Short story for children
Zeenat Iqbal Hakimjee
In heaven, on a cloud, was the Silk Cushion Inn. So beautiful was it that no words were sufficient to describe’ it. The Silk Cushion Inn had “the. softest,, most .tender, structure ever seen, Everything-looked like it was j made up of fluffy cotton balls! or some candy floss. There was no sound of pitter-patter, on the floors for the legs were sunk in the clouds. The walls were so soft that reclining hard against them would mean sinking in. Sleeping here mean that you slept on till you were woken up. There was a special alarm system that woke you up. It rang like a bird song.
It was known, about the Silk Cushion Inn that if anyone sick slept there he woke up all right. Such were the comforts that there was always electricity and water available in abundance, collected from lightening and the rain. Different machines operated on electricity. There were robots to listen to your every command. The waterfalls and the ponds they fell into had all sorts of beautiful fish swimming in it. The stars glowing in the sky just like lamps provided the direction. There were shops, which gave out free chocolate and sweets.
Pieces of moon would fall out and become expensive gems and harps would play soothing tones. Fountains of syrup flowed. Anybody who did good deeds in a day would be put up at the Silk Cushion Inn.
Around this inn there would always be a lot of hustle and bustle. Angels fluttered their wings. Then there were all those close to God, His deputies, and all good men. They were those who had not been sent down to Earth because they were needed in the skies to look after, the .work there. Otherwise who would maintain God’s offices? There was a system there, just like on Earth, where there were differently trained people to cater to the specific departments. Up above electricity came from lightning. Water was’ obtained from rain, People would gather in Sky Square whenever it poured
“Great its going to be bath day today. We’re going to wash our clothes With .the lightning there, work could be attempted at night too,.”I have so much work left over from morning. I think I will complete it in the night,” Someone would say. Meanwhile the angle would be out and about for the benefit of the sinners on Earth / Cleaning them, washing away their sins.
“That mortal on the East Side has committed a sin. We’ll have to cleanse it away. Is a typical line that .one may hear from the angels. On their winged; motorbikes they would reach the place, purify the soul of the evildoer and make him learn from his mistakes. “Do not repeat what you have done again,” they’d leave telling him.
The scene in skies would have God’s people in big, pure white robes strolling from here and there in pursuit of their daily chores, monitoring the weaknesses of human beings and rectifying them. There has been a fight in the corner house on Morris Street.
We’ll have to get there to sort things out. With this and a straight drop from an invisible ladder they’d descend on the house. Spraying an essence of peace they restore things to normal.
The grading system even persists here. Those close to God are given the most important jobs. The best were made to ward off the worst degree of evil. In the capable hands of these angels, all problems would be solved just like that. Some had spacecraft to escort them to Earth. God gave these crafts to die most deserving.
“I earned mine at the annual good deeds contest.” One of the owners informed. Amongst prizes given by God was also a chance to see Mars. Said one angel to another at one such contest, “I have been trying for two years but hope to succeed this year.” The faces of those heavenly folks are so beautiful that they would put the-moon to shame;
Sometimes the moon would cover itself when it saw them. “I feel shadowed by their beauty.” It would say quite awkwardly.
But now my day in this heaven is reaching an end. No bother, 1 will continue with my good deeds to be put up in the Silk Cushion Inn once again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I, Zeenat iqbal hussain am an educated mother and grandmother and feel happy if I achieve on my educational front which in turn motivates me to do better with my housework. I used to write for Dawn and The News and my late father Ahmed Jivanjee was a famous journalist of karachi. I strive to go unsung one day and offer gratitude to Allah swt for his blessings.