A dog once started a Business. The market was big, and the profits were good. The local fox asked the dog to put his money in the fox's Bank. The dog agreed. Then, with expansion plans in mind, the dog asked the public for more money. Shares were sold. Intelligent owls put their coins into the Business. The dog, fox and owls were all happy. Enter the Big Bull.
The Big Bull showed the fox the huge money to be made in stocks. He persuaded him to lend the Bank's money to him. With this money, the Big Bull bought lots and lots of shares of the dog's Business. Its shares increased in value. The owl community was stirred. Many more flapped their wings and joined in. They also started buying. Everyone was happy. Enter the Bear.
The Bear also bought lots and lots of shares. Prices kept rising. And then, suddenly, he sold it all. New owls bought these shares eagerly. But the old owls felt uneasy and started selling too. Now the new owls got scared and wanted to back out. Everyone started selling. But noone was left to buy. The Bear made money. The Bull suffered losses, could not repay the fox and had to go to jail. The owls flew away. The fox was fired from his bank. But the dog it was that died. AbNQ
Train-Waiting
The fat one checked out the list of reserved seats on the Gorakhpur Passenger. Without his reading glasses, he slowly fingered through each of the names and checked the spelling to see whether it was his name. All this while, he squeezed the wind out of a puny boy in front of him.
The thin one, who had been picking his teeth with utmost concentration till now, spat out the masticated remains of his dinner. He eyed everyone else on the platform with a look of suspicion, but which actually was the innocent look of a naturally cross-eyed man.
Meanwhile the familiar sing-song voice crackled over the public address system and announced to anyone who cared to listen that the concerned train would be arriving an hour late.
"What was that?" the fat one asked, widening his eyes to relieve them from squinting.
"Who knows what they say?" replied the thin one, plunging the toothpick back into his mouth.
Ten minutes later, a Garibrath chugged into the station. "Is this ours?" the fat one asked again.
"Must be," the thin one replied. "It should have been here ten minutes ago. Let's move."
"But wait. Let me read the name of the train. G... R... ok. Good. Only ten minutes late. Will do..."
The thin one, who had been picking his teeth with utmost concentration till now, spat out the masticated remains of his dinner. He eyed everyone else on the platform with a look of suspicion, but which actually was the innocent look of a naturally cross-eyed man.
Meanwhile the familiar sing-song voice crackled over the public address system and announced to anyone who cared to listen that the concerned train would be arriving an hour late.
"What was that?" the fat one asked, widening his eyes to relieve them from squinting.
"Who knows what they say?" replied the thin one, plunging the toothpick back into his mouth.
Ten minutes later, a Garibrath chugged into the station. "Is this ours?" the fat one asked again.
"Must be," the thin one replied. "It should have been here ten minutes ago. Let's move."
"But wait. Let me read the name of the train. G... R... ok. Good. Only ten minutes late. Will do..."
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