Short Stories in English for Students


The Victory Tower 

Every fortress has a story to inform and has considered many ups and downs in its history.
Monuments like forts, palaces, tombs and landmarks of wars and gala's inform us about our past.
Share with your buddies some thing you comprehend about a monument in your metropolis or neighbouring area.

Read the story and discover out what a monument in a citadel has to say.

I am the Victory Tower located in Chittorgarh fort. You can attain me via bus or train; you can see me standing tall on a five hundred foot excessive hillock that is 5 kilometres lengthy and two kilometers wide. Would you like to see and be aware of about me? Come along!

Chittorgarh fortress has seven gateways! The first is Padan Pol. Please enter and stroll alongside its winding path. You will discover various monuments, temples and palaces on each facets of the path.

Now appear at me! I stand on a forty seven rectangular foot platform and upward jostle to a peak of 122 feet. It used to be constructed via Maharana Kumbha to rejoice his victory over Malwa and Gujarat. That is why the humans name me Vijay Stambh or the Victory Tower.

Step returned a little, take a precise appear at me and experience my architectural beauty. Climb onto my platform and stroll round me. You will get glimpses of scenes from the Puranas, Ramayana and Mahabharata.The masons have carved exclusive incarnations on my walls. They have additionally carved scenes of exceptional social festivals, seasons and dances. These carvings mirror the way of life and life-style of Mewar, which is in the southern vicinity of Rajasthan.

Oh! You appear pretty surprised! Colonel James Tod, too, was once amazed when he first noticed my architectural beauty. He referred to as me an encyclopedia of Indian sculpture. Another well-known vacationer used to be the historian, James Fergusson, who in contrast me to the Trojan Tower in Rome.

But do not be so amazed by using my top notch facade. The magic you see is the creativeness of Jaita, Maharana Kumbha's Chief Royal Mason. Thank him.

He started out to assemble me in 1440 AD. The rhythmic sound of chisels and hammers of the masons endured till I was once executed in 1448 AD. I am a nine-storey tower that stands 122 ft tall, with a winding staircase main up to my eighth floor.

Would you like to climb up to my absolute best storey? But first appear at my entrance. It is referred to as Vishnu Dhwaj.

I have 157 stairs that go winding thru my central wall and the gallery built round it. Climb these stairs and attain my eighth floor. But please be aware! You are now not allowed until the ninth storey.

Now that you have climbed so high, pause to revel in the imposing splendor of one of Rajasthan's most well-known historic monuments. Look round at the fort. You additionally get a breathtaking view of Chittorgarh town! Sit down and relax. Enjoy the cool breeze drifting thru my open windows!

Dear friends, centuries have passed. I have been standing right here for a lengthy time, a silent observer of history. Even if I have recorded the ups and downs of Mewar's past, I do not desire to break your pleasure in journeying me by using telling you about my bitter private experiences or burdening you with my sorrows.

But do pay attention to some of the first-class experiences of my life. I felt very glad on two occasions. I nevertheless take into account them.

The first used to be on the golden sunrise of August 15, 1947 AD. It was once a proud second for me. You would name it a red-letter day in Indian history. On that day India grew to become free and the second our National Flag was once hoisted at the Red Fort in Delhi, I held my head high. My motherland, Mewar, additionally received freedom on that day, pleasing Maharana Kumbha's promise. I breathed freely for the first time in my existence that day.

The 2d used to be the beneficial second of April 6, 1954 AD, when the descendants of the Gadiyalohars entered the Chittorgarh citadel with Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, who used to be then the Prime Minister of India. The Gadiyalohars have been the followers of Maharana Pratap, his companions in his joys and sorrows. When they climbed onto my platform, it regarded as if Maharana Pratap had himself come to life. I held my head excessive with pride!

Friends! Now, India is a free us of a and we trust in democracy. Keep this freedom memorable! It is an beneficial inheritance of our freedom fighters! We have to all be like the Great Kumbha and worship the art, literature and cultural heritage of our country! Adorn yourselves with the values of patriotism and sacrifice for the motherland! Preserve all our monuments of historic and cultural importance.

My right desires are with you! Do go to me again! Goodbye! See you quickly again!

The Ashes That Made Trees Bloom

In the historical days of the daimios, there lived an historic couple whose solely pet was once a little dog. Having no children, they cherished it as even though it have been a baby. The historical dame made it a cushion of blue crape and at mealtime Muko—for that was once its name—would take a seat on it as cushty as any cat. The variety human beings fed the pet with tidbits of fish from their personal chopsticks and all the boiled rice it wanted.

Thus treated, the dumb creature cherished its protectors like a being with a soul.

The ancient man, being a rice farmer, went every day with hoe or spade into the fields, working challenging from morning till O Tento Sama (as the solar is called) had long gone down at the back of the hills. Every day the canine accompanied him to work, in no way as soon as harming the white heron that walked in the footsteps of the historical man to choose up the worms.

For the ancient fellow was once affected person and sort to the whole thing that had life, and regularly grew to become up a sod on motive to provide meals to the birds. One day the canine got here jogging to him, inserting his paws in opposition to his legs and motioning with his head to some spot behind. The historic man at first thinking his pet was once solely taking part in and did no longer idea it. But the canine saved on whining and jogging to and fro for some minutes. Then the historic man observed the canine a few yards to a region the place the animal commenced a energetic scratching.

Thinking it was once perhaps a buried bone or bit of fish, the historical man struck his hoe in the earth, when, lo! a pile of gold gleamed earlier than him.

Thus in an hour the historic couple have been made rich. The excellent souls offered a piece of land, made a feast for their friends, and gave plentifully to their bad neighbours. As for the dog, they petted him until they almost smothered him with kindness.

Now in the identical village there lived a wicked historic man and his wife, no longer a bit touchy and kind, who had continually kicked and scolded all puppies each time any surpassed their house. Hearing of their neighbours’ accurate luck, they coaxed the canine into their backyard and set earlier than him bits of fish and different dainties, hoping he would locate treasure for them. But the dog, being afraid of the merciless pair, would neither consume nor move.

Then they dragged him out of doors, taking a spade and hoe with them. No quicker had the canine received close to a pine tree developing in the backyard than he commenced to paw and scratch the ground, as if a mighty treasure lay beneath.

“Quick, wife, hand me the spade and hoe!" cried the grasping ancient fool, as he danced with joy. Then the covetous ancient fellow, with a spade, and the historic crone, with a hoe, started out to dig; however there used to be nothing however a useless kitten, the odor of which made them drop their equipment and shut their noses. Furious at the dog, the historical man kicked and beat him to death, and the historical girl completed the work with the aid of almost slicing off his head with the sharp hoe. They then flung him into the gap and heaped the earth over his carcass.

The proprietor of the canine heard of the loss of life of his pet and, mourning for him as if he had been his personal child, went at night time underneath the pine tree. He set up some bamboo tubes in the ground, such as are used earlier than tombs, in which he put sparkling flowers. Then he laid a cup of water and a tray of meals on the grave and burned a number of high priced sticks of incense. He mourned a tremendous whilst over his pet, calling him many pricey names, as if he had been alive.

That night time the spirit of the canine regarded to him in a dream and said, “Cut down the pine tree over my grave, and make from it a mortar for your rice pastry and a mill for your bean sauce."

So the ancient man chopped down the tree and reduce out of the centre of the trunk a area about two toes long. With wonderful labour, partly by means of fire, partly via the chisel, he scraped out a hole vicinity as large as a small bowl. He then made a long handled hammer of wood, such as is used for pounding rice. When New Year’s time drew near, he wished to make some rice pastry. When the rice was once all boiled, granny put it into the mortar, the ancient man lifted his hammer to pound the mass into dough, and the blows fell heavy and quick until the pastry was once all prepared for baking. Suddenly the entire mass became into a heap of gold coins.

When the historical girl took the hand-mill, and filling it with beans started to grind, the gold dropped like rain.

Meanwhile the resentful neighbour peeped in at the window when the boiled beans have been being ground.

“Goody me!" cried the historic hag, as she noticed every dripping of sauce turning into yellow gold, till in a few minutes the bath beneath the mill was once full of a shining mass of gold.

So the historical couple had been wealthy again. The subsequent day the stingy and depraved neighbour got here and borrowed the mortar and magic mill. They stuffed one with boiled rice and the different with beans.

Then the historical man commenced to pound and the lady to grind. But at the first blow and turn, the pastry and sauce grew to become into a foul mass of worms. Still extra indignant at this, they chopped the mill into pieces, to use as firewood.

Not lengthy after that the exact ancient man dreamed again, and the spirit of the canine spoke to him, telling him how the depraved human beings had burned the mill made from the pine tree. “Take the ashes of the mill, sprinkle them on the withered trees, and they will bloom again," stated the dog-spirit.

The historical man awakened and went at as soon as to his depraved neighbour’s house, the place he discovered the depressing historical pair sitting at the part of their rectangular fireplace, in the center of the floor, smoking and spinning. From time to time they warmed their fingers and toes with the blaze from some bits of the mill, whilst in the back of them lay a pile of the damaged pieces.

The accurate historical man humbly requested for the ashes. Though the covetous couple became up their noses at him and scolded him as if he had been a thief, they let him fill his basket with the ashes.

On coming home, the historical man took his spouse into the garden. It being winter, their favored cherry tree was once bare. He sprinkled a pinch of ashes on it, and, lo! it sprouted blossoms till it grew to be a cloud of red blooms which perfumed the air. The information of this crammed the village, and each person ran out to see the wonder.

The covetous couple additionally heard the story, and, gathering up the ultimate ashes of the mill, stored them to make withered bushes blossom.

The form historic man, listening to that his lord, the daimio, used to be to skip alongside the excessive avenue close to the village, set out to see him, taking his basket of ashes. As the teach approached, he climbed up into an ancient withered cherry tree that stood by means of the wayside.

Now, in the days of the daimios, it was once the custom, when their lord exceeded by, for all the loyal human beings to shut up their excessive windows. They even pasted them speedy with a slip of paper, so as now not to commit the impertinence of searching down on his lordship. All the human beings alongside the avenue would fall upon their palms and knees and stay prostrate till the procession exceeded by.

The instruct drew near. One tall, ready man marched ahead, crying out to the human beings through the way, “Get down on your knees! Get down on your knees!" And each one kneeled down whilst the procession used to be passing.

Suddenly the chief of the van caught sight of the aged man up in the tree. He was once about to name out to him in an indignant tone, but, seeing he used to be such an historic fellow, he pretended no longer to word him and exceeded him by. So, when the daimio’s palanquin drew near, the historic man, taking a pinch of ashes from his basket, scattered it over the tree. In a second it burst into blossom.

The delighted daimio ordered the educate to be stopped and received out to see the wonder. Calling the historic man to him, he thanked him and ordered provides of silk robes, sponge-cake, followers and different rewards to be given him. He even invited him to his castle.

So the ancient man went gleefully domestic to share his pleasure with his pricey historical wife.

But when the grasping neighbour heard of it, he took some of the magic ashes and went out on the highway. There he waited till a daimio’s teach got here alongside and, rather of kneeling down like the crowd, he climbed a withered cherry tree.

When the daimio himself used to be nearly immediately below him, he threw a handful of ashes over the tree, which did no longer exchange a particle. The wind blew the best dirt in the noses and eyes of the daimio and his wife. Such sneezing and choking! It spoiled all the pomp and dignity of the procession. The man whose commercial enterprise it used to be to cry, “Get down on your knees," seized the historical idiot through the collar, dragged him from the tree, and tumbled him and his ash-basket into the ditch by means of the road. Then, beating him soundly, he left him for dead.

Thus the depraved historical man died in the mud, however the variety buddy of the canine dwelt in peace and plenty, and each he and his spouse lived to a inexperienced ancient age. 

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