The Wolf Strikes Back

Suresh Thadhani

Description

The Wolf Strikes Back In the simple town of Vadovara, a peaceful heaven of Gujarat State of India, a farmer’s family lives. Like every other family, Ratan lives with his wife Ramila and his small daughter in a dignified way. Though he earns a meagre wage, he is content to live a simple life, often helping his community at large. The rich landlord of the community, Chainrai Mody, boasts of his “higher connections” and cajoles the lower working people to submit to his evil plans. But the property owner fails to corrupt Ratan and an undercurrent of mistrust and distrust prevails in the neighborhood spoiling the peaceful atmosphere. A fall off guy, Mangal Singh befriends Ratan, and they foil many attempts of the evil landlord. The seeds of disharmony are planted, and community lives are routinely upset. It is time when Ratan decides to equalize matters and weave a blanket of peace and harmony as prevailed before. Being pushed inch by inch to the wall, he now has only the spring action of a hungry wolf. Read how Ratan manages to camouflage a strike against a strike.

Sujets

• Adventure
• Adventure (Guyana)

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley
• Date de parution: 31 mars 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 4
• EAN13: 9789948798705
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

T he W olf S trikes B ack
S uresh T hadhani
A ustin M acauley P ublishers
2023-03-31
The Wolf Strikes Back About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter 1: Ratan’s Family Chapter 2: The Gardner’s Gaze Chapter 3: The Farmer’s Market Chapter 4: Higher Up Connections Chapter 5: Nocturnal Disturbances Chapter 6: The Doctor’s Medicine Chapter 7: The Rattle Snake Chapter 8: Tea Shop Opens Chapter 9: Owls and Growls Chapter 10: Join Us or Separate Us The Characters in the Novel
About the Author
The Author is a mature person who is based in Dubai for the past four and a half decades. He is originally from Bombay (now Mumbai), India. Writing is his forte, and he has done quite a few stints in college magazines and social clubs. He has visited many countries, in the six continents, and loves travelling. Many of his stories are based on real time episodes and he churns out interestingly in a witty way, easy to understand and bringing a smile on readers’ lips. In his own, words, he says, “If I cannot make you laugh in the first five minutes, then I will cry!” Interestingly, he adds that as you are a good person, you don’t want me to cry! So, there you go, smiling. His core career is based in accounting field, but he says he wants to be an author and so, has quit accounting!
He believes all of us on this good planet are students of life, and likewise we too need to be good in life too!
Dedication
My sincere dedications to my loyal family. Without their help and support, even a shadow of this book would not be visible to the reader!
Copyright Information ©
Suresh Thadhani 2023
The right of Suresh Thadhani to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with Federal Law No. (7) of UAE, Year 2002, Concerning Copyrights and Neighboring Rights.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to legal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The age group that matches the content of the books has been classified according to the age classification system issued by the Ministry of Culture and Youth.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN 9789948798682 (Paperback)
ISBN 9789948798705 (E-Book)
Application Number: MC-10-01-7377204
Age Classification: 17+
First Published 2023
AUSTIN MACAULEY PUBLISHERS FZE
Sharjah Publishing City
P.O Box [519201]
Sharjah, UAE
www.austinmacauley.ae
[phone]
Chapter 1 Ratan’s Family
Ratan finished his daily tasks and before retiring to his bed, he wrapped his arms around his six-month-old baby Nashu, kissed her cheeks, and wished goodnight to his wife Ramila. Sleep was creeping in his tired eyes, but the notes in both of his hands, needed a recount. He was sure his meagre earnings were rupees two hundred and twenty, but his mind told him it could be more. Not bothering for a recount, he gave a last glance at the wall clock, which showed time as 12:30.
Ramila also retired to sleep, but before sleeping she made sure the milk bottle for the baby was warm enough for Nashu, in case the little girl got up in the middle of the night for her feed.
It was a clumsy habit which she wanted to rectify but nature being nature did not bend according to Ramila’s wish and hence she made the milk bottle every night a priority before sleeping. Outside, the winds howled mundanely indicating a chance of thunderstorm or rain. So be it, and Ramila went to sleep. Nashu took a little side turn towards her mother and her little body touching her mother, was enough for her to reconcile sleep in a jiffy. Ramila cuddled her right arm on the baby drawing her close to her tummy.
Ramila could still feel the stillness of the night but somehow the sleep was eluding her. She tried closing her eyes and think nothing but nothing is also something, and it eludes you sometimes when you need it most. In her half-dazed sleep, she thanked God, at least there was an income of rupees Two Hundred and Twenty and she would be able to provide food for her family. She thought of making Aloo Parathas (Indian bread stuffed with boiled potatoes) in the morning and along with homemade curds, the hunger could be kept at bay. Poverty had taught her to be thrifty and she always managed the hunger pangs with little luxuries like curds or butter milk, or even with pickles or little salad. She was also thankful for her husband being a very understanding man as far as food was concerned, he never bothered to inform her what food he liked or disliked, his staple answer was, “You made it, no, it will be good and plenty.”
Ramila was still not getting sleepy, when she heard a large vehicle parking outside her compound wall. With a sudden start, she raised her head, tilting towards the window, and could hear some murmurings and saw two staunch men marching towards her house. She saw the time: it was 2:30 am. Who on earth could be coming to her place? With a little nudge she shook her husband’s shoulder, who just turned sideways and went to sleep again. By now the footsteps were becoming heavier and she guessed they were coming towards her cottage. With an uneasy mind, she once again shrugged her husband’s shoulders, and managed to whisper, “Some footsteps outside.” As soon as she had spoken her words, there was a gentle tug on the wooden doors of her cottage. Ratan unfurled the money he was having in his fist, slid under his pillow and started slowly getting up. Ratan’s tall figure of six feet four inches and broad shoulders made a distinct shadow on the dimly lit wall and a surge of confidence came into the distressed mind of Ramila, who was quite shaken up the by the eerie atmosphere. By this time, there was again a pull on the doors a little harsher than before, sending an alarm of urgency to open the door. Ramila requested her husband not to open the door at this hour of the time, but Ratan put a finger on his lips and told her, “Not to worry, let me see who it is.” Ratan slowly opened the upper latch of the right-hand side half door, and casually pulled the other half door, sneaking a preview of the situation. He saw two men standing in front of his door, folding their hands, and pointing to 14-wheeler lorry, saying, “Please help us, two tires puncture, front tires.” Listening to the low tone whisper, Ramila could guess she too had heard a lorry climb up the ramp near her cottage. Ratan, flatly told them, “NO, not my job.”
And he was about to close the door, when the elder of the two pleaded, “Sir. Please help us, we are in trouble, kindly do this job, here is rupees two thousand, take it now.”
Waving aside the hand that held two thousand, Ratan said, “let us go to the vehicle.”
“Who told you I am the mechanic here?” Ratan asked the taller guy.
The taller guy, whose name was Mangal Singh said, “Sir, by chance we saw some stockpile of used tires near your cottage, and we paused, taking a chance. Guruji (God) never fails us. He brought us here.”
“Alright, let us dig the tool box of the lorry, and meantime, Mangal Singh, pull out two new tires from the deck of the lorry.” The other man pulled out the tools, and brought out a handheld torch, illuminating the path. Ratan inserted the jack under the front wheels and pumping a little, dismantled the first tire. Rolling the tire on the punctured side, Ratan started rotating the tire with his two bare hands, and soon pulled out the inner tire which had a noticeable hole that caused the tire burst. He asked Mangal Singh to do the same to the other tire in the meantime, pulling off the second tire and keeping it ready for the ‘operation’.
Within 30 minutes, both the frontal tires were mended and Mangal Singh gave him two thousand rupees to Ratan. Ratan coolly returned him one thousand two hundred back saying his fees are rupees four hundred for one tire, so that makes total eight hundred and he returned the balance to Mangal Singh. Mangal Singh was astonished, he said, “Sir, upon my word, I volunteered two thousand, you can please keep it.”
“No,” thundered Ratan, “I do not want to take more than what my conscious says.”
At this point Mangal Singh broke down, “Sir, I am on an urgent mission to deliver the silverware in this truck to XXX in Kutch, a place near Gujerat Border. A drive of about four hours from here, truly speaking, this is our own money, contributed by me and my brother. This is all we have in our pockets, God alone knows what XXX will pay us for this delivery.” Out of the doorway, Ramila came with two bottles of water, giving them to her husband, saying, “You can give them, if they need…”
Ratan did not allow his wife to complete her sentence, but handed water bottles to the strangers. The driver brothers folded their hands and uttered, “ Wahe Guruji, Wahe Guruji ” (a prayer script), and departed hastily starting the heavy vehicle with a jerk.
Inside, Nashu was wailing, finding herself alone in the night. At once Ramila took her in her arms and kissed her small face comforted her baby, who made a whimpering face, but soon went to sleep.
Although Ratan was happy, he got rupees eight hundred, he was wary of spending it. He was worried his labor brought him rupees eight Hundred, but at the same time he was not unduly meriting his reward, as he knew this job was done not for a good deed but for a deed extending to a crime had not the driver, Mangal Singh, told him about their mission to deliver the silver at a certain border and to an XXX, he would have been more relaxed. Ramila, sensing s