Short Stories

On Writing

The Beginning

I started writing a long time ago; I don't remember when. The past, so often, gets crushed together making space for a massive present, until the difference between yesterday and today is as significant as that between 2010 and 2011. However, I remember I started writing fantasy.

My first story was an amalgamation of the Smurfs and the Mahabharata. Much later, after I read my first Potter book, the same work included a Hogwarts-esque world as well. In fact, for the best part of a year, I was hell-bent on improving J.K. Rowling's literature; it didn't live up to my expectations, and in a mad childish whim, I tried to do better. My protagonist - shamelessly given a European name 'Peter' and white skin - thus journeyed into a terrifying world through a nightmare.

Over time, I imagine my writing developed a slight flavour, as I experimented with Indian myth; most prominently with a Bheema-like figure called 'Veera'. What I read - mostly European and American fiction - still shaped my works strongly. I never completed any of these tales. They held my attention for a while, and during this period, I was devoted to them; then they slipped away.

The Steadfast Tin Soldier?

Ashwin's story began as a blog-post that became longer than anticipated. I promised myself it would end as a 10,000-word short-story; I later found it transforming into a novella, and finally into a 70,000-word novel. I never wished to publish the work. But when the story ended, leaving me friendless for a short while, I decided - why not?

'The Steadfast Tin Soldier?' is not as autobiographical as people say it is, but it isn't independent of its author. I put a considerable portion of myself into that book, and sold it to the market. At first, it felt strange that something as intensely personal as a story was being read by other people. Soon, like many others before me, I learned to distance myself from the tale. In a strange way, imagination shaped reality.

My first foray into a longer form of writing was thoroughly satisfying. I was happy inside that bubble of imagination, untroubled by the world outside. I could live the life of Ashwin - my protagonist - and struggle his struggles, but in a world created by me. So the struggles always had purpose; I found purpose through writing.

MR19

Here, I write about the book I never got published. Not yet, anyway. MR19 - which only my closest friends have read - is the story of a man who tries to understand the world as it changes. The story, a work in mythology and science-fiction, happens in the future - in a homogenized planet. I wrote MR19 in order to understand the world, to accept the changing zeitgeist. I found enlightenment in writing.

Writing is more about listening to a story, than about telling one. I imagine that I write better than I converse; that is only because, when I write, I am listening to the story alongside you. The story plays out with a mind of its own. I cannot begin to describe - this paradox is unintentional - the beauty of a scene unravelling itself to you for the first time.

Nobody Remembers Ram

I wrote my latest book in two months. I was possessed by the story; it did not let me sleep. I wrote from bed, at work, in the metro, at bars, in coffee-shops, when I was friends, when I was on a family-vacation, in trains, inside planes, while eating... I found peace in writing.

This is a story of a successful man who goes missing. People search for him. They discover a narrative of his experiences. By elevating the pleasures and torments of a fictional character, I have been able to placate my own self.

There is too much turbulence in the world outside. Frankly, I don't care much about people and places any more. Why should I be part of something I cannot control? Give me a paper and a pen.

The Booty Call

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at his shoes. There was a familiar vibration in his left-pocket. She cannot wait, he thought, unable to contain his grin. Her message on Whatsapp had been urgent. She had demanded his presence at once. ‘There’s no one else at home.’

He kissed the Hanuman locket he wore around his neck, and prayed for strength. This was his big debut. He had to impress her. ‘Calm down,’ he said to himself, trying to forget that she was three years older than him – clearly more experienced. He put his right hand into his jeans-pocket, and felt the edge of the sachets inside. Three small soft packets, one behind the other.

He thought about the time they had kissed a few days ago. His first ever kiss, after all these years. He hadn’t told her, of course. She couldn’t know that she was about to be his first woman. He took a deep breath and started up the stairs, right foot first.

He then recalled the strangest thing – his conversation with Ramesh, back in sixth standard:

They went together to the toilet, back in those days, as it gave them an opportunity to walk around the large playground, watch the basketball game and stay away from the classroom for a while longer. One evening, standing in front of the urinal, shaking off the last drops, Ramesh told him the strangest thing – “I went to the girls’ bathroom yesterday.”

“Oh. And? Nobody saw you?”

“It was empty,” Ramesh said. “Nobody was there. So I quickly went and looked.”

“What did you see inside?”

“No place to piss!”

He laughed at Ramesh’s stupidity. “They don’t stand and piss,” he told his friend. “Haven’t you seen any girls without their clothes? Haven’t you observed animals?!”

Ramesh said that he hadn’t. “The chapter they skipped is for people like you,” he said, annoyed. Then he told his friend everything he knew.

He was halfway up the stairs now. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it. The message read – ‘The door is unlocked. Push, and you are in.’ He jumped up the last three steps. Then he stopped and checked his phone again. He closed the browser tabs quickly, awkwardly the last two times. He then realized that everything he knew about intercourse was through pornography.

He was amused by the thought. Will it really be like that, he wondered. He closed the Wikipedia page on ‘Safe Sex’. Then straightening his shirt, he pushed at the door.

Last Night's Story

Monday happened.

Morning coffee rushed down my throat, my blue BMW X1 rushed me to office. I toyed with the iPhone in the backseat as Dharmender negotiated four-wheeled mindlessness. We passed the vast dusty fields, and massive concrete towers entered my view, for perhaps the thousandth time.

9.32 am: Hundreds of people were entering the many towers of India’s new-found middle-class prosperity. I smoothed my sleeve, and leapt out of the car, into their midst. Sharp-dressed men and beautiful women held my attention as we marched towards the elevators which would take us to our many offices, on some twenty-five different floors.

I stood in the elevator glancing at my watch, with last night’s half-written story still running in my head. We all glanced at our phones, and watches, and iPads, and shook our heads, and clicked our tongues. We were all late. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 14. 15... Once again, the silliness of not having a thirteenth floor registered on my mind, but I no longer found it funny – not after all these years. With a tinge of regret, I realized I could now recognize faces in the elevator, and possibly identify the companies for which they worked.

At each floor, short tempered people – high on caffeine – stumbled out of the elevator in a zombie-like trance, until at last, it was my turn. I took my mind off my protagonist, and focused on the world that surrounded me. I paced towards the swinging glass door and checked-in with my access key card.

“Good morning sir,” said the guard, standing up as I entered. The peons next to him rose from their seats as well.

As I approached my cabin, I was greeted with more smiles, and familiar ‘what’s up’s. I placed my laptop in the docking station, turned on the extended screen, called the cafeteria and drowned myself in coffee and emails. I answered a few calls, and expressed my displeasure at a report’s shoddy presentation.

I then picked up my diary and walked into my manager’s office. “Why are these sales figures dropping?” he asked me, pointing at an info-graphic. He was a heavily built man, whose life revolved around his job. In his worldview, his happiness was directly dependent on how content his manager was. By logical extension, he didn’t expect me to be happy unless he was satisfied. I wondered how the hero of my incomplete story would react in such a scenario.

There were a few more questions about meeting Q3 revenue targets and possible avenues to expand market-share. I had all the numbers at my fingertips, and threw them at him as soon as I knew where he was heading. The Q&A session resulted in nausea: as I exited the room, my head felt empty. I hadn’t felt this way since college, when I would load my brain with answers to questions which I knew would come up in tests, and flush my brain out completely during the exam, leaving nothing behind.

I went back to my cabin and took stock of everything. I thought of my origins and my rise through the ranks; I evaluated the coming years and looked at my seven figure Savings balance on Citi’s Internet Banking site. I then thought about the life which really awaited me. At that moment, last night’s story completed itself.

I needed to quit.

The nagging feeling had finally given itself dangerous form. I couldn't run away any more. This wasn't a random impulse; seven months of thought, debate and unresolved emotions had crystallized into an overpowering decision. There was, now, no turning back.

Opening the drawer, I pulled out the sheet I printed many weeks ago and scribbled my name on the dotted line.

I knocked on my manager's door again. He was just getting off the phone. "I'll call you later, darling," he was saying, as he took the phone off his ear.

"Have a seat," he told me.

"I'm not sure if this will come as a surprise to you," I said, taking a seat, "but I'd like to quit."

"What? Why?" he said, with his old, half-serious grin.

"I'm taking up writing. Much more seriously."

"You've written before, haven't you? Why quit when they can coexist?"

"I'm not doing it justice. What's the point of a spent man trying to pen two pages at ten p.m. every evening, and falling asleep over the keyboard? And spending the next day thinking about what he could've written, only for the same thing to repeat?"

"Think about the life ahead of you, man," he said. "Is the road not clear enough? Do you even understand what you're leaving behind?"

"I know what I'm leaving. But I think it's high time I complete last night's story."

"You are leaving mansions and power, and millions, for a career in penniless art. What's the ending of last night's story?"

"This," I said, and handed him the paper.

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