by Nikita Singh
Table of Contents
Cover Page
title
Book Title 1
Copyright
Contents
EDITOR’S NOTE
INSERT A CARROT
The English Teacher
The Return of the (Original) Vampire
Summer Showers
THE X-BOSS
An Unlikely Accomplice
THE U-TURN
A WHISPERED PRAYER
Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan
Durjoy Datta
Judy Balan
Harsh Snehanshu
Shoma Narayanan
Parinda Joshi
Atulya Mahajan
Nikita Singh
Back Cover
The
Turning
Point
The
Turning
Point
Best of Young Indian Writers
edited by
Nikita Singh
© Individual contributors, 2014
Concept: Shobit Arya
First published 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior permission of the author and the publisher.
This is a work of fiction, and all the characters, places and events of the stories are the product of imagination, and any resemblance to any living or dead person or events or places will be entirely co-incidental.
ISBN 978-81-8328-346-5
Published by
Wisdom Tree
4779/23, Ansari Road
Darya Ganj, New Delhi-110 002
Ph.: 23247966/67/68
[email protected]
Printed in India
CONTENTS
Editor’s Note
1. Insert a Carrot
2. The English Teacher
3. The Return of the (Original) Vampire
4. Summer Showers
5. The X-Boss
6. An Unlikely Accomplice
7. The U-Turn
8. A Whispered Prayer
EDITOR’S NOTE
When this book was conceived, the idea was to get some of the best young Indian writers together, and have them write short stories, without binding them to a central theme. Letting everyone do their own thing—that’s the crux of it. One thing I noticed was how all these writers have moved beyond their established genre and explored new frontiers, pushing the boundaries.
That is what I believe is responsible for the exciting mix of genre and style in this book. Every story follows its own way, without a predefined pattern. As you go from one story to another, you get transported from one world to an entirely different one.
Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan’s Insert a Carrot is full of humour and wit, and provides a brilliant insight into modern day relationships, break ups and all things related. Durjoy Datta’s The English Teacher explores the age old fascination of school students with their teachers...taking it to another level altogether. Judy Balan’s The Return of the (Original) Vampire is a quirky take on the present day picturisation of vampires. Harsh Snehanshu writes about first love and destiny in Summer Showers. Shoma Narayanan has written a hilarious story about a ghost, that hangs back in the real world, in The X-Boss. Parinda Joshi’s An Unlikely Accomplice is a crime thriller, circling around a rave party in the suburbs of Ahmedabad. Atulya Mahajan writes about confusion, uncertainty and realisation in The U-Turn. And I have written about moving forward and hope, in A Whispered Prayer.
We have a vampire going through identity crisis, a ghost stuck in the real world, a closet psychopath and a young boy in love. We have a girl moving on after a break up, an uncle coming to terms with his grief and the truth, a to-be father struggling with establishing priorities and a rape survivor, dealing with ghosts from her past.
The one thing all stories have in common is a turning point. Every story starts or ends at a turning point. Or maybe revolves around one. Things change—that’s one truth of life. As John Green writes in The Fault in Our Stars, ‘Grief does not change you. It reveals you.’ Life is about accepting things that don’t happen our way and take them in our stride. It is only when we go through certain things in life that we discover what really matters to us and what should not. I think this is what most stories here talk about.
I have had a great time working with all these amazing writers, and I do hope you like reading the stories as much as I enjoyed working on them. Please feel free to connect with the writers, and me at any time for suggestions, comments and—the best of all—appreciation!
INSERT A CARROT
MEENAKSHI REDDY MADHAVAN
– I don’t think it says what it’s supposed to say.
– What do you mean? What does it say?
– Oh dear. Oh, you’re not going to like this.
– You’re seriously freaking me out now, just tell me!
– Okay. OKAY. Just remember not to shoot the messenger.
– I’ll shoot you if you don’t bloody tell me what’s going on.
– There’s no ‘a’.
– What do you mean there’s no ‘a’?
– In ‘behaved’. There’s no ‘a’.
– How can there not be an ‘a’? I saw the stencil! The stencil totally had an ‘a’.
– Well, this doesn’t.
– Are you sure? Do you have a mirror?
– How long have you known me? Do I look like the kind of person to carry a mirror?
– Oh my God. Are you really making this about you at this point? Just find something! A reflective surface! I have to see it!
– There are no reflective surfaces! Oh—wait, I have an idea, let me take a picture with my phone and show it to you.
– Done?
– Hang on, wait, yeah, there it is. It’s a bit blurry, but…
– OH MY GOD.
– I’m sorry!
– OH MY FREAKING GOD!
– I’m sure it can be fixed!
– Why were you not looking when he did it?
– I was holding your hand, remember? You said to distract you!
– Yes, but you could’ve checked when he was done.
– This is not my fault.
– Oh. My. God.
– Relax.
– Don’t tell me to relax. I’m having a panic attack. I can’t breathe.
– If you couldn’t breathe, you wouldn’t be talking.
– Is this the time? No, really, is it?
– You could put that thing, what’s it called? The upward arrow thing?
– A carrot?
– Is it really called a carrot?
– Something like that.
– Well, anyway, you could put the carrot and put the ‘a’ in, and I think it would look quite good.
– It would look sloppy.
– Well, either that, or you could have it laser removed and re-do it.
– How much would a laser removal cost?
– More than that did, that’s for sure.
– Oh great. Now I’m stuck with it.
– You know, you can only tell it’s misspelled if you look really closely.
– It’s on my lower back.
– So?
– Sooo, that means I kinda want people—the right people—to look at it closely.
– They call it a tramp stamp.
– Who calls it a tramp stamp?
– People. About people with tattoos on their lower backs.
– You couldn’t have told me this before?
– I assumed you knew. This is common pop culture knowledge.
– I don’t watch as much TV as you do!
– Hey, my TV has just pointed out that you have a tramp stamp.
– A misspelled tramp stamp.
– Don’t cry.
– Who’s crying?
– You looked like you were about to.
– I’m not crying; I’m angry at the stupid tattoo artist.
– Maybe if you had spent less time flirting with him, he could have concentrated on his job.
– I was so not flirting with him!
– Yuh-huh. You so were!
– I was being polite. Here’s a life lesson: when someone is holding a needle to your skin, you should normally try to be polite.
– Otherwise they might mess things up?
– Yes—oh, shut up.
– We’ll go back. We’ll put in the carrot.
– Is there space for the carrot?
– Yes, I think so. Listen, are you sure it’s called a carrot?
– Let me Google it.
– What? What?
– Oh God.
– What?
– Another life lesson: never search on Google for ‘insert carrot’.
– …
– Don’t laugh! This is not funny!
– It’s hysterical!
– I’m glad my fate brings you so much amusement.
– Oh, don’t be a drama queen. Let me search.
– What are you searching for?
– Definitely not ‘insert carrot’, that’s for sure. No, I’m searching for ‘symbol to insert a missing letter.’
– Oh.
– Yeah.
– I would have thought of that, it’s just, you know, the stress.
– Of course, darling. Don’t beat yourself up.
– Did you find it?
– Yes! And here’s good news, you were right! Doesn’t that cheer you up?
– It’s called a carrot?
– Close. It’s called a caret.
– Carrot. Like I said.
– No, no. Caret. Like diamonds.
– But diamonds have carrots too.
– Wow.
– What?
– I can’t believe you just said that.
– What?
– You honestly don’t know the difference between a carrot—vegetable and a caret—diamond?
– It sounds like you’re saying exactly the same thing.
– CarET, you deaf idiot! Et! Et!
– Would you keep your voice down?
– I cannot possibly fathom how you have spent your whole life saying ‘carrot’ and no one has corrected you.
– It sounds the same to me.
– Repeat after me: C
– This is ridiculous.
– Repeat, I said!
– ‘C’
– Very good! ‘A’.
– ‘A’
– ‘R’
– Is this necessary?
– R!
– Arrrrrrr.
– ‘E’
– ‘E’
– ‘T’!
– T
– And that’s how you spell ‘caret’.
– That’s just great, Nush, thanks.
– What?
– We’re meant to be focusing on my misery here, not giving me a spelling lesson.
– But the spelling lesson will be so important when you go back to the tattoo artist.
– Why?
– Because, imagine if you told him to insert a carrot and he already thought you were flirting with him and—ow!
– You deserved that.
– It’s fun-neee.
– It’s on my body.
– But imagine the fun times you’ll have when a boy undresses you and he says, ‘What’s that?’ and you’ll say, ‘Well, I inserted a carrot.’
– Well.
– Hah! You totally want to smile! I see it.
– I’m probably smiling out of despair.
– No, I know your despairing smile, this is your I’mtrying-not-to-laugh-and-failing-smile.
– You know, this would happen. The Universe hates me. I am no longer a Beloved Child of the Universe. I’m like the Universe’s Stepdaughter.
– Stepdaughters get away with a lot. And they get to marry the prince.
– Hah.
– I said, ‘get to’, I didn’t say they did.
– Be that as it may. What is the protocol on break ups?
– We’ve discussed this, and there are no hard and fast rules…
– Still! What is the one, standard, universal break up protocol?
– That one or both members of the breakup do something drastic to their appearance.
– And what has Abhi done?
– Do we really want to talk about Abhi?
– Just answer the question.
– He got a haircut.
– A haircut! He had dreadlocks! His dreadlocks were his thing. I might have even dated him for his dreadlocks!
– Really?
– Don’t be judgy, Miss I-Went-Out-With-a-Walking-Heart-Attack.
– He was not.
– He was three times your size!
– You are such a size-ist!
– How did you even have sex with him is what I want to know.
– You know.
– I just want you to say it again.
– Fine. On top.
– A-ha!
– I like being on top.
– Correction: you had to be on top. Or he would’ve squished you. Like a bug.
– Well, at least he didn’t look like a caveman.
– Abhi was very sexy.
– If you like Neolithic men.
– Homo erectus, if you know what I mean.
– Oh God, you’re disgusting.
– I’m also never going to have sex again.
– Oh, sweetie, don’t say that, you’ll be back on the horse in no time.
– No, I mean it. I’m never taking my clothes off again.
– The right man will not notice your carrot.
– Please don’t say it, I beg you.
– In fact, he might come with his own carrot.
– You said it.
– It was right there, waiting to be said. It would’ve been like the elephant in the bedroom.
– Huh.
– Or the donkey, in this case, because I don’t think elephants eat carrots.
– D’you think Abhi’s having a lot of sex?
– Maya…
– No, I mean, think about it. There were probably loads of girls, like you, before, who’d have been all like, ‘Oh, he’d be cute if he lost the dreadlocks.’ And now that he has, there must be all these girls just like throwing themselves at him.
– He wasn’t all that, with or without dreadlocks.
– People used to look at us, you know? They’d look at us when we walked into a party or a bar or something, the girls would all look at him and then look at me, and I could see them wondering, ‘What’s someone like that doing with her?’
– Or, very probably, they thought, ‘What’s someone like her doing with that?’
– You’re sweet.
– I’m honest! Listen; I know what you’re going through, I broke up with Mayank not too long ago.
– Fat Mayank.
– Yes, okay, Fat Mayank, but I really liked him.
– I know you did.
– You have some weird fat issues, but I happen to like my men cuddly.
– Nothing wrong with that! Fly that fat flag high, sister!
– Anyway. Even though things with me and Mayank…
– Fat Mayank.
– Really? Okay, you’re blue, I’ll give you this much. Even though things with me and Fat Mayank were never stellar, I kinda hoped that one day they would be. So it hurt when things ended.
– And you joined a gym.
– And I joined a gym, and it was a very good decision.
– You look fabulous, did I tell you that already? You look absolutely stu
nning today.
– Thank you, my love, and so do you.
– With a misspelled tattoo on my ass.
– Technically, it’s your lower back, and hey, even if it is misspelled, it looks nice.
– Really?
– Oh totally. The font looks great!
– I suppose that’s small compensation.
– It’s great compensation. You wouldn’t like a tacky font on your back, would you?
– I did spend a lot of time choosing the script.
– We spent a lot of time choosing the script.
– Oh, Nush.
– What is it?
– Nothing. You’ve been great. So great.
– You’re not going to get all sentimental on me, are you?
– Is there something wrong with someone thanking their friend?
– Friendship means never having to say thank you. Or something.
– Isn’t that a line from Love Story?
– Yes, yes it is. It’s ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry.’
– God, I hated that book.
– Did you? I loved it when I was a teenager. I worshipped it. I swooned over it. I thought I was the first person ever to have cried when poor Jenny died.
– I thought I did too, but then I re-read it, and I was like, ‘Man, this book is stupid.’ I mean, Love means never having to say you’re sorry? That sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. If you ask me, people should apologise more often.
– Are we thinking of certain people?
– Aren’t we always? God, I’ve become such a girl with a one track mind. All I can think about is Abhi, Abhi, Abhi. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
– It’s natural. I mean, you did just break up with him.
– Yeah, but before him, I was perfectly fine. I was smart! I had thoughts beyond, ‘Who is my ex-boyfriend doing today?’
– You’ll get over it.
– I don’t think you get it, it’s like, the stuff I tell you is only half the stuff ! I wake up in the morning and I check his Facebook profile. If he has new friends, I click through to see if any of them are pretty young single girls. I listen to the playlist he made me, and I cry. There is something wrong with me.
– You know when Fat Mayank—there, see, I said it, are you happy?—when Fat Mayank and I broke up, I spent the week in one of the T-shirts he left behind, because it still smelt of him, and I walked around the house in this T-shirt.