Jonas Joseph Collection

8/3/2019 Jonas Joseph Collection

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To Readers;

I will be very glad to them who read my stories or like it. It would be a pleasure

for me and encourage my patience, my ability and it would make all the difference to my

strength. Though I am not a professional writer or author, but I will try my best to

represent you my most elaborate work. This is my first work, I tried my best to write an

interesting and wonderful short stories. It contains five short stories and two poems.

For writer the most important is how reader response to his or her manuscript. As

I am young and not well-known, professional, I need your response a lot.

Lastly I will be thankful to them all who gave me suggestion and object me for my

errors and mistakes. I accept their concept open-handedly and would be very pleased.

You can send your suggestions and objections to my Facebook account or my yahoo e-

mail.

I need response: [email protected]

Jonas Joseph


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THATNIGHT

Written by: Jonas Joseph

Still the wind was puffing severely and the raining was pouring slightly. Everything

was vanished in silence, except the flooding of storm and the screaming of gale. The

weather was too frosty, just some temperature above freezing level. The sky was

concealed beneath a curtain of collided and dusky clouds. It was a hard, grim and murky

night. Till far away no light, no moon. It was the end of a miserable day.

The night before, everything was gripped by invasion of nature. Some night before

you could hear the chattering, laughter that rose all around the village; the night party

that everyone was present and continued with lots of rapture till mid-night. It was till

then, three days pouring rain and the village is approximately void; some escaped, some

took shelter to high hills and mountains.


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In the middle of hill, some far from the centre of village, there stood a cottage; a

cottage with extremely crumbly, old woods and hideous figure. The cottage ended to a

narrow staircase in corner that lead to the top, where there was a small cave-liked room

which was for storing fodder of cattle. In cottage, there lived a lady with her very young

son, aged seven or eight.

The night before when the deluge of water was surging, it reached to the cottage

but upstairs; the cave-liked room was safe and that was a haven. The village was

demolished by heavy and colossal storm, the cottage as well. Cattle, sheep and goats all

were seized; flopping in water and baying. The cottages roof was collapsed to the earth.

The lady had no edibles and self sheet that night and her son was too ravenous.

She ploddingly trudged to the door, opened it and gazed outside. The gale became feebler

just like spring wind and no trace from rain. She rapidly went downstairs, got to the

bottom. The roof had secreted all. She scarcely recalled where the basket of breed was;

reckoned and hastened to there. The woods were heavy and damp; with a lot of strain

she hauled them and ultimately found that, opened and saw nothing just some slices of

soggy toast.

Some slices of soggy toast, indeed glum that couldnt feed one and then she was

really weary, strived the whole day to salvage the life and famished too mush that the

world is whirling around her head, feeling dizzy and chilly, her body is trembling inside her


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skeleton and her fingers were numbed. Without brooding in a short moment she began to

scour the ground that might the basket had fallen there. Gain nothing, for second time,

again nothing and third time in hope to find even a scrap. She looked charily but same;

got more depressed. She reached out her torpid hand to the basket and picked it up,

peered inside, neither there was anything.

That raw night, some need covering. The weather had become chiller then. Now

no brawn, even the world seem dimmer and weighty woods there. She could barely guess

where she was and her feet got loose. She started to look for a duvet, a large duvet that

cover both cause when disaster reaches, gives no chance. She tugged those hefty slabs,

slipped and fell to the surface. Her right foot bumped on ground severely that cause an

intense aching. She struggled a lot but couldnt find anything, just for a tiny, half-wet quilt.

Desperation, aching, frailty all appeared in her face; tried to yelp loud but not.

Her son was yelling upstairs. She clutched those she had found, staggered to

upstairs. She quietly sat in front, caress and gave all to him and covered him with that

small quilt. Then leaned against the wall and was half-awake the whole night with drowsy,

sleepy and dizzy eyes that might not her son displace the comforter and feel cold.


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WRITTEN BY:Jonas Joseph

It is spring. The trees are newly blossom and the numb earth after a frosty winter is

newly awake. The wheat and maize is newly sprout, sway with gentle breeze; the zephyr

with clement nature bestrew emeralds along the plain. Flock of birds flying freely, some

gamboling among branches. The glassy dome reflects blue is without fog. The stream

near our house got more water and glittering when gurgles.

I am sitting under shadow of a tall, leafy almond tree and gazing to brook. Chant

sings flow either a bliss or grief, I wonder. Warbling of birds look doleful that plays

strings of my heart and produces a bluesy music. The sun shines dimmer, rays are pale.

Tears are frozen in my eyes and the nature seems weird rather gloomy that portrays a

strong odium. I am remembering my friend.


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Last spring he had come. How delicious was then when we were together? I

recall the day we had gone to picnic. How gleeful was that day? He took me to cascade

and vowed me that it is the evocation of our last-life friendship. We collected lots of

flowers. We swam on that small pond. I remember when for grasping butterfly, we were

scampering between bushes and later chasing a little rabbit. On sunset when rain had

started pouring; we were dripping wet and scurrying under rain.

He stayed a week and pledged that he would come next spring. It was a

wretched moment when he left. Till then I was counting days.

It was last month of winter when he called me, I am ready and prepared all the

facility, I will just arrive some days before new year. uttered cheerily. I grew extremely

elated, my fancy soared; one time spending spring with my friend, other having a lot of

thrill. I surmised the nature is more generous this year but what gives luck, no one

knows.

It was three days before spring when I phoned him. He mentioned the coming

day he would leave. I was too animated as the day was stuck. That night I dreamed the

sky was sundered and the stars were plummeted; I and my friend were collecting them.

The next day I got early in the morning and arranged all thing. I went to school

then. In school all I was sunk in relish. When I got off there, in way I deemed my friend

would be here three hours later. Firstly he would be weary and have some sleep, the


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next day we would amble around the village and the day after in New Year we would go

for picnic. I thought this year we would have more pleasure; the weather is balmy and

the nature is too verdant.

At daybreak of that day he called me up and told he was on bus. I and my father

left home half hour before arriving time. We waited till night. I was too anxious, my

heart started beating rapidly and my body was gripped with dread. It was two hours

crossing from proper arrival time and my friend should be here by then but nothing

emerged.

Three hours passed. It was dark now; the lustrous face of sun was concealed

behind the lofty mountains just 45 minutes before. The sky color was altered and stars

were gleaming in horizons. We were staying in bus-station and didnt have a clue. I was

very timorous and supposed that might the vehicle got problem and they are delayed.

The night became dimmer and dimmer, even the shops were bolted. We waited

too long and eventually my father suggested going home.

I was completely exhausted when I arrived at home. I had a trifle dinner and

decided to go to bed. I felt dizzy and my head was a burden for my body. While I was

leaving the room, my father turned on the television, news channel. The news headline

was repeating and the reporter was incessantly reporting, a bus was blasted in road-

corner bomb. 43 were killed and 13 were injured.


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It shuddered much and my heart started beating with tumultuous fright. My

eyes brimmed with tear and only thing was consoling me that was not my friend bus. I

was fully bewildered and thought not to stay, so I hastened to bed.

That was most woeful night in my life. I couldnt slumber and just converting

side to side. I felt as if someone squeezing my soul firmly. It was a night with

nightmares, pondering about news and my friend. Why he was late? Again I was setting

my mind at ease that was not my friend bus.

Night elapsed. I got up on seven oclock in the morning and promptly went to my

father, asked about bus and my friend. He replied no. I recognized he was lying;

mournful eyes revealed that. I insisted and at last he told me.

In blink all changed. A raw tear dropped frantically on my cheek. Walls began to

reel and everything seem to be weird, as if all glaring tearfully. Something was crushing

my heart rigidly. Even the sun-rays that crossed the window were glum. My friend had

gone away.

Now it is spring. All the wishes I had, shattered and the revolting nature stand in

front. How much hope he had?


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ByByByBy Jonas Joseph Jonas Joseph Jonas Joseph Jonas Joseph

It was a warm season and just two days stood behind MOTHER DAY. That year I

determined to buy a remarkable gift so, I saved every penny I could. I craved a Teddy Bear

that was on kids shop. Whenever I was going by there, its luminous eyes and snow-coloured

really enchanted me. It was most precious thing for me.

All I saved was eight dollars and the teddy bear fetched for twelve dollars. I

perceived if I negotiate a lot I could procure at eleven dollars, Three dollars more.

I had taken an oath to Uncle John, I would slog in his farm and he would pay one

dollar a day, one dollar still scanty.

I had leaned against the pillar in back-yard and brooding about one dollar more.

Abruptly a hand jolting my shoulder and a faint voice uttering, it is too late, you must sleep.

It was my mom and I retorted I would come. I stared at sky, it was late. The night torch was

just neighbouring middle of horizon and stars were sparkling far in spaces. A solution I found.

I got up before daybreak, it was dawn and the black sky was just bleached. All were

in sleep and I quietly took my school bag, some breakfast and tiptoed to the door, opened it


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silently and sauntered outside. When I got out near the door, I devoured all quickly and

hasten to Uncle Johns farm.

Uncle Johns farm was not quite far, just passing two narrow lanes and there was a

small brook, not wide enough and almost with meagre water all season. There was a tiny,

wooden and perilous bridge.

When I get to there, Uncle John was newly awake. He scrubbed his bleary eyes and

his rasping voice quivered my eardrum, why you are here in this early morning my son?

I replied with my murmuring voice, uncle I want to work harder and longer to earn

more money.

He spurned my urge and raised his voice, I cant accept my son. Theres not much

work in the farm these days.

When I whimpered a lot, he concurred with me.

It was a sweltering day. The sun shone directly on earth and birds were slumbering

under shadow, mostly sparrows. Sometimes insect buzzing on my ear; Uncle Johns grubby

cabin was not far enough.

Breakfast, I didnt have provoke a horrible frailty. In near noon I began to feel giddy

and if Uncle John didnt bring lunch, I couldnt even plod more. In lunch I devoured much

quickly even Uncle John was astonished.


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It was an arduous day and just some moment before sundown Uncle John allowed

me to go. I could barely trudge, crossed that small bridge, enter my narrow lane and reached

home.

My mother was really vexed that I was late from school. She asked me with

infuriating tone, why you are late? When you get off from school?

I lied gallantly, I was on my friend home. and continued that tomorrow I would be

late too.

I required my mother to bring the dinner promptly. I was absolutely ravenous and

drained. After dinner how I went to sleep, I dont know.

When I woke up the next day, I was a little late. Nor having breakfast neither took

any, gripped my bag and walked out swiftly; then sprinted to Uncle Johns farm.

Uncle John was a good-mannered man, never bicker a lot and his raucous voice

irritated my ear, you are late son. then said nothing more.

When he had breakfast not ask me even, I pant for being home, cheese, butter and

honey. I recalled how attentively my mom gave me. The whiff of fried cook and Uncle Johns

breakfast made me more famished. The only rapture was, tomorrow is the MOTHER DAY and

it fortify me much that I didnt know how the day elapsed.

In evening I implored Uncle John to let me fifteen minutes before.


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I was fatigued; my eyes could scarcely distinguish the hideous route to the kids shop.

The unstable steps swayed to the street and eyes lost obvious sight. I reposed many time on

way, gulping and again walk.

Kids shop was on the other side of street. Clumsily I plodded there, opened the door

strenuously and went in. There were two more customers, so I laid myself steadily on the

chair that was close to the door.

The shopkeeper dealt with them, turned his face to me and ask scornfully, hey tiny,

what you want?

I spoke drowsily, I want to buy that teddy bear in front of the window. 12 dollar.

he mentioned.

I asked for eleven dollars but he declined. After a lot of negotiation he acceded to.

He parcelled and gave me.

My gift was ready, tomorrow would be MOTHER DAY. I rushed to home and silently

open the door, first conceal my present and then revealed myself. Though I was too

exhausted I had supper then went to bed.

It was late in the morning when I awoke. The sun beam crossing the eastern,

rectangular, shabby window and lighten all the room. Great joy pervaded all my soul and free

bird fluttering aloft as imagination went. A new vigour sprinkled water on my faded brawn.


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The universe was smiling on my jolly vision, my heart was throbbing to give my gift in a

twinkling.

I grasped my gift and shrieking went to my mother, happy mother day, happy

mother day, and said exultantly, this is my gift mom.

When she unwrapped the parcel, I conceded that my mother didnt adore my gift.

All altered, a sudden weep filled my eyes. My father knew, endeavoured to persuade that my

gift was the best.

I quickly quitted the room and went outside, start weeping. Abruptly I felt a hand

fondling my head and a mellow voice pronouncing, I am sorry my dear, youre gift is the

most beautiful one I had.

I veered quickly myself, it was my mom and she continued, I give this beautiful gift

to my most loving son.

I broad smile rose upon face, then cradled and kissed her.


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By: Jonas Joseph

When I was younger, I got a bizarre behavior. I was very fractious and always

hankered after quarrelling with boys; for the reason my most class-mates even did not

speak to me. I was impudent and blunt too and none could compel me what I didnt want. I

loved mathematics and physics but I detested biology much. Mostly I got near zero mark in

this subject. Sometimes I jeered at biology teacher and eluded from him. My biology

teacher and in home my father walloped me a lot. I most abhorred these two. I had an only

friend that was doggy.

Doggy was scrawny, dusty with long floppy ears, without much fur on skin surface.

He was shambling around the village and many times was chased by street-boys. They

whipped and hit him with stone. He was my best friend, many times I scuffled with boys for

him, even elder than me and was pummeled many by them. When my teacher or father

walloped me, I went to him, whispered all my misery in his ear and cradled his neck,

whimpering. He grew blue and brought his stubby tail on my back.


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In morning sometimes I was jogging with him. He couldnt find food mostly.

Usually I filched food from home and brought to him. Many times when children were

bothering me, he barked and rushed on them. He often followed me when I went to school

and sat near school gate till I got off. He was not muddy then, I soaked him weekly on the

small spring located near the hill. I had dug a cave bottom of the hill and that was his

dwelling.

It had been summer, while we were strolling aside the towns park. Startlingly two

elder, stouter and taller boys just appeared in front. One gripped my collar firmly and

shoved me severely. I toppled backwards and acutely throbbed, near to bellow. Doggy

pounced upon them but one had stick, battered harshly on his left, front leg and escaped.

Since then doggy had been limping unsteadily.

It was winter. The opaque, murky and misty clouds concealed all over the sky. The

snow was spilled perpetually. The weather was below freezing level. I was half and a foot

then. All I was ruminating about doggy.

A call came. That was my aunt and she demanded for a shovel. My aunts home

was behind the hill. There crossed a path aside and the doggys cave was there. The cave I

had dug was almost straight and snow would fill there, I perceived.

I hastened to take that. My father didnt allow me and furiously said, you are

small, you cant do that. When I am saying the correct work, you dont do that and now.


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I was determined to take that to my aunt. I told I would wear more coat. I

comprehended that doggy felt too shivery and chilly so, I donned two sweaters and an

overcoat.

The snow was too abundant that could one stride hardly. I passed the lanes, set

foot on near hill, started shrieking, doggy, doggy

No one was there, even not the gasping of creature till far. The only sound was the

squashing of frost beneath my feet. Oaks and cypresses stood firmly aside the hill, like an

old man.

I went to his cave, he wasnt there too. I started screaming tumultuously. A deep,

feeble voice was barking severely, I discerned abruptly. I stared around carefully. Near a

tall, wide oak tree, he was lying and shivering with cold. His eyes were closed and his

muzzle was solid, solid as stone. He was gulping strenuously and a warm steam came out of

his nostril. He couldnt even walk and a fragile voice was vibrating his throat.

I wrapped him with my coat and rubbed him hardly, I supposed he might become

warmer. I woke and forced him to sprint. He was plopping continuously. I raised him again

but, neither he could sprint steadily nor he could stand firmly. His legs were too frosty and

numb like stick.

We hardly crossed the hill and behind the hill he fell down again, last one. I

attempted to lift him but, I sensed the warm soul fly away from him like a bird free from


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cage and a warm steam came out for the last time. For the last time he stared at me, then

fasten his eyes forever. I laid down him, his body stopped shuddering, not even the steam

came out of his nostrils.

My doggy had gone, my doggy had gone. My best friend had gone. I wailed loudly

as a lonely one in universe.


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BY: Jonas Joseph

There stood calmly a tall, leafy and enormous peach tree with lots of branches in

middle of our garden. It was alone tree, generous and yield plenty fruit every year. A crest

was in its top and the chanting of birds was coming all summer. We used to clamber up

and gambolling under shadow in sweltering season.

Something weird occurred one summer. That year in spring it blossomed and had

much leaves but, while spring was passing, near summer it began dropping its leaves as in

mid-summer it almost looked without leaves. Tree was young, there was another plight.

We strove to ferret out a solution soon as possible. Irrevocably we decided to go

to Prof. Brown for succour. He was botanist, teacher at high school and most eminent in

his field. He was virtuous and gracious person and only one could guide us. My fellow

knew his home address. We went to his home and he timed Sunday. Still two days were

behind Sunday.


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He came Sunday as he vowed, pruned some branches and some from stem and

laid them under magnifier and his own hideous, colossal glasses with eyes of elderly man

peered heedfully. After much investigation, he counselled us to bring sand. An enigmatic

sand and he manifested, gave the location as well.

Sand that was too far in distance, one must cross the nature event, mountains,

desert and valley too. An utterly bizarre sand, yellowish-green colour, glossy with massive

grain, not facile to find in surface, you had to dig the earth; an odd earth surface too.

There were two ways. First one rigorous, precarious and risky one but, with short

distance and the next one was easier, not much perilous and with far distance. Prof.

Brown mentioned; we had to bring that in three days after, otherwise no chance of

revival.

We were determined to go; me and my foolish friend. Uncle Jim, spending lots of

hours in garden, coveted to aid us. He was a scrupulous but rather bumpkin. He was

always wearing an obsolete hat with very curious attire. Luckily he knew the destination

and the route as well.

As our age was, we couldnt even scale in mid of arduous one so, we had to

proceed by easy way. We took some diet and pickaxe, trowel and sack to carry sand. We

pledged the next day before sunrise we would leave. It would be a rapturous trek as I had

reckoned.


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Before dawn, when the porous, black curtain of sky newly altered with pallid one,

we were ready. Till First Mountain, we went by car then started shinning up. It was easy

but strenuous. In mid mountain we rested and I glimpsed around. The consecutive

pyramids ravaged by time incident seemed more like a tower to see the nature city. In

top, glanced, there was valley, climbed down then.

Half and three hours elapsed when we crossed. An astounding village with stream

flew there. Some trees stood aside, the stream was fringed with reeds and had clean and

pure water. I lay down a little on humid grass and drank from that luscious water I had

ever drunk. Nice meadow for free creature.

Another mountain, not much loftier as prior but, was high. My giddy friend started

singing raucously. A giant hawk was flying high in sky and mass of cloud concealing west.

Sky was bright, sunny and not moist. After two hours struggling, we arrived at the bottom.

Desert was the next plain surface of nature which alike, lucid hands of nature

create. Till far as could eyes gripped was sand and stone and parched shrub scattered far

from others. I questioned Uncle Jim spontaneously, are we there uncle?

He remarked wearily, no, that is too far.

We were plodding across the desert, endless nature plain. After one hour

tramping, we preferred to have lunch. I desired to have a doze, but Uncle Jim murmured

reluctantly, we might be late.


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I cant walk more. I implored drowsily.

Uncle Jim concurred and we slumbered for an hour then started walking again.

After much trekking, may be three or more hours we ultimately crossed the desert. I

damned, damn, it is again mount.

He uttered gaily, we are almost there, that is behind this mount.

It was indeed a soaring mountain but very facile to scale through like a path.

Near summit my dense friend shrieked abruptly. I startled and slipped, Uncle John

grasped my hand quickly and reproached him wrathfully, its not the time of joking.

When we set foot on summit, the sun was near down and a calm zephyr was

blowing. Till far silence, no trace from living creature and lay only natural matter, A

glamorous scene of sunset which the rays glimmering palely in the hope of tomorrow.

I was sunk in this divine glamour of nature, when Uncle Jim jolting my shoulder,

pronouncing, lets go. We must make a tent before dark.

We swiftly climbed down and made a tent, not very stiff just for one night. We

slept on that warm sand, no pillow or duvet. The sound of mammals riled ears came from

faraway and the natural scare of loneliness couldnt let me sleep late in night. Uncle Jim

was there, only hope.


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Next day when the gleaming atmosphere of morn informing the rising of sun, we

began digging the ground. We had only a pickaxe and poor Uncle Jim slogged laboriously.

When he got very exhausted, we were digging for some moment. Suddenly rain started

drizzling and luckily halted soon.

It was about nine oclock, when we could procure the sand. We filled the sack and

Uncle Jim carried that bulky weight. Uncle Jim was plump, enough sturdy but it was not

short distance. More, the mountain might become slippery after rain. When Uncle Jim

became weary, we carried it.

Same route again and fatigue refrained my friend from fatuous acting and he was

striding tranquilly. We had to arrive soon there and dig there as well, about one metre

and spill the sand.

We crossed mountain, desert then mountain. When we landed at Second

Mountains summit, the round and sparkling face of sun was concealed behind circulating

global and the glinting light escaped tiptoe on atmosphere far. The weather got cool and

the faint lustre allowed foot only grazed the valley.

High in horizon stars winking and the nature stood silent. It was an alluring valley,

indeed verdant but muggy. Uncle Jim prudently said, it is wet here, we are better to

spread our tent and lie on, May the rain doesnt fall this night.


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The chorus of reeds and the melody of frogs was quivering eardrum till I was

awake.

Following day, when the dawn appeared in horizon and the glittering light of morn

chasing silently the gloom of night, we started climbing.

We were really drained that legs could scarcely maintain on stones.

The sun was buried behind scattered clouds shelter all rising rays when we crossed

the mountain. We rapidly took a taxi and hastened to our house.

The garden was in backyard. The gentle, generous tree stood quietly and bare

there. The crest was demolished and only sound of gloom appearing in garden.

Uncle Jim was too exhausted, craved to finish soon. He grasped the pickaxe and

wanted to dig the earth, promptly my silly friend uttered sagely, Uncle, the tree will fell if

you dig like that.

You are clever. Uncle Jim extolled.

He nodded his head with jolly smile in his face.

We hitched the tree to four sides then laboured for three hours, striving hard to do

early.

In passing afternoon we clinched. We were really cheerful, on top of the world.


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We did that. Yes, we did that after lots of struggling. My foolish friend was dancing

awkwardly and I lay on grass. Uncle Jim was far, leaned to the wall and gasping deeply.


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Poet: Jonas Joseph

Damp and dark in silent cottage

Window full of web

Light far till spaces

Like single star

Ashed clouds

Damp and dark

**********


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With burning of heart

I see only flame

With shrieking of throat

Shatter wind voice

Cross from ear

Oh, heart is deafer

Could hear

The sound of night-flying bat

*********

Damp and dark

Colour of night moment

In sleeping bed

One go sleep

Hope of sight


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Our eyes

Look weary of morning hope

Night picture

Capture our view

Damp and dark

*********

Oh, what a song?

That song plays with strings of heart

Oh, what a song?

Again in hope

Dreams smash on mind

Till go another home

Till make another hope

That home roof portray with flowers


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Morning with zephyr

Sky blue

Aside flower bushes

Bushes fresh

Behind window, sea

Window is clear

Hearts clear too

From light reflecting

Light gleam

Beach sand, smooth

Passer-by pass

Chant of waterfall

I wish again

Till sea


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Till beach

Make a boat

Sink in waves

Sink in sea


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JONAS JOSEPH

In silence

A voice of nor

May sound of divine

Talking my soul

Talking my heart

Mysterious voice

************

Chant of waterfall

Was familiar


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Utter from lively water

Chorus of birds

Was familiar

Talk moment of gloom and joy

Roar of thunder

Was familiar

Say sulk of nature

Sound of vision

Voice of flower colour

Show beauty

Murmur of sunray

Were familiar

But,

That voice was unfamiliar


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May told long secret

May code of universe

May..............

I heard once

I crave

To hear again

If travel to moon

No, far till sun

Far till galaxy

No, far

Till imagination end

Even farer

Till cross the boundaries of universe

Sink in nor


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Sink in not being

Till no trace from matter

Nothing from me

I will be free

Free from be


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