The Great Scientist ( short story)
CHAPTER 1
"Thats what they look like."
CHAPTER 2
"That's what they look like." said Dinkar, looking out of the window. We both looked at him, carefully observing his movements, while he was involved with his work in excitement. The excitement which an astronomer goes through at the sight of a new planet; the excitement you will have at finding the treasure box thats been hidden in your backyard for years.
"What is he writing?" I inquired, " Or, is he drawing something with the pen?"
"Dont you know, he must be writing some new formula. Something that will lead to an invention," was the quick reply from Dinkar, "All great scientists look the same."
May be Dinkar was correct, but i was not sure. He did look like those weird scientists unaware of their long ugly hair, who dont have time to shave, and if you ask them when and what they ate for the last time? They will stare at you with a blank face.
The only movement he made was that of his right hand, and his head moved as he occassionally looked at the passers'by, sometimes with a smiling face and sometimes perplexed, but most of the time looked down at the notebook on his lap. And he worked like that.
"May be you are right!" exclaimed I, "Just see his face, it looks as if he is trying to solve the toughest of the problems in this world." I still had doubt in what i said, but to an extent i did believe in it.
He was not the scientist who sits in his laboratory - like the one you might be imagining - with so many chemicals of various colors contained in flask about him, mixing them, with his face covered in a mask, and noting down the observations. No, he was not like any of them.
He was clad in an muddy old rag, torn at various places, and thick enough to hide his body features. His dirty brown hair came down well below his chin, and covered more than half of his face. The only part of his that was visible was his face through his hair, and his fist came out of the muddy rag as he worked.
The traffic started to crawl, and we kept looking out at him through the open window frame of the bus. Here was the inventor, the creator of new things, walking on the pebbled road. The only thing I could wish for him was that had he got a proper education, had he got noticed by the scientists community. But, here was the genious walking down the road of truth of life. And dont know how many theories and invention would go with him to the grave.
He looked towards us, with intent of smile, as if he heard my wishes and thanked me for that. I smiled back, though it was soon clear that he was not looking at anyone in particular. I kept looking at him as the bus moved on, and soon lost that photographic frame in the past, through which i had looked at him.
CHAPTER 3
The only thing that remains with me now, is a vague image of his, with blurred outlines, which always changes with time.
"Thats what they look like."
CHAPTER 2
"That's what they look like." said Dinkar, looking out of the window. We both looked at him, carefully observing his movements, while he was involved with his work in excitement. The excitement which an astronomer goes through at the sight of a new planet; the excitement you will have at finding the treasure box thats been hidden in your backyard for years.
"What is he writing?" I inquired, " Or, is he drawing something with the pen?"
"Dont you know, he must be writing some new formula. Something that will lead to an invention," was the quick reply from Dinkar, "All great scientists look the same."
May be Dinkar was correct, but i was not sure. He did look like those weird scientists unaware of their long ugly hair, who dont have time to shave, and if you ask them when and what they ate for the last time? They will stare at you with a blank face.
The only movement he made was that of his right hand, and his head moved as he occassionally looked at the passers'by, sometimes with a smiling face and sometimes perplexed, but most of the time looked down at the notebook on his lap. And he worked like that.
"May be you are right!" exclaimed I, "Just see his face, it looks as if he is trying to solve the toughest of the problems in this world." I still had doubt in what i said, but to an extent i did believe in it.
He was not the scientist who sits in his laboratory - like the one you might be imagining - with so many chemicals of various colors contained in flask about him, mixing them, with his face covered in a mask, and noting down the observations. No, he was not like any of them.
He was clad in an muddy old rag, torn at various places, and thick enough to hide his body features. His dirty brown hair came down well below his chin, and covered more than half of his face. The only part of his that was visible was his face through his hair, and his fist came out of the muddy rag as he worked.
The traffic started to crawl, and we kept looking out at him through the open window frame of the bus. Here was the inventor, the creator of new things, walking on the pebbled road. The only thing I could wish for him was that had he got a proper education, had he got noticed by the scientists community. But, here was the genious walking down the road of truth of life. And dont know how many theories and invention would go with him to the grave.
He looked towards us, with intent of smile, as if he heard my wishes and thanked me for that. I smiled back, though it was soon clear that he was not looking at anyone in particular. I kept looking at him as the bus moved on, and soon lost that photographic frame in the past, through which i had looked at him.
CHAPTER 3
The only thing that remains with me now, is a vague image of his, with blurred outlines, which always changes with time.
posted by prem at 5:24 AM
2 Comments:
nice flow in the story
yeah, i tried to make it as simple as possible, and also interesting yo read.....though at times u may feel it only as an simple incidence
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