Sarthak-"LiVe A MeanIngfUl liFe" ...Chapter-1

Well..as i said few weeks back...that i am upto something....and here it is.....a story...titled "Sarthak-live a meaningful life"....what it is all about i guess read it and know it...all i will say is...ask yourselves...is being good to others really fruitful and does it really mean others will be good to you...???? let us find it out...!!!

"Sarthak-live a meaningful life"

Chapter-1 The Place Where It Begun...

The door made a creaky sound as Purohit unlocked it..probably would have opened even without a key such was the state of the door...he stepped in a room...full of dust...looked like a home of around thousands of spiders and rats...it was dark....murky..and a small place with just one window allowing some fresh air to come in..the walls were all scribbled with some poetic verses..some reminders...and few cracks...there was a table in the corner,all dusty and looked as if it would breakdown anytime....beside it was lying a bed...where one would have to really struggle to find some place to lie down...all messed up with papers and clothes...it was shouting to give it a final goodbye...the width of the room wasn't much probably one and a half "khali" would lie down easily...

but still, it managed to bring some smile on Purohit's gloomy face...he was a writer...a very renowned writer...but last year or so had been awful for him...he wasn't able to come up with something innovative,creative in short interesting...

this was the first place where Purohit lived when he first came to Mumbai,some 8 years back...and today when he was dejected and defeated he came back to the place where it all started...

Purohit was like this....he valued his each and every possession a lot....be it his first home....friends...his job....he had a high degree of respect for people and most importantly to his values and morals....he was a gentleman of true sorts...but that gentleman had lost somewhere in the past few years...

he walked towards the bed...inserted his hand underneath the cot and took out a piece of paper...torn,brown and stinking...it was something that Purohit had written for the first time....his first ever article...he valued it the most....

it was raining heavily outside....monsoons had arrived in Mumbai....lightning...clouds roaring...and the sound of rain all added to the gloominess...he opened d piece of paper...

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