Their suite was on the 100th floor, and the hotel elevator wasn’t working.
“Once there were four friends—Ashish, Sonu, Pawan and Anand” my father started the story. “Every year, they used to travel to a new city for vacations, to retreat from their mundane lives. This year, they chose to visit a city called Circle.”
I must’ve been five, and I used to try and make the most of what little time I got with my father. He used to come home late when mother had already put us in bed. Morning’s were busier with the school. I soon figured that my father liked telling stories more than I wanted to listen to them. So, I dodged my bedtime and tried snuggling next to my father whenever I could, each time for a new story.
“Circle was a cosmopolitan city with tall glass buildings, fast roads, lights and lots of people. Bazaar’s used to open all night, with people bustling in the streets. The city never slept.”
He paused for my occasional “hmm” to check if I’ve dozed off.
“So, the four of them booked a lavish suite in a hotel that stood a hundred-storey tall. And, to their excitement, they got their suite on the 100th floor. They were astonished by the view of the city from up top. It looked as if the stars have been scattered on the earth.”
I was already transported into the story by this time.
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This story was originally published at Families on Vocal.
I have been working on a larger story, a dystopian fiction. The first part is called “Pinhari”. The second part is coming out on 28th July.
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You are an amazing person if you’ve come this far. Ciao!
This story is one to stay for long with me too.