Cured - A Short Story
It’s short story season on PFC. This is something that I had written about a decade ago. I haven’t changed it much before posting here. Dabba - thanks for showing us the way here. Anyway, let me know your views on this.
I remember everything about that evening. Yet, it doesn’t feel like it happened yesterday. The truth is it never feels like it happened yesterday. It’s always a long time ago.
I stepped out of Konark Talkies midway through Banjaran. How many ‘punar-janam’ stories could I take? With or without Sridevi. The narrow wicker gate at the back was my getaway. I couldn’t afford being caught another time. I went past the fountains. They had been the pride of Konark Talkies. Now they worked only once a year on Independence Day. The rest of the year they were receptacles of the eager male fountains. As I stepped out, I noticed somebody had scribbled ‘Hindu Jaagega To Desh Jaagega – Bajrangi Sena’ on the boundary wall. I took the dirt track through the chhota jungle to my way home.
There was a small crowd milling outside Mr. Sarkar’s (no Uncle Sarkar for him) house. Intrigued, I went past the jamun tree and got into the house. Surprisingly, no one stopped me till I reached the doorstep. I peered in and saw her. Dead. She lay there with a never-before-seen serenity on her face. Mr. Sarkar sat there staring blankly at the fan. He had brought her body down from the fan where it had remained hanged for over three hours. Eighteen years were all she took to complete her circle of life. I stood there transfixed. I had never seen a corpse before.
Mr. Sarkar had always been paranoid.
“Mahapatra Babu, these buildings are dangerous. Structural problems.”
“No, I am telling you. I am quite sure that the fan in my drawing room will come down.”
“Nothing moves with that Patwardhan in the Maintenance department. He won’t replace the fan even if it falls on me.”
Mr. Sarkar was the original secular fundamentalist.
“Mahapatra Babu, where will all this Janmabhoomi business lead us? Another partition?
“What’s the difference really between us and them? Same blood.
“These Sangh people are back in business. That Patwardhan has been calling kids to his morning exercises. But he won’t replace the fan even if it falls on me.”
Mr. Sarkar was always well informed.
“Mahapatra Babu, I saw Babla outside Konark again yesterday. Adult movie.”
“They have taken Vengsarkar for the Australian tour. We’ll lose anyway.”
“Department is doing an investigation on him. Don’t quote me but I know he’s been stealing copper wire in his flask. But that Patwardhan gets away always. And he won’t replace the fan even if it falls on me. Anyway, it’s winter now.”
To me none of the above mattered. What mattered was his garage. A box-like structure, a little away from his home which housed his Padmini. He took it out twice – during Puja and on his marriage anniversary. The garage wall served as our stumps in cricket matches. We drew the three vertical lines on them with a brick. Or used it as scorecard. Mr. Sarkar didn’t mind at all.
She wasn’t beautiful. Attractive, yes, in a physical way. A girl too late or a woman too early. She was older of the three Sarkar girls. Government (Sarkar) Bombs, as they were referred to in our teenage code. She had been sent off to Calcutta for her B.A. (History) course in July. We received regular updates from Mr. Sarkar.
“Mahapatra Babu, she’s staying with my sister at Kidderpore. BES College isn’t that far from there.”
“I think a B.Ed is the best thing to do after graduation. Teaching ‘line’ is good.”
“I don’t send her much money. Just five hundred rupees or so. Otherwise like that Patwardhan’s daughter she will come back here wearing jean pants. Of course, Patwardhan has no time to replace the fan even if it falls on me.”
She came back abruptly one early November evening. I saw her as I rode my cycle to school one morning. I waved at her. She waved back. I noticed she wasn’t a girl too late any longer. She was a woman.
She hardly spoke at home in her first few days. That she walked a bit differently didn’t escape her mother. One day she caught her smiling at a J&J Baby Powder ad in India Today. And one afternoon, after Mr. Sarkar had driven off in his Lamby to the factory, she told her mother about him. His name was Rafiq and he was a mechanic in Kidderpore. The poor mother could hardly hear anything after.
None of the lights were turned on when Mr. Sarkar came back in the evening. He thought the fuse had blown off again. Once he got in, it was he who blew his fuse. The Padmini came out the next day. Chandanpur was forty five kilometers away. Mr. Sarkar drove directly to the NAD clinic. The doctor examined her and suggested a date two weeks later to set things right. It couldn’t be done now.
The winter was starting to set in. Day got short, tempers shorter. Mr. Sarkar hardly spoke at home. Or outside.
“Mahapatra Babu, the price of onions has gone up again.”
“No, I’ll walk today.”
“Don’t really care about Patwardhan.”
The ‘STD ISD XEROX’ guy later remembered her as the girl who came that afternoon to make a call to Calcutta. She was in tears when she got out of the booth. The junior ‘Government Bombs’ were at school then. Her mother had gone to the weekly meeting of the Ladies’ Club vocation committee. It was then she tested the fan for her weight. Her body gave away, the fan didn’t.
Mr. Sarkar didn’t speak about his fan ever again. Or mentioned Patwardhan. The next evening as we headed towards the garage with bat and ball we noticed a large scrawl in red across the garage wall. It read ‘Garv Se Kaho Hum Hindu Hai – Ram Sainik Manch.” Mr. Sarkar never allowed us to use his garage again as stumps. And I didn’t hear him speaking of ‘same blood’ again. While he was cured of one paranoia, he had developed another.
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Subrat!
Happy happy happy.
I am loving this short ishtory bijiness…….
liked the flow and Oriya feel. [ Gopinath Mohanty?]
“Same blood” !!
wah! yahan to sab log writer hain
This story should be in hindi!
Don’t know why I feel that.
when did PFC became eastoftheweb.
If you guys want write stories do submit else where. Or write in your blog.
Let PFC be a platform for cinema!
@stranger : These are stories FOR cinema, one needs good stories na…..this is the story bank.
Subrat,
but I liked the story
So you had your tongue firmly in cheek even ek dashak pehle.
The story is very local in flavor (it felt quite RK Narayan to me, rather comfortingly). Good for some bad for some, but good that it is untainted and retains its world view.
There is something simple about the story which drew me in. You have also been very subtle about the reason for he coming back. And was naming only one character deliberate? Finally, early nineties story, autobiographical?
@stranger
u read the title man. it explained everything. nobody is forcing u to read the story. u r free to ignore it if u deem it unfit to be read.
@subrat
nice work man. keep them coming….
Nice story man.
Just 2 cents…
I guess the beauty of a short story lies as much in the ending as in the way it has been written.
You have written the piece beautifully (I like the alternate past-present thing). But the end is known before hand and the reader is not left waiting for anything.
Nevertheless, beautifully written.
And for Stranger: some time you might find this in Dus Kananiyan part 2 or something like that.
Wah..Subrat..Hamare Dr. Sarkar ke bhi do betiyaan thi..aur kahani kuch aisa hi tha..Uncanny!!!
Very good short! More power to your keyboard!!
=d>=d>
(:|(:|(:|(:|(:|(:|(:|(:|
K3 - long ishtories are also there but some other time. Gopinath Mohanty - yes, same blood (and surname) for sure.
Btw, what did you pick up at Chesil beach?
@Neeraja - in Hindi? any specific reason?
@stranger: I was wary of this reaction. Did ask a few PFC authors before putting this. Don’t worry I will stick to cinema most of the time. Glad that you liked the story
@Tushar - Ek dashak pahle tongue was more firmly in cheek than now.
etj - yeah, thanks for pointing that out. Naming just one character was deliberate. Early nineties story, autobiographical indeed! Also, wanted to bring out shallowness of the idea of secularism that many carried/ or still carry.
KJ - more stories some other time
Shreyash: will work on the feedback. Though not all short stories need a twist in the tale. This one had a different type of twist
Indraneel - Dr. Sarkar aur similar story?? kahan pe bhai?
T! - Guilty of not providing translations but I guess you are a pro now. Appreciate the feedback
@Mark: brevity is the soul of feedback and you nailed it. Anything more that you can add will help.
Subrat, though you wrote the story a decade ago its still very contemporary.
How come our filmmakers don’t touch such inter-religious romances.This happens so often in real life,remember the Rizwan case?
Story season at PFC?
It has made things interesting here,need a few more stories.After all,a lot of movies are based on shorts…..remember ‘Brokeback Mountain’.
Kavita, need one from you now.
Pepper it with your trademark wit and dark sense of humour.
Waiting….
I was reading the story,
feeling like Watching old Black & White (Good Old) Hindi Cinema.,
@Subrat
Let me think why?
Other than the fact that the very soul of the story is Indian, when I was reading Mr. Sarkar’s dialogues with Mahapatra babu, I was reading in English and thinking in Hindi.
Felt like I was reading a translation of a Hindi story (Hindi because that’s the only Indian language I read stories in)
Last vacation at home, I was reading short stories by this famous hindi writer (yaar! naam yaad nahi aa raha hai. ‘Mughlon ne saltanat baksh di’ is one his famous short stories. Kisi ko naam yaad ho bataye please). I found your style of storytelling similar to his.
By the way, did I say I liked the story (Do I need to after what I wrote above?)
:(( I miss reading Hindi :((
hi neerja.. aapki hindi waali baat ne Gulzar saab ki ek kavita yaad dila di..
Original Title - Kitaabein
From book - Raat Pashmeene Ki -
Kitaabein jhaankti hain band almaari ke sheeshon se
badi hasrat se takti hain
mahino ab mulakaatein nahin hoti
jo shaamein inki sohbat mein kata karti thi
ab aksar
gujar jaati hai computer ke parde par
badi baichen rehti hain kitaabein
inhein ab neend me chalne ki aadat ho gayee hai
badi hasrat se takti hain
Jo kadrein wo sunaati theen
ki jin ke Cell kabhi marte nahin the
wo kadrein ab nazar aati nahin ghar mein
jo rishte sunati theen
woh saare udhade udhade hain
koi safahaa palat-ta hoon to is siski nikalti hai
kai lafzon ke maane gir pade hain
bina patton ke sookhe tund lagte hain wo sab alfaaz
jin par ab koi maane nahin ugte
bahut si istalaahein hain
jo mitti ki sikoron ki tarah bikhri padee hain
gilaason ne unhein matrook kar daala
zubaan par jaaika aata tha jo safahe palatane ka
ab unglee click karne se bas ik
jhapkee gujarti hai
bahut kuchh tah-b-tah khulta chala jaata hai parde par
Kitaabo se jo jaati raabta tha, kat gaya hai
kabhi seene pe rakh ke let jaate the
kabhi godi mein le lete
kabhi ghutno ko apne rihal ki surat bana kar
neem sajde mein padha karte the, chhote the zabeen se
wo saara ilm to milta rahega baad mein bhi
magar wo jo kitaabo mein mila karte the sookhe phool
aur mahke hue rukke
kitaabe mangne, girne, uthane ke bahaane rishte bante the
unka kya hoga
wo shayad ab nahin honge
“kai lafzon ke maane gir pade hain
bina patton ke sookhe tund lagte hain wo sab alfaaz”
=d>=d>
nice poem. thanks you for this.
Neeraja@23: Hindi literature!! How I miss it. I might be confusing things here but I Mughalon Ne Sultanat Baksh di was I think written by Bhagwati Charan Verma. Along with Bedhab Banarasi, he was one of the finest humour writers in Hindi in the last century.
Good One Subrat ….=d>=d>=d>
neat,nice.simple.complex. and thank god,i didnt hav to open a dictionary to read it. may be cz it was written ten years ago.
Mohapatra babu reminded me of a book..best oriya short stories..was given to me by a dear freind. hav lost him but still hav the book.
a governemnt bomb suddenly vanished from our colony one day. was too young at that time. never knew the reason..whenever i would ask why n how…was given some or other excuse. realised much later that she was killed by her parents cz she was pregnant. they mixed something in the food and the body was disposed off in a nearby village.
@Subrat
You are right, but, Bhagwaticharan Verma didn’t do only humour.
Talking of humour in hindi, have you read Harishankar Parsai?
Bedhab Banarasi is great! I think his ‘Pigson ki diary’ was my first hindi literature book outside school syllabus and short stories.
@ subrat -
read ur story thrice. these are my thoughts, general and specific in no particular order -
there is too much of one morning, afternooon, evening. day part details that don’t affect the story in any way. lose it.
while u were going for an emotional/ideological twist of sorts, the repetition of the fan holding the weight was getting annoying. did not work.
dialogues sound stilted. there are jumps in conversation that do not flow. it may be an attempt by the character to change topics once, but it happens several times. in the end u have three dialogues that i am guessing are not necessarily exchanges but a sampling of what was going on and the father not responding…not clear. and jarring.
I have been thinking about the challenge i am facing writing english dialogues for indian characters in my short stories… there is a need to make it sound authentic, hence the stress on verisimilitude. but that shit is boring. i like to write stylized dialogue that sounds snappy and SIMULATES a real conversation as opposed to mimicking it. Because WE don’t have a tradition of people making banter (or bantering) in english in either literature or movies ( i know there’s seth and rushdie etc., etc… but i haven’t read any of them), these characters sound uninteresting. while the verbal ticks of indian english are down pat, it lacks character.
in my short story, i had 2 lines of dialogue and the Ammi’s response which was in telugu… i wrote 20 different versions of that one line. i was going for an acerbic tongue with wit, but it seemed so forced. especially since she was not the main character and i had no way of expounding on that character to justify her colorful dialogue. i don’t know the way around it.
any suggestions will be gladly taken.
your writing is fluid, and good. i won’t dwell on that. there’s only so man blowJays i can give in a day.
the story lacked something. i will be accused of being a structuralist, but all the well painted details of the movie theater in the beginning don’t affect the story in any way. if u took out the first para, nothing in our ability to understand the story will change. unless u were going for a connection between punar janam and the death of the girl, but u didn’t close that loop.
so now it just comes across as a pop culture riff steeped in nostalgia.
and final thoughts… who is the protagonist? the boy or Sarkar? Sarkar is the one that changes. his daughter commits suicide, and he becomes a hindutvavadi. it is his story. babla has no place here. he may be an observer, but you may as well have used an omniscient third person pov, instead of the boy’s (Babla?) pov thus reducing one character. or make the dead girl the protagonist. Babla was a poor choice.
10 years ago… not bad. What would YOU do differently today?
@daaba…m very scared. the way u hav dissected. it. does that mean story telling is also mathematics…putting the right formulas at the right place. if i dont do the right things with right pov with right protagonist, cant it be intersting. seriously…would like to know. do u have set of dos n donts and things that u cross-check after u hav written something.
Dabba @ 30: Response
“there is too much of one morning, afternooon, evening. day part details that don
@ subrat -
my apologies on the dialogue part. i thought it seeemed way too disjointed…makes sense. they were just snatches of conversation that babla heard. perhaps, you could have had a line to clrify that or not. your choice. i didn’t get it. i’m certain a lot of other people did.
my jaws hurt. after i get a massage, i will be more than willing to service you on the next story.
as part of a larger series (or a chapter from a novel), your choices on pov, and babla etc make sense. but u didn’t tell us that did you? as a stand alone story, i still hold that it doesn’t work.
can you recommedn one foreign author i shoulod read? i tried marquez, and his prose is stultifyingly boring to me. that’s the problem i have had with seth and marquez, etc etc., they write with too much of a classiccal literary style that i find boring.
i’m looking for someone that has beeen able to translate Vonnegaut’s style. do you know any foreign authors that write like that?
the characters i create usually speak in a distinct flavor without seeming false or against their nature. i’m having trouble doing that when i set the story in a middle class indian household andd have a house wife. in an alternate world, or in our world, there are people that speak with trenchant wit. But we have not been exposed to these characters. combine that with writing in english, and that is a big chasm to cross.
need to figure out a way around this. are there any indian writers of sci-fi/fantasy?
@ Pnu -
i don’t have a list of dos but i have many don’ts. mostly from screenwriting. frigid was my first short story and i have only been writing screenplays for 4 years. also, i am not a very literary person, not having read too much fiction.
so i have to consciously think, and construct the drama. for every situation i think about who the most dramatic protagonist would be, the one that will change the most, and use that pov. i am hoping that as i continue doing this, after another 5 years or so it will become second nature to me and i won’t have to construct it. that is just the way i will write hopefully. but for now, every scene i ask myself why it is there, who’s doing what and do i have the right people to squeeze the drama out of the set up.
let me give u an example from Frigid. When i started thinking about it, the story was about a 12-13 year old BOY afraid of his refrigerator. It was going to be a straight up horror/scifi story including the bit about MOrse Code, but it was more sinister, but had a happy ending. I am a guy and i can write about what a boy thinks or feels during adolesence. Familiarity combined with laziness made me choose that protagonist.
Before i started writing, i asked myself what if it was a 12-13 year old girl? I knew immediately that it would be a more poignant coming of age tale, and that i would give her the first period, and also add the whole sexual dimension to it. i think the story has more going for it becasue of that. i can bring in the sex life of the parents/their separation etc., and it ties in to the story more because it is about the awakening of her sexual desires… etc etc.
Had it been a boy, it would have been a very different story, yet that was my first choice. I have no faith in my instincts, and go about it through a logical process of selection and elimination. This is what works for me. YOu may have an entirely different way of working.
But there’s a certain pleasure as both reader and writer, when everything connects organically and does not seem contrived.
still trying to find my way around it, but analysing others’ stories teaches me a lot. I always ask myself, who would have been the best choice for that scene or idea?
good luck.
@dabba…thnx a ton. do continue…whenvr u can.
Nice Story =d>=d>=d>
Stratumseind Miller Time Cafe…
Why do I think about drinking Dr. Pepper (23 ingredients in each can!) when I see commercials for this movie? Everyone knows I Do The Dew!…