"Do good and good will happen" I completely believed in this proverb until last week but now I believe in, "Do good and bad can happen with you." I can never forget what happened to me that day, so I decided to write my story in my diary. I was getting bored lying on the bed anyway with a plastered foot as I broke my leg while saving myself from the devil. On that day, I was cosy sitting on my couch. Then I heard a loud scream.


“How dare you touch my mangoes!” I spilled my hot coffee on my lap in shock. “Aaah…” I screamed in pain as my lap was burnt with the hot coffee.

“Your mangoes! they're not YOURS,” Uncle Prempujari growled, asserting the word ‘YOURS’. This happens every summer. When these juicy mangoes ripen,both of them literally try to kill each other for them. But in my opinion, this is all Grandpa Chandu Panday's fault.

I don't understand why the hell he planted only one mango tree in the middle of this garden on which both of them have equal rights!

I'm sure that grandpa Chandu must be watching all this drama from heaven, sitting with some beautiful girls while taking sips of his favourite sherry. I've just shifted here last month and I'm already amazed to see the kind of people who live here and uncle Gopal and uncle Prempujari are one of those people.

“I'm warning you for the one last time! Don't touch them, KISULI!” Uncle Gopal screamed asserting the word ‘KISULI’ which means a dry mango seed. It’s an awadhi word, used to mock extremely skinny men (like uncle pujari).

“I will... What can you do, Football?” Uncle Pujari growled. Well, uncle Gopal is a cute, short man with a big round football like tummy.

“Pandey ji... Don't argue!” Uncle Pujari's wife, Mrs.Prem Dulari shouted in her honey sweet voice like a crow (I thought sarcastically). But where is she? I couldn’t see her there. Then I looked a little up and found her sitting on that evil mango tree’s Twig. I don’t understand, how the hell did she manage to climb up wearing a saree!

She was holding a small basket in her hand, in which she was keeping the mangoes. She’s literally uncle Pujari's female version. I mean they are just made for each other. Suddenly, a mango fell down on uncle Gopal's head (hmm... naughty mango).

“You witch! How dare you hit a mango?” Uncle Gopal furiously picked up a rock and hit Mrs.Dulari's face. He cannot control his anger, this is his biggest weakness. The moment the rock hit her face, tears pooled in her eyes and she cried loudly, shaking the earth as if it were some earthquake.

“Pujari ji! look what he did to me,” she sobbed showing her cheek which had now swollen like a red tomato. She deserves it, I grinned as she’s a very annoying lady. But what happened next, had never happened before, uncle Pujari slapped uncle Gopal hard across the cheek and pushed him furiously on the ground.

“Oh my God!” the only words that came out of my mouth and rushed towards the garden.

"You witch! How dare you hit me with a mango," he explodes like a balloon. Uncle Gopal slowly got up and gave a kick in his stomach.

“Ahh...!” he cried in pain holding his stomach (while making awkward faces as if he was having some constipation problem).

Now they were biting, scratching, kicking and slapping each other. I quickly jumped between them, I tried very hard to separate them but they were clutching each other quite freakin tight.

Suddenly, I don't know what the hell comes in their mind that leaving each other, they started beating me together, “What the hell!” I shrieked in horror.

“Have you guys gone mad?” I cried as I had finally managed to get myself away from their clutches. They both looked at me with I.Don't.Care look, their faces were covered with bruises and scratches.. I was really missing uncle Gopal's wife right now, if she would have been here then this wouldn't have ever happened. She’s a very kind lady (unlike Prem Dulari), but unfortunately she had gone to her hometown to meet her mother as a buffalo had kicked her on the back and now it's fractured.

Uncle Pujari spit on the ground and furiously picked up a rock. He gave a stink eye to uncle Gopal before throwing that stone at him but he dodged and the stone fell in Grandpa Tiwari’s lawn and a loud sound of breaking of something echoed. We looked at each other in terror as what uncle has done is equal to committing a crime.

I believe that grandpa Tiwari is the weirdest person I know. When he retired, he bought his favourite car and gifted it to himself, he calls it ‘Lucky’. After Lucky, his three dogs, 'Ganga,Yamuna, Saraswati' are his life and he had named them after his favourite movie of the same name.

"Oh! I forgot, I had put milk on the stove," Mrs.Prem Dulari exclaimed in fake shock. Then, she quickly climbed down the tree and ran into the house. What a being she is!

I was blabbering at them furiously but they were staring down at something behind me, so I turned around to know where they were looking. Grandpa Tiwari was coming back with his dogs, they were looking freaking terrifying.

Then Uncle Pujari came to me with a sheepish grin and took my hand in his hand, then he kept something on my palm and closed my fist. After that he and uncle Gopal headed towards their house, whistling casually and I watched them going away with a stupefied expression. How can they be so normal? I thought in my mind.

When I opened my fist, it was something wrapped with paper. I slowly unwrapped the paper. My pupils enlarged because it was a stone!

"Bough-wough!” chills ran down my spin, I gulped and shakingly turned around, grandpa Tiwari and his not-so friendly dogs were glaring at me.

Grandpa looked at me and then on my hand. I immediately threw the stone on the ground. All the dogs gave me a dead look. So, the moral of my tragic story is that helping your neighbours can be painful sometimes.