Off all the stories told and heard, this may not be the most interesting, but there has been made no effort to make it a work of fiction. This is purely incidental that places and persons mentiones thare in are real and this story belongs to them.
robert langdon was resting in his office room. he would occasionally rest in his comfortable chair, which was large enough for a timid person like him to lay back deep in to it and hang both his feet over the two side handles. he was a cheerless person, a person whose life had not seen even a slight of adventure. carrying the burden of his 5 member family over his weak shoulders, this 42 years old clerk had no interest in anything which would take him away from his office on a working day and from his 2 poster bed on the holidays. today had been a low profile day, with absolutely no work. after all, it was recession. his company was facing a tough time and everyone was in constant danger of being left jobless, but it did not stop him from doing his usual ritual of a good half an hour sleep in his lunch time. he was in his dream.
he was in a street. it was full of people. with the look of it, it looked like the one below his office window. down on the roadside, there was a paperboy, riding a bicycle, waiting for the lights to turn green. a strong urge made robert go to him. he would never do it, but this time he did it. he took a dollar note from his pocket and handed over to the boy, and the boy was shocked. what made him shock was not what robert cared for, but it seemed that something was wrong with his face. he looked himself on the mirror on the cycle handle and was feeling sorry for the boy, for he had decided that the boy had gone crazy. what was wrong there? he took the paper from the boy, entered into his office, climbed up the stairs, sat on the shair and read it.
the headline read- "robert langdon - the founder of holy grail". what it meant, he did not know, but robert was surely happy to see himself on the front page. then, a sudden calm dawned on him, the people down the street had gone silent, as if a feature film had been lowered in volume. no whisper, no horns, nothing. and then the blow came. and he fell.
he was shaken badly. he came back to his senses, but dare not open his eyes. nor he could. a searing heat and a leaking pain was spreading inside him, through the gate made in his upper arm by a bullet. he had not felt nything so painful before. he was lying down beside his table. not a single though would cross his mind. and then the voice came.
"get what you desrve, you stupid. its our property. i cannot imagine how you found it, but it was for me. tell me where is it. where is it?"
robert had not the slightest of idea of what was going on. what is this man talking about?
"i don'y know what are you talking. i have not taken anybody's anything. you are mistaken.", the politeness in his words were originated due to the fear of another bullet.
"don't play with me! i am talking about the holy grail"
holy grail? but it was just a dream. and what the hell is this holy grail. he seems to have lost his mind. i better find a way to get out. but his pain?
bang.
another bullet seared past his ear. he was paralysed and he could feel his blood go cold. it felt like ice water and for a second he thought that it would have been better to have got the bullet. it would felt a lot better than this. but then, he remembered of his wife, his daughter, his mother. he cannot let it slip. ad a sudden rush of motivation made him lunge on to his feet. he could now see the man, who seemed to have been surprised by this new energy of his.
"what do you want? i do not know anything about the holy grail. i don't even know what it is. who are you, by the way?" robert all this in a hurry, almost like reciting it from the heart. as soon as he said it, he was regreting it because now, the man was holding the rifle at his forehead.
how foolish i was? now, i am gonna die any moment.
but to his surprise, the man, the man lowered the rifle and started laughing, almost dropping it by the jerk of madness. the laughter surrounded the entire place, as if looking at robert from invisible speakers all over the room. the door banged open. the entire staff of the office rushed through. robert, holding his right hand with his left, felt his mouth open wide. the air in his lungs rushed trough to his lips to yell for help, when he suddenly realised that there was no need, or no hope.
the entire staff was roaring with laughter. they had went mad. then he saw mr.johnson, his boss, laughing his lungs out and repeatedly pointing at robert.
the shooter was the first one to hold himself and said, with unsucceessful attempts at hiding his laughter,, "you don't know anything about the holy grail. all right. we will tell you." and he again cried out with laughter.
and with a sudden change in his actions, he held out his rifle and shot robert. he fell with a large thud and died.
sweat was all around his body as he woke up in his chair. he had been asleep for a lot more than he could afford to. his shirt was completely in the back. he could feel it, although he had not opened his eyes yet. the dream was real, that he had little doubt that this would not be another. robert slowly felt energy pouring out into his limbs, as he moved them. he had no idea what was happening. but, as he opened his eyes, he could see mr. johnson staing at him, gesturing slowly but surely at his wrist watch. robert hesitated, but with little hope he lunged forward to have a look the time in the watch in his watch. it was 4, two hours past his lunch break and he could feel his job slipping out of his hand. and so it did. he was thrashed from his office with his bag that very minute. this was his seventh job termination, or rather transfer as robert put it, of the year. his daysreaming habit was something which had not left him from his childhood days, but he seemed to have surrenderd to it completely. now, jobless again, the experience did not seem to be odd. he was passing by the street he had seen in his dream, and paid a disheartening glance at his office window and then to the beauty soap advertisement, which shone bright in red lights on the opposite signboard. with a resentful mood, he read at the bottom. "holy grail, never fails". a chors struck in his mind. so now, he had been thrown out of his job for a soap advertisement. what will he tell his wife, that he has lost his job to a beauty soap?
but why had that man come to kill him for this soap? and he believed that he had read the name somewhere else as well. al though he was poor at memory, this was actually the first time in his life, that he made it work desperately. and then another chord struck in his mind. he had seen it in the bible, in the routine four line reading he gave to it every morning, much due to the request his mother had made, so as to calm his mind after his job loss. but, it had not worked, rather, it had cost him another one. but, he was thinking elsewhere.
he did not take the conventional tram to his home, but to the library. he had done the most outstanding thinking of his life in the next two hours and at some stages of it, he felt scared to have gone mad, or lost control of his mind. but, something inside him said that he was going right. and in just a year, he wrote an entire book, taking time out of his lunch hours and on holidays. it was named "the da vinci code".
yes, it is the true story of dan brown, aka j.k rowling type. all authors do it the same way. i did it the same way myself as well happy reading.
robert langdon was resting in his office room. he would occasionally rest in his comfortable chair, which was large enough for a timid person like him to lay back deep in to it and hang both his feet over the two side handles. he was a cheerless person, a person whose life had not seen even a slight of adventure. carrying the burden of his 5 member family over his weak shoulders, this 42 years old clerk had no interest in anything which would take him away from his office on a working day and from his 2 poster bed on the holidays. today had been a low profile day, with absolutely no work. after all, it was recession. his company was facing a tough time and everyone was in constant danger of being left jobless, but it did not stop him from doing his usual ritual of a good half an hour sleep in his lunch time. he was in his dream.
he was in a street. it was full of people. with the look of it, it looked like the one below his office window. down on the roadside, there was a paperboy, riding a bicycle, waiting for the lights to turn green. a strong urge made robert go to him. he would never do it, but this time he did it. he took a dollar note from his pocket and handed over to the boy, and the boy was shocked. what made him shock was not what robert cared for, but it seemed that something was wrong with his face. he looked himself on the mirror on the cycle handle and was feeling sorry for the boy, for he had decided that the boy had gone crazy. what was wrong there? he took the paper from the boy, entered into his office, climbed up the stairs, sat on the shair and read it.
the headline read- "robert langdon - the founder of holy grail". what it meant, he did not know, but robert was surely happy to see himself on the front page. then, a sudden calm dawned on him, the people down the street had gone silent, as if a feature film had been lowered in volume. no whisper, no horns, nothing. and then the blow came. and he fell.
he was shaken badly. he came back to his senses, but dare not open his eyes. nor he could. a searing heat and a leaking pain was spreading inside him, through the gate made in his upper arm by a bullet. he had not felt nything so painful before. he was lying down beside his table. not a single though would cross his mind. and then the voice came.
"get what you desrve, you stupid. its our property. i cannot imagine how you found it, but it was for me. tell me where is it. where is it?"
robert had not the slightest of idea of what was going on. what is this man talking about?
"i don'y know what are you talking. i have not taken anybody's anything. you are mistaken.", the politeness in his words were originated due to the fear of another bullet.
"don't play with me! i am talking about the holy grail"
holy grail? but it was just a dream. and what the hell is this holy grail. he seems to have lost his mind. i better find a way to get out. but his pain?
bang.
another bullet seared past his ear. he was paralysed and he could feel his blood go cold. it felt like ice water and for a second he thought that it would have been better to have got the bullet. it would felt a lot better than this. but then, he remembered of his wife, his daughter, his mother. he cannot let it slip. ad a sudden rush of motivation made him lunge on to his feet. he could now see the man, who seemed to have been surprised by this new energy of his.
"what do you want? i do not know anything about the holy grail. i don't even know what it is. who are you, by the way?" robert all this in a hurry, almost like reciting it from the heart. as soon as he said it, he was regreting it because now, the man was holding the rifle at his forehead.
how foolish i was? now, i am gonna die any moment.
but to his surprise, the man, the man lowered the rifle and started laughing, almost dropping it by the jerk of madness. the laughter surrounded the entire place, as if looking at robert from invisible speakers all over the room. the door banged open. the entire staff of the office rushed through. robert, holding his right hand with his left, felt his mouth open wide. the air in his lungs rushed trough to his lips to yell for help, when he suddenly realised that there was no need, or no hope.
the entire staff was roaring with laughter. they had went mad. then he saw mr.johnson, his boss, laughing his lungs out and repeatedly pointing at robert.
the shooter was the first one to hold himself and said, with unsucceessful attempts at hiding his laughter,, "you don't know anything about the holy grail. all right. we will tell you." and he again cried out with laughter.
and with a sudden change in his actions, he held out his rifle and shot robert. he fell with a large thud and died.
sweat was all around his body as he woke up in his chair. he had been asleep for a lot more than he could afford to. his shirt was completely in the back. he could feel it, although he had not opened his eyes yet. the dream was real, that he had little doubt that this would not be another. robert slowly felt energy pouring out into his limbs, as he moved them. he had no idea what was happening. but, as he opened his eyes, he could see mr. johnson staing at him, gesturing slowly but surely at his wrist watch. robert hesitated, but with little hope he lunged forward to have a look the time in the watch in his watch. it was 4, two hours past his lunch break and he could feel his job slipping out of his hand. and so it did. he was thrashed from his office with his bag that very minute. this was his seventh job termination, or rather transfer as robert put it, of the year. his daysreaming habit was something which had not left him from his childhood days, but he seemed to have surrenderd to it completely. now, jobless again, the experience did not seem to be odd. he was passing by the street he had seen in his dream, and paid a disheartening glance at his office window and then to the beauty soap advertisement, which shone bright in red lights on the opposite signboard. with a resentful mood, he read at the bottom. "holy grail, never fails". a chors struck in his mind. so now, he had been thrown out of his job for a soap advertisement. what will he tell his wife, that he has lost his job to a beauty soap?
but why had that man come to kill him for this soap? and he believed that he had read the name somewhere else as well. al though he was poor at memory, this was actually the first time in his life, that he made it work desperately. and then another chord struck in his mind. he had seen it in the bible, in the routine four line reading he gave to it every morning, much due to the request his mother had made, so as to calm his mind after his job loss. but, it had not worked, rather, it had cost him another one. but, he was thinking elsewhere.
he did not take the conventional tram to his home, but to the library. he had done the most outstanding thinking of his life in the next two hours and at some stages of it, he felt scared to have gone mad, or lost control of his mind. but, something inside him said that he was going right. and in just a year, he wrote an entire book, taking time out of his lunch hours and on holidays. it was named "the da vinci code".
yes, it is the true story of dan brown, aka j.k rowling type. all authors do it the same way. i did it the same way myself as well happy reading.
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