Some Beautiful Storys

the storeyed House-1

      There was something really wrong with the state  transport bus .

it had come up the winding road in the mountain as if with a  life -time effort

the road was now down -hill and yet the bus moved as slowly as a sick man walking with the help of another.

it reached the plain where the dispensary building was situated, and stood still,like an obstinate Ball .

now ,the destination was hardly  a mile or two away.

but the driver was sore and the conductor had no option but to be silent

when they realized that the bus would not move any faster, a couple of passengers exclamed:
" for a bloody  nuisance!"

           The conductor asked the passengers to get down and they all put their strength together to push the bus.

having gained this  initial movement, the bus started .
passengers clambered up,  jostling one another .
the conductor rang the bell and the bus gradually took on speed.
it entered the village  reluctantly like  a truant child being  dragged  to school.
   As it wound  its way  through  the curves on the outskirts, groaned and  croaked  like  a hen about to lay,aggs, and  stopped  with  a bang in front of Bhujaba patil's residence.
As it halted ,it gave  a big lurch, sending  the passengers  helter- skelter,  churned like  water in a pitcher when  the carrier stumble.

    All the passenger  got down.

The coolies  put his hand  on a huge wooded  box and  shouted, ''whose box is this?"

   Balaji , who was brushing  away  the dust  from  his body,  Answered, 'Oh, it's  mine,please  lower it down. '

The coolie heaved and  grunted  as he lowered  the box which Bayaji  caught  with  ease.

     Bayaji  had packed a  his entire household goods in this box.

there was no longer any reason to hang around in Bombay.

he had worked honestly for the past 35 years in the dokard and had  retired from service two months before.

not that he had held an important position.
          He had merely got an extension
for two  years ;during that period  he had become a supervisor.
otherwise  his entire life had been spent lifting heavy loads.
he had worked very hard whenever he could, day and night.

        Bayaji  had crossed 60 but was in sound health.

    he had a sturdy frame right from birth, and hard work had given a well formed shape to his strong body .

he paid 15 paise to the Coolie , put the box, in which he had thrown pots and pans and sundry other things, on his own head and began to walk in the direction of his house.

As he  reached Kadam 's house, he saw
Bhujaba coming toward him. Bhujaba was a  known rascal of the village.

Bayaji  balanced the burden on his head. Straightening  his  neck,  he said,
" greetings  to you ,sir, how are things with you?"

    Bayaji  was a mahar by caste and  according  to age- old  custom should have greeted Bhujaba  with 

  'my humble salutations to you ,sir, who are my father and mother.
'so ,when Bayaji  merely said "greetings".
Bhujaba  become  furious and said ,

     "do you think you can become a Brahmin  merely  by saying

    "greetings"? can you forget your position simply because you have turned