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Sow Your Sin, Reap Your Award (standard:Inspirational stories, 3023 words)
Author: Ashwini AhujaAdded: Mar 18 2007Views/Reads: 1655/1100Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
You can not expect good in your life if you cheat innocent people.As you sow so shall you reap.
 



Simran calls him lout. Lout- lout- lout. My friend thinks him- a plain
boy, not lout. “No, he is not a plain boy. He is a lout” She insists. 
“You don't know Rahul- he is also a chap of colossal ignorance, a rogue 
of retribution. I know his sister- she is also corrupt. Gosh! how 
horrible phrases- she uses for them- a chap of ignorance, a rogue of 
retribution, corrupt. No doubt, he could not get through his 
matriculation examination but- a chap of ignorance. How sad, how sad! 
Might a poor, tiny locality boy of sixteen years of age be a rogue of 
retribution to whom his friends address Ramu bechara? Rogue, Ramu 
bechara, rouge, Ramu Bechara. My friend is too confused to decide 
whether he should show sympathy towards him or not. Rogue or Ramu 
bechara? Years back, he was Ram Lal. Great Ram Lal. My friend's father 
lavished praise on him, great Ram Lal; you're great of the greatest. My 
friend's father and his father were friends. He wanted his son to study 
in college so that he might become a great man but destiny was against 
him. Routinely, way back to college, Ram Lal often meets my friend near 
the spinning mill where he works. My friend, along with Simran comes 
from the same road where mill's main gate opens. My friend wants to 
help him in study. Simran is surprised why Rahul is enthusiastic 
helping him in study. Ever any professor of college except for Rahul 
himself endorses his task? Simran hates servile class and does not 
foster sympathy for them. My friend Rahul tactfully reasons. “You know, 
you know, she hails from a rich family, that is why she hates poor 
people” It was the second week of December month when my friend had 
happened to come upon Ramu alias Ram Lal first time while he was 
looking for a servant for his family after coming to the Delhi. During 
conversation, Ramu explained to my friend that he had his old mother 
and a young sister- Pinkie. “Pinkie?” The ears of my friend had erected 
in happiness to listen about a young lady. “Yes, sir” “Might she be 
ready to work in our home?” Rahul had asked. “No, she goes to school” 
“School? Does she study?” “Yes” And my friend decided forthwith that he 
would assist the family with monetary aid. After that day, when he saw 
Ramu on the road, his heart began to bubble with ecstasy and thrill. He 
dreamt that he would invite him his home and he might see Pinkie, young 
Pinkie. In the light of dreams to see Pinkie, his rags did not disgust 
my friend. In fact, my friend wanted to make relations with his sister 
and he began to give him money to make his frequent way into his home. 
After his college finish, he sometimes asked if he could visit his home 
to see his old mother (In fact, young sister) and oneday, Ram Lal 
nodded. “Sir, you- come tomorrow, mill is closed then” My friend 
brimming with elation echoed- Thank you, thank you, thank you”  Simran 
objects- “You will go to his home, why?” “To see his mother, she is old 
and ill” Simran mocks- “God, you're merciful God, Rahul” However, 
sometimes, horrible things happen and my friend's visit in his home was 
of the same kind. Simran wanted my friend very much but Rahul wanted 
Pinkie very much instead. Is Pinkie pretty beautiful? No, no, no. She 
is not fair-coloured but she seemed more attractive than Simran to my 
friend. Really, she is a unique creation of God; he boasted looking at 
her shapely breasts. My friend wanted to help her every possible way 
but Simran, his college colleague was in shilly-shally on the subject 
of supporting paltry people. Oneday, my friend happened to praise on 
Pinkie while discussing her family's dilemma with Simran, she pouted. 
She had the doubts that my friend might develop relationship with the 
petty girl. Although, she did not speak to Rahul directly but her pouts 
and gestures made him understand that she disliked Pinkie to the extent 
of hatred. My friend resolved that he would never reveal anything 
regarding Pinkie to Simran. No doubt, my friend continued meeting with 
Pinkie in her home but he could not talk to her privately in the 
presence of her brother- Ram Lal. Twice or thrice, he gave her some 
money but she was unable to figure out his purpose. “You're gentleman, 
sir. I revere you, sir” She expressed her respect for him when she saw 
some rupees on her palms. Oneday, Ram Lal informed Rahul that he is 
away to another city with mother today and Pinkie might be alone at 
home. “Take care of her, sir” He begged. “No problem, no problem, you 
go, you go” With cunning smile on his lips, my  friend instantly 
decided to make the opportunity fruitful but before rushing towards his 
home after the college finish, he moved towards spinning mill to 
confirm his departure. He contacted the manager office where he faced 
some dubious stares in view of his interest in a petite, low-class 
employee. In a quite rough tone, manager's assistant shrieked. “He is 
away for five days” “Why?” My friend could not dare to ask further. 
When he left the office, he recognised some boys lingering at the gate 
to whom he had met several times before. They too were menial workers. 
“Where is Mr. Ram Lal, you know?” My friend asked one of the boys. “Who 
is Ram Lal?” He amazed. “He also works in this spinning mill” My friend 


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