My elder brother had taught me to deal in my business. I couldn’t thank
him enough ever in my life. But as many realizations come to us late, this also
came last year, eight years after my brother died.
I hadn’t seen my father.
My brother was all I had. Ten years elder, he was my only parent. He worked with
a scrap metal dealer and supported my education. I wouldn’t say I was a bright
student.
When I was fourteen and
I got into a fight with some kids in neighborhood, at the time when I was supposed
to be in school, my brother decided, I didn’t need education anymore. He
started taking me to the small store, which by then he had started independently.
School had fed me dreams
and I wanted to be a pilot. The small garage turned into a scrap yard was a
nightmare. I spent more time dreaming than working.
For years my brother
patiently taught me the value of different metals and deals that made bucks.
Although I learnt the fine tricks of the trade, my heart was never at work. I
picked up several jobs, at times more than one in order to make enough buck to
avoid sight of that yard.
My brother worked hard
at his business. Even with differences at work, we were really thick together.
He supported me and my family while I fancied a good job and end of misery.
At forty, a sudden
illness, and my brother could no longer work as hard as he did. I reluctantly
joined him.
We then began to deal
with gold and other precious metals. Few years in business, my brother passed
away and I was left on my own to deal with the business.
A small Easter egg, I
bought in a bric a brac market, sat in my shop for long as I tried to fetch a
good price based on the costing my brother taught me. To my frustration, I couldn’t
find a guy who would purchase it for a decent price. I believed it could give
me a profit of few hundreds and was made of some good gold.
However, unable to find
a buyer who would melt it down, it sat on my kitchen top. On a dull evening, my
inquisitive streak from school kicked in and I tried to google the words engraved
in small letters.
The result was this –
And
the rest is history…
-----------------------
Above is a fictitious
account of events that led to finding of the Faberge egg, turning a scrap metal
dealer into a millionaire overnight.
Based on Write Tribe's Wednesday prompt # 9
Have you found Shades of Life on Facebook yet? Please check it out here.
Please take out time to read more about the featured blogger for the month of March "Aditi Kaushiva" here.
Also, check out the post by a non-blogger who penned down her feeling.
Guests are always welcomed at Shades of Life. Drop me a line at sugandha118@gmail.com and I would love to share your thoughts here.
I loved how to wove the tale into this amazing true tale! Good one
ReplyDeleteThanks Nabanita :)
DeleteYou did an amazing job of weaving in all the loose ends from the actual account. Bravo! You are a brilliant story teller. Also love the new layout here at your site. Very innovative and COOL! ♥
ReplyDeleteThanks Kathy...such warm words.
DeleteNicely done dear :) loved the emotive narrative here!
ReplyDeleteThank you :)
DeleteYou have effortlessly woven the egg into the story, lovely.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sulekha
Deletevery cleverly you made this your own story...liked it
ReplyDeleteThanks Shiva :)
DeleteVery interesting.
ReplyDeleteThanks
DeleteHeya, I've tagged you in my post. Hope you enjoy! tagged you here
ReplyDeleteThanks for that tag Aditi...will do that soon.
DeleteLovely creative story, Sugandha :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Anita :)
Delete