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34<br />
1st Prize winning Short Story in KNSS Talent<br />
Search 2016 Short Story writing competition<br />
(Group B)<br />
TIME TRAVEL<br />
Arun R<br />
Vimanapura Karayogam<br />
It was a hot summer afternoon. The boys of Plaza Square<br />
were playing hide and seek. Two boys, Ashwin and Adithya<br />
hid in a old hut which was nearby. They could see the catcher<br />
coming towards the old hut through a small opening in the<br />
door. Both of them went to a corner of the hut. They saw a<br />
strange device, it look like an air cooler, a clock and a TV<br />
button said “past”, Second button said “Reset” Third button<br />
said “Future” and the forth button said “set”.<br />
Adithya pressed the 4th and the 3rd button. There were<br />
creating sounds. They both froze. When the notice stopped<br />
they could see “2070” written on the TV screen. They opened<br />
the door. The boys were awestruck in wonder.<br />
Ashwin looked out. The surroundings outside had<br />
completely changed. Their apartment had disappeared. They<br />
saw flying cars all around. They heard a boon sound. The<br />
sound had come from above. They saw a huge clock tower.<br />
The sound had come from there. Filled with wonder, the boys<br />
decided to explore around. They saw many robots, people<br />
wearing space suits along with jet packs and flying. They<br />
also saw huge robots, who had big guns. They looked very<br />
threatening. Adithya went and touched one of the robot. The<br />
robot gave him an uneasy stare and threw him back. Ashwin<br />
went and rescued him. Suddenly a person came running<br />
towards them with a first aid kit. He asked Adithya , “are<br />
you ok?” Adithya was too scared to speak. He pointed to<br />
the bleeding on his leg. Ashwin asked the person “what are<br />
these robots doing”, the person replied “ Hello my name is<br />
Vinay, I was the creator of these robots. But someone hacked<br />
into the main frame of these robots, changed their codes and<br />
made them bad. Now these robots are on an endless rampage<br />
in destroying the city. They have captured, Arun who was<br />
our foremost scientist in bioengineering and robotics. They<br />
planned to kill him until and unless they get the formula<br />
for producing humanoids”. After hearing the story Adithya<br />
and Ashwin got some courage and tried to face the robot.<br />
But when they was about to go, Vinay gave them a gun<br />
which said “robot Main Frame Destruction”. Vinay told<br />
them that they had to shoot the robot with this gun. But when<br />
they was about to shoot, they, robots, produced the scientist<br />
Arun and shot him. The boys recoiled. They saw a swirling<br />
vortex behind them. The vortex sucked Ashwin inside and<br />
left Adithya behind. Then there was total blackness.<br />
Ashwin woke up. All of this had been a dream. His<br />
mother was standing near him. She asked why he was<br />
screaming in his sleep. Ashwin didn’t reply. Instead he<br />
looked at the old hut near his apartment. Then he heard<br />
a doorbell. It was Adithya “Aren’t you coming to play,<br />
Ashwin?”. Ashwin giggled and went out to play. There is<br />
still magic in the air.<br />
1st Prize winning Short Story in KNSS Talent<br />
Search 2016 Short Story writing competition<br />
(Group D)<br />
The Pink Rose Bouquet<br />
Smitha Kurup<br />
Dooravaninagar Karayogam<br />
Every year on my birthday, from the time I remember<br />
one pink rose bouquet was delivered anonymously to me at<br />
my house. There was never a card or note or senders name.<br />
This anonymous bouquet would make me happy, bring<br />
smile, feel special and restless too. All the ways to trace out<br />
the sender were in vain. But after a while, I stopped trying<br />
to discover the identity of the sender. I was just mesmerized<br />
in the beauty of the bouquet, fragrance, perfect pink roses<br />
nested in folds of soft red tissue paper.<br />
But I never stopped imagining who the sender might be.<br />
I was occupied with the mere thought of the pink bouquet<br />
which drove me into a sense of unexplained happiness,<br />
wonderful excitement but too shy or eccentric to make<br />
known of his or her identity. It was often to peculate my<br />
teen years. The curiosity factor was too high then. I would<br />
imagine it might be a boy I had crush on or even someone<br />
who loved me without my notice.<br />
My mother, being my best friend always there to<br />
contribute to my speculations. She would ask me if there<br />
was someone for whom I had done my special kindness,<br />
who might be showing his appreciation anonymously. She<br />
would remind if it was my neighbour whom I helped her<br />
to fetch groceries. She had no children. She even reminded<br />
me if it could be the old man whom I used to help him buy<br />
his regular medicine. My mother did her best to foster my<br />
imagination.<br />
But the sender remained undiscoverable. My mother<br />
wanted to feel us cherished and loved not only by her<br />
but by the world at large. She always imbibed in me the<br />
responsibility towards the people in need around us and<br />
help them as much as I could.<br />
When I was 18, a boy broke my heart. The night I cried<br />
myself to sleep. I must thank my pillow which always is<br />
there to accept my tears. When I woke up in the morning<br />
there was a message scribbled on my mirror in red lipstick.<br />
“New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings”.<br />
Leo Tze<br />
<strong>knss</strong> <strong>news</strong> bulletin March 2017
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