my first story, barring the one i wrote about the dentist and sadly didnt get published

Every year the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival celebrates the spirit of Mumbai with a week long cultural programme. It incorporates film screenings, dance performances, music recitals, food festivals, plays, creative writing workshops, visual arts exhibitions and heritage walks. It also hosts a number of competitions, such as the Flash Fiction contest; encouraging awareness about the arts and urging people to give expression to the dormant creativity in them.

Flash Fiction (also called micro-fiction or short-shorts) presents a simple challenge: tell a story with all the classical elements: a beginning, middle and end, a conflict and resolution, a credible protagonist…but do so in a very limited number of words.

Here’s an attempt.


She was a pretty, young thing. In fact, I quite liked her. But the day she rolled her eyes and said, with a short, sharp laugh, ‘Love, what’s love? It’s all rubbish, yaar’ to her best buddy who was nursing a broken heart, I knew I had to step in. I stalked her day and night, hiding my boyish golden curls under a cap and my bow and arrows in a huge slingbag. I followed her wherever she went; watched her keenly when she interacted with people. But she was close, very close. And then, one day I saw it. Her eyes danced as she spoke to her boss, her smile a bit too ready to please. I knew then that I had won. I strung an arrow to my bow and let it fly. It struck her heart in the middle of a conversation with him. She suddenly blushed and stuttered. ‘Ha!’, I exclaimed, ‘there, done’.
Revenge was sweet. Very sweet.

father's day!

Well, I don’t think I’ve ever done this sort of thing, but I’m sure my dad has had to put up with a lot of weird things that I do day in and day out.

Here’s to my papa: Belated happy father’s day! You’re the best!!

A few days back, shrek 3, the latest offering in a highly successful commercial enterprise, was released to a world wide audience. Much like its parent creations, it too chronicles an episode in the life of our friendly neighborhood ogre called shrek, and indulges in a variety of tell-tale (pun intended) parodies on the way. The indulgence, however, becomes an impediment to the magical way in which a simple story, well-told had earlier captured our imagination, The whole point about , ‘ogres having layers’ , is lost in the multitude of cultural references that the film spins from one scene to the other. The moral and the aesthetic implication of having an ogre as a hero, and of subverting the monopoly that conventional, stereotypical, princes (or princesses) have admittedly exercised in fairy-tales, is neglected. It only seems to be over-doing its self-reflexivity : it becomes a story obsessed with its own cleverness in its telling.
Though Dreamworks, shrek’s production house, does not continue its mockery of Disney, (its major rival company), as much as it did in the first shrek film, it unfortunately tries to compensate by putting in a plethora of cultural references in its place. While films like shrek are understood to be for young adults in the west, here it is supposed to be a film for children because it is animated. The point is that not many children, (its supposed target audience, in India) would understand either the necessity or the usage of tongue-in-cheek parodies of popular songs, rock-bands, numerous films, and mythical, legendary figures. But then again, shrek is really more of a film for adults, rather than children; the latest is more so , with its reference to shrek’s impending introduction to parenthood , and fiona’s feminist rampage. The plot is barely there and too predictable. The story suffers; cultural references are clever but not very engaging to all. Whereas earlier films could be understood and loved on the basis of the simplicity and the interest aroused by the story alone, this latest is directed to adults well versed with western culture and even they with all the subtle evanescent humor between the lines or behind the scenes here, will find it difficult to swallow without the sweetening saccharine of a grossing plot. In India, Shrek loses it with children, and also, partially with adults like me.



On another note, it’s interesting to see that Shrek isn’t the first time that children have been exposed to adult themes in a work arguably meant for children. Books and films for children have often referred to intimacy, relationships, or events with disturbing repercussions. When I read children’s books now, I am not only struck by their slight but existing references to adult themes, but also by the fact that I was not affected by these as a child. Children books like to sir with love, or the curious incident of the dog in the night, or the Adrian Mole series can be read at two levels, one as a child and the other as an adult. In the west, bowdlerized books meant purely for children are being seen as unnecessary, not only because they work on two levels, but also because familiarization with adult issues is seen as desirable. Though difficult to gauge reactions to this on an authorial level in India, because the market for children books is decidedly small, I have no doubt that such-like offences will not be tolerated by our home-grown molice police. We have grown up on censored versions of everything; books, films, plays. Though it is difficult to support the argument of two levels, with relation to films, because of the visual medium of expression, I think that shrek is fine on this account. It does not overdo anything which does not or did not happen in real life. There can be instances, however, where these can be easily taken overboard, and then maybe, we will need to see exactly where to draw the line.


P.S: forgive the amazingly boring impersonal tone; I was trying to write as a newspaper columnist.

P.P.S: er, my apologies to newspaper columnists…:)
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