The Postman Who Came Too Late

By Dutta, Abhishek

Book Id: WPLBN0002828045
Format Type: PDF eBook:
File Size: 0.1 MB
Reproduction Date: 5/31/2013

Title:	The Postman Who Came Too Late
Author:	Dutta, Abhishek
Volume:
Language:	English
Subject:	Fiction, Drama and Literature, Short Stories
Collections:	Authors Community, Short Stories
Historic Publication Date:	2013
Publisher:	Abhishek Dutta Blog

Member Page:	Abhishek Dutta
Citation APA MLA Chicago Dutta, B. A. (2013). The Postman Who Came Too Late. Retrieved from http://gutenberg.us/

Description
Nepal has been blessed with heavenly natural beauty. However, the plate tectonics that gave birth to this natural beauty will one day cause massive loss of life and property. A majority of people living in Nepal are largely unaware of their vulnerability to a massive earthquake. Ironically, foreign diplomats seem to be more active in preparing Nepal for this imminent and unpredictable natural disaster: recently the US embassy funded the construction of a blood bank that can survive the impact of an earthquake, Nepal government and some UN agencies are collaborating to prepare critical infrastructures (like airport, emergency shelter, etc.) for a massive earthquake that is bound to hit this beautiful Himalayan kingdom that has already been cursed with a bloody past and a youth-less present. This short story (fiction, 2200 words) describes the home coming of a youth after a massive earthquake in Nepal. It also tries to emphasize the importance of letter writing in current age of instant communication (email, telephone, etc).

Excerpt
The dead bodies recovered from the rubble lay all along the road side like a victory medal of the God. Pulverised concrete had turned the whole city into a dark and grey place. As Alok entered inner parts of the city, roads turned into small mountain of rubble; motionless hands, legs and expressionless faces peeked from these rubble. All the human remains were completely washed with powdered concrete dust and they silently recited the violent tale of furious Mother nature. Bricks had broken free from the tyranny of cement and lay scattered everywhere while naked concrete pillars shamelessly displayed their steel skeletons. A mist created by pulverised concrete floated everywhere like a recently freed spirit and, without any remorse, it flirted with strong smell of decaying human flesh. Stains of dried blood splatted over broken concrete spoke of the bloody feast organised by the Gods. Amid this aftermath of the festival of death, some hope emanated from the light of the pyre of some fortunate dead bodies whose relatives had survived to offer them the last Hindu rites.