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The Rant 3.0

It's chilling tonight in Hyderabad, the traffic outside my room is thinning slowly.
An Ernest Hemingway book is staring at me. It is my salary day gift to myself.
Every end of the month, my company dutifully deposits my salary in my numbered account in Geneva.
On that day, after finishing from office or some workshop,depending upon the orders of the day,I go to the Crossword.  I like to be surrounded by books. I still remember the first time I had visited a library. It was my school library. My favorite book back then was a giant Picture book about the various planets and heavenly bodies. But, what I loved in those books was the pictures of Greek gods and godessess and  a small background  story on how these bodies came to be named as they are today.

I hardly recall any word from that book, except that its smell still lingers somewhere;
I used to run as soon as the bell rang, leaving my lunch untouched. I wanted to be the first kid to get that book issued. 

So, it has been a pattern of some sort. A kind of bribe to myself for completing another month.
Whatever it is, I like it. I place my bag at the entry, in the safe custody of the doorman.
The doorman nods and acknowledges me. I start with the fresh Indian fiction section. One whole shelf is dedicated to the Master Bhagat,and his other followers. Then adjacent to that is a collection which is a bit more matured and sensible. Authors like Shashi Tharoor ,Amitav Ghosh,Jumpa Lahiri fill those spaces. I like Jhumpa Lahiri's style of writing very much. There is no surprise ending or suspense, just a simple well crafted story. Her main theme has always been about the immigrants from India. I recently read one of  her collection of stories.

 I once  purchased a story collection of Premchand, I am a very big fan of his work. His stories are heart wrenching tales from the  Hindi hinterland. His stories can be termed as the historical record of the life and times in those days of turmoil during British rule. His own life, is a tragedy.He died in his early 50s from poverty and illness.

It was suicidal in those days to write. 
My other favourite author is Sadat Hassan Manto. Manto, although being a master story teller of his genre, also died in abject poverty and debt.
Manto's stories are a mirror to the society. I guess he was the first writer who wrote extensively on pimps and prostitutes. He also wrote about the film industry of that time. He was a well paid story writer. Had he been a normal,compromising writer , he could have lived a lavish life in Mumbai. 

But then life had something else store for him;early death and everlasting  fame. Plus the fact, that his roots were from Kashmir and he was tried thrice for vulgarity and obscenity makes him my personal favorite.
His stories have that rawness, they seem to have been finished in one go, with no revisions or editing. They are a result of an epiphany and not brooding over every line.

His one of the best story is "Thanda Gost" or the "Cold meat", 
I got shaken to the core after finishing it.

The skill he had, cannot be taught to anyone nor can it be practiced. 
It is God given. I am pretty surprised that in India, he is not  celebrated that much as Ghalib or Iqbal are. Albeit, he matched them word for word in prose.

It has become quieter now. My building has 15 families living in. Ours is the only
"Bachelorate" flat. We are taken as threat to their "happy" householder's life.
"Well, what can we able to do saaar?"

Moving on next is my parody  on  reviews. 
We assume that if we continuously ask questions or make an employee present some bullshit figures in some bullshit PPT, he or she can improve rapidly.

 I am again feeling drowsy, my eyelids are too heavy now......

Off to sleep, hope you like it, will continue with review of the "review" MO used in various sectors,I once made my colleague spill his black tea with my  story about a condom sales guy and his annual review,so stay tuned and let me know the feedback.

It's just that I am tired of mailing it or texting the link to people for reviews.

Why do I use "that"  so much,"that" should be nipped in "that" bud of that"plant" in "that" garden behind my building  ....dedicated to my editor,my muse.



  1. Superb man !
    Paper kab daal raha hai tu ?

    1. hahah....Chauhan bhai, bas ye sawal na pucha karo...and jitna zyada tum promote karoge...utna jaldi


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