me, Arindam Bhaduri signing off.