Short Story love

5th May 2010

(9) In the south by Sulman Rushdie
It is/was one of the most popular stories in the NewYorker last year. And no one can spin words like this man. I totally loved the writing. For one the descriptions of that "southern" city so described was poignantly familiar and Rushdie's prose like writing only made me smell the smells and feel the feels. That said, the story is very powerful. It can be cause for introspection, I must warn. And very atypical of his writing, he sprinkles humor just enough to warm to the otherwise serious narration.

Dont miss it. Read it here.


14th Dec 2009

(8) Royalty by Anita Desai
This is from the collection Diamond dust:stories by Anita Desai

I have always been a lover of her writing style. This story had a strange irony which only struck me after I started thinking about the story when it ended. The old friends meet again; the swami among them expects to be fed and housed. Not an easy read, but when it ends, leaves you wanting to know more!

(7) The time of the peacock by Mena Abdullah
This is from the collection Story-wallah: Short Fiction from South Asian Writers

A very poignant tale of faiths, childhood, beliefs and simple happiness of life. The writing style was very novelistic and hence it felt incomplete.

11th Dec 2009

(6) A sandshore wooing by Lucy Maud Montgomery
You can find the story here.

A sweet love story as the name suggests; no ironies, twists. Simple. short and feel-good. And yes, you can feel a tinge of 'Anne' Maud's best creation in the protagonist.

10th Dec 2009

(5) Curious case of Benjamin Button by F Scott Fitzgerald
You can find the story here.

Having loved the movie, for its bizarre innovation, I found the short story even more intriguing! Its such a make-you-think piece about how at old age one actually starts living backwards. Also Fitzgerald's style of writing has a tinge of satiric humor, it makes the read a pleasurable one.

9th Dec 2009

(4)The evening gift by R K Narayan

This story is from the collection "under the banyan tree and other stories"

Typical Malgudi scene. A man living hand to mouth, does bizarre work for a rich drunkard. And in Narayan's style ends the tale in sad irony.

8th Dec 2009

I am a huge fan of short stories, especially after my all time favorite author RK Narayanan's Malgudi days. I feel they tell you a lot more than a bulky book would.
I have completed 3 shots so far -

(1)The child's story by Charles Dickens
You can find it here.

A typical dickens to harp on the Scrooge like exemplary of a human being, who forgets, remembers, loves and lets go. The ending of the story was the best part of the read. A feel good read

(2)The overcoat by Nikolai Gogol

Inspired by the reference to the book in 'the Namesake', I fished the book online. In fact its a small book and hence can pass off for a short story. The protagonist is rather intriguing, even in the whole aura of simplicity and boredom surrounding him. He is also a plural for Gogol's definition of a living being of that era, a silent spectator of corrupt revolution and the common man. I am still figuring my interpretation of the end.

Did you read the overcoat? what do you draw from the end?

(3)The Cabuliwallah by Rabindranath Tagore
You can find the story and other short stories by Tagore here.

Poignant. Subtle. Lovely.
I love reading stories in and around the british raj; it almost beatifies me to understand a nation that once was and how it would have been if it weren't partitioned to bits today. Though cabuliwallah is not a direct indicator of british india, its somewhere there emanating the smell of fear, love and discrimination.

In other rooms, other wonders

By Daniyal Mueenuddin

This book is a finely honed collection of stories, artfully interwoven across the steep and concentric societal hierarchy. The characters are all part of a complex system of feudal legacy; though varied in their monetary place, the emotions and subtleties remain the same through every story.

The center of the book is KK Harouni, the complacent residue of an ancient Pakistani feudal lordship. The stories circumscribe his extended kin of managers, servants and workers, who are pilfering yet serving his comfortable inheritance. The prime characters are almost always women and though only two of the stories are titled such (Lily and Our lady of Paris), the others follow the same pattern.

The men in the stories are in a comfort zone of power, sufficient wealth and authority to govern their lives. And in the imperfect world, their faith is shaken by concupiscence, combined with prowess of a woman that they feel threatened and humble to succumb. However, in all his stories, there is no triumph; like a pack of strangers at a gambling table, they all take back loses and few victorious moments to relish.

The stories are all hauntingly beautiful and that is totally owing to the prose like writing. Daniyal’s expressive writing and the peaceful exposition may be compared to Jhumpa Lahiri, which leaves a downy ringtone at the end of each tale. His ability to pack ironies, loose ends and nonjudgmental realities may be almost similar to Malgudi Days, but the element of satire is dark.

There were also other details; the author combines in his stories that give a peek into a Pakistan I had never known existed. In ‘Lily’, Daniyal, gives a glimpse of modern Pakistani life, a copious Islamabad society ousting orthodox fundamentalism. In ‘Provide Provide’, he comments on the gypsy realm and in ‘Our lady of Paris’ and ‘A Spoiled man’ he describes the affluent Pakistani, who almost lives as a westerner.

With a package of strangeness, unwarranted longing, perfect relationships undone by idiosyncrasies of love and moments of unattainable passion, Daniyal has created a ‘wonder’ in itself. I recommend this book for a peaceful vacation in the countryside; it may almost be a cue for self-analysis!

The interpreter of maladies

By Jhumpa Lahiri

I began reading this collection of short stories to fill my hours in between chores; though by the time I ended it, I had realized that all the chores were pending and I had immensely underestimated the intensity of t he stories.

Lahiri crafts one tale after another, with depth, tinge of irony and open ended-ness, which render perfection to a short story. The stories are told in first, second and third person contexts, encompassing lives of Bengalis in America, Bengalis in India, first and second generation Bengalis. The story telling is simple and flows mellifluously from one page to next and suffices to get you involved in the characters and their lives without any effort.

The narrative circumscribes various nuances; the turmoil of the Bengal partition, the hardships of living life away from home-country, the paradox of relationships in and out of a marital bond, the incongruity of a mob are but a few. The cultural of Bengal is well depicted through the food, the traditions, the attires and attitudes, that you can almost smell the spices and experience the specter she creates.

However warm the stories, the aspect of centralizing the motif to Bengalis’ and Bengali immigrants’ lives lingers like the piquant after-taste of a heavily spiced curry for the reader. Having read Namesake, the author seems to be recycling what she knows best and wants to be part of. I wish Lahiri, keeps her writing style to deliver more books that are drifted away from the Bengal coast.

Enjoy the book with a hot masala chai on a lull evening; you won’t believe how therapeutic that can be!

Malgudi’s child

Malgudi days is my true unfaltering favorite till date; Swami and Friends my second best. I have re-read the books so many times as to lose count. It is honestly unnerving to be writing about the author’s work that I have devoured without raising a brow, but simply taken in all that he wrote without a single lull moment.

The magic of Malgudi is in the haunting aura it created to believe in the existence of this town; so true in its map, people and teeming life that it was almost impossible to not know its geographical location. The stories were left deliberately open-ended to read between the lines, take in the strangeness of human emotions and yet interpret the ending to the reader’s discretion.

Having read the books since I was twelve, I fail to pinpoint a single best story that formed a stamp in my mind. At each age there was a different story that drove a point home or made me realize something new that I didn’t know before.

I love Engine Trouble for that subtle humor peppered against the sloth-like rules of administration. While, The missing mail had hidden messages of how we take an integral person like the postman for granted; at the same time Leela’s Friend left me feeling poignant and incomplete. Whatever be the irony or hope the stories depicted, they left enough and more room to dissect the inner meaning, so much so that you could spend a whole lifetime understanding what R. K actually wanted to convey to us.

If a plural society was what Malgudi expressed, its most loved character Swami had been the epitome of every child. His childhood is synonym to our own, even before we are old enough to read his adventures. We might have already lived a good amount of it, without realizing how adventurous and utterly satiric it had been!

 If a good book is one without an ending, Malgudi’s heritage is indeed a timeless one!