Tina’s story

Now, Tina was a angry young girl. She used to get angry for infinite silly reasons. When she came out of her mother’s womb, her crinkly little pink face was all wreathed in anger and she refused to open her eyes for whole one day, because she was finally getting used to the comfort zone of womb & someone took her out of it.

She grew up into a tall, lanky lass, her round wired spectacles perched on her nose. The power of being angry gave her happiness.

It was kind of an exhilarating moment to see, when she was angry actually. If the gentle kind reader will imagine with me, she turned into a little engine, steam huffed and puffed out of her ears as she gathered all her energy to curve her eyebrows and turned her bulbous nose in shining red ball.

At first, it all looked cute when she was young, she just looked like an angry fur ball sans the fur, but once when she grew up, it made her look ugly.

She learned from somewhere, probably an idiot box called television, to throw things out of the balcony, she threw spoons, plates, books & Tantrums.

Her mother quietly watched her and worried about her. She didn’t have any idea about what to do with her. She herself wanted to be angry and scorn at the world. But making ends meet at home, didn’t allow her that so she laughed & defused her anger.

Tina’s father ran away with another man when Tina was a 1 year old baby. while the statistics and economics of marital life didn’t bother Tina much, but it surely did affected her mother. She bottled up her anger perhaps on the empty kitchen shelves & swallowed the bitter after taste of staying alone and facing the shame of her ex husband leaving her for another man. Had it been a woman, sympathy would’ve been gained, but a man…

Sometimes when Tina’s Mother couldn’t sleep at night, she wondered how did they make a baby. It was a miracle, Tina’s mother thought.

Nearby Tina in another room would dream that her anger is finally destroying the world & she look happy young girl while sleeping.

But day by day as Tina grew up, her anger issues multiplied. It was not that she threw tantrums because she wanted something, she threw tantrums because she liked it.

Tina actually got tired, once when the anger act was over. The color would drain out of her face, she would calm down and go to bed.

Oh, but dear gentle readers , we have never discussed for what she got angry so much for. If the toast was too hot, she would get angry. If her shoes were missing from the shoe rack, she would get angry. There was a green worm in the pea pod & she would get angry, the television wouldn’t air her favorite program and she would get angry. In fact the whole world made her angry.

And i must tell you, being angry all the time plasters a permanent expression of grumpiness on your face and its a tiring job, lets admit it. A frown never wins anything.

That’s why, Tina’s mother, home schooled her.

One fine day & Be patient my dear readers, the story is coming to an end. When Tina was angry for reason that only God could fathom. It started out as an anger fest, she started by throwing cup, spoons, plates, fork, knives to the floor. Next she ripped the table cloth, pulled down the curtains, she hurled the chair across the room and almost broke TV.

Her mother had finally lost all the patience. They both stood at the opposite each other in the hall room and stared. “I’ve had enough” her mother said. “you are going to clean this room & your room. Then you are going to redo the kitchen and cook us a decent meal. And if you feel like getting angry again, then go outside and empty the garbage can.”

“Mom..” Tina began. Her eyebrows started to curve and the bulbous nose started to grow pink. “No, Tina” her mother interrupted.

“I have had enough of it.” Tina’s mother said again. She threw a book towards Tina and said. “you will be allowed to get angry ,but first finish read this book. ”

Tina gingerly picked up the book & read the title- Matilda by Roald Dahl.

Perhaps this was not a story about a little girl getting angry, It was just a story about a 10 year old girl, who had not yet discovered joys of reading.

I clearly don’t know, what happened to Tina in future. But i can assure you, that books must have made world a better place for her to live in. After all, being angry doesn’t get you anywhere.

Till we meet in another story, be kind.



Story spinner-1

I wrote by mistake or high level sleep induced hormones the title for this post..Story Sinner.

While it sounded like a good first post title, I had zero content to post for it.

Things are also almost the same with this title too, Story Spinner.

But with new affirmations, will and internet facility at work, i will be able to spin something with words.

So with sun (tan) in my face & wind (& Dandruff ) in my hair, let us start.

My first curiosity as to articles, stories, fiction, novels, novellas, non-fiction & all forms of written siblings and their cousins, is how do the writers source their titles.

Do writers sit at their desk & ponder over what titles to choose for their work.

Or do they first choose their title and then work around it ?

As for me, good titles have always deluded me. Not that i am much of a writer, but a good title is a next valid step to success and of course more viewers and readers. I am sometimes intrigued by the ingeniousness of some writers..actually all.

I am undoubtedly curious,in awe and of course jealous of how George Saunders, J.K.Rowling, Joshua Cohen, Stephen King come up with such awesome titles and stories. And of course who can forget Tolkien, Douglas Adams..On homegrounds-Arvind Adiga, Upmanayu Chatterjee, Ashok Banker, R.K.Narayan.

On this sultry afternoon, where my hair is slowly getting drier day by day by the blasted air from the A.C..i know i am losing out on many things in life-age, hair, opportunities, perhaps good relationships too..

But i am here to keep one thing intact & that being my non-existent, almost negligible sense of humor. I want to make you smile, i want to make myself smile .

I will try to spin a story everyday, short and funny, naive, innocent, funny, heart-breaking, noir , anything and everything. Let words be our guiding light, our source in darkness & our song when we are without any words or rhyme..our stepping stone whenever we tumble down.

Just a parting shot- Whats a good story, but a lie told well ?