Browsing All Posts filed under »Fiction«

Readers Write In #235: Rejoinder/fan fiction/antithesis on the microshort series Mopmandai Marthandan

July 31, 2020

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(by H Prasanna) The micro-series is here: https://baradwajrangan.wordpress.com/2020/07/26/fc-south-short-film-5-the-mopmandai-marthandan-micro-series/ Mopster Strangelove, or recontextualizing the story of an anthropomorphic mop from a human perspective Rise of the Planet of the Mops, Mop Runner, Mopey Dick, and RoboMop were the titles that ran across my mind when I started writing this. This was when the Mops had just […]

Readers Write In #233: The blind man and the waterfall

July 29, 2020

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(by Abishek Balaji) “July 31, 2055. 11:45pm. Seventy five years since Harry Potter and Ninety years since JK Rowling was born. Seven years since Southern India went down under the Sea. The 19th Revised Hunger Games Fifth Edition Phase 1. If I win this by defeating my 50 other counterparts, I go to the next […]

Readers Write In #230: HER

July 26, 2020

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(by G Waugh) Art allows one to enjoy aspects which others might find very ordinary or superficial. Literature that is generally premised on a healthy imagination helps one to enjoy things which are not immediately perceptible to others. For example, I can sit inside a dull and gloomy Electromagnetic Theory Classroom for more than two […]

Readers Write In #228: Milk packet

July 24, 2020

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(by Subash Subramani) MORNING, 6:00 AM “WAKE UP,FILTHY” yelled sujatha to her step son who is not even considered as a human to herself. “Please amma let me sleep for sometime more , I was up till 2 o clock working night shift” Siva replied without opening his eyes. “How dare you raise your voice […]

Readers Write In #179: Khandavaprastha: The Illusions of Reality

May 17, 2020

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(by Sundaresh Raja) (This short-story is loosely (I mean not-so loosely) based on an episode from Mahabharatha, the greatest story ever) They asked for Khandavaprastha. Nobody would have seen that coming. They pleaded to be given that barren land in the outskirts infested with snakes, and known as Khandavaprastha. In reality, their rightful property was […]

Readers Write In #174: Goodbye

May 11, 2020

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(by Nitin CV) What’s the platform number? My father asks. Three, I say. He knows it already, but he asks just to make conversation. We have not been on the best of terms for the last three days. This is a regular feature in our relationship. We argue about some small, inconsequential matter; and before […]

Readers Write In #151: The One With The Rosebud

March 28, 2020

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(by Amit Joki) Author’s note: This was the script I had written and submitted to the Amazon Prime Originals when they were still accepting scripts. Obviously, it did not get selected. So I thought of publishing it in BR’s blog but he rightly suggested that the screenplay format would be difficult to read and asked […]

Readers Write In #135: Reconnect

January 22, 2020

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(by Iniya, the 14-year-old daughter of Aravindan R, a regular reader of this blog) PROLOGUE – FORTNIGHT  Me That’s it. My life’s over. What will everyone say? Nah! Who cares what they say. Like I’m going to tell them. They’ll probably laugh at me. None of it matters now, without her. She was the only joy in […]

Readers Write In #113: Why Babies Cry?

November 13, 2019

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(by Amit Joki) When I saw the first light of my life, I was bewildered. There were so many unknown people who were poking me, disturbing my cheeks, pulling my fingers and toes. It seemed to me these people had no jobs but to have a go at me. I was powerless. My tiny little […]

Readers Write In #103: The Turk

October 8, 2019

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(by Sanjay NM) So, we moved on to the next round, like in a boxing bout. Some would say it was boxing but I prefer to call it “healthy exchanges”. In the good old days, we would sit around and have these exchanges over that lousy liquid. Arguments that were as eclectic as anything. Topics from […]

Readers Write In #15: The Forbidden Kiss

April 29, 2017

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It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold. I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was […]

Out in newsstands now…

April 5, 2016

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The new issue of The Indian Quarterly is out, and I have a story in it. (As in, fiction.) Do check it out. PS: A big shout-out to everyone who read early drafts and made suggestions. PPS: It’s not online yet.

Day two

June 21, 2015

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The second day of laryngitis is the worst. The first day, you’re just coughing, and the doctor feels your throat and nods, as if you’re supposed to be well-versed in the language of doctorly nods. Pursed lips means: It’s bad. Raised eyebrows mean: Well, I never. That sort of thing. I am not a nod […]

In verse

April 18, 2015

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April, I hear, is National Poetry Month. Only in the United States, technically, but we can, we should appropriate it for the global village too. And so here I am, wondering how to celebrate NPM this morning While at my desk, waiting for my phone to charge And the laundry cycle to finish. Maybe I’ll […]

A month without Mary

April 2, 2012

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About thirty days ago, I said goodbye to Mary. We were expecting a call, and when the call came we ran to the hospital, to the ICU, past the sweetly round-faced woman at the door who betrayed her Bengali provenance through air-heavy admonitions, and as the others waited outside, I went in and stood by […]

The Girl Who Smelled of Rum

June 9, 2009

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SHE ASKED ME WHAT MY FAVOURITE SWEET WAS and I said groundnut balls and she wouldn’t stop laughing for five minutes. She’d sober up, her moonface reflecting the resolve to leave my feelings unhurt, then she’d make the anatomical connection and begin to laugh again. I told her she didn’t speak my language and that’s […]

To My Left, On My Bed

June 8, 2007

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IN THE CENTRE OF HER BACK, between two knobby outgrowths of spine, there’s a mole. It rises slightly from the skin, a tiny hillock of dull red, shaped like a strawberry with its top chewed off. It’s not a mole, she concluded one afternoon, when I told her about my discovery. She tried to feel […]