Skip to main content

Pranks and Perspective

“Hi, you have been awarded the best dancer for the year. Please come down and collect your award.” The receptionist said. “It’s eleven ‘o clock in the night and I know this is a prank call,” John said. “Mr. John do you think as a receptionist of the hotel I might be fooling around at eleven in the night, please come down immediately and collect the prize.” The receptionist said. “Bro, let’s go down and get the prize I have been selected as the best dancer,” said John. “That’s great,” Tim said. “Let’s go!” Jim said.

“Dude that was a neat trick!” Ron said. “You’re a game bro,” Niel said. “I want to John’ reaction when he sees an empty reception as his gift,” Ron said. “Let’ go downstairs,” Kim said. We hurried downstairs to find the troika of John, Tim, and Jim. “But He said He would be right here and would give me the present,” John said ruing the fact that he was fooled. “What are you doing here?” Tim asked. “We are going to buy some crocin for Niel,” I said. “He is not keeping well since the evening,” Ron said. I went to open the door. “It’s too dark outside don’t go out,” Tim said. “Yeah I guess you are right we will wait for the receptionist and ask him for some crocin,” I said. “Where is the receptionist dude?” John said. “I don’t know maybe he is partying somewhere,” I said. “But He said he is downstairs with my gift....” John said looking puzzled. “Leave it, bro, you have been fooled,” Tim said and they all went upstairs.

We came upstairs. “Dude you should have seen his face,” Ron said laughing uncontrollably. “What a prank bro, you nailed it,” Niel said. “Dude you should have been downstairs,” I said.
“I could imagine the happenings down there,” Aaron said, who had been hiding in the bathroom all this while. “Who must be it?” John asked Jim and Tim. “I have no clue man! It was all too neatly done.” Jim said. “Sam must have pulled it off,” Tim said. “He was their downstairs waiting for us. They all were waiting for us.” John said. “It was a great prank,” Tim said. “And I must agree,” Jim said.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Mountain

Siddhartha was born in the month of monsoon, in a small sleepy hamlet called Thione. He was a cute and a healthy boy born to a decent couple. The father was a craftsman and mother was teacher in the town school. They lived in their cottage by the green mountains of Thione. There universe was always peaceful and happy. Siddhartha grew up in an environment that was filled with love and care. He was an efficient learner and was quickly taking his baby steps. The first word he uttered was “Maa..” that left tears of lasting joy in his mother’s eyes. He would play for hours with his toys and would then have his lunch made by his mother. The courtyard in the house had a swing. A baby Siddhartha would swing like a pendulum sitting over it. One day his gaze fell on the green mountains behind their cottage. “Maa, what’s there in the green mountains? For how long they have been sitting there still?” He asked with an unmatched curiosity. “They have been there since a very long, long...
Post a Comment
Read more

Two Earthen Pots

As I sit beside the balcony, I see two earthen pots one besides the other, light brown, freckled and same, but still there lies a difference none the less. There was a blossoming flower once, with its ripening petals of red, being watered daily it grew slowly, maturing into a mesmerising rose. But now in the earthen pot lies dried leaves, shrive l led petals, and lifeless roots, all turned into the dust, with one cruel swipe of death. Dancing to the tunes of wind, a sapling grows in the other earthen pot, watered with care and love, life finds its way out through the mud. Life and death is a cycle, one takes place after another, the old becomes one with the sands of time, and the new blossoms with eternity.
Post a Comment
Read more

Why does a caged bird sing?

A bird beautiful and full of grace flies over the blue sky spreading its wings along the wind l etting it take to far away lands fly ing through the trees there is a , a sudden screech and a loud noise, trapped in the net the bird makes a failed try. Alas! Its too late for all that. Gazing past the window, the bird looks beyond the trees, sings about mountains and fields that are locked beyond. I heard the bird sing, with a melancholy in his voice, for him the freedom is so near yet so far and understood why does the caged bird sings?
Post a Comment
Read more