The Love Hate relationship with stories

There was a time when I used to write stories. They made me realize myself. I must admit that I was a part of almost all stories I wrote, love stories that is. Some were based on a leaf out of my own life or some were inspired from people I knew. There were people who loved it. And there were people who criticized it. But there were always people who read it.

I got carried away. I started writing because people read it. I wrote for the audience. I tried to sensationalise, materialize stories. I also thought of commercializing the stories by publishing a book. But then came a point when the whole world collapsed with a thud. My romance with love stories ended and sank without a trace. When I read some of the stories I wrote, I hated myself for trying to do what I shouldn’t have thought. It is that day and today, I’m still devoid of inspiration.

I hope it reverses some day. I hope it does very soon. I want to write stories again.

75: Acedia

This is story number 5 of the 7even series.

“Dinkar… look at that boy Sachin. He is only a couple of years older to you. But he has already made a début in the Indian national cricket team. You too are a good batsman Dina… I think you should work towards it.”

“I am Baba… even I’m a good batsman. I need not prove it time again.”

“I know Dina… I just want you to work hard towards it. Yesterday I met your coach Achrekar. He said you are always late to practice in the morning? Some times you skip it too. What is this?”

“Ah … he calls us at 5am. I cant wake up that early. Besides, dont worry… I’m still the number one batsman at my club.”

74: Gourmet Issues

This is story no. 4 from the Se7en series.

Warning: Long Story

“Ladies and Gentlemen! After successfully launching the WLL services, Timenet presents to you the future of computing. Please put your hands together to the next generation of grid computing, THE TIME WRAP!” Said Kedar Marathe, the Chief Architect of Time Net, and Indian company in the business of making software products for the network connectivity solutions and data centres. They had launched a new self developed cloud computing platform, first of its kind in the world.

As the Emperor Arena in Abu Dhabi burst into a loud applause, Micheal Casey banged his coffee mug on his table. The small watch in his wrists was reading 5am. He and his team mates had come early to their Palo Alto office especially to watch the webinar of Timenet’s 1.0 launch of their new grid computing platform, ‘Timewrap’.

71: The Nakshalbari

Preface: This is the first of the seven stories. Since they are based on deadly sins, it is likely that the stories will be sinful. If the readers don’t appreciate any of the stories, they can voice their opinion in the comments section. I will not be writing the topic (sin) on which the story is written. But leave it for the readers to guess. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The story is a work of fiction.

An elderly looking Protima rushed inside the small drawing room of the railway quarter on hearing a loud clang. It seemed some vessel had fallen off the dining table. But she was amazed to see that it was her son who had thrown a steel plate on the wall in front. He picked up another utensil and hurled it towards the plate. It banged on the wall with a loud clang before settling down on the floor below. He then picked up a spoon and was about to hurl it when Protima rushed to him.

“Shubo! Ki korbe…?” She said before snatching the spoon from his hand.

But Shubhojit did not look concerned. He was still staring at the plate and the utensil he threw. He just wanted to bang it hard… very hard. He remembered how hard they beat the ‘thalis’ when he had been to Midnapore. It was such a serene place, full of greenery, full of life and full of like minded people. And then he remembered about the chance meeting with the leader. Shubhojit touched his ears as he thought about him. They said taking his name was a crime. For Shubhojit, even thinking about him was a crime. It was Onir who had introduced him to the ‘kafila’ 3 months ago. After ‘the incident’ about an year ago, that was the only good thing happened to Shubhojit.

Not paying Any heed to his mother’s complaints, Shubhojit stepped out of the small yet cozy railway quarter and decided to take a walk down the busy road in Sealdah. It was only noon and he had to report to the office at around 4:30. He still had enough time for himself. But still he was all dressed up, all set to board the train. Chest pocket of his blue shirt bore his full name, Shubhojit Mondal. 

Z2: Sara

Please read the first part “Red & White” before reading further.

It had been raining since the night. Sarika had heard a lot about water logged roads and slippery tracks on the Valkyrie mountains. She insisted they take their own vehicle to the palin top where her classmates were planning to hike. But none agreed. They found it fun to go by the public transport and then climb up on the top, despite the rains. Sarika hated rains and all the filth it brought with it. Afterall, being born in a super rich family, she had all the luxuries at her door step. She was born with a golden spoon with diamonds studded all over. She could have studied in any school and university in the world. And yet her father had chosen to send her to the vedic high school just on the outskirts of the Jaisingpur. “You’ll learn life.” He had told her. And now she was about to learn travelling in a public transport, walk 3 miles and learn hiking in a heavy down pour. It was already making her sick.

Z1: Red & White

This is the first story in the ‘Z’ category. It will have seven parts. I request for patience and hope it is liked

The trumpet band was blowing in full force. On both sides of the street he could see people cheering up every ‘jhaki’ moving ahead. They had turned out in large numbers. Some of them were waving the Indian flag. It was a memorable day for Aravinda. He had never watched a republic day parade ever in his life. He remembered how much his father wanted him to and how he gave it a miss every year on 26th January. It was a national holiday and he always believed in using it to play cricket the whole day with his friends. He never thought one day he will be walking down this road himself, taking the guard of honour and a medal from the president. It was a day ‘vinda’ was never to forget.

New Brand of Stories

20 love stories and I feel I have done enough justice to the ‘romantic’ me. It is not time to explore the ‘story teller’ me. So I’m starting a new brand of stories under category, err… well it goes uncharacterised. Because there are so many varied ideas inside my brain. It is difficult to exactly name the genre. Plus the stories will be complex and not necessarily short.

Anyway, so as a result I’m going to prefix the stories with ‘Z’ and they will be classified under ‘story time’. First story coming up shortly. I hope you like it.    :-)

L39: Call

Please read the part 1: Twilight and part 2: Twilight Continues before you proceed.

Ashish was walking briskly towards the terminus building as the memories flooded in front of his eyes. It was only 2 months since he knew Ashita and they had come so close to each other. Every day he observed her board the bus in the evening looking dejected, tired and lost. Being a bus conductor, it was a part of his job to talk to strangers and observe them briefly. And yet it wasn’t a part of his job to befriend his co-passengers and stare at one of them. It was not a part of his job to love a passenger and do favors to her… and it was also not a part of his profile to walk to the morgue.

Ashish’s and Ashita’s relationship had been one strange affair. “I swear I never looked at you… ever. But then I dont know what happened that day. I just couldn’t divert my mind off it.” she had told him on the day they went to the Worli sea face.

“And why did you not observe me? I see lot of passengers every day. But I remembered you. You only see one conductor and you still ignore him. Not done Ashi.”

“Oh did I ignore you? Well… may be I did. (chuckled) after all, who would want to look at a conductor?”

“Is it? And who am I now? Not a conductor?”

“Let me check… ummm… no you are not a conductor. You are one dumb guy sitting here with me on the sea face and not allowing me to go home on a working day.” and she would laugh loudly… so loud that every one around could hear her voice even with the sea roaring in the background.

L37: Twilight

This story was in my mind for long time. But the mood and schedule delayed it. So you might find this story a bit patchy and disjointed.

Image Courtesy: Mayur Pathak

Ashi was finding it difficult to pace herself amongst the heavy crowd in front of her. It was 6:20 already and she had to get to the Worli bus stop in the next 5 minutes. On any other day, she would be sitting in the bus by now. But the conversation with Neil took that little extra time. Neil was her ex. colleague and supposedly a good friend. But today he made no attempt in hiding what he felt about Ashi.

“You are a vampire Ashi…” He had said. “You scare people away, do you know that?” … “Come out of that shell or you will never find a boy friend.”…

“But I dont want to find a boy friend!” retaliated Ashi.

“Keep telling that to yourself you gloomy face. You make others sad. And that gives others with no choice but to desert you.” …

“Shut up Neil!” …

“That is true Ashi. You either need to cheer up or get lost.”

“You get lost Neil!”

An average looking, shy and extremely modest girl, Ashi was some one who could go unnoticed even in a sparse crowd. With no fancy family background to back her, she was one of those who were amongst the first ones to hide in the crowd. And the fact was being evidenced by the way the people were shoving and moving in front of her. Not paying any heed to her urgency. She had a bus to catch, number 70Exp from Worli to Mira Road (E)… or from office to home. Most of the people who stayed at far off places preferred to travel by train. But she preferred a bus for the obvious reason… the crowd. And since she was late today, she had lost out on a seat. The bus was already full and ready to leave. Although there was a burly looking man sitting on a ‘ladies’ seat, she neither had the courage or the willingness to ask him to get up. She was just too tired and too much within self to ask him to get up.

“Can you get up? Please allow ladies to sit on the seats reserved for them.” A voice from behind broke her attention. “Basa Madam… have a seat. Aaj late?” The man asked while gesturing her to sit.

“Sorry?” Ashi was a bit baffled both at getting a seat and at the conductor of the bus asking her why she was late today. It was strange for him to ask and to recognise her as well. “Yeah… a bit late. Lot of work in the bank… by the way thanks.”

“Oh dont worry, I just gave you your seat.” He said as the bus chugged from the Nehru Planetarium bus stop.

It was indeed strange for Ashi to get recognised by a stranger. She had been travelling on this route for over an year and by this bus since the day it started. But never did she remember the face of any conductor or even a fellow passenger. It was no surprise since she got a similar treatment from others as well. Had Neil been here, she thought. So what if he was a conductor, some one… at least some one remembered her face.

The conductor got busy managing the passenger tickets and stops as the bus made its way on the approach road of the Bandra Worli Sea Link. Ashi gave a passing look to the guy who just recognised her, a skinny young boy with wheatish complexion and average but cheerful looks. She was surprised by his agility and responsiveness despite the fact that he must have put a hard day’s work, all standing in that bus filled to the brim. She glanced at the setting sun as the bus made its way to the sea link. It was early June and the sun was making its way back to the depot. The whole skyline on the Arabian sea was painted Orange. The shiny, simmering sun was making its presence felt even on the glass of the air conditioned bus… and then on to Ashi’s face. It was twilight, the time she loved most. Since her childhood, she always waited for this time in the rainy season, when the sunlight turned golden. She believed it brought her good luck. She glanced back at the conductor as the bus now pass through the Bandra reclamation area. He was still busy manning the crowd, issuing tickets, politely returning the 100/500 rupee notes and glancing back at her once in a while. She wondered if it was his chivalry or was it the good luck twilight brought to her. Whatever it was, it sure kept her busy during the rest of the one and half hour journey to Dahisar Check Naka.

The bus was now sparsely populated and well lit as the darkness had fallen outside. Its destination was now near. Between the songs on the listless radio channels, innumerable people getting in and out of the bus, thousands of vehicles battling for survival on the western express highways and the occasional glances by a man now recognisable, Ashi had had a good journey tonight. Although the conductor never spoke to her again, Ashi was beginning to get a bit nervous as her stop neared. There have been many men she had thought about and many she dreamt about. She wrote off many on her own and the rest never ever paid any heed to her presence. She was not used to attention by a stranger. And that is what made her nervous. As the golden nest bus stop approached, she wondered if the conductor will say some thing to her. Sadly, he didn’t!

Drizzle had already started as Ashi made her way out of the bus. As the water drops started piercing every part of her body, she watched the bus move away from her. She stood there as the blinking orange light from the bus’s right indicator faded. It reminded of the twilight some time back. Did it not bring her any luck? Oh he was just a conductor… she thought. Why should I be worried about some passing guy who gives away tickets in the bus? And she started her routine walk back to her apartment, completely forgetting the falling rain drops who were trying to remind her of the umbrella in her back pack.

To be continued…

L36: White Noise II

Please read part I: L35: White Noise here.

“… and he called me late on the same night. All he said was congratulations. I tried telling him how difficult it was to decide for me. In fact I was not even aware. Dad had met Rohit’s family and instantly knew he was the guy. I hardly got a chance to do any thing. We met once and thats it. It was done!” Bani was now looking sullen and a bit more worried.

“Okay… hmmm, go on!”

“Yogi has been behaving very weird lately, you know. There was a time when we used to talk twice a day and there is a time now when we hardly talk. And that too when I call. He seldom calls. And on all the calls we hardly have a decent conversation. I think he has become very restless since the time I got engaged. Its almost 2 months Amit!”

“You got engaged 2 months ago? And you are telling me now? How are you going to explain that Bani? This is sad… SAD!”

“It was just a rokka Amit, and any way thats not the point. The point is Yogi… and me”

“Hmmm… alright I get it. So may be Yogi loved you silently. And he is not able to accept the fact that you are now going to marry some one else. And now you dont know how to handle this situation, right?”

“Some thing like that. But…”

“No if, no but! Only Amit! … Well sorry that doesn’t exactly rhyme, but who cares? Dont you worry. Meet Yogi once and tell him exactly how you feel when he behaves so weird. Tell him now you are going to be married and he has to accept that. He must know that nothing can be there between you guys. Nothing ever was, so no point of him being hung on you. I think he will understand. If he doesn’t, tell me. I’ll talk to him.”