My son, the story-teller

I have a guest writer on my blog today. My four year old Aarush entered into a creative writing contest as his school. The following story came out as a result of it. It was 'dictated' to me by him since he cannot yet write. However, the title is his, the story idea is his and all the words are his as well. With a little bit of guidance from me and my wife, he was able to come up with this little tale. My only pre-condition for him was that the story should have a premise, a problem, a solution and a moral or lesson. He followed that structure (though he did seem a tad unconvinced by the ending, and you'll see why :))

As a father, I couldn't have been prouder to see the creative gene show some signs of emergence. And oh, purely incidental to this experience, he won the contest :)

 

The Boy And His Robot

by Aarush Pandya

There was a boy whose parents asked him to help around the house. He did not want to do the work himself. He built a robot to make his life easier. When the boy presses a button on the robot, the robot does the job that the picture on the button shows. For eg. If he presses the button that has a picture of toys, a sucker that is on the side of the robot sucks up all the toys and arranges them. But one time, the boy presses a button and the robot goes out of control. He makes all the things messy that he had made perfect. There is a special switch that the boy has to turn off to switch off the robot. The boy learned the lesson that he should not build another robot. He should do the work all by himself.

Housing Bubble

This is my third publication on the short fiction site One Forty Fiction. As always, the challenge there is to write a story in one forty characters with a distinct beginning, a middle and an end. My inspiration for this story was the stagnant price of my house after almost eight years; a situation many living through these times in America today might identify with.

http://www.onefortyfiction.com/archives/housing-bubble

Possessive Adjective

“My love is in the air”. “Yes, it’s Valentine’s day”, said her married friend; pity masking her hearing. The spinster left for the airport.

P.S> This is a story in 140 characters or less. If you know which possessive adjective is being referred to in the story, it'll all fall in place :)

The Elements

My poem, published in this issue of the Spark magazine. The theme for this month was Romance and the poem attempts to marry romance with the five elements. Read on.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=5253

An Epic Tragedy

"India scored 6 before Sachin came in and 4 after he got out. To score 17 runs was way beyond their ability." - Arunabha Sengupta, cricket writer.

Thus can be summarized the story of the lone warrior, in one his greatest epics, a tragedy in cricket that will always make you grimace when you think about it. Sachin Tendulkar, on 31st January, 1999 played one of the great knocks while chasing a target down single-handedly. The venue was Chennai and the opposition was Pakistan. The target was 271 and the bowling attack fairly strong. Wasim, Waqar, Saqlain and Afridi more than make a threat when you are chasing a target of this magnitude with so much pressure on you. Predictably, the other batsmen fell in a heap, with only Mongia managing to make more than 10 runs. Sach was life then. Tendulkar was the only man who could have taken India to victory and bit by bit, with brilliant strokes and dogged determination, he began doing that. His back was hurting and he had limited support at the other end, but he batted like losing wasn’t an option. He picked up the pace after his half century and was able to take all the bowlers apart, including Saqlain. And then it happened. The one shot that all Indians wish would undone. The leading edge that went to the offside and was caught. The heroic effort would end in a tragedy, for the others in the Indian team could not put together the requisite 17 runs. The lone action hero walked away to a standing ovation, but surely with a feeling that he left the job undone. When the awards ceremony was going on, he was inconsolably locked up in the dressing room. An innings such as this would have rivaled Lara’s 153* against Australia, but in some sense, the tragedy added a sheen to it that makes it more enduring. Indeed, his 103* against England at the same venue years later seems fulfilling, but not touching in the same way.

My personal tragedy was that despite watching most of the great innings by the little man, this is one that I could not see as it happened. I was appearing for the national level entrance examinations for NCST (National center for software technology), where we were supposed to answer a series of papers through the day. Lord knows my mind was nowhere near the questions I was supposed to answer. After every paper, in the interim break, I would rush out to a payphone, insert a coin and call home to ask the score. I remember walking back to the railway station with a bunch of folks, one of whom had a radio. Tendulkar had just departed and we were subjected to the ignominy of the Indian loss after that. Tragedy begets tragedy, and mine will be being relegated to watching one of Tendulkar’s greatest innings in Youtube videos.

Friday Fun(k)

My Friday Funk story: We were stalled at the traffic light. The car and I. I had one hand firmly placed on the steering wheel and the other on my forehead, covering the frowns as I was going through the list of things I needed to do at work today. The music rang on unaffected and unaffecting. Then, from the music system seeped out the song 'Main Pareshaan' (loose translation: 'I am worried'). The irony broke the reverie and cracked me up. Sometimes the uenxpected is required to turn funk into fun.

Across The Table

The Spark magazine turns three year old and the special occasion was marked by a Potpourri issue. I wrote up some super short fiction with a theme I had been toying for a while - Four different places, four different pairs of people – one common setting. Two chairs across a table and a solitary object between them. What happens next? Find out for yourself.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=5101

A Trip In Time

The theme of this month's Spark magazine was to interpret a picture - which had footprints on a sandy beach, any which way you want.

Now that I am in Mumbai, inspiration was not hard to find. Here's a poem on walking in one's own footsteps and discovering that the world isn't quite what you expect it to be.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=5008

Life's a Test

One of the highlights of this India trip so far has been my visit to Wankhede to see a day of test cricket. Here is my report from the day, published as an article in the Spark magazine.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4974

Vignettes

Here's my publication in this month's Spark magazine. The theme for the month was 'Life Online'. I put together a collection of very short stories; little vignettes that give glimpses of what internet can be and do in our lives. Read on.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4885

 

The Mystery Reader

My short story, published in this month's issue of the Spark magazine. The theme for the month was 'Inspiration'. What happens when an Indian housewife puts a lifetime of inspiration and aspiration to become a detective to practical use? Read on and find out.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4747

Navrasas

My publication in this month's Spark magazine, which had the theme of 'Navrasas'. (or the nine human emotions) A rasa (Sanskrit word for 'juice' or 'essence') is the primary feeling that is evoked in the person that views, reads or hears a work of art. My attempt has been to write a haiku for each rasa - each haiku is supposed to evoke the emotion that the rasa suggests. Let me know if it worked for you.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4541

The Dilemma of the IBCP (Indian Born Confused Parent)

My article, published in this month's issue of the Spark magazine. Their theme for the month was 'India Decoded'. I touch upon the phenomenon of the IBCP (Indian born confused parent), given I get to see a few of them in my current way of life, and it is a growing tribe :) Read on.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4396

Monsoon City

I am a Bombay Boy at heart and I love the monsoons. My article, published in this month's edition of the Spark magazine, touches upon both of these two loves together. Read on!

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=4076 

A new son-rise!

And then there were two … Another life changing event occurred in the shape of a small beautiful baby boy that my wife and I were blessed with. Nilay Parth Pandya made his appearance in this world with a mild annoyance in his face and tremendous lung power to demonstrate it. He has, however, decided that perhaps taking long naps isn't bad compensation for the light and sound fury around him.

Nilay means home or abode and he is completing our home in many ways. Big Brother Aarush led the welcoming celebrations with a shower of kisses and hugs and sweet words for the little one. He has always been a bhai in the house and now he gets to be Aarush bhai for real!

My poem, published in this month's issue of the Spark magazine. An eternal love story, or thereabout.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=3928

Incomplete

The canvas awaits,

While the brush dries up

The tip floundering on

To a morbid decay

Empty spaces paint

A taunting picture

Of a story well begun

But left unfinished

Horn, OK, Please!

Here's the other publication in Spark for the month. Their theme for the month was 'On the Road'. This is an image (drawn in the casual tone of a nursery rhyme) that depicts a typical cross road (I had India in mind when I wrote this). There are a lot of vignettes that a small cross road can bring through and that is my attempt here.

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=3757

A Ton Of Joy

For those who were wondering why there wasn't a grand outpouring on fanatic fandom on my blog after Tendulkar's 100th ton, here's the reason. Spark introduced a new section called Lounge (for articles not related to the theme of the month) and asked me to write a piece on it. Honored and Humbled. Warning: this is not a critical article. This is a response to the armchair critics from an armchair fan!

http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=3765

Rain In Spain

Sharing my publication on this site called 'One forty fiction'. The intent is to write a short story in, hold your breath, 140 characters. It is a fine challenge and I am happy to be published here. I can promise that this will be a quick read :)

http://www.onefortyfiction.com/archives/rain-in-spain