BIRTHDAY
"Since I was 10 years old, I told myself that I was brave but I knew I wasn't, and had to be. Remember Percy, it took me 13 years to build this confidence; this character. I will take centuries to lose any ounce of it." I still remember that evening when Mr. Whistler told me this, January 21, 2001. I remember because it was my birthday, or perhaps because it was the last time I met Whistler.
It was cold and cloudy outside with temperature almost freezing, and we were on terrace, celebrating my 23rd birthday with few bottles of scotch, few plates of roast, fried mushrooms, and salad. Mr. Whistler and I are not drunkards, but on our every birthday we drank. We used to throw surprise birthday party to each other, though it wasn't a surprise for any of us. We used to eat a lot, talk a lot, and drink a bit. Mr. Whistler used to smoke too, but I didn't. And I never had problem with his smoking.
Raising his head to a bit higher level than general, he blew off the smoke. Holding the leftover of cigarette with thumb and index finger, he kept staring at it. And then, he spoke, "I sold my house today. I cashed all my savings. Whatever I have had earned to this date is with me today, in my bag. If I want, you know, I can stay here forever without worrying even a bit about my past. But Percy, I have to get that back what belongs to me. I have to get my house back."
Mr. Whistler's dad, Din Roah, was a partner in a bank. After 10 years of successful track record, Mudd Finance suddenly experienced some financial leak. Before any further investigation could take place, Din Roah committed suicide. He jumped off of the office building. After few days, Mr. Raby, Din Roah's partner, announced to the press that Din Roah had transferred or misused some portion of the capital, and perhaps the guilt of getting caught intrigued him to commit suicide. Sadly he added, "As our most of capital has been robbed, we apologise to our clients that unfortunately, we are hopelessly liquidating our bank." When the liquidation procedure begun, Mudd Finance was unable to meet all the refunding amount, as such, all personal properties were also auctioned to meet the liquidation need.
Since, Whistler was a child then, Mr. Raby urged bank officers to admit him in an orphanage becase his only house was also being auctioned. Whistler stood there, when the auction held, to remember the name of the purchaser. It was sold to Richard Gary, the Finance manager of an MNC. Whistler stepped ahead, stood behind Richard, and said," Excuse me, Sir."
Richard turned around, and said, "Yes, boy."
"Congratulations, Sir. Your new house is beautiful. Isn't it?"
"Yes, it is, son. But who are you?", Richard replied.
"I am son of Din Roah; you can call me Wish. They say that my father committed suicide. And now, they sold our only house as well."
"I see.", Richard exclaimed.
"Promise me sir, you won't sell this house to anyone else but me.", said Whistler.
"I won't , son." , Richard assured.
"Okay then. I will meet you when I'll grow young.", Whistler said, before departing.
And there he was with me, and all his earnings, after 13 years, ready to walk his talk.
It was cold and cloudy outside with temperature almost freezing, and we were on terrace, celebrating my 23rd birthday with few bottles of scotch, few plates of roast, fried mushrooms, and salad. Mr. Whistler and I are not drunkards, but on our every birthday we drank. We used to throw surprise birthday party to each other, though it wasn't a surprise for any of us. We used to eat a lot, talk a lot, and drink a bit. Mr. Whistler used to smoke too, but I didn't. And I never had problem with his smoking.
Raising his head to a bit higher level than general, he blew off the smoke. Holding the leftover of cigarette with thumb and index finger, he kept staring at it. And then, he spoke, "I sold my house today. I cashed all my savings. Whatever I have had earned to this date is with me today, in my bag. If I want, you know, I can stay here forever without worrying even a bit about my past. But Percy, I have to get that back what belongs to me. I have to get my house back."
Mr. Whistler's dad, Din Roah, was a partner in a bank. After 10 years of successful track record, Mudd Finance suddenly experienced some financial leak. Before any further investigation could take place, Din Roah committed suicide. He jumped off of the office building. After few days, Mr. Raby, Din Roah's partner, announced to the press that Din Roah had transferred or misused some portion of the capital, and perhaps the guilt of getting caught intrigued him to commit suicide. Sadly he added, "As our most of capital has been robbed, we apologise to our clients that unfortunately, we are hopelessly liquidating our bank." When the liquidation procedure begun, Mudd Finance was unable to meet all the refunding amount, as such, all personal properties were also auctioned to meet the liquidation need.
Since, Whistler was a child then, Mr. Raby urged bank officers to admit him in an orphanage becase his only house was also being auctioned. Whistler stood there, when the auction held, to remember the name of the purchaser. It was sold to Richard Gary, the Finance manager of an MNC. Whistler stepped ahead, stood behind Richard, and said," Excuse me, Sir."
Richard turned around, and said, "Yes, boy."
"Congratulations, Sir. Your new house is beautiful. Isn't it?"
"Yes, it is, son. But who are you?", Richard replied.
"I am son of Din Roah; you can call me Wish. They say that my father committed suicide. And now, they sold our only house as well."
"I see.", Richard exclaimed.
"Promise me sir, you won't sell this house to anyone else but me.", said Whistler.
"I won't , son." , Richard assured.
"Okay then. I will meet you when I'll grow young.", Whistler said, before departing.
And there he was with me, and all his earnings, after 13 years, ready to walk his talk.
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BIRTHDAY
Good goob
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2018-06-18 10:07:18
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BIRTHDAY
Nice!
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2018-07-01 04:42:13
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BIRTHDAY
GOOD STORY LOVED HUN GOOD JOB 🤗
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2020-01-05 23:11:19
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