Think Beyond-an anthology of short stories

An Extract from Short Story Collectives “Think Beyond”

The Author Madhumitha Murali is an MBA Finance with a growing passion towards writing. The short Story collectives include Novelettes and short stories that are a voice to the youth of today.
The first story is a short story, “A Peep into the Poetic Murder- Friend and Not a Friend- Recapping the Good Old Style”, that tells one to keep it simple.
There existed a man, who spoke in poetic verses. He witnessed a murder at night, the terrific night, he verses upon the tragic view with intensity of lines, but people don’t take him seriously. For one man understood him, he was a threat, one man tried to protect him, and he was his friend.”
There once lived a Man in Scotland called “Poemish Scott” who talked in verses. His playful nature and affinity for poems stole all his time in this engagement. He became a versant in poems, that he talked poems, walked poems and lived poems.
The second is a novelette,“You need not be from IIMs to embark success, if you are talented.”
“This is a novelette, a story, to develop passion for every reader, to move away from barriers evident from a village background. To kindle self- hope and come to truth from flying kites to the reality and develop in the reality to the goals marked, as dreams don’t make a person, it is the evident performance in reality that lives up. A boy lived in a remote village of Wardha, where he was from the lower strata, his English skills were low. He wanted a job in the city. He wanted to grab his dream job in KPST and his English and skills were a barrier. He joined as an Audit Assistant in MN & Co., to sustain his sustenance, and edge close to his dream career. This is a story of a village boy, who learns excel and English to near perfection and masters it and finds his dream job. He is interviewed at KPST two times firstly once and later after 6 months, meanwhile in gap he fights his latent and evident flaws and develops himself in these months, and how he uses his experience and understanding from his previous job to grab a job is what it is all about, in competition with an IIM Calcutta Student. In a heated debate with the Calcutta Guy, can he finally turn his dreams into a reality?

Next Novelette :Rustic in eyes, a wise-owl in life
“Abba, Listen, I can’t come to India. We are settled here, and bringing you here is very impractical Abba, the medical expenses, I can’t afford, but I can give you a peaceful place to stay, many people of your age will be there, and we will visit you, when we come.”
“I don’t want companions, All I want is you, Come back Abrar, Come back to India.”
“Abba try to understand…”
Abba hung up the phone.
In two days, He would have to vacate the house, the house was in dilapidated, in a to-fall condition, and no longer inhabitable. Abrar, had found him an Old age home to stay.
He had been abroad for 10 years with his family and never found time to…visit him, ran his thoughts..
Novelette : Morale Revolution 2025

5 August 2025, 10 pm
Lively India, with people bustling here and there. It is 10pm. Ladies are wandering about everywhere. India means safety and safety means India, a feel in every woman.
There were grand celebrations all around India, India’s celebration of 78 years was rejoiced by every Indian, both at home and abroad. The intellectual class now preferred to stay in India rather than abroad, because India had drastically developed over the years. It was peaceful.
At Delhi
In a cozy house, with a full family, went the conversation.
Granddad: Sleep Anil, its getting late. You have school tomorrow.
Anil: Grandpa, Story first!!
Granddad: Ah, I was wondering what story you would ask me today.
Anil: Today, In school, they talked about a Modern Gandhi and Gandhi.
Madhumitha Murali
I don’t know the difference. That modern Gandhi they introduced, didn’t look like Gandhi in photo. He was just like us. He was old, but talked to us like friends. Do you know him?
Grandpa: Do you want his story?
Anil: Yes Grandpa, Yes!!
Grandpa: The world I lived as a kid and parent was different, India changed from pure Gandhian principles to corruption led country, That man was the Change, His inspiration was the change.
Anil: What is corruption Grandpa, and what are bombs felling terrorists? I heard he cured Terrorism and made a peace paradise, thats what they told at the function. But, I didn’t understand.
Grandpa: I will tell you the history, the modern Gandhi a history Listen……..

Simple Meet: Clash “A Married Woman and Willingly Unmarried “

A Dwindle of Confusion” said Rithick. , “Do you love me or not?” Sandy starred blank. He urged on, “Tell me Sandy, Do you love me or not.”, He pressed. She meant a lot to him. She was his childhood buddy, but overtime, the affection for each other, turned into love. Now, he felt his life was void without her. She was engulfed with storm, in her mind, racing over the memories of happiness complementing with her life’s ambitions that stood strong with each emotion. Now, she had to select the strongest. Her mind raced, “I can’t let him know, she fought with her tears, trying to hold them back. Sandhya Swaminathan, was her name, but people called her Sandy. Maybe, because she had a Sandy hair, or may be because, it was the trend in the office with US system. Her US clients preferred to call her Sandy, so, it became universal around the office. Rithick was her childhood friend, they finished Graduation together, and they were engineers. Though they had feelings for each other, they didn’t let each other know explicitly, When Sandy had plans for her future, and Rithick felt proposing without sureness, would ruin their quarter century friendship. “Sandhya” , He called. She came instant, from the black hole that sucked her feelings into her head…
Novelette: Time Travel with Twins.
“It was a car, which looked like a glass model, with sensors and four passenger seats. Guess what, it is the vehicle, the time travel machine. There it stood proudly, the epitome of all success of human race. It caught the eye with every passerby in the Smart Tech lab. It’s pilot would be run today. To satisfy the rule of balance with the available four seats, with Lewis, Kent and two more were required. Lara had agreed to come along. One seat was yet to fill. Scientists stood watching…All decided three would suffice. Nobody wanted to be a lab rat.”
Lastly, Short Story: The Round Clock of All Times That Zeroes down everything.
“It is a clock of History, the oldest civilization’s history”, said Ashuthosh in awe… Touching it and continued…” Do you believe it clocked right from history to now? “
Nithi said, “We have yet to prove that it is really what the scriptures claim, it could be a hoax,”
Ashuthosh said, “ Maybe, but If it is true, we will be the richest in the world Nithi, and carrying it around is not safe at all, not at all.”
“The trouble is on how on earth are we are going prove it, without attracting attention, which anyone letting know our possession….”said Nithi, strawing out the juice with a slurring noise.
The waiter walked over with an order book, and Nithi slapped the straw back to the plate and said, “Oh man I am yet hungry, why don’t we order meals?”
Ashuthosh waived the waiter over to him, and said, “Two North Indian Thalis then…”
Ashuthosh said, “Hey it says, the Tribal head of the region was the first to use the watch, that means it is as old as Harappa culture, it says, or its competitor, we may have a catch, it might be older than the Harappa culture…”
Nithi hushed him, and said, “Not here… Not here, there are people around, people already have started noticing us…”
Why wouldn’t they? Who frequented seeing two twelve year olds in the City’s most expensive restaurant, on a table, surrounded with so much food that the older adults could not manage.
With Nithi taking a bite of all, and not more and Ashuthosh having appetite a normal teen would have, it was a rare site.
Nithi pulled her bag and said, “Let’s get out from here…”
Ashuthosh slapped a thousand rupee note at the waiter’s hand and said, “Keep the change”. The waiter stared blankly at them, it was the first time ever in life, a kid had tipped him and that too so much money.

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https://pothi.com/pothi/book/ebook-madhumitha-murali-think-beyond

https://pothi.com/pothi/book/madhumitha-murali-think-beyond(for Print Version)

We welcome all your opinions for the book.We hope you enjoy reading!!

Age of uncertaintiy

The child asked with utter ignorance or innocence-sometimes ignorance and innocence are synonymous-to the emperor-‘where is your cloth?’
He was able to do so-because he was fearless- human society till that date was not able to teach him to be afraid!
There is an eternal child within everybody of us who asks often-where is your cloth?
We listen and then tell that child- now go to sleep, darling….it is still not the time to wake up!
We never listen to the eternal child called human conscience- because we are afraid. If we have to listen to him- we have to stand in front of the mirror- to have a look at us- we will see our ugly faces-covered by a cosmetic facade!
Because we are humans- the only animal on earth who can think rationally!
And whose rational thinking has created all the irrationality the world!
sometimes a stormy wind dares to enter our stubborn world- in the form of that ignorant child-or innocent child-or rebel child- in whatever name you can call it – tries to give us a wake up call-‘still not time to rise……’
In the form of a writing, a speech, a movie. ….
‘From where I see’ by Ajay Yadav is such a rebel child- which dares to enter our sleeping soul- like a fresh wind –like a splash of shower-like a beam of sunlight. This just shows us how loosely woven our social fabrics are- how rational we are- how civilisation has given us progress to be ‘civilised’…….
in an recently released Bollywood blockbuster- an alien landed in earth and watches with utter inquisitiveness the customs-the behaviour- the social structure of species Homo Sapiens- but was unable to discover any logic behind. It was a comedy-perhaps with a drop of tears. The same feeling that I had, while watching the movie, Seems to be coming back while reading the book- his humorous way of writing- asking some innocent questions- and never getting the answers……
Or, perhaps getting the answers-which have been dubbed by the writer as a journey towards a Utopian world!
There is a skeletal story in this book- a murder mystery story. it is the story of a doctor- a namesake of the author-finds himself in an awkward situation inside a police station where he finds himself a suspect-or perhaps the prime suspect n a murder case. The murdered woman-was a childhood friend of the doctor- who was not in touch with the author for many, many years after a meeting unpleasant or rather cold- in the college of the lady. Then life had diverted their ways-until they discovered each other in social networking sites. Then there is a frequent journey in the time machine- from past to present and past- revealing the past and the present of the protagonists- partly through flashbacks- partly through direct interactions! And the doctor discovered that she is infested with problems all around-from his near and dear ones, from society, even from the strangers.
Let us discover where this problematic journey takes us!
This is an age of uncertainty, an age of suspicion. Words like faith and trust are completely alien world in this small island called the earth. And our lady protagonist is a victim – rather a victim of a usual enemy. This is a world where love can be considered a sin-if it is done between persons with socioeconomic differences, or with caste or religion being the demarking force. Love jihad has found its mention in the narrative
“He married a girl from his own gotra they were lucky to have escaped from their village and take shelter in this village otherwise people would have slaughtered them. Such things don’t remain hidden for long. When people in this village realised it, they decided to expel them.”
If you consider they were lucky,’ picture abhi baki hai’! Social unrest towards such marriages often ended up in marital relations getting sour and this was no exception. Nobody can understand that a loving dad, or a caring brother how can suddenly becomes hostile towards their darling daughter in the name of religious, caste, creed, or economic barriers. It is the problem of attitude- the teaching of the paternalist society that gives rise to evils such as Khap panchyat.
The bureaucratic behaviour of the babus has been attacked with sharp arrow like satire-a society where corruption and bribe is considered as a propelling force towards progress needs to be attacked rightly. ‘This is the problem with our government sector; no one sees the efficiency before promoting. ‘not on seat’ is the only offence here,’ not on work’ doesn’t make a difference”
In a society marred by unsympathetic, unresponsive, corrupt bureaucrats and politicians the mango man has to live a life of a toad-who has to live within a cocoon- if you dare to step out of your periphery- you will get struck! Black money, parallel economy all has found their places of mention in this context. In the narration of the author-“this is the problem with our government sector, no one sees the efficiency before promoting.’ not on seat’ is the only offence here. ‘Not on work’ does not make a difference.”
the mango man are living merely a living of existence here- a life of frog of the well-who has to live within a cocoon- if he dares to step out of his periphery-he is struck. Man is born free but everywhere is in chains.
The context of the book does not confine itself to a story and a chronicle of the contemporary times-it is a pious attempt to capture the history in transition. The freedom movement of India to the Sino Indian conflict to the tussle with Pakistan- all have been discussed with artistic precision. Naturally all the honourable men have also found their due places of mention in the book.
India- is traditionally been a country of idol worshipper has a tremendous affinity towards person worshipping. we sometimes forget they are mere blood and flesh mortals- with both positive and negative traits-even if he is as great a person as the father of the nation.
In this fiction-story and essay is complimentary to each other-it’s a hybrid- an innovative genre. The language is easy flowing, narratives are mind catching and opinions are strong.
But who killed our protagonist?
May be a person did- but she was killed many years before she was murdered. Disbelief killed her, distrust killed her, dishonesty killed her, pain killed her, grief killed her, despair killed her…….
Like many of us who still walks on the earth like the phantom……
And who will continue to be killed…….
unless as the writer has envisaged we take our first step towards an Utopian dream.

And yes-what the cover tells you?
Just look it at and it will whisper you …….

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