Tuesday, May 13, 2014

A teeny transition

I'm so happy today I can embrace stray cats without later ODing on antibacterial wipes. 

Let me explain. I started this blog in 2008 shortly after the birth of my precious one because we all know how liberating motherhood is and how it blesses you with countless extra hours in a day among other things... and if you think about it, who really needs to sleep? You can just bask in the glory of the luminous, ingenuous creation you've just managed to give life to and not indulge in the mundane.

Lol I'm just kidding. It's exhausting, monotonous and dreary. And that's before the kid is even awake. You get the drift. So after days of not stepping out--or was it weeks?--and looking for countless escape routes without any success, I had finally found a respite. A voiceless blog I could post my rant and other useless thoughts to and it wouldn't complain or hang up on me.

That same year I wrote a book too. Surprisingly enough, it got published. Then I wrote for a couple of newspapers and magazines.... about stuff... stuff that no one reads about. Or may be they did. I have no way of knowing. And honestly, it didn't matter. All I wanted was to be able to continue churning out something that wasn't in baby language or pertaining to babies. It consumed me so much that one time I left the baby in the bathtub for three ridiculous hours. She still hasn't forgiven me for that minor oversight.

Okay, that never happened. I swear.

In any case, I wrote another book the following year. Between the occasional blog posts, the monthly articles and the books, I had managed to churn out a whole lot of nothing, also known as commercial stuff for the uninitiated. Until one day I decided to try something new, knowing fully well I couldn't - a short story aimed at a literary magazine.

Lit mags are to commercial writers what the British throne is to Prince Charles... divine, seemingly within reach but entirely unattainable. And here's the best part. There exists a parallel universe where Prince Charles takes to the coveted throne and my short story makes it to a lit mag. 

Dear readers, say hello to The Ivory Charm.

Here is an excerpt... 

A reticent, velvety darkness still loomed over when Mohanchandra Pradhan—fondly referred to as Vakilsahib or Pradhanji by loved ones—stepped out of his bungalow on a prematurely frozen October morning. The previous day’s snowstorm had cast a white blanket over the lofty Himalayan peaks guarding Rangpo, a secluded hill station in Sikkim.
“Chotu,” Pradhanji called out to the servant boy, hurriedly stepping back in, his spine stiff from the fleeting exposure to cold. “Bete clean out the pavement quickly. I mustn’t be late.” He blew air in his cupped palms, rubbing them together to generate heat and placed the hands over his ears first, then his cheeks. It wiped out the tilak on his forehead from the early morning puja.
The boy brought out plow and shovel and gingerly moved ice off the walkway, his face safeguarded in a monkey cap. Pradhanji stepped onto the hand-pulled rickshaw that had been waiting at the gate, his knees numb despite three woolen layers and a shawl, and directed him to the bus station. It was a twenty-minute ride through the town, naturally landscaped with the majestic, snow capped Kanchenjunga, alpine meadows, waterfalls, passes, valleys, perennial rivers and glaciers. Pradhanji had spent a lifetime here. Each solitary ride through it brought a sparkle to his eye.
More at http://northeastreview.com/2014/04/29/the-ivory-charm/