Wizardgk #40: About the Ending of Chapter 2

Some of you may wonder, “Where did that come from?!” or “Too much out of the blue. I don’t like it.” or just “Crazy“. Well, I will tell you why it is important. See, one way or the other, you are going to be insulted. You will be called names. You will have these rude people around you. Deal with it. Think of it differently. Your caste, race, gender and nationality does not appeal to anyone. You will be criticized. Get over it. People are insecure. Jealous. Scared. They think you are the better person, they are scared that you’ll be more successful. They think too highly of themselves also sometimes. Take little Jeet for example. Of course, he is still Little Jeet. But he was powerful in the wrong way. While playing football, he felt small. He couldn’t pass the ball. But when he was angry, he was powerful. Maybe he wanted to make the player feel weak by showing his strength, or he wanted to hurt him in a way he didn’t know was right or wrong. There are things to consider here. From a humble and kind kid, he became something of a sinner or a violent freak. How?

Now that I got you thinking, you are well prepared for the next few chapters. Farewell. :)

WizardGK #39 : A Footballer’s World, Chapter 2

Wizard GK

Chapter 2: Playing Football for the First Time

“That is great, son. You know, you can be anything you want when you grow up.” Mother had a great smile on her face.
“Anything, mum?” Jeet smiled

Jeet was very excited.

Jeet knew he couldn’t apply for classes yet, but he watched the players play, and he discussed rules of the game with his father. He loved talking to his father whom he loved thoroughly.

6:00 a.m. Monday.
“Jeet, son, get ready for school. Jeet! You have not woken up yet! You’ll miss your bus!”
Jeet groggily waddled out of bed and brushed his teeth. He almost dropped his tooth brush in his sink. But even though his grogginess, little Jeet was born with great reflexes. He thought that he might become a goalkeeper when he becomes a footballer! He hastily shunned away the horror of staying at one place during the whole match and just catching the football whenever it comes to him.
Jeet didn’t eat his usual cereal, instead, he ate bread and butter.
“The cereal has too much sugar, mum. I will not grow up to be a healthy footballer if I grow fatter!” Jeet took a small bite of his toast .
“Don’t talk nonsense, Jeet. You are still in a growth phase. You need to eat more to grow. Now, eat your cereal or mother will be very angry.” Mother retorted. She just wanted Jeet to have a full stomach so that he may be able to focus better on his academics at school. She loved Jeet.
“Sorry, mummy! I did not wish to make you angry, I just thought that if I eat lesser, I will be healthier. I did not know that I would be unhealthy!” Jeet said. Mother kissed Jeet and gave him a tight hug.
Jeet left for school in the school bus. He sat with Mahan, his elder brother, who was reading the news.
“What are you reading, dear brother?” Jeet inquired.
“Nothing, Jeet, football tactics. I have a match today. I need to understand and discuss tactics with my friends.” Brother Mahan mumbled.
“Oh! Football! Let me see! Let me see!” Jeet chirped.
“No, Jeet, you won’t understand.” Brother Mahan said. Jeet wondered if his elder brother was mad at him. He tried one last time.
“NO, Jeet! NO.” Brother Mahan thundered at Jeet.
“Sorry” Jeet squeaked.
Brother Mahan sighed. He hugged Jeet and helped him read the newspaper. Jeet knew his elder brother would never be mad at him, even when he shouts. The paper was very interesting, but Jeet half understood, half didn’t. Alas, the time came when the bus ride would end. Jeet hopped off the bus, thanked the workers and started off to class.
Jeet was very focused normally during classes, but something was unusual about today. Jeet was focusing on the time. He, and you might think of him as a crazy child, but he wanted to play the football game with Mahan’s batch! He just couldn’t wait to play his first game. He might have to persuade Mahan’s friends a little, but that would be it.
“Jeet!” The literature teacher noticed his focus was elsewhere.
“Yes, ma’am?” Jeet stuttered. Oh no! Jeet thought. What have I gotten myself into?
“Okay, Jeet. If you have been paying attention, what did the elves do for the shoemaker?” The teacher interrogated.
Jeet knew this one. He read the story.
“Clothes?” Jeet mumbled
“Jeet, pay attention! The elves make shoes for the shoemaker and the shoemaker gives the elves clothes! Focus!”
Jeet looked down. He felt terrible.
Jeet waited till the last period. Physical Education. He over heard some ten year olds talking about the match being in the last period. All Jeet had to do was give his attendance to the P.E. teacher, and then he sneaked off. The P.E. Teacher took two classes of sixty students each. She wouldn’t know if one was missing. Jeet walked off to the main football field. The area was big. Very big. He’d never been there. He rushed to a party of kids who were standing in a circle and talking. He jumped in.
“Me! Me! I am playing too!” Jeet shouted. All the kids stopped talking. Finally, one spoke.
“Jeet? What are you doing here. Go to class!”
“Who is this kid?”
“Why does he want to play with us?”
“Jeet, please go back to class.”

All this talk came to a halt when a tall, thin boy spoke.

“Let the fatso play.” He said.
Everyone started loudly talking amongst themselves.
Mahan went and tackled the skinny person to the ground.
“If you say a thing about my little brother, I. Will. Break. You.”
Everyone started hissing. The skinny boy started laughing.
“Let us play.” He said.


Mahan went up to Jeet.
“Jeet, let us play. You go to your class. Please.”
But Jeet wouldn’t agree. He believed in determination.
Jeet played alongside Mahan, in a CDM (Defensive Midfielder) position.

The match began.

Jeet closely watched every move of the players, and looked at it with a view that few would see through. Everything stopped in front of him, and he saw these lines drawn from one player to the other, and he saw things that, well, weren’t really happening. He had a distinct memory. He was gifted, oblivious to him at his youth age. The ball rolled to little Jeet, but his weakness and frailty got the better of him, as the balled rolled into the possession of the opposition. He heard a player behind him saying something he would never forgive. Never. He wouldn’t have disclosed it to anyone. He would never speak of it. Moreover, he would never have forgiven himself for it.

Jeet hadn’t discovered his hidden rage. Not until that day. He heard his elder brother fighting with a  foreign person. The foreigner told Mahan to get lost, to the gutter where his family belongs. He added another round of racism, at the point where Jeet started screaming. He took off his shoes which were worn but spiky, and threw it in the face of the disgusting player. The players face was dribbling with blood. But Jeet wasn’t done. He jumped on the foreigner and repeatedly slapped the guy who was lying on the floor. Jeet used his other shoe to whack the player that looked half dead. Jeet was terribly traumatized to speak. He was crying badly. He got red carded and the game was called to a halt. Jeet was given a red card, and he ran out of the pitch, Mahan running behind him.

“Jeet, stop!” Mahan caught Jeet and gave him a tight hug.

“Don’t cry, Jeet. I told you to stay in class. Jeet, listen. In football there are going to be these types of people. Racism is just the beginning. You are young, so it is better to get used to it.”

Jeet was still crying, but he acknowledged what Mahan had said.

At the end of the day, Jeet went up to Mahan and asked him, “Why does football have to get so physical?”

Mahan responded, “Because the sport develops you into a real man.”


WizardGK #40 : Why, Word Press? WHY?!

So, I wrote my second chapter and published it, and when i published it, it comprised of 1299 words. But only 901 of the 1299 words got published. So now I am cursing word press, and dealing with this STUPID problem at the moment. So while I get it sorted out, I will post a few random posts to keep you guys busy. See you!

Anshul : )

Wizardgk #38 : A Gamer’s Vision, 2

WizardGK presents,
Author: Anshul

A Gamer’s Vision

CHAPTER TWO: Visions of Childhood.

You know, one thing I want you to know is that I was really, really scared. I didn’t want you to know, but I was so scared, that I had to tell you that I had failed the mission several times because I was frantically screaming “HELP!” and “LET ME OUT” and “WHY AM I SO HAIRY?!”
Yeah, that is enough. But all that aside, when I really realised my role in this new world, I enjoyed it. Several things were harder that just playing the game on the console, but I got used to it. And I got the occasional headache because of all the knowledge in my brain. Having two lives is no easy feet.
I drove my car to my motel where I then slept for the remainder of the day. In my sleep time, I kept seeing visions of my gaming life. My past, present, and maybe even future…
There were visions of me as a kid. I was playing with a man and then I fell on the ground. The vision shifted to me looking at a big sign saying ‘ORPHANAGE’. The vision dissolved into to a depressing area that you’d imagine in black and white. The vision moved to me getting adopted by a group of gangsters at the age of eleven. The same vision followed to an angle of me holding a gun and aiming at a wall. The vision blackened and I heard gunfire. But I wasn’t firing at a wall. This time it was an actual person. The vision opened up to a dead man in a pool of blood. I was reaching into his pocket to take out his money and I heard sirens in the distance. He was the first civilian that I had ever killed for money. The vision then shifted to different stages of my life, one where I shot the tire of a car that skidded off a mountainside. Then another car chase where I rammed a car off a cliff, and another where a car caught fire after I shot it’s fuel tank open, then I shot the fuel to make the car catch fire. The last vision I saw was of a mansion crumbling to bits after exploding, the police gathering around the site, obviously too late to catch me. The dream whitened, and I woke up in my little room in a rather big motel.
I shook my head and headed to the bathroom and washed my face. With a bit of sleepiness, I managed to drop my toothbrush into the toilet commode. It was pretty old anyway. I got out of the motel in my usual trench coat outfit.
“Why do I always see the same visions?
“There must be some purpose for the presence of the visions, some clue that’ll help me choose the right ending in the end of the game” I thought. Remember that I had said earlier that there would be more than one ending? So maybe…
“You self-centred prick!” A voice behind me started.
“Jordan! Hey, hey! Look who survived!” I was nervous, because I had left him behind in the red Toyota when I ran for my life. I wonder how he survived? I only vividly remembered the first chapter of the game. The rest seemed hazy. Jordan pointed a gun at me. Haha. Nice one.
“It’s empty” I noticed.
“Huh? Nope, full to the brim! I’ll shoot you, traitor!” Jordan stuttered.
“Shoot me”
“Oh I will”
“Do it”
At that, Jordan lowered the gun. He pulled the trigger. Nothing. It was empty. I knew he won’t shoot me. He can’t. I’m too valuable to him. He threw the gun to the ground and pointed a finger to my chest.
“You are lucky I’m alive, or else-“
“Or else what? You’d kill me? Hah! Good one”
“You know what, Jon? I’m tired of you and your over confidence. Let me get to the point. Boss sent me a new contract to raid that kid’s restaurant- um, Chuckee’s Creamers or whatever” Jordan fumbled
“You mean Chuck ‘E’ Cheese’s- why on earth a kiddy restaurant? What, we’ll steal the tickets from the arcade zone and buy a large teddy bear? I’m not complaining -“
“No, no, no! We are stealing the coins that those foolish little kids put into the arcade machine! He gave me the programming code to hack the arcade zone – the total money in there is a whopping hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Talk about robbing kids off their pocket money! So, are you in?”
When I played the game, there was a yes or no option to accept or decline the offer. I previously declined the offer, and all other offers, because I wanted to explore the world more than complete the story. Even if you do decline, however, the story progresses. This time, I accepted.
“Yeah. I accept. What’s the wage cut?”
“Boss said seventy five thousand is to split between the two of us. So say, I get fifty thousand, you get twenty five.”
“That’s laughable. New deal, I get sixty, you get fifteen”
“That offer is so bad that I wish my gun was loaded right now”
“Fine, new deal or no deal – I get thirty-eight grand and you get thirty six point five”
“And what if I say no?”
“Then you won’t get the teddy bear or the extra large cheese pizza. In other words, I’ll shoot you and take the whole seventy five thousand, nothing for you. See? No teddy bear and no pizza. So, deal or no deal.”
“You win. Anyways, you need the cash more than I do, you being a broker now, after the Lamborghini incident.”
“Man, I wish I hadn’t shot that car down.”
*** ***

We arrived at Chuck ‘E’ Cheese’s at one in the afternoon, when the restaurant was buzzing in and out, full of children. Big ones, small ones, skinny ones, fat ones, crazy ones, not-so-crazy ones. Well, they were like the Rats of Hamelin, the children were like Rats and the parents were like Pied Pipers.
“Welcome to Chuck ‘E’ Cheese’s, Sirs! Where are your children?” A fat, life sized Chuck ‘E’ spoke. He was wearing his usual Rat attire, with the caps and T-shirt and a long, long, oversized tail. I chuckled.
“I pray to God that I get one, my friend!” I told Chuck E. Jordan knuckled me in the rib.
“Shaddup Jon. Out of my way, rat” Jordan shoved Chuck ‘E’ out of the way. I apologised to Chuck ‘E’ telling him that Jordan was normally fussy. I gave the guy under the costume ten dollars, the only pocket change I had left, obviously I was about to get more.
We got to the arcade zone. There were kids everywhere. Left, right, and, surprisingly, I found one hanging on a lamp on the ceiling! This place was a madhouse. I caught Jordan tackling a kid and pushing him out of the way, the boy was sprawled on the floor, crying. Where were the parents ? Do they even accompany the children? I know I’d never leave my kids here, if I had any. Jordan came up to me and slipped a phone in my pocket.
“When we get to the control room, you connect the phone to the computer, and install the code. I’ll keep an eye out out for baddies.
The arcade zone was full of games where you shoot the rubber duck or where you smash the dinosaur on the head or where you roll the ball into one of the targets. There was a neon sign saying ‘Staff Only –>’. The control room. Bingo. We rushed in, slammed the guards with a baton, well, that was Jordan’s job. The guards were locked in the control room. The room consisted of two fat people snoring with donut sprinkles all over them. We pushed the sleepy heads aside and got to work. The control room had a hundred screens, five computers, a thousand wires, and a lot of unused technology. The computer was old, 2001 built model, made in China. I plugged in the phone with a really old connecting chord. I hit the keys, entering the code Jordan gave me. Yes, it worked. Five thousand, ten thousand, twenty thousand, the money was pouring into Boss’s account. We’d get our pay in no time. Jordan ran into the room, disconnected the phone and threw me an AK.
“Get cover, we got trouble!” Jordan vaulted behind the table and took cover. I followed. Footsteps travelled into the room. I took a peek at the guy, pointing a gun at the table. I grabbed a broken monitor with both hands, and threw it at the man’s face. He shot the ceiling several times, and the monitor glass broke when it came in contact with his face. The person officially had a monitor for a face. The glass pierced him, and he fell dead. The tech in here had to come of some use. The next few men, dressed in aviator jackets, looked like gangsters, were shot down by the will of my AK. Jordan took the lives of the next five goons. Enemies poured in like kids from Chuck E Cheese’s. I wonder what happened to the kids. We noticed the enemy’s main weapon, an m4. and used their guns after ours ran out. I found a bottle of water in one of the goons’ pockets, so I spread it all over the room, and attached electric wires to the water. Anyone who came in, got electrocuted, we did nothing. Then the shocker came. No pun intended. Jordan had been shot in the leg, by the people coming in with rubber boots, immune to the electricity. The table got destroyed. I was forced to put my hands behind my back. These guys weren’t the police. They probably worked for a secret agency. A gangster kicked me in the stomach and smashed me with a baton. I fell unconscious. We were captured. I didn’t even know if Jordan was alive. I didn’t know if I was alive.

*** *** ***

WizardNews : Victory, Defeat, and Victory Again

Ladies and Gentlemen, I would love to share this triumphant moment with you fellow readers, because – VICTORY IS MINE.

I finally found that post that I was searching for so , so, SO long. That story which I had promised in September – the story where I had made a long second chapter draft. You know, the gaming story. Yes, that one!

So now I can finally continue the saga of “A Gamer’s Vision”, alongside “A Footballer’s World”! Two fun stories for the world to enjoy!

I am looking forward to writing the stories for you fellow readers!

Until the next post! :-)

Edit: I lost my second post, consisting of atleast two or three thousand words. I don’t learn from my mistakes :/

Edit #2: Found it!

Happy Sixtieth Post ; )



Wizard GK #37 : About the Story

So I successfully posted to you readers a proper read after three months, and it kicks off with the readers getting a background on the protagonist.

A couple of things I’d like to add:

1) The Lymington FC Logo is a real football club, honestly I didn’t even know that, and now I see there is one! All logos and relations to the club are purely the club’s ; All rights reserved and all that nonsense

2) The ending is a bit abrupt but I wanted to keep it 999 words strictly. It is exactly 999.

Hope you liked the story! :D



WizardGK #36 : A Footballer’s World, Chapter 1.


A Story Written and Produced by: Anshul



IT is not a surprise that every human in our little world wants to leave their own mark, however big or small it might be. But not all are as fortunate to do what they wanted to do. Some are born with the resources- Money, food, supplies, clothing, shelter — and, some are not. Many of the greatest footballers in our time rose from the ashes of poverty, hunger, no money, no food — but it always takes that extra step of dedication, for success. Many of us leave the world with regret, why couldn’t I do this? Why couldn’t I do that? Why did I waste my life? I wish I had more time. Someone who lives a great life and leaves the Earth with no regrets, is a great human being. We associate the words ‘great human being’ and a ‘dedicated person’ to a little boy, who was quite a bit unfortunate. He was born with a rare illness, that the doctors misdiagnosed and the syrup he used to take had ingredients which made him gain weight. The doctors were unsure what the problem was, so they were trying out different doses, and altering it experimentally, which affected his health. He gained eleven pounds in the course of a month, and that wasn’t very good at all. He grew up a plump boy, in a small city in the state of Maharashtra, India. India was a place where he grew up getting bullied at every step of the way. He’d walk home crying after school, because he’d been teased and called names like ‘Sumo Wrestler’ and ‘Fat Donkey’. He’d end up in a pool of tears outside the school and yet be bullied for being a cry baby. It was just how life was. Everyday he will vow to himself that in the future, the bullies will be sorry because he will become something big, and when that happens, he will laugh upon the tears of the kids that made a fool out of him. Never will they say a word to him. This little boy we talk about, his name, is a very special name, Jeet, meaning victory in Hindi. His parents loved him thoroughly and, like him, wanted him to be something big. Something meaningful. Whenever our little friend Jeet tells her mother about the bullying, the mother kisses him and tells him he would be victorious in the end, like his name, Jeet. Jeet loved all his relatives dearly. He had two brothers, one four years elder to him, and one four years younger to him, and Jeet, is only six years old. His brothers never really got bullied as much as Jeet did, but his ten year old brother was born with six fingers, so his friends are sometimes a bit scared of him. His name, meaning great, is Mahan. Jeet’s younger brother’s name is Dhanya, meaning blessed, because Dhanya was born without any problem — No extra finger, no rare disease, he was just perfect.


JAN, 1st 2025.


Substitution in the 60th minute: JEET JOSHI 

“C’mon Jeet! You can do this. For the club!”

“Jeet Joshi has tackled an enemy in the defensive zone, Jeet is dribbling the ball with full pace, he just did a roulette around the enemy right midfielder ! He is dribbling non stop, he did a rainbow past the opposition’s center back, and he chips the goal keeper… OH MY GOD!”

“Jeet, wake up, it is eight a.m., you’ve slept enough – oh, and happy new year!”

Jeet was lying in bed, eyes wide open.

“Happy new year mummy. I had such a good dream, I almost wish you woke me up later! Now I don’t know if my shot was a goal or not!”

Mother smilled. “Football dreams again, Jeet?”

She hugged her son and apologized to him once again that he couldn’t get the birthday present that he wanted – a proper football. She reminded him that they were saving some money for moving out of India, and staying abroad – and his father has a job offer in the gulf, the United Arab Emirates.

“It is okay mum. You can buy me one in the U.A.E.!”

Jeet was quite the mature kid, he obeyed his parents, and knew right from wrong. Besides, he was more than happy to go to a school far away from the one he is in currently.

Travelling was an exciting prospect for little Jeet. His mother had turned the TV on for him and there was a football match playing. The school had New Year’s holiday going on, so Jeet stayed at home an relaxed. Ever since his ten year old brother Mahan started watching football, Jeet has been into it. He loves the sport. He is crazy about it. But he hadn’t found his favorite football club yet. He followed the Barclays Premier League. Jeet heard of a newly promoted club that used to play in much lower divisions – a club named Lymington FC. He liked the  fact that the club came so far from division to division and now they’re competing in the best league.

“Mummy! I support Lymington FC!” Jeet called out to Mother.

“That’s nice, dear” Mother replied.

Jeet watched in amaze how the footballers were packed with pace and skill, and how they had such calmness and command over the ball. He admired and respected how they played, he liked many of the players, occasionally shouting at the screen saying things like “What a shot!” and “Nice Players” and “WHOAH”.

He had a thought in the back of his head, he wondered, if he had caught an obsession so early,  he admired the sport of football so much, and he wondered something – what if , what if he really was – he needed to tell his mother.

“Mummy! I want to be the best footballer the world has ever seen.”


*** *** ***