sample copy. not for distribution. - educreation · thanks to niraj singh, amarjeet, ranjit,...

Sample Copy. Not for Distribution.

i

Woodland A Story of Dream Hunters


ii

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING

Shubham Vihar, Mangla, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh - 495001

Website: www.educreation.in __________________________________________________

© Copyright, 2018, Amit Soni

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, optical, chemical, manual, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of its writer.

ISBN: 978-1-5457-1342-6

Price: ` 275.00

The opinions/ contents expressed in this book are solely of the author and do not represent the opinions/ standings/ thoughts of Educreation.

Printed in India


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Woodland A Story of Dream Hunters

Amit Soni

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING (Since 2011)

www.educreation.in


iv

Prologue

Shiva Shastri, whose father died before his parents

got married, born and brought up by his dancer

mother in the city of romance, Kolkata, turns to an

author and becomes the first most young writer of

India. What happened when he met a beautiful girl

Vani in the forest?

Mansukh, grandfather of Shiva, hated his

millionaire father when he was alive. But he cried

when his father was sentenced a death

punishment by the court.

What did force him to leave his millions of

worth empire and wander in the forest and

mountains?

T


v

Acknowledgement

As long as I remember, I have always felt a writer

within me. Although the truth is, it would have not

been possible if I did not find a person who

inspired me to make it happen, and believe me

writing this part for my book made me feel

complete, as I was able to put some words on

behalf of the person who has been behind these

words.

It seemed me likely to happen because I had

only needed words to write. It would have never

been possible if I had needed other things except

words, as I knew it very well that I was feeble to

bring them, and this is what I was encouraged by.

I have realized that stories happen every

moment, everywhere, and I would confess them as

a living thing and perhaps more alive than

thousands of living things. I feel that stories are life

and life is never unknown to you and me.

Therefore, I am not an author. I am a reader who

reads you very closely. I am a medium to introduce

you with yourself.

I know that you are an author and you write

stories every day and I know your stories are

beautiful. I want you to read those stories, and I

believe your stories will astonish you and you will

enjoy your own stories, perhaps more than my

story.


vi

Thankful to

Behind the publication of Woodland there are

many supportive hands. I would be very thankful

to my sister-in-laws Sudhir Soni and Amarveer for

their encouragement and my first readers Arnica,

Raushan, and Shantanu for their positive reviews.

Thanks to Niraj Singh, Amarjeet, Ranjit, Danveer,

Kumud and Pankaj Mani Verma (Vice-Principal

JWS)

Thanks to Mr. Rakesh Bhandari, Mr. Santosh

Sharma (Director JWS) and Mr. Lalit Vijay Chadda

(Principal JWS).

Thanks to all my friends and colleagues from

Taurain World School, Ranchi and Jajba World

School, Gaya.

At the end thanks to Robin Sharma (Author and

Mentor) for writing a book like „The Monk Who Sold

His Ferrari‟ which inspired me to write.

T


vii

T

Dedicated to:

Bhavik Sir

S


Amit Soni

~ 1 ~

T

The words are very powerful. I have always felt

it, and perhaps more than an ordinary person feels.

S


Woodland - A Story of Dream Hunters

~ 2 ~

T

We heard the sound of lighting of the

matchsticks. My grandfather was firing woods to

make tea in the kitchen. Today it had rained

heavily outside and the matchsticks were wet. A

soon after again we heard the sound of firing of the

matchsticks again. My grandmother continued the

story outside of the kitchen at veranda surrounded

by a group of five listeners.

„My house was big and full of the sparrows.

Sparrows were everywhere, over roof, in the rooms,

verandah, and in the worship room. They were my

best of friends. I had only brothers in my joint

family. I was the only girl born in three decades in

the family so I got doted by all six uncles and my

father. Their love and affection made me feel like a

queen of an enrich kingdom‟, she started.

„My father was a great sculptor who worked to

decorate the king‟s palaces. He worked day and

night and earned much easy life for all his younger

in the family as being eldest of all‟.

„Life is nothing but a great teacher. I learnt

some great things from my father. He was very

much dedicated to his family, a perfect leader of

the house, a good friend of me and a great father‟,

she said and wiped her eyes with the fringe of her

cotton Saari. Most of the listeners didn‟t seem to

understand the poignancy but I could feel the

sorrow in her heart. I was thirteen, but more

matured than most of the thirteen – years – old

who were amongst the listeners.


Amit Soni

~ 3 ~

„It is clear in my mind that it was the end of

November when people were preparing to welcome

to the goddess of prosperity and wealth, „Laxmi‟ in

Diwali. My father had been busy collecting money

from customers, buying some beds for home and

visiting to his co – traders to immaculate previous

lends. Sometimes I also used to help him in his

business as I was educated till three and had

earned good hands in making idols‟.

„My youngest uncle Nirankar was the best

amongst my uncles. The ordinary thing was that

he was not much older than I was. We used to play

many games together like marbles and hide & seek

when my father was not at home.

The story created another curious and strange

world for us all the children. But it was not just a

story for me like them. I understood it in a better

way that it was reflecting a long scene of my

grandmother‟s past, played a few decades ago.

„Let‟s go to the temple today to worship the

goddess Laxmi‟, my uncle said early morning next

day on the day of big Diwali.

„Let me take bath‟, I replied.

My grandfather brought tea and puffed rice for

us. Children matched their eyes to each other and

cheered the moment silently. Grandmother

continued.

After ten minutes, we were walking through

the forest towards the temple of goddess Laxmi. He

was uprooting the climbers and small plants which

occupied the narrow way to the Laxmi temple.

„The path is really worst‟, I revealed my

unpleasantness.


Woodland - A Story of Dream Hunters

~ 4 ~

„The hard paths always destinate to the purest

destinations‟, my uncle answered. „Chhoti, do you

know why do we worship god?‟

„Yes‟, I said.

„Why?‟

„When we go to the god he recognizes us,

otherwise how it could be possible for him to know

all in this crowded world?‟

„So you think that god knows you personally‟,

he said and smiled. I quieted for a moment.

„Yes, he cares a lot for me. He knows what I

want, what makes me happy‟.

„Nice philosophy‟, he said in a soft voice. I felt

that my uncle had a different point of view towards

god, but he didn‟t oppose. After two hours of hard

walking through the clumsy woods, we reached to

the temple, which was situated on the peak of the

mountain ranges. The priest of the temple knew

us. He was an old friend of my father. My father

used to take his advices in family and other

matters. He smiled naturally when he saw me.

„How are you my daughter?‟ And how is your

father Harishchandra Jee? He was supposed to

come here to meet me today‟, he asked.

„I had no any idea about this, Gurujee‟, I

answered. „I will ask him when I reach home‟. He

blessed me by putting his palms on my head with

a pure smile on his face.

We entered in the den type temple situated on

the top of the mountain. After worshiping, he

served kheer to us.

„May we leave, Gurujee?‟

„Sure my lovely daughter‟, permitted the priest.

We undesirably departed for home. The weather of


Amit Soni

~ 5 ~

mountain was beautiful with cool blowing air.

While returning we stopped by a well to drink

water. My uncle hatched a bucket of water. After

drinking water, we sat for some time beneath a

banyan tree.

„Sudha, are you ready to get married?‟ My

uncle rarely called me by my name perhaps not

more than once in a year.

„I looked up at him with a bit of amazement

but couldn‟t respond such an unexpected

question. He read out my silence.

„I have heard big brother was talking regarding

your marriage‟, he said. I couldn‟t break my

silence. „That‟s why the priest asked about father

and their meeting today‟, I thought.

Priest was the person who was helping my

father in finding a taintless groom to marry me. My

father was very slick about me. He knew the logics

of life very well. He was a very optimistic and

religious person, but promptly believed in the

terms of life. He wanted my secured life before he

gets down. As per his opinion, life is precious that

we just get by a chance. We should do only things

that make us complete ourselves. He didn‟t believe

in life and just wanted to complete his most desires

and duties related to me or our family. He was an

excellent hard worker and always believed in

Karma, she said and continued again.

After two hours of long walk through the

shadowy woods, we reached home. I was quiet all

the way. Distributed dainty and greeted the elders.

While doing this my eyes were looking for my

father, but he was not there at home. My eyes were

impatient to see my father. I went to my bedroom


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