Untold Story | Raviteja Nekkalapu


Everyone has an “Untold Story” in their life which becomes the reason behind their success. Never underestimate or discourage someone when they aspire to reach heights.


“Singing ?”

“Yes, mom!”

“Is it a profession? I don’t think so! I used to sing at my college during occasions but I can’t take it now. I mean throughout life. Do you got my point ?”

Similar words!

 Yes! Those words reminded me that I had a past.

A story that celebrates five years.

That silence in the auditorium and those words from the play took me five years back.


“Writer? Is it a profession? I don’t think so! My father used to write diary some years back and does it mean he is a writer ?”  replied an eighteen-year-old girl with an innocent smile on her face.

………….”

I continued to write down the scene.

Suddenly I heard some footsteps are approaching me, making some unusual sounds. My heart started pumping the blood quicker than usual.

“Hey guys, Look at him. He is writing something.”

One of them took the book away from me.

“It seems to be a Love letter.” [ Looking into the book]

“No ! Wait, it looks like a Love story.”

“You mean the story of Romeo and Juliet ?”

“Not exactly, but look at him. I think he is looking like a Shakespeare  if I am not wrong ?”

“Shakespeare ?”

[Laughing]

“Hey, Shakespeare! Let’s go out and have some fun.”

I remained silent for a while and asked my book politely.

They passed the book from one to another and finally, it fell somewhere in between the benches in the classroom we were. I took it and went out of the classroom. When I reached the end point, I heard those four guys laughing loudly at me. Without paying attention, I walked out.

Incidents like these happen regularly to me. To them, I was a play toy. And interestingly, they are not my seniors. They are my classmates. I can’t fight with them because they play football, basketball and what not! I mean they belong to sports category having rough hands and stiffed body structure. They are well known public figures in the entire college. I was very thin and weak.

All the images used are for representational

At times, I thought of giving a complaint to our principal about them but I was convinced by my only friend Vijay. Vijay is the only one to whom I am close to. He is best in academics in our class and he always speaks straightforwardly without hiding things. I like it very much in him. He saves me from them sometimes with his cleverness.

I used to be alone most of the time in college as I don’t have friends except Vijay and he is the one who always supports me to learn a lot about literature, which I am interested in. I spend evening hours at English literature section in the library. The library is the only place where I can learn a lot from the books. After completing my first novel, I sent it to many websites, magazines, etc. I had complete trust in my story and my love towards the characters in the novel assures my confidence.

One day, as usual, during  “Networks” period, the entire class looked dull and boring. Everyone started making noise and among them, someone created a strange and irritating noise with bench. Our Networks madam was busy in writing something on the board. She looked back and shouted angrily

 ” Who was that? ” She added, ” If you don’t agree your mistake by yourself, then the  consequences will be beyond your imagination.”

Everything happened all of a sudden.

“Arjun….Arjun….”

A familiar voice screamed in a low tone and it spread throughout the class.

“Arjun, get out of my class”

Silence filled in the class for a while.

“Immediately ……” with an increased tone.

She added ” you don’t know discipline. You are not good at academics. And you don’t play games .what you would like to do in future? Useless…….”

“Shakespeare… Shakespeare…….”

Everyone started shouting and some were laughing too. Tears hid behind my eyes to come out but my eyes interrupted them and sent them back. I walked out of the classroom with my book. The heavy wind outside forced me to leave the book from my hands. And when I started to collect it, pages rolled and stopped somewhere. It was written

” When you lose patience,

then you lose your “right to win” along with that. “

Yes! It was written by me some time ago and these words kept me and my hope alive and arise till now. When I reached my room, I got letters and emails from various websites and magazines. They all contain same content that my novel was not up to the mark and it got eliminated in the very first round. Time accelerated its gear and days passed like the sun in the sky. But one thing remained unchanged about me i.e., my hope to win. I am afraid that one day I may lose even the hope.

After some days, I got a mail from “The Hindu”. It is said that my novel went to the final round and the winner will be announced soon.

“The Hindu literary Prize ?? “

“Is it really my novel that went through a tough competition and reached finals?” I thought for a while and there was another mail which informed that I lost the competition in the finals.

I was overwhelmed and speechless. I lost in the finals but I won the race. Yes! I won the race. Then I learned the most important lesson in my life. If the things you need goes away from you, then it doesn’t mean that you aren’t eligible for want you want instead you are more eligible for something more which even you can’t imagine.

And believe me, if someone criticizes you, then it is the best opportunity for you, as an individual, to show them how capable are you.


People around me started applauding for the play that had happened and with the sound they made, I came into reality, away from the story that celebrates five years.

“And after this wonderful play, Let us come into the prize distribution. Now I would like to invite Mr. Arjun Singh on to the dais who is the winner of  “Yuva Puraskar” for the year 2017 for his exemplary literature work  “The Untold Story “

 Behind every story, there is a writer and behind every writer, there always exists an untold story.



The Writer: Raviteja Nekkalapu

Curator: Saizal Gupta



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