satchelostories

[satchelostories]

Back Where I Started

It was a crisp Monday morning, the kind that tricks you into thinking something new is on the horizon. I stood outside BrightMind Edutech, wearing my neatly pressed shirt—no tie, just the same old watch that hadn’t worked in years but still added a touch of respectability.

After two years of "self-discovery" (read: unemployment), I was finally back in the game. This time, I was sure I’d escape the relentless grind of sales. The job posting had promised customer service, client care, and relationship management. I was done with sales, I told myself. Finished with cold calls, targets, and rejection.

The interview had gone smoothly. “You’ll be managing client relationships,” they said. “No direct selling,” they emphasized. I nodded like I knew exactly what that meant. The relief washed over me as I signed the contract. I’d made it out of the sales world.

Or so I thought.

At precisely 9:01 a.m., reality smacked me in the face. My new manager dropped a list of “potential clients” on my desk and handed me a headset that felt heavier than my dignity. “Just a few calls to get you started,” he said, grinning like a man who knows you’ve been tricked.

I stared at the phone, my old enemy. Sales? Again? How had I come full circle despite all my efforts to avoid it? I felt like I’d been running in place, and life had simply put me right back where I started, laughing at my futile attempts to break free.

The first call went straight to voicemail. The second? A guy who sounded half-asleep and hung up halfway through my pitch. I put the phone down and glanced at my watch—frozen, like time had stopped just for me. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

By lunchtime, I had made a grand total of two miserable calls. My head throbbed, my spirit sank, and I realized with crushing clarity that I was back in sales. Another cog in the relentless machine, only this time with a fancier job title that fooled no one.

I let out a laugh—a bitter, hollow sound that echoed around my cubicle. The guy next to me glanced over, probably wondering if I was losing it. Maybe I was.

In the end, there was nothing left to do but pick up the phone, dial the next number, and accept my fate. The circle had closed, and here I was again, back where I started. But hey, at least the coffee was free.

[satchelostories]

Adventures of Kriya and Kaati: The Forest of Secrets

Kaati’s feet hit the ground with a jolt, and his eyes snapped open to a sky streaked with the soft hues of dawn. The forest around him seemed still, yet alive, as if it was holding its breath, watching him stir. His clothes were smudged with dirt and grass stains, but that wasn’t new; Kaati always managed to look like he’d rolled through a field, even when he hadn’t. His round face, tan from days spent outdoors, was framed by thick, messy hair, jet black and unruly, that stood out in all directions. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and though only twelve, he was built strong and sturdy for his age.

“Kriya! Kriya!” he called, his voice ringing through the trees. A few paces away, Kriya sat up slowly, her hand massaging her head as if she could coax the memory of the last twenty-four hours to the surface. Kriya’s skin had a natural warmth to it. Her long, dark brown hair fell in loose waves around her face, her sharp, intelligent eyes the color of deep honey. She looked delicate, almost fragile, with high cheekbones and a slender frame, but there was a quiet strength to her, a wisdom in her gaze that seemed to transcend her fifteen years.

“I don’t know what you did, but I’m sure this is your fault,” Kriya muttered. Despite her words, there was no malice in her tone. Kriya was always the steady one, the thinker, but Kaati… well, Kaati had a knack for finding trouble and dragging others into it.

“Me?” Kaati scoffed, dusting his hands off. “I don’t even remember what happened yesterday! Do you?”

Kriya frowned, her brow furrowed as she scanned their surroundings. The trees here stood tall, twisted, and gnarled, their branches intertwined like a thousand serpents weaving together. The forest felt foreign, though Kriya couldn’t shake the odd sense that they had been walking in it for far longer than they could recall.

“I… I don’t,” she admitted reluctantly, her voice small. “This forest… it’s strange. Almost like it’s alive.”

Kaati, ever the optimist, grinned. “Alive? Well, good! At least it won’t be boring!”

Kriya sighed. Kaati’s energy was boundless, a storm she could never control. But, even though she knew better, she often found herself swept up in his current. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. First, we figure out where we are and how to get out.”

As they wandered deeper into the forest, they could sense the shifting presence around them. The trees seemed to whisper, and shadows moved in the corners of their vision. Yet no matter how far they walked, the forest stretched on endlessly, as if mocking their efforts.

“I’m not afraid, Kriya,” Kaati declared, his bravado growing with each step. “Whatever’s out here, I’ll take it on! Even if it’s a thousand demons!”

Kriya shivered slightly but kept her voice steady. “It’s not demons I’m worried about. It’s the things that are neither alive nor dead, but something… in between.”

They came upon a clearing, bathed in an eerie twilight glow. In the center stood an ancient stone, etched with symbols that neither Kaati nor Kriya could understand. But one thing was clear: something ancient resided here.

Suddenly, the shadows around them deepened, and from the trees emerged a figure—tall, cloaked in darkness, with eyes like smoldering embers. Raatri, the demon of the night. His voice was as cold as winter’s breath, each word sending a shiver down their spines.

“You are lost, children. Jadalavana will consume you.”

Kaati, ever the brave fool, stepped forward. “Hey! We’re not afraid of you! We’re going to—”

“Kaati, no!” Kriya hissed, pulling him back. But it was too late. Raatri’s eyes flickered, and the forest seemed to close in around them. Shadows danced, and the sky above dimmed as if day itself was being swallowed whole.

“The light, Pagalu, can no longer save you,” Raatri whispered, his voice barely above a rasp, yet it filled the clearing. “For I have consumed it, and soon, I will consume you both.”

Kriya trembled, her mind racing. Pagalu—the light of day. Without it, they were trapped in the night, doomed to wander in darkness. She had heard tales of Raatri and Pagalu, ancient forces that balanced each other—one of the night, the other of the day. If Raatri had consumed Pagalu’s light, there was no escape. Unless…

Kaati, still unafraid, took a bold step toward Raatri. “Well, you can’t just eat light! You’ll get indigestion or something!” he shouted. The ridiculousness of his comment caught even Raatri off guard. There was a pause, a faint twitch in the demon’s expression, as though he was trying to comprehend the sheer foolishness of the boy in front of him.

But Kriya knew better. Kaati’s silliness had always been his greatest weapon. It disarmed people, made them underestimate him. And right now, it was their only chance. While Raatri’s attention wavered, she frantically searched her mind for a way to reignite Pagalu’s light.

“Kaati, keep talking!” she urged, her hands shaking as she knelt by the ancient stone, running her fingers over the carvings.

“So, Raatri,” Kaati began, puffing out his chest, “do you have hobbies besides devouring light? Maybe knitting? Crocheting? What about painting—you could make some lovely shadowy landscapes!”

Raatri’s patience wore thin, and the demon growled, his shadowy form swelling as if to strike. But just then, Kriya gasped. Her fingers had found a hidden symbol beneath the moss on the stone. With trembling hands, she pressed it, and a faint glow began to emanate from the ground beneath them.

The clearing suddenly brightened, as if the sun itself had pierced the veil of Raatri’s darkness. Pagalu’s light, long suppressed, flickered back to life.

“Impossible!” Raatri roared, his form beginning to dissipate as the light grew stronger. “You cannot undo what I have done!”

Kriya, her voice now steady, stood beside Kaati. “Maybe not, but light and dark are two sides of the same coin. You can’t exist without each other. And today isn’t your night.”

With a final flash of light, Raatri vanished, his form scattering like mist in the morning sun. The forest of Jadalavana seemed to sigh in relief, the shadows retreating as the trees straightened and the sky brightened.

Kaati grinned, turning to Kriya. “See? I told you I’d save the day! Literally!”

Kriya rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, but it wasn’t your jokes that did it.”

“Maybe not,” Kaati shrugged, “but they definitely helped.”

Together, they walked on, the path before them now clear, as Jadalavana finally began to loosen its grip.

With the thrill of their triumph over Raatri still coursing through their veins, Kriya and Kaati stood at the forest’s edge, hearts racing and laughter spilling into the cool evening air. As the shadows danced and the stars began to twinkle, they exchanged glances filled with excitement and determination; their adventure was far from over. “We can’t go home just yet,” Kaati exclaimed, his eyes shining with exhilaration. “What about the light of Pagalu? If it can save anyone, maybe it can lead us home.” Kriya smiled knowingly, her thoughts racing as they set off into the twilight, aware that the path ahead was brimming with mysteries yet to be unraveled, a reminder that every ending is merely a new beginning.

[satchelostories]

The Last Entry

Pratap Kumar was not one to shy away from a golden opportunity, and Nambiar Coffee Shop seemed to be glittering with cash. The plan, in his mind, was simple: con Sundari, the cashier, into handing over the cash counter under the pretense of “maintenance.” Easy money—at least, that’s what he thought.

The café buzzed with life as he strolled in. Sundari, barely looking up from her work, seemed unfazed by his arrival. But Pratap was not deterred. After all, he had “charm” on his side.

“Excuse me, madam,” Pratap began, his voice taking on a tone of authority. “Your boss sent me to fix your cash counter. It’s been acting up, hasn’t it?”

Sundari blinked at him, unimpressed. “Hmmm,” she muttered.

“You don’t want any mishaps with all that cash, do you? Best let me handle it before something goes wrong,” Pratap pressed, trying to sound as if this were an urgent matter.

Sundari, with an indifferent shrug, opened the cash drawer. But what Pratap didn’t realize was that she wasn’t about to be fooled. Quietly, almost imperceptibly, she removed the cash before handing over the counter. Pratap, none the wiser, gleefully took it and hurried off, ready to make his "getaway."

What Pratap didn’t expect was the constable sipping tea in the corner, observing him the entire time.

With the cash counter tucked under his arm, Pratap found himself wandering toward Kundanbagh, a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. His plan, as always, was half-baked. He hadn’t thought through what he would do next—he was too focused on the cash that he believed was waiting for him.

As he reached a small alley, Pratap stopped to catch his breath. That’s when he noticed something wrong. The cash counter felt light—too light. With trembling hands, he opened it and found… nothing. Sundari had tricked him. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

Before he could dwell on his misfortune, Pratap heard footsteps approaching. It was the constable from the café. The officer’s presence sent a chill down his spine. Had he been followed?

“What are you doing with that?” the constable asked, eyeing the cash counter.

Pratap froze. His mind raced, searching for a way out. Before he could respond, a sound came from a nearby house—the old Kundanbagh bungalow. It was faint but unmistakable, like something heavy had shifted inside.

The constable, momentarily distracted, gestured toward the house. “Did you hear that?”

Pratap hesitated, unsure of what to say. But the constable’s curiosity had already been piqued. Without waiting for Pratap, he began walking toward the house, and after a few moments of indecision, Pratap followed, not wanting to raise further suspicion.

The two approached the front door, which hung slightly ajar. The air was thick with dust and neglect, but there was something else too—a strange, unsettling stillness. They stepped inside, the old floorboards creaking under their weight.

What they found next would change everything.

In the center of the room were three bodies, lifeless and cold, seated as if they had been waiting for something—or someone. The constable froze in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.

“What… what is this?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Pratap, too, was struck dumb. He had expected a small heist, not a scene straight out of a nightmare. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. How long had these bodies been here? Why hadn’t anyone noticed?

The constable, still in shock, crouched down to examine the scene. The bodies were mummified, their faces frozen in expressions of eerie calm. It was as if death had come quietly, and no one had bothered to check.

“They’ve been dead for months,” the constable muttered, almost to himself. “How did no one report this?”

Pratap, still holding the now-meaningless cash counter, stumbled backward. His grand plan had unraveled into a gruesome reality, and he suddenly realized just how out of his depth he was.

The constable turned to Pratap, suspicion flaring in his eyes. “You. You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Pratap shook his head frantically. “I-I didn’t! I swear! I was just—”

The officer’s face hardened. “You were sneaking around with that cash counter, and now we find this? It doesn’t look good for you.”

Pratap’s mind raced. How had he gone from a petty thief to a suspect in what was quickly shaping up to be a far darker crime?

“I didn’t know about the bodies!” Pratap protested, his voice rising in panic. “I was just—”

Before he could finish, the constable stepped closer, his hand hovering near his holster. “We’ll see about that. You’re coming with me.”

At that moment, Pratap’s world collapsed. The plan that had seemed so simple now lay in ruins, tangled with secrets he hadn’t bargained for. He had stumbled into something far more dangerous than a petty theft. As the constable dragged him toward the door, Pratap glanced back at the house—at the bodies that had been silently waiting to be found.

But in his heart, he knew this was far from over.