www.storymania.com
Storymania Logo

 

 

Short Stories




The Squirrel And The Farmer by Matt Kornatz - [1 words]
The Rain by Julia Sky A story about a poverished young girl who chases her ultimate dream. [1,569 words]
Red Line-911 by David Aldridge - [1 words]
25th Mile by Firsttime Story Earthquake devastates California, Leaving Thousands dead, hungry, homeless and without hope. With the... [23,199 words]
Who Is The Hero? by Gregory J Christiano Schoolyard bullies have always intimidated their classmates. But what if a boy refuses to fig... [1,534 words]
White Thoughts by Natasha White Thoughts is a first person narrative detailing the life of a senior college student, unsur... [15,197 words]
Vicki's Comeback by Steven L Howard From the cutting edge of the knife to the cutting edge of success - her comeback was real this... [2,863 words]
The Threats Against Edward Solomon High by Bradley Grimes An unusual day at a high school. [4,313 words]
The Conversation by Seth Allen Judge not, lest you be judged... [2,089 words]
Simply Black Or White by Gerald L Bosacker A short piece. [1,211 words]
Shooting In Iraq by E Rocco Caldwell - [466 words]
Pastoral by Oscar Felix Norton Read the story. [6,194 words]
Off The Top Shelf by Buxton About a dream I had that let me see what kind of future we all face... [967 words]
My Last Night With Her by Rae A quick story. [448 words]
Lost In A Forest Of Cornstalks by Steph G A story about three young siblings who have an adventure in a nearby cornfield. [1,427 words]
Lenny's Last Jump! by Gregory J Christiano Two gangsters out for a night�s work, but they�re in for a surprise! [880 words]
I Met Him For The Last Time by Avis Narrative monologue. I think the title speaks for itself. [1,096 words]
General Inspection (Novel To Be) by Josh Anderson The beginnings of a murder mystery / psychological thriller / horror short sto... [1,670 words]
From The Outside Looking In by Kris Lemmonds Sometimes we search for things that are right in front of us. If we just stopped l... [1,495 words]
For What I'd Give by Josh Anderson This is the 6th and possibly final part to Serra's swamp, Axey finally begins to realize the ... [1,078 words]
Family Dinner. by Bradley Grimes A family's final meal together. [2,023 words]
Eurasia Underground V5 - A Future So Close (Narrative Proposition) by Josh Anderson Pilot chapter for a series of stories, game ... [676 words]
Dave by Abby M Lesczynski Character Sketch about my father. [1,432 words]
Careful What You Ask For... by Kris Lemmonds What do you do when the one thing you thought would make you happy doesn't? [1,716 words]
Card Sharps by Gregory J Christiano The poker game grew heated. The cheated card player lay dead on the floor! [1,309 words]
Butterflies by Kris Lemmonds A story of a first date. Complete with nerves and othe craziness. [3,069 words]
At Death's Door by Nur Syafiqah A Jaaffar - [441 words]
Anger, Depression, Bargaining, Denial, Acceptance. by Bradley Grimes The thoughts of Joseph Richard Patterson on November 13th, 2... [753 words]
A Warped Mind by Surge Some insight into a tortured mind. [325 words]
A Single Place Setting by Kris Lemmonds Sometimes someone comes along in our lives to impact us like no other can - for better o... [2,530 words]
A Shooting In Iraq---Part Two by E Rocco Caldwell The special opts his ranger squad conducted was illegal and may have resulted in ... [400 words]
The Piece Of His Heart Left Behind by Steven L Howard Through many years he had learned to hate this man. Now came a simple plea -... [2,237 words]
Ze Zen Ta (The Way Of The Thinking Fist) by E Rocco Caldwell First part of a potential novel. [692 words]
Waking Up To Light by Jessica M Brown A na�ve and apathetic young man is in a coma. He believes he is dreaming. When he thinks h... [650 words]
Us And The Monkeys
Too Hard A Promise by Steven L Howard He had never lied to his beloved, But can he promise what she asked? [1,658 words]
The July Tree by Brotherman A tale about stolen innocence. Based on an initiation I saw when I was 13. [2,126 words]
The Abduction Of Sammy Lee by Mark A Stuart Tale of a kidnapping in a small SouthWest Georgia town. [6,320 words]
Star Lights by Patricia Waldrop A short story about a small southern town who learned the lesson of drunk driving. [1,747 words]
Slow Down by Jack M Brown Peter's world speeds up inexplicably while his doctor tries to figure out what's wrong, watching him ... [1,472 words]
She Dances Down By The River by Susan Brassfield Cogan Danger in the firelight. [453 words]
Shattered Reflection by Josh Anderson The second part of Serra's Swamp, she had run away again. [1,051 words]
Serra's Swamp by Josh Anderson AxeY's foridden love. The first in a series I hope to release slowly, I would really appreciate a... [1,131 words]
Red Flannels by Higgins The moons were shining. [383 words]
Poltergeist Inc. Part Two by E Rocco Caldwell Hilliard Aerospace has a secret.... [390 words]
Poltergeist Inc. Part One by E Rocco Caldwell One corporation has figured out how to defeat it's competitors...cut all energy cost ... [683 words]
Next Time Father... by Josh Anderson The fourth part to the series of Serra's Swamp. Please check it out! [915 words]
Lost Christmas by Abbie Angel - [379 words]
Look Of Death by Josh Anderson The 5th part to serra's swamp. PLEASE read, it would be so much appreciated! :), thanks everyone. [789 words]
His Desire And Her Love by Josh Anderson Part three of Serra's Swamp, please review as im not so sure about this one. This one i... [542 words]
Halls Of Residence by Jack M Brown Blood, sweat, tears. The best of university education. But will the run-down Halls of Reside... [1,968 words]
Grandpappy's Red Flannels by Higgins The moon was out. [383 words]
Grake And Blues by Jack M Brown Nama 'Magician' Ustinov is convicted of genocide and sent to Hell. To get out early, he sets hi... [3,960 words]
Flight School by Mark A Stuart Story about a young boy's refusal to accept conventional wisdom. [1,733 words]
Fever by Angelique Armstrong A story about a young man who is contagious. [2,138 words]
Dying by Mark A Stuart Story of the coming death of a small town in SouthWest Geargia. [1,227 words]
Dying For A Memory by Abbie Angel When there is nothing left, what can you do? [228 words]
Driving Miss Rachel by Mark A Stuart Some advice on dealing with new drivers in your household. [719 words]
Dragon's Law by Richard Dragon If you like hard-boiled detective in the classic sense, this is for you. I'm a gumshoe by trade an... [1,826 words]
Diwali Surprise by Inchara Its about how a middle class family who could not afford much had a surprise diwali celebration... [1,165 words]
Dirty City by Abbie Angel Abbie Angel is running, hiding in a concrete and glass jungle. [696 words]
Comparisons by Mark A Stuart Being thankful for the things that you don't have. [1,020 words]
Charity by Mark A Stuart Lessons of about human kindness and the shortage thereof. [3,818 words]
Blood In The Snow by Josh Anderson An experiment... I decided to take one of my poems and turn it into a short story, im not sur... [285 words]
Bad Habits by Mark A Stuart Sometimes old habits aren't useful in new places. [710 words]
Angel Of The Morning Calm by Steven L Howard On his first overseas assignment he ignored the advice of seniors and almost lost it ... [13,863 words]
And The Light Returns !!! �� by Partha Pratim Majumder God finds out the earth with values eroded. To him, erosion of values means absolu... [1,392 words]
An Unexpected Visitor by Chad Alan Madson Boy who gets an unexpected visit while daydreaming. [1,228 words]
A Gunslinger's Death Is Always Best by Kevin Myrick The Sixth in the Sierra Madre Stories, finally typed up for your enjoyment.... [3,668 words]
The Dance Of A Lifetime by Courteney L Davison An english 8 assignment on a perfect moment. [160 words]
Seymours Christmas Wish by Amber A Whitman A light-hearted Christmas story of a lonely mouse. [523 words]
Mfoam by Diablo Hate Killer loose in twisted world. [617 words]
Dad's Christmas Tree by Ruby Alexandra Beloz The year was 1967 when Dad came home with a different type of Christmas Tree? [1,263 words]

Go to page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 [25] 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50
TITLE (EDIT)
Us And The Monkeys
DESCRIPTION
A walk through a busy street in madras provides some critical insight on life...
[1,456 words]
AUTHOR
Afreena Rahman
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I am a 17 year old newbee - any constructive criticism will be appreciated!
[December 2004]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
Us And The Monkeys
Afreena Rahman

I walk down the street and notice just how many people there are in my city of Madras, India. Cars are jammed in the streets, forever honking their horns; as if it is something the drivers are addicted to - a habit that is as natural as breathing or heart-beating. The smell of gasoline is overwhelming that I think must be unique to India alone. All kinds of vehicles line the streets, from cars to trucks, from rickshaws to autos, and even a lonely cow cart with an angry master holding a threatening whip. I can imagine all the people I can�t see inside the vehicles sweating and irritable, all wanting to go somewhere, all impatient. Around them are still people hording around the place like insects, like locusts, swarming to get wherever they need to go; but by the constant buzz of human activity you wonder whether anyone reaches a destination, or if they are forever walking, running, jumping over pits on the broken pavements, mothers holding their children�s hand tightly, painfully as if the sea of people will steal their kids away in a flash should they neglect them for even a fraction of a second. The children are looking around frantically trying to absorb everything around them, the sky musty with smog, the traffic lights, the driver yelling violently at each other about who should turn first out of the windows, the muddy water puddles they jump over, a lost chapel on the sidewalk.
And though all around me the scenery is the same, it seems like I am the only one noticing it. And I feel a light tug at my heart. And suddenly I feel sorry for the whole world.
I pass by vendors selling sliced un-ripened mango � deliciously seasoned some salt and chili powder (but never pepper). The sweet mix of hot and sour juice in the sultry day only makes you want to go back and ask for more. Few people but children, still innocent and oblivious to the games played by their adult parents, truly relish this taste. But everyone else is too absorbed in a world of deceit and strategy they do not have time to stop and enjoy what their children are able to. Other vendors sell peanuts and a mixture of spices and pastry, ridiculously overpriced. Other vendors stand in front of department stores selling accessories and handbags, waiting to trap foreign ladies who always fall victim to the five-fold original prices. The local women are much too experienced � mostly because they themselves sell sweet-scented jasmine flowers strung together by banana tree fibers for a rip-off price. I am reaching a train station � open to sky of course, and it looks empty compared to the crowded streets. Here are men, mostly old, dressed in the distinguishable red shirts and kailis or dhotis. Porters. And there is no reason for the deceit to stop here. The porters start with 50 and some even 100 rupees to carry luggage and are brought down by wary travelers to as low as 25 rupees. I buy the mango that has been tempting me ever since the crowded streets on the platform (they seem to follow you everywhere) and sit down to enjoy the only thing at the moment that is pure. The breeze is refreshing and the coconut trees in the distance sway gently. I hear a screech and turn. I see a monkey that sits some twenty yards away from me, sitting on top of a flight of stairs. There is no use trying to hide the mango � it has already seen it. And if there is anything I have learned about monkeys from my cousins who live here, it is never to make them angry; just give it up. Like the people here, even the animals will fight violently for what they deserve � and a little bit more. And it is the little bit more that throws everything off balance. I throw a small piece of the mango to it and it lands some feet away from it. It immediately climbs down the stairs and picks up the piece gently. It delicately holds the piece between its forefinger and thumb and bites of a piece with its teeth � like eating a banana. It almost makes me laugh � except I know warily what�s coming. The monkey quickly finishes off the piece and saunters towards me � stops about ten feet in front of me, and stares. I do nothing. It comes even closer and I am nervous. It stops again about three feet in front of me. Too close. We do nothing and it seems to be a stalemate when it suddenly lashes out at me with its paw. It does not touch my skin, but I yell out and stumble back, dropping the mango slices. The monkey calmly picks up what I bought and deserved, and walks back, clearly not giving a second thought about my disappointment, but already swimming in its pride of outwitting me. I get up, and a few amused faces look up at me. Self consciously I dust the bottom of my jeans and walk out.
By the exit, I am met by (I say met by because he thrusts himself at me) a small boy of about six or seven. He is wearing a very dirty shirt that was perhaps once white, and a pair of navy blue (now dusty white) shorts. His hair is dark brown, uncombed and quite clearly he is poor. In one hand he is holding a plastic bag with something inside. In the other he is holding samples. �Teepeti�. Matchboxes. I do not need matchboxes, but how can I explain that to the kid who probably has nothing to eat. Yet, I am sure he knows very well the greed and deceit involved in living in the streets. I also know that his mother must be nearby watching to see if his son has successfully put on a most exaggerated expression of self-pity. If he does not convince a customer to buy the once again over-priced matchboxes, he will be further tutored by his parent to put on an even more pitiful countenance the next time. Yet despite knowing all this, I feel pity for him, and his mother, and buy three matchboxes, all put together in another separate bag. I look at him while he is fumbling with the bags about his life and schooling, making it sound as casual as possible. He tells me he has, in fact, no parents, and just a sister of twelve, who takes care of him. I feel another tug of pity, another kind this time. I feel sorrow for him and going against all instinct, I give him an extra ten rupees, even though that is not very much. He takes it hesitantly and smiles a little. I am about to take the bag from him when I see he quietly slips in an extra box of matchsticks. I leave, feeling a little embarrassed and a trifle guilty.
It is time to go home and the sun will set soon. I walk home, a little more hastily than I had come, as if now I am part of the frenzy I witnessed only an hour before. I still see people bargaining their goods; I know it will continue throughout the night. And I wonder what has made our world so busy, so obsessed with cheating the people who can trust us to get the most out of anything. Small vendors to big businesses are all the same. Even the monkey knows no better � and I am starting to wonder whether we are a bad example to the monkey. I reach my home and push in the keys. But still, there is still some hope, I guess. I think about the poor boy with no parents. How sad he looked and how selfless he was when he gave away the extra matchbox when he could have sold it to another customer. It was starting to rain, and I am thankful I reached in time. I take off my coat and empty the pockets � the bag with the matchboxes. I empty them on the kitchen table, and go to the bathroom to take a dry towel to dry my slightly wet hair. When I come back with the towel still in my hands, I simply sift through the matchboxes, suddenly aware of how light they are. It suddenly strikes me and I am moved but yet I find the situation funny. Following instincts (like I should have always), I smashed down the boxes hard with my fist, laughing lightly.

Empty, of course.

 

READER'S REVIEWS (3)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.

"Enough is too much baby. Just chillllton dude...whats goin on between u and the monkeys?? i dont like this monkey business!! plz reply asap..." -- Maaz, Dubai.
"hey thanks a lot...no seriously...thanks alot... - A.Rahman" -- Afreena.
"wat the hell was tat ?? i spent 15 whole minutes readin TAT ?? hehe...jus kiddin dude...altough i dont no wat the hell u were thinkin wen u rote tat, i jus wanna say " Jus Chilltonnn dude... enjoy urself and stop screwin over the monkeys in Madras!!" anywayzz , im still gonna give u a 10 on 10 ..... Tats the Shittt !!!" -- Ebrahim , Sharjah, UAE.

TO DELETE UNWANTED REVIEWS CLICK HERE! (SELECT "MANAGE TITLE REVIEWS" ACTION)

Submit Your Review for Us And The Monkeys
Required fields are marked with (*).
Your e-mail address will not be displayed.

Your Name*     E-mail*

City     State/Province     Country

Your Review (please be constructive!)*


Please Enter Code*:

Submit Your Rating for Us And The Monkeys

Worst     1     2     3     4     5     6     7     8     9     10     Best

COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2004 Afreena Rahman
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
December 2004
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2360
 

Copyright © 1998-2001 Storymania Technologies Limited. All Rights Reserved.