Silent Shadows

2. An Article every month

The sound of the old typewriter clacked as the wrinkled hands pulled the return lever to the beginning of the line. The cigarette lay lifeless on the ashtray as the smoke from it waved its way up. The room was filled with smoke, and it would be difficult for a non-smoker to survive in it. Some remains from the cigarette fell on the papers lying on the table, but the person was busy typing. He had no time to clean up the mess made by him. The cigarette produced faint crackling sounds as the fire within it burnt the tobacco. The sound from the typewriter dominated the cranking sound produced from the dirty fan rotating over his head. The dim light from the tube light only added to the electricity bill. But instead of changing the light, the person had placed his table near the window to fulfil the light deficiency. Many half-burnt candles were kept near the table. The old hand picked up the cigarette, took a heavy drag, and puffed smoke like a steam engine.

The deadline was fast approaching, but Srinivas Rao was still struggling with his article. His hands moved swiftly as he continued typing the last paragraph of his article. The filter of the cigarette had burnt out, leaving no trace of it. The final rays of the setting sun filled his room, as his fingers moved from one alphabet to another. The tea on his table had already become cold and a thick layer of cream had formed on it. The tea danced to the tunes of the typewriter's vibration.

He raised his head after putting the final word to his article, followed by a full stop. 'Has the article arrived?'

'Yes, sir. As usual, it reached us today by post and has already been sent for printing. We are just waiting for your final article.' said Mohan Reddy, the associate editor.

A smile came across his face. He removed the paper from the typewriter and gave it to Mohan. He looked at the paper and forwarded it for a proof check before getting it published.

'It has been many years, I wanted to ask you about this article. What is so special about this article?' quizzed Mohan.

Srinivas smiled and signalled him to walk with him. They went to the tea stall in front of their house and ordered two teas, and sat on the bench near the stall. After his first sip of tea, he looked at Mohan.

'This story started with my father. My father loved our magazine more than anything in this world. So, when he started it, his only objective was to publish quality articles in it. To date, with a few tweaks, we have managed to keep my father's dream alive. In its initial days, the articles were limited, but within some days, they gained momentum. Many locals started reading it, and the demand for our magazine grew. With it, my father and Venugopal uncle decided to allot some columns for our readers. And this is where it all started.' Srinivas sipped his tea while taking a break.

'The articles kept on coming. Only some of them were worth publishing. Many kept on sending for the revenue attached to it. It was not a success initially, but Anup uncle took the responsibility to filter the articles for my father. Till last month, Anup uncle contributed to filtering the worthy article for us to read. His contribution is huge when it comes to our magazine. So, coming back to the story, with passing time, the articles kept on coming and Anup uncle was always busy, but he never complained. One day, he came running to the office. I still remember, my father had brought me to his office for the first time. I was sitting in a chair drinking my glass of Rasna when he came inside with a paper in his hand.'

'Sir, you need to read this. I have read so many articles, but nothing can match him.' exclaimed Anup uncle.

'Give it to me. Let me check.' my Father, Venkat Rao said in a low tone.

'With it, he gave the letter and left me after wishing me as well. My father started reading the article. I could see his eyes glow, while he kept on reading. As he finished reading it, he called Anup uncle and asked him to print it right away.'