A young boy was travelling by train for work from Delhi to Chandigarh. He was all of twenty years and had recently joined his father’s business. He was on his maiden work trip. He was carrying a briefcase….
A young boy was travelling by train for some work from Delhi to Chandigarh. He was all twenty years and had recently joined his father’s business. He was on his maiden work trip. He was carrying a briefcase packed in a brown leather cover. Spreading an immaculate sheet on his seat, he kept the briefcase and watched it with full content and devotion as if some myriad charm was about to evoke from that short, stuffed shabby brown box. As the daylight faded out, all us went off to sleep only t wake up by the shrill cry of the vendors. The twenty year lad was still hugging the briefcase tight to his bosom, as if in the desperate search to feel its contents. After quite some time, I saw him opening the box and taking out a pair of chicks. “Eureka! Eureka!”, shouted the boy. “The eggs belong to a hen. Now I can start my poultry business.”
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