Quaintly nestled in a fairytale valley amidst the lofty mountains of the mighty Himalayan range, in the backdrop of the mystic snowcapped peak of Mount Kanchenjunga glittering towards the pristine cerulean sky, stood an old and beautiful Anglican Boarding School, in the Darjeeling district of India’s West Bengal state. It was a magical land where one could touch the moist ivory clouds during the day and wonder at the beauty of a million dazzling stars brightly lit up across the night sky.
Established sometime in the sixth decade of the nineteenth century, with only thirty-one boarders and a few day scholars, now in the year 1980, around 600 students walked the stone halls of this historic educational institute. For the past hundred and twenty years, the academy had been churning out leagues of extraordinary gentlemen through its haloed gateways earning the nickname ‘Oxford of the East.’
The four teenage devils, Rana, Adil, Sunny, and Robbie though good in studies and games, were the most infamous boys the school had ever seen. These best of friends, and hostel buddies since their primary school days, were the most notorious students in this little piece of heaven. It was their last year in the institute. They were to appear for their board examinations in a few months and leave for good. Some of the strict teachers eagerly looked forward to the day they would leave school.
Over the years, the residential academy for boys had developed an international, multicultural, and cross-regional cosmopolitan character. While predominantly it had students from all over India, boys also came from countries like the UK, France, Thailand, Bhutan, Japan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Hong Kong, and the United Arab Emirates. The four besties were also from different nations. While Rana was from the city of Patna, Adil came from Dhaka, Sunny from Osaka, and Robbie from Newcastle.
Embroidered in a pedigree of a strong and long list of British heritage, the students were expected to follow a strict set of rules, which ensured the rowdiest of hooligan’s ultimate transformation into an admirable gentleman by the end of his school tenure. Things like dressing in prescribed suits and carrying umbrellas on all off-campus trips were to be strictly followed. Great emphasis was given to the smallest of things to ensure discipline. Irrespective of all the strictness, boys were just boys, and the mischief makers had their fun now and then, with the four devils always topping the naughty list.
While various hobby clubs and societies honed artistic and technical skills, extracurricular activities such as dramatics, elocution, debate, Classical Indian and Western instrumentals, art, model making, photography, wood and lathe work, cybernetics, textile design, and even cooking, made sure that the energies of the growing boys were positively channelised.
Exceptional performers appeared for music and speech examinations held by the Trinity College and Royal Academy of Music. Boys were sent on educational tours to historical sites in India and other neighbouring countries and even to NASA in the US. The sports curriculum dominated by soccer, cricket, athletics, volleyball, basketball, squash, table tennis, Eton fives, gymnastics, and rock climbing ensured a physically fit upbringing.
“I am fed up with having veggies all the time,” shouted Adil and banged his fists on a dusty desk while Sunny bobbed his head to the tune of ‘We Will Rock You,’ by Queen blasting into his eardrums through the orange foam earphone of his latest Sony Walkman, sent by his dad straight from Japan. Rana and Robbie tussled, locked in a deadly bout of arm-wrestling on the teacher’s table of the abandoned classroom at a restricted nook of the old school basement. The four used to gather there to hatch their mischievous plans, smoke, chill and hang about. It was their one corner of freedom in this institute of a million restrictions.
“I want to have the Furious Mutton Handi,” said Sunny bringing down the earphones from his nog to the nape of his neck. The sudden utterance of a mouth-watering non-vegetarian dish in their insipid hostel-food lives instantly brought the others to a statue-like stance with a fixed gaze. Like dogs suddenly becoming alert to the declaration of their favourite treat, the three dropped everything and glared at their mate.
“Well, we do get chicken and egg for two meals a week. On special occasions, we do get lamb,” spoke up Robbie, letting go of Rana’s hand, breaking away from their arm-wrestling game, and continuing into a lengthy monologue about the different kinds of sad food served at the hostel.
“Well, the last time we had lamb was three months ago. I don’t even remember the occasion, but I do remember the taste. It was horrible, and we lapped it up like dogs,” said Rana, adding fuel to their parched taste buds. “Not lamb; I want goat meat. I want mutton. Not just any mutton; I want the Furious Mutton Handi,” screamed Sunny getting impatient at Rana and Robbie’s divergent line of conversation.
“I know the recipe. Have seen my mom cook it every time I went home for holidays. I think I can prepare it. We need charcoal, a pit and a large clay pot to begin with,” declared Rana in a mixed tone of hesitation and confidence. “Tell me what else we need? Let’s make a list,” quickly added the studious Robbie taking out his little red notebook and his trusted Onoto fountain pen.
“Let’s see now – mint, yoghurt, red chilli powder, garam masala, turmeric, and of course salt. Hmmm… I am not sure whether black or green cardamom or both. Certainly, need a lot of garlic and onions. Oh wait, need coriander powder… and and and mustard oil, that’s it,” declared Rana with a satisfying grin that could be the envy of any mediaeval alchemist.
“What about potatoes? Can’t do without potatoes. We need to add a lot of potatoes to the dish,” enthusiastically prompted Adil. “You never add potatoes to mutton. Mom says it spoils the dish,” protested Rana. “Nonsense, we Bengalis add potatoes to mutton all the time. It’s just heavenly,” protested Adil, as a huge debate broke on the use of potatoes in a non-vegetarian dish.
“Forget the dam potatoes. Aren’t you forgetting the main ingredient? Where will we get the goddam mutton from,” calmly enquired Sunny while putting back his beloved Walkman in its pristine cardboard case with the utmost care? “It has to be Doobie, Warden Albuquerque’s pet goat,” said Robbie drawing a knife and three little teardrops of blood and scribbling down the animal’s name beside the gory artwork in his little red notebook.
“That is outrageous,” protested Adil. “Hey, you were the one to bring up the topic of having non-vegetarian food. Too scared to follow through now,” continued Robbie. “He is right. Where else will we get the mutton from,” added Rana, and the four started planning an elaborate scheme to abduct, slaughter and cook their warden’s pet goat into a ‘Furious Mutton Handi’ dish?
It was Friday night. They planned to arrange for everything by next Saturday and cook the meat in the fireplace of their secret hideout at night and eat it in the afternoon the next day. It being a Sunday, most of the teachers would either be in a resting mood or visiting the town for shopping, eating out or sightseeing. The four could not sleep that night. All of their minds raced with a million ideas to execute their plan as flawlessly as possible.
Though the initial plan was for the four to have a private dinner only for themselves, as the week progressed, others kept on adding to their list for playing their parts in making the meal happen. First, they had to include Batsa, the kitchen assistant, for his unrestricted access to cooking ingredients. Gardener Bonomali also joined the party by supplying a massive earthen flowerpot to cook the meat in. Juniors Roshan and Albert had to be taken in as they overheard a portion of the plan to abduct the goat. Baburam, the guard, agreed to the use of his trusted Kukri to slay the animal. Prabhu, the launderer, agreed to supply charcoal for the pit in exchange for allowing his wife and three kids also feast.
By the evening of next Saturday, the crew had nearly completed all the arrangements. At night, after most of the school had gone to sleep, they quietly sneaked out to meet at the secret kitchen. Batsa was the first to enter with a huge sack of potatoes and placed it in the middle.
The four finally managed to pull down a bleating Doobie to the basement, and the dumb animal who had been merrily chewing on fresh banyan leaves following the boys on a night stroll, suddenly realised that it might be in trouble. The setting of the basement, the crowd, a room full of cooking ingredients and paraphernalia, everything startled the timid animal, and it started bleating like hell.
Everyone ran around aimlessly, trying this and that to make the goat silent. While young Roshan vigorously patted the frightened herbivore on its back to calm it down, Baburam took out his Kukri and wielded it furiously, threatening the goat to keep its maw shut. Everything seemed to go haywire, and everyone was certain that at any moment now, their scheme would be discovered, and all plans spoiled.
Just when the scheme of things seemed on the verge of total collapse, Robbie jumped in the middle and placed Sunny’s dear orange foam headphones below the bleating goat’s flopping ears. Miraculously the flabbergasted animal calmed down to the tune of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ playing on the Walkman. Robbie had the sudden revelation that the rock-loving warden Albuquerque’s – pet goat might calm down to rock music. “Let me go you buffoons, not my Walkman no, no, no…” cried Sunny with tears spewing out of his eyes while Rana and Adil held their dear friend back.
“Go ahead Baburam, it’s time to do your part. Slaughter the goat now,” spoke up Bonomali, the gardener. “Hold on there now. I had said that I would allow the use of my kukri to slew the animal. I never said that I would kill the helpless creature myself,” protested the Nepali, placing his ancestral knife on the table. By now, the goat had calmed down. Chomping banya leaves vigorously, it nodded its head to the voice of Freddie Mercury singing in its ears.
Now, though the goat had stopped, the humans managed to create enough commotion themselves. The guard, gardener, and the launderer cussed each other for being spineless. “Baburam you are nothing but a paper Gorkha,” blurted out Bonomali. “And you Bonomali have pumpkin seeds for stones,” angrily replied the Nepali, with droplets of spit jetting out of the gaps between the few tooths left in his pan-chewing mouth.
When Prabhu tried to intervene, both the gardener and the guard teamed up to thrash the daylights out of the poor launderer, who in turn slapped the timid kitchen assistant for not saying anything or protesting in any way. The boys scuffled, infuriating each other with blame and rage. While one declared the other a coward, another said that none of them deserved to be even called non-vegetarian people.
Right about the time when the cacophonous bubble of their commotion was about to burst at its seam, someone raised the kukri high above and brought it down vigorously. Everyone dropped silent and became still. They stood there like statues, gazing at young Albert mercilessly slashing away. He went on chopping like a rabid lunatic.
No one said anything, and everyone got back to doing their part of the cooking. The cut pieces were soaked, cleaned with water, and poured into the giant earthen pot. Chopped chillies, onions, whole garlic, and pasted ginger-garlic were added and mixed. Finally, an earthen lid with a small hole in the middle was placed on top of the pot and sealed in place with a flour paste. Then the pot was placed in the fireplace, covering it with burning charcoal left to cook on a slow fire for the night. Everyone crept back to their rooms.
The next day in the afternoon, the party gathered back in the basement to partake in their long-awaited fellowship lunch. Everyone had brought rice or bread saved from breakfast or lunch. Fourteen plates were laid that day. Students Rana, Adil, Sunny, and Robbie, juniors Roshan and Albert, Batsa the kitchen assistant, Bonomali the gardener, Baburam the guard, and Prabhu the launderer and his wife and three kids sat in front of the thirteen plates, and in front of the fourteenth plate sat a bleating Doobie. The goat was served his favourite, freshly plucked banyan leaves.
At the climax of commotion in the basement last night, Albert had raised the kukri high above and brought it down vigorously on top of the potato sack. What they made that night was ‘The Furious Potato Handi,’ a new dish of spicy marinated potatoes slow cooked in a clay pot on a simmering charcoal fire. It was simply delicious.
None of them could slaughter the helpless animal. Doobie, the goat, had become a crew member, one of their mates, a party in ‘The Curious Case Of The Furious Mutton Handi,’ a well-known tale from the mysterious sanctums of the ‘Oxford of the East,” that you hear about now and then around campfires in the hilly terrains of Darjeeling.
Copyright © 2022 TRISHIKH DASGUPTA
This work of fiction, written by Trishikh Dasgupta is the author’s sole intellectual property. Some characters, incidents, places, and facts may be real while some fictitious. All rights are reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including printing, photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, send an email to the author at trishikh@gmail.com or get in touch with Trishikh on the CONTACT page of this website.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Trishikh Dasgupta
Adventurer, philosopher, writer, painter, photographer, craftsman, innovator, or just a momentary speck in the universe flickering to leave behind a footprint on the sands of time... READ MORE
Weekend Stories by Trishikh 
Well played! I was convinced of one ending, then further enlightened. I liked the characters at the school; the four young men and the staff that helped. Thank you!
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Dear Rebecca, it’s always a big joy to read your comment. So happy that you liked the story.
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Ha ! Before I read this story I was craving Indian food & ordered a bunch of spices on Amazon….I’ve been craving CHOLE BHATURE !!!
Not mutton… haha but I loved your story & the twist 😀
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Well what a coincidence. Great to know that you were craving for Chole Bhature and my story came in front of you. By the way, I have been craving Chole Bhature for more than 7 days now’s let’s see, how soon I get to eat it.
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WOW…. Very auspicious !!!!!!
That’s one dish I have never made… but I will attempt to do it as soon as I get my 5 pounds of organic Chole beans !!!!
I’m not Indian but I love Indian food… I’ve cooked many good dishes…. I made ghee today to ♥️
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That’s so nice to hear. I too love cooking. Have made Chole Bhature in the past. Best of luck with your cooking and today’s Ghee.
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💗
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(Too)
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Yea, I got it.
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I’m sure somewhere in a hostel basement a Handi must be smiling away reading this beautiful piece. Doobie ,the coolest goat- so lucky. You’ve weaved pure nostalgia in this one.
Richa
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Dear Richa, I would also like to believe that the handi exists. Thank you for appreciating. Just treasure your comment.
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Another amazing storie! Thank you for share Trishikh.
Have a wonderful day! I want to cook marinate potatos, sounds delicious.
Elvira
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Dear Elvira, so glad that my little story gave you a craving for a little cooking. I am sure that a creative and marvellous cook like you would do an amazing job.
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Thank you very much, Trishikh.
You are so kind. I love cooking.
I hope do it well.
Have a great time!
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My best wishes Elvira. Always a pleasure to interact.
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Thank you very much, Trishikh.
As well.
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You are most welcome Elvira.
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Have a great weekend, Trishikh.
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A great weekend to you too Elvira.
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Thank’s!
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Reblogged this on Ned Hamson’s Second Line View of the News.
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Dear Ned, thank you so much for liking and showcasing this story of mine in your blog. It’s always such a privilege.
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Beautiful story! The twist to the ending was very lovely Trishikh.
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The ending caused a laugh of relief.
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Yes, that it did. Thank you so much for liking the story. Always treasure your comments.
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Another great story.. I’m glad they didn’t kill the goat.. 😊🌻😊
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Ya, many non-vegetarian people will not be able to kill and eat.
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Luar biasa
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Thank you so much. Glad that you find my story extraordinary.
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i was sooo relieved at the ending🤪🙏🏼❤️
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I too figured that this type of an ending was needed to the story.
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🙏🏼❤️🙏🏼
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Your stories never disappoint, my friend. 🙂
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Thank you so much. So glad that my stories appeal to you. I am ever thankful to you for your appreciation.
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Ah….a sweet ending this time! This is quite a lovely story. I could relate to the mischievous boys as I’ve always been torn between being the rule follower and rule breaker 🙂 I’m glad the goat survived. I never did like mutton, but love potatoes!
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Dear Katelon, so glad that you liked the story. Yes, I wanted this one to be on the lighter side, as a few of my last stories were a bit on the heavier side. I always like to write all sorts of stories. I must sinfully confess that I love mutton, but hate to see any animal suffering. I have an inner conflict of being a hardcore non vegetarian and an animal lover at the same time.
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I understand. I have been a vegetarian in the past but am not presently. I lived on the Navajo reservation for a few years and mutton stew from Sheep is common there. I never liked the taste or texture.
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Goat or mutton is a delicacy in many parts of India. Specially in West Bengal it is regarded very highly and eaten very often. It is a costly meat but found everywhere.
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Perhaps goat mutton tastes better than sheep mutton. Sheep mutton seems quite tough to me. Lamb meat is more tender and has a more mild flavor. Since India is so predominantly vegetarian I can imagine that goat meat would be a delicacy.
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Yes, goat meat is very tasty. There are many tender varieties, which are only fed certain kind of food/ leaves. Lamb is tougher, sheep is more tougher. Then it all depends on the cooking also. Any meat cooked on slow fire for hours will ultimately become very tender. Saying all that I am an animal lover and hate to see animals slaughtered, though I love to eat meat.
India is very cosmopolitan, it has people who eat all sorts of things. I am not sure whether the vegetarian people outnumber the non-vegetarian. It depends from city to city, from region to region.
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Yes, presently my body does better with some meat although I eat many vegetarian dishes, too.
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I also eat a lot of veggies, butI always crave for a piece of nonveg in my meals.
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Thanks for the info!
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You are most welcome Katelon.
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I love this story, Trishikh! I was wondering, how it would end. People might think that killing an animal is easy, but it is not. I was not sure that the young boys would go through with it. It was an absolute relief that they prepared the potatoes instead. 🙂
I googled chole bhature, now I am also craving it … I will give it a try!
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Dear Stella, so happy that you loved this story. Yes, you are right, killing an animal is not that easy. It has a heavy emotional toll. Glad that you googled Chole Bhature, try it out it’s just amazing.
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I loved this one, Trishikh! So delighted it was bloodless. And your opening paragraph is among the loveliest I think you’ve written.
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Dear Annie, so happy that you liked the story and specially the opening paragraph. I strongly that the opening paragraph is very important for a short story, or for that matter any kind of story. I am glad that this one came out nice. Treasure your constant appreciation and support.
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That was a lot of fun and I really chuckled at the ending!
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Dear Patrick, so glad that I was able to bring a smile. Your comments always gives me much joy. Thank you so much for reading, liking, and commenting.
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I very much like mutton together with potatoes, your creativity and the special recipe “The Furious Potato Handi”. but I’m sorry for animals, which suffer!
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Ya mutton and potatoes does go very well. We love it too. I too hate to see animals suffer.
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I love it, it’s beautiful!!!
Thanks for the support.
Greetings.
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Thank you so much. It really makes my day when someone appreciates.
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I was so happy that Doobie survived, and joined in the feast, rather than being part of the feast.
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Oh, it was a big relief for me too, to be able to spin this ending. Thank you for your comment. Really treasure it.
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A great tale woven between teenage devils, a goat and a sack of potatoes. Legends are made of such stuff. Happy Writing My Friend.
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Dear Geoff, reading your comment at the start of the day gives me great joy. So happy that you find my story enjoyable. You are rights, legends are made in such ways.
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Pleasure. Great write and read My Friend. Have an awesome day.
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An awesome day to you too Goff.
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Thanks.
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Well, a good read always makes the day.
Greetings.
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I always believe that.
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Masterpiece…,,the hoi polloi reading this story will appreciate the twist in the tale..
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So glad Michael that you liked the story. I am sure many more readers will enjoy it to. Thank you for reading and commenting, always treasure the support.
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A beautiful landscape painted with your poetic introduction.
A long time ago during my travels through the south sea, I landed on a small island, where a local guy rented a few huts to us, backpackers. The weather had turned nasty and huge waves made it impossible for the supply boat to get to the beach. After five days of rice and cassava, the craving for meat took hold of everyone’s mind. A goat farm occupied half of the island, and it did not take long before the idea was born to cook a goat on the spit. Unfortunately, the goat farmers’ religious beliefs forbade the killing of animals. We stood there, dumfounded, holding the rope with the animal attached.
No one was willing to do the deed! However, we had come that far in our ‘heroism’ for survival, and eventually slit the animal’s throat. No one had any experience with how to proceed from here; on that day we all learned goats are predominantly made up of intestines. Well, to cut the story short, we all left the island the next day traumatised, unable to consume any of the meat, all to the delight of our host.
Your story brought those memories back to me, understanding only too well what went through the minds of those in that cellar.
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Wow, again my story brought back a real life memory. There can be no greater joy for a writer, than when a story relates to a reader personally. I can understand and relate to your real life situation as I too have been on similar kind of adventures. Thank you for the lovely comment. It really made my day.
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Dear Trishikh, I’m glad the goat survived. Very lovely story. And I love eat potatoes! 😁🍟
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Dear Alev, so glad that you loved the story. I too am satisfied with the ending and love potatoes also.
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Love your stories. 🙂
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Thank you Anna, always treasure your appreciation and support.
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What a delightful story, Trishikh! I’m so glad Doobie survived and became a member of the club!
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Dear Dawn, I too was satisfied to be able to end the story in this way. Thank you for always being so supportive of my stories. Really treasure your comments.
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My pleasure!
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You really had me there, trickster! One of the best pieces you’ve written. It started so dark, then got darker, and finally came to the light. You seriously shake me up with your stories! Geez… I love them! You should have written for the Hitchcock magazine back in the day. Excellent writing!!
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Dear Susan, you are too kind with your appreciation. So happy that this little story of mine, could make such an impact on you. Glad that you liked the transition from dark to darker and finally to light. One day perhaps I would get an opportunity to publish. Have a great day, dear friend.
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Not kind, just honest… You need to be published!
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May your words come true.
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Yes!
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Always coming up with explicit posts👌❤️
Nice story with happy ending 🤝
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Thank you so much. So happy that you liked the little story. Nothing gives me more joy than receiving a little bit of appreciation.
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It’s my pleasure ❤️
Thanks for stopping by.
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My pleasure too.
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Thank you so much for reblogging my story.
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Aaah! Thank God the poor goat was saved. I was holding my breath throughout…Nice story once again. Less gory…glad for that…
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Thank you so much for liking it. Ya, certainly less gory than my previous one. Have a great day.
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Thank you so much for promoting my story in your blog. It is always such a pleasure.
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This is a lovely story. The twist at the end made it good both for readers and Doobie. It goes to prove that taking life is not so easy. Excellent write, Trishikh! All the best 👍
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Dear KK, I always look forward to your comments. Glad that you liked the story. Yes you are very right, it is never easy to take a life.
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You’re more than welcome, Trishikh! Just one point. The pictures of your story are quite appropriate. Are these your own creations?
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Ya, few of them are my drawings, some I Collage in Photoshop and heavily edit. Photography and fine arts are also my passion. If I got more time, I would certainly like to draw an image for each of my story, with my own hand. Maybe When I publish a book I will do the illustrations as well.
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That’s really great, Trishikh! You’re truly a creative person. My best wishes for your book 👍
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Thanks KK, I treasure your good wishes. A great day to you my friend.
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Cute story🥔 Love the tater twist.
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Thank you so much Bia. It really gives me great joy when someone appreciates.
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🙏🙏🙏💎
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Thank you so much Rochelle. Glad that you liked my story and have given it a diamond rating.
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Your welcome god bless 🙏
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Howdy Trishikh top of the world to ya, have a great day.
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Thank you. A great day to you too.
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I didn’t even read much of the story before I get attracted to this writer… This, I won’t call a piece but it’s a good one. Kudos!.
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Thank you for going through my story. Really appreciate the comment.
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You’re welcome Sir… I will love if you’ll review more of my articles and share your thoughts on them Sir.
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Certainly, I would love to do it whenever I get a little time. It is a real joy for me to do so.
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I also look forward to seeing more of your stories Sir.
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Thank you so much. I too will visit your blog and share my feedback.
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Thank you so much Sir.
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You are most welcome.
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Thank you for your support
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It is my great pleasure. You are most welcome.
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Trishikh, you are a story teller—the setting and it’s history, gorgeous opening, mischievous schoolboys, the goat calmed by rock via headphones, and detailed recipe. It shouldn’t have worked as well as it did. It would make a charming movie. I’m a little shocked at how good natured the story is, it seems in America we are bombarded by psychopathological writers. So a very welcomed and heartwarming story. Thank you.
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Dear Michael, it is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance. First of all I must say, that I really like your art. It is very inspirational.
Thank you so much for appreciating my story. I write different kinds. Few of my stories are a bit dark also, though there is always strong moral messages, and philosophical reliefs to most of my stories. History is a big part of most of my stories. My tales will gives my readers a flavour of India, I believe.
Do visit again, whenever you have the chance and feel like it. I am sure that you would love few of my other stories as well.
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Thank you so much for promoting my story in your blog.
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A most excellent story! Thank goodness Doobie was saved!
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Thank you so much for liking and enjoying my story. I am also relieved that Doobie was saved.
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Hey this is William. Sorry my previous account got messed up. Pleasure to find you again. TC
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Hi William, sorry I am unable to find your blog in WordPress reader. Have you migrated to another service provider.
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No I created a new one as I couldn’t able to retrieve my old account. Thanks 😊
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Brilliant! Loved it! Especially the last bit, imagining Doobey chewing away on the banyan leaves. Made me laugh out loud!
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Dear Shukti, not makes my day better than someone enjoying and appreciating one of my stories. So glad that you liked this one. Yes, I too was relieved to write about Doobie chewing the banyan leaves at the end.
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I had to look up the recipe for Mutton Handi. I once raised goats and am glad Doobie survived.
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Glad that you looked up the recipe for Mutton Handi, you will find the ingredients match in my story to the actual recipe most common for this dish, however the cooking process that I describe in the story – slow cooking in an earthen pot covered in charcoal is more common for “Champaran Meat,” and usually not used for mutton handi. For the sake of the story this particular cooking style was practised in the character Rana’s home in Bihar by his mother.
I too was glad that Doobie survived. Raising any animal is a great way to connect with nature I feel. I never raised goats but had dogs, fish, turtle, rabbits, and few other small animals as pets.
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I love this amazing story..I must try to make Indian food..so delicious. Just saw your site now and we follow each other.
Anita
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Dear Anita, thank you for liking my story. Nothing gives me greater joy than a little bit of appreciation. Yes, Indian food can be very delicious. Thanks for following my site. I too will follow yours.
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😊
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I hope you are fine and well. It has been long time you have not followed my blog
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For the past 1 month I just have not been able to find time to write and blog. Have been too bogged down with work and other pressures. Got a bit lazy. It’s just a passing phase will get back to the blogging routine soon.
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I will wait
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Such a wonderful story, I was completely taken in at the end! I’ve just discovered your blog, and very glad I am too!
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Words of appreciation such as your works as miracle for my writing engine. It gives me great encouragement, specially now, since the past 1 month when I have been unable to sit down to write dedicatedly. Glad that you found my blog. Would be visiting, liking, and following yours as well.
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😊
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Simply beautiful 👍🙂
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Thank you so much for liking my story Sutapa.
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Good story, Trishikh!
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Thank you so much Sunith. This was on the lighter side though. So glad that you liked it. Have a great weekend buddy.
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As Always Flawless and Amazing Piece of Writing 🙌🙌
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Thank you so much. I treasure every bit of appreciation. That is a source of my writing strength.
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Wonderful story! Love cooking esp if my wife is around and my two kids. Keep it up Trish. You’re the best!!!
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Thank you so much I love cooking too.
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Love the twist- super cute
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Thank you so much. I always believe that a good twist holds the power to transform any story to a worthy read.
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You have an amazing way to narrate.
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Thank you so much Anand. I always treasure your appreciation.
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Your story was great as always. These are texts worthy of publishing.
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Publishing these stories would be a dream come true. Hopefully one day.
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