The Story of Abhinav

Abhinav was seventeen years old, and wished he was older. Not just because he had exams the next day, but more so because there was yet another wedding that he had to attend in the near future. Attending weddings had been a way of life he had resigned himself to. His parents found it important and necessary to keep in touch with the rest of the country's inhabitants.In that respect,a clear disgrace to his ancestors, Abhinvav's phone book contained just five entries, which did no justice to the phone's capabilities, and much to reclusive nature.

What he liked most about the weddings, besides the happy endings (in more than one sense) was the train journey. He didn't care as much about capturing the window seat as he used to , but eavesdropping on his co passengers'adventurous lifestyle kept him occupied, and entertained. The thing that that he dreaded the most about weddings, ofcourse was having to wear a dhoti. Ofcourse it wasn't absolutely unnecesary, but not wearing one would invite perfectly unnecessary questions for the rest of the day. So he decided to battle the dhoti instead of relatives. A bad decision.

Dhoti, an innocuous looking piece of cloth, which looks so innocent when neatly folded and kept inside the bureau rises to its adventurous worst when you are in the spotlight. Not one to have a submissive nature, it will make repeated, and mostly succesful attempts to assert its independence. Forgetting to bring along a belt merely increases its success rate tenfold.

Abhinav had commited the cardinal sin. He'd forgotten the belt. Now his day was doomed. Much of it was spent coaxing the dhoti to heed to his requests (as opposed to demands he could place upon it when he had the belt to rely on) and listenings to relatives' discourses on advantages on dhotis over trousers. Abhinav of course was strongly opinionated about this issue, but was outnumbered.

His trips to weddings has not always been this depressing . There infact was a time, not very long back when he would go to these weddings clad in his ever-reliable and friendly tshirt - jeans combo . This blissful state of affairs was rudely put to an end. The day was clearly etched in his mind. It was his irritating cousin Vignesh's wedding, and at bedtime, due to a shortage a blankets,he had innocently asked his father "Can I use this bedsheet ?" pointing his finger towards what his father identified to be his precious grand Dhoti. His father was outraged. He was disappointed at the way he had brought up his son.He himself had allowed Abhinav to run amok . Much damamge had been done, and his son needed cultural education, he decided . And thus began, Abhinav's arduous journey towards dhoti-dom.

Life, while occasionally subjecting one to circumstances in which one is forced to pursue goals clearly outside one's interests, also gives you an opportunity to escape from it , after which, the original dreary existence that one earlier led is elevated to a state of euphoria. And such an opportunity was what awaited Abhinav. It was his favoutite cousin Sridhar's wedding . And he had not even forgotten to take the belt along . Could life get any better ? Yes, it apparently could , for in the midst of the family get together preceding the wedding, Abhinav's grandfather entered wearing a T shirt and trousers ! Abhinav's father was shocked. His relatives were shocked. The priest was shocked. Abhinav was excited .

Upon being asked tactful questions in regard to his attire, he simply answered "Why ?!! simply because I like it and find it comfortable. Dhoti is passe. ' Abhinav's gradfather had not alway been this bindaas. Only a few years back, he had fussed over ridiculously trivial things at a wedding . What could possibly have caused the transformation into this easygoing t-shirt clad octogenarian ?!When pressed further, all they got was a naughy twinkle in the eye and ' Oh thats a long story ! I'll tell you some other day' .Which was followed by ' Poor boy !! Why is he being tortured into wearing that thing ? Let him be , I say ! ' . This promptly elicited a resigned look on his father's face, and loud exclamations of approval from Abhinav . Could life get any better for Ahinav ?! Perhaps not, but we shall know for sure only in due course .

The story of Dinesh and Tingu

Note - Not a story really . Just a day in the life of Dinesh and Tingu :-)

Dinesh finished his lunch quickly and rushed back to his room to study for the math test the next day . He glanced at his study desk. It was littered with a cornucopia of debris. Indeed it seemed like you could could find practically anything you wanted if you spent sufficient time rummaging through it . He decided it was time to throw out the junk and was wondering where to start when he heard a noise and turned back to look. And gave a look of surprise. It was Tingu. Indeed, their combined presence in the room would have been a remarkable coincidence had it not been for the fact they shared the room. Tingu and Dinesh were brothers. The curious reader this point would hasten to ask ' Why don't they have rhymey names like so many brothers do- say dinesh and ramesh? . Or atleast reasonably similar ones? Dinesh and Tingu seem so disparate ! '. We will delve into that question another day .

Dinesh was in a state of panic ' Do you know where you standing?!!' , he yelled.
Tingu was nonchalant . ' In this fast paced world, no one knows their location. Heisenberg's principle', he said. Dinesh replied with ' No. You idiot ! I meant..' .

Hardly had he uttered these words before a pile of books landed on Tingu's head from the almirah above. Tingu was no longer nonchalant. It was his turn . 'You idiot ! Why don't you collect all your junk , and exhibit them in one place, say your table? sheesh !! ' and he continued for five more minutes along the same lines, which was followed by a lively wrestling session, until one of them realised the impending doom - the monster called math test that needed to be attended to .

Dinesh said 'You just wait. Let the math test get over. And then I'll spend time on you.And your bones.Your days are numbered. ' Tingu replied with something along the same lines. Ofcourse the book collection that adorned the floor now had to be cleared away . Both of them gave accusatory glances at the other, hoping to intimidate the other into taking the initiative . Finally they mutually agreed on temporary peace, and started putting away the books .Then Tingu said- ' In ten minutes, I would have made my way through all these books, and doubt if i'll still pass the test !'

The story of Ramya

Ramya was eight years old, and wanted to be a princess. One might think that it isn't really a faesible carreer in an adult world, but thankfully children don't seem to worry about such inconsequential details. Of course, she owned a crown that she called her own, and was mighty possesive of it. She was a shy girl, and not given to yelling at others in public. But when on stage, her shy demeanour, gave way to an entirely different person - one who was completely uninhibited, and let herself go with gay abandon.

The annual day celebrations at her school were drawing near, and Ramya showed an immediate interest and enthusiasm for participating in a play, as soon as her teacher had made an announcement. There was no princess in the plot, so she had to settle for the role of the 'fairy'. She did manage to persuade her teacher to squeeze in a crown, in addition to the mandatory wand. She would do magic ! And cast a spell ! That felt good !

It was the day of the show. Her mother and teachers got her ready for the show, and the children headed backstage, Her wand ! Where was it ? She began to panic, and then immediately realized that it had to be in the third floor, in her classroom, where she had left her bag. She headed for the stairs, and then for once, yielded to tempation. There it was - the elevator . The students were strictly prohibited from using it . Fairies participating in annual day clelebrations had to be exempted from this rule, she decided.

A parent had just got into the elevator,and noticing Ramya, held out the door open for her. Ramya smiled brightly and got in. The well dressed gentlemen shut the door. He looked at Ramya with a twinkle in his eye;the appropriately cherubic faced girl playing the role of a fairy, and asked her "And how high up would you be going, little girl?"

The story of Tanay

Note : Jusht like that, I've decided to start a new series called 'The story of ...'. These may not be stories in themselves, maybe just random ramblings. I've decided to start with one on children, coz they are so alive and natural . . .

Tanay was seven years old- Three full years older than his brother Tarun, and atleast four and a half inches taller. Tanay was interested in pretty much everything a boy his age would find exciting - superman, tigers, aeroplanes,indoor cricket,tri-cycling( He was begininng to outgrow that however) But more than all these, he was curious about talking trees. Of course he hadn't yet seen one yet, but that was because they roamed the streets only past midnight(as his father told him), and he had to get to bed by nine. Infact he'd seen them in a movie(They had helped win a battle), and knew that they were called 'Ents' . He would announce - "Once I grow up, I will write an ent-cyclopaedia." He would often ask his mother - 'Do ents talk faster than parrots?', and invariably his mother would reply saying that ents and parrots were not friends, and it wasn't easy to catch them in conversation. Incredibly, this answer satisfied Tanay, and also explains why Tanay disliked parrots.

But more than even ents, Tanay loved drawing. Of course he spent a considerable amount of time drawing ents. He also liked to draw clouds , but only in a particular shade of green. This tendency mystified his art teacher, who often corrected his cloud colour. Tanay, of course did not enjoy these instrusions into his private world , and would draw the rain pink just to get even. He would often gaze at the clouds slowly flying past his terrace, and wonder why they didn't travel by planes . He himself always grew impatient while travelling. and worse, his father grew impatient whenever he asked him ' Are we there yet?' . His father would then ask him to count upto 1000, which explains why Tanay disliked maths almost as much as he disliked parrots.

It was twenty third of june 1988, a Thursday. The clock struck four. Tanay had returned from school and his gradma was taking a nap. Tanay started to draw. He liked sketch pens of course for their bright shades, but they always seemed to run out of ink just when he found himself lost in drawing. He'd tried sauce of course, but the colour grew dull once it dried. So he liked crayons. And he began to draw a picture of a cloud in conversation with a plane, with a tall ent as a spectator. He was soon deeply lost in his work.

It was 5:40. Tanay's mother was back from work. She entered his room bubbling with enthusiasm. She stopped abruptly, partially covered her mouth with her hands, and yelled - "Tanay ! Why have done your drawing on the walls?' .

Tanay - Ma, it didn't fit in the book.

Ma- Now, how will I clean this thing? and Oh my God, we have guests coming home in half an hour!

Tanay - Don't wory ma. I will try and finish it before they come.