Achutales- Introduction 2

Achutales- introduction 1

C- Grade-nanotale by Arathi Menon

"Oh, no! I never expected my marks to be so low! After all I've studied and written, it's just a C!My parents are gonna be so angry with me! This is horrible!"
"Yay!. I never expected my marks to be so high. After all I've studied and written, I made it to a C! My parents are gonna be so happy! This is Great!"

Gratefulness- by Arathi Menon

Gratefulness
When we win something, we are elated. We feel that it is all because of our own effort and nothing else. we then celebrate this in a grand manner and walk around with this ego.
But, on the other hand, when we lose, we get irritated. Here, we never take responsibility for our loss. We then blame it on God, or everyone else around us.
What happens around us is the result of a uniform mixture of our own efforts, our surroundings, and of course, divine intervention. We must acknowledge this every moment of our lives, sad or happy.
Have a good day

The Infant- by Arathi Menon

The Infant

Smiling through the chubbiness

And its wide eyes

Capture every drop of beauty

In every morsel of nature

With full of faith

In its caregiver’s hands

It laughs at the most funniest

To the darkest of faces

Making even a monster’s heart melt

As its young red blood

Flows in a lighter heart

Arathi Menon

Go Back- by Arathi Menon

Go Back

When I was little

And knew nothing much

About the world

There was only light

No bars of fear

No thorns of hate

Where I lived was a beautiful place

But later,

I know not why

And what eclipsed

That light in my heart

And how, through these years

Imaginary shackles around my wrist,

Cactus around, and pricking

Appeared

But what I pray for is now

To go back

To those prejudice free, carefree days

When though tiny, seemingly helpless

Was when I was bravest

And stop time

That makes my limbs grow

And shrinks my heart

I want to go back

To when I was little.
Arathi Menon

Faith- by Arathi Menon

Faith

I shall be happy

As long as I have faith

I shall be safe

As long as I have faith

And no fierce tempest

Shall drown me

Nor I get lost

In a dense forest

No fire of anger

No arrow of pain

Shall burn me

Or hurt me

As long as I am in

Your palm

I shall be happy

I shall be safe

I shall have faith
Arathi Menon

Happy Onam- Digital Painting by Arathi Menon

True- by Arathi Menon

True
Treading on the sand
Of the endless desert
And not enough water
even to sweat
even to cry
Fatigued legs and a dry throat
Try to walk, even crawl
To the destination
Then those drying eyes
Capture a soothing green
A delightful blue
Palm trees beside a pond
Treasure more valuable than gold
But then, I paused
And I thought
I have seen mirages before
and every time I followed them
It led me deeper in this plain land
But this visual had a shadow
The dark patch, brewing hope
I walked towards it
Not in plain blind joy,
but in solid victory
Arathi Menon

The ghost in the bungalow

It was a lovely, breezy evening when my friends and I were playing cricket in our colony. Both the teams had two batsmen each, who were Nakul, Maanav, Sonu and Mike. Anup, Ron and Rashid served as the bowlers, fielders and Mohan, the wicket keeper. Dhruv did the commentary. My friends, Razia, Sweety and Lakshmi and few people in the neighborhood were there to watch the interesting and nail biting cricket match. My  cousin/nemesis Shreya, (who looked almost like a twin to me, but very different in character) was also present too.

                   Unfortunately, I was appointed as an umpire along with another nemesis of mine, Bunty. He along with Shreya and five others at school enjoyed annoying my best friend, Keerthi and me.

             The game went on well, until Mohan caught the ball, which was hit high by Nakul. I was about to say that he was out but;

“Not out!” Shouted Bunty

“It is clear that he is out!” I protested, “Mohan caught the ball”

“But I don’t think that he is out!” shouted Bunty “Let Shreya be the third umpire and make the decision”

“Nakul is out. You are just trying to save your team” I protested “I don’t think that Shreya will make a just decision anyway!”

“You are impossible!” Bunty smirked “And so is your clumsy friend, Keerthi”

I was already angry at Bunty for trying to cheat, but him insulting my best friend, was unbearable. I had no option but to tell it on his face. Grabbing at each other, we then rolled on the ground, as our friends did their best to pull us apart. Finally my mother came out and dragged Shreya and me into our house.

          I got enough scolding from my mother, and Shreya enjoyed watching it. To make it worse appeared Kumar uncle.

“Ritu” he called Amma “I have a complaint about your children”

Amma glared at us and looked back at him.

“I am sorry, uncle. You see, Deepu is hot tempered, silly enough to fight with those boys”

“That is not the complaint” said Kumar uncle “In fact, I enjoyed watching those hooligans fight”

“You mean that they have done something more?” asked Amma, looking at us angrily

“Trust me Amma. I haven’t done anything worthwhile today”

“The matter is that” Kumar uncle continued “The bungalow over there, the one which had been deserted for ten years, for people believed that the ghost of a cat who died then prevailed there. Certain melancholy noises from that bungalow have been disturbing us for ages. As I believe that ghosts do not exist, I believe that…”

“Do you girls have anything to say about this?”

“We will investigate” I said, “We have been serving…”

Kumar uncle raised an eyebrow.

“We will investigate,” said Shreya.

After Kumar uncle went, we plunged into discussion about the haunted bungalow, for getting ourselves out of trouble and for serving our Shalimar colony.

“I can’t believe this!” Shreya exclaimed, “When something strange happens in the colony, we get the blame”

“We must look into this case” I said thoughtfully “And prove ourselves innocent. I say, we must visit that bungalow tonight”

“Tonight?”

“Yes” I replied

That night, I had to drag Shreya to the bungalow. I took my detective kit (Binoculars, magnifier, scissors, chocolates) and put on my detective hat (just for fun). The bangalow  was totally cool inside, with rusty and dusty utensils, and broken photos, mostly of the dead kitten. It gave the house a spooky look. Poor Shreya tried to get rid of her fear while I had other plans.

“Shreya, don’t get scared” she told herself “There is no such thing as. …AAAAhhhhhhhhhh”

“Scared you” I said removing the cloak around me with triumph.

“Not funny!” she exclaimed, “Look there!”

She pointed towards a pile of chewing gum wrappers. We examined it, picked them up, and searched for more clues. We also got a guitar string too. Then suddenly, we realized that we were late and hurried back home.

            The next day I told Keerthi all about the bungalow. We were discussing about the bungalow at class, when

“Hey look! Rudolph’s back!” Bunty said, smiling wickedly under his large shades which covered his blackened eye. He was pointing at my nose, which he smashed, during the fight.

I lost my temper again. We were fighting again, when

“Mr. Singh! Miss. Iyer!” shouted Father Samuel, our history teacher. We decided to calm down. But for our shock;

“I will give you an assignment about the freedom struggle for this Friday. You will do it in pairs. Deepika will pair up with Bunty.”

I got shocked and looked at Bunty, equally shocked. The other children were put in pairs too, and then I met Bunty again after class.

“You can come to my house. Mom wants to meet you anyway”

 That evening, when I went there, Bunty's mother greeted me. She was a very sweet lady, and also was a good friend of Appa and his twin brother. She showed me a photo of herself as a girl and a pair of twin boys, younger than her, with spiky hair and wicked smiles.

“They were great,” she told me “Good boys who did the noble work of raising a new generation of pranksters. Dhruv and Bunty are great fans of them.”

She pointed at him and a bigger boy of eighteen, who was tall and had the same straight, untidy hair as Bunty had, who was teasing him.

“Nice spot, kiddo. Now Tiger has a twin too” He said, laughing wickedly, and was pointing to a puppy, with a black patch around its eye.

“Now I’m going to practice for my band ‘Disaster,’” he told him “and remember, do not even think of entering my room”.

He pointed at a notice stuck on one of the doors

‘No one will be allowed inside without the permission of Mr. Dhruv Singh’

He was soon gone, when Bunty said, “Let’s go to Bhaiya’s room”

It was surprising, though. While we did the assignment, Bunty and I became good friends. We talked about sports, food and the workload we have as we were now in the fifth grade. Then I noticed something.

“Does your brother chew?” I asked Bunty, pointing at the waste bin full of chewing gum wrappers.

“Him? Twenty four hours a day!”

“Does he play guitar”

“Yes. It is horrible. Yesterday, he lost a string in it. He was so sad.”

Finally, I got the culprit. I told Bunty, his mother and Shreya about it and got ready to welcome him. It was pretty soon, and as soon as Dhruv arrived, his mother dragged him to his study. We circled around him, who was seated in a chair, looking confused.

“What are you doing here, imprisoning me in my own study?”

“What were you doing in the bungalow?”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

“Were you and your friends making cacophonous mayhem in the bungalow?”

“What! We were just practicing our new song ‘Pain’”

 Bunty’s mother looked really angry.
 Poor Dhruv sighed.
We looked at each other.. and burst into laughter

.Arathi Menon

Bing - Bing - contd… Part 2

Bing - Bing - contd… Part 2

Jimmy’s eyes widened with disbelief. His eyes froze. It was hard for him to believe.  His thought unfolded to the events which led to the making of the Bing-Bing.  It was on Friday after work, that Jimmy was ordered to clean the dusty chest, which no one had bothered to open for years, let alone go near it. There were broken furniture and cob-webs around it. Jimmy, while cleaning, had ventured to open the chest. Jimmy had found this strange teddy bear with cute eyes. Due to age, it was torn in few places and the cotton had come out. But, Jimmy noticed that the thread was similar to the one that the old woman had given him.  He had sewed the torn parts of the bear with the thread given by Aunt McCrinky.  Jimmy shook his head to get the thoughts off his head.

       “A singing and dancing bear!” Jimmy exclaimed looking wide eyed at the sight of this extremely adorable bear “I just cont believe it!”

“As I expected!” exclaimed Bing-Bing “Aunt McCrinky told me so. Anyway, nice to meet you, sir. I am Bing-Bing”

“Hey! It was I who named you Bing-Bing!” Jimmy claimed.

“Oh, I forgot” said Bing-Bing “I am used to it”

“But..but, how did you get to talk to Aunt McCrinky ?” Jimmy asked “You were just an old worn out Teddy bear”

“Yes I was” replied the shiny red teddy bear “But the Bear had life. Aunt McCrinky gives life to all the toys she makes.  These toys reach the children who are lonely and long for being loved.  

“Wow!” exclaimed Jimmy “That was so nice of her. I haven’t seen anyone as nice as her”

Just then, to prove Jimmy right, came Ronny, his cousin. He was a big bully who snatched away all of Jimmy’s pocket money from him, which he had collected for his school fees. Ronny entered the room, slamming the door.

“Hee hee hee!” He laughed wickedly . He walked slowly with giant steps and suddenly, picked up Jimmy’s money box.

“You know, Jimmy, there is a rule in  this house. All what you belong is mine.” Ronny said with an evil tone “Now, give me the keys”

Jimmy tried to hide the keys of his money box in his pocket, but somehow Ronnie snatched it from jimmy’s hands.

“Now all your hard earned money is mine! Whooohoooaaahaaahaaah!” Ronnie’s laughter echoed the room. He eagerly opened the box. Just then, he turned his head to look at Bing-Bing, placed near the money box. He moved away from the box and moved closer to the stuffed teddy bear. His hands reached for Bing-Bing. A strange feeling crept through him. 

To be continued...
Arathi Menon

The All-rounder- by Arathi Menon

The All-rounder

The room was lit by an old, dusty tube light. The congested table was the source of a combined odor of medicines and fruit. The twins had their gaze sleepily fixed on their mobile phones.

           I was lying on a bed covered with a white sheet, in one of the rooms of a private hospital. It was after a minor accident which left my head and left hand injured. But that was not what bothered me now.

 “How are you feeling now?”

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I did not notice my mother entering the room.

“I am fine. What about him?”

“He’s got his leg sprained. He is still asleep. I do not know how he will take it. Appu! Ammu! Enough of it! Go to sleep!”

My heart started to bleed.

          My elder brother was always my role model. In fact, he was the role model for many, even my younger siblings, the twins and all my younger cousins. Why wouldn’t he be?

           He was a ‘straight A’ student and most of the time, the topper in his class. He is proficient in both classical music and martial arts. He was head boy in his school days and was studying in one of the best engineering institutes of our country. He had to quit the basketball team of his school to join the National Cadet Corps, and then became a Senior Under Officer in college. He took up engineering just because our parents and his teachers convinced him to do so. After taking up his degree, he planned to join the National Defense Academy.

          His role model was our father. Whenever anyone told him that he reminded them of him, his face would beam with pride, much brighter than any prize he had won. He was tall, with long legs and broad shoulders , and had grey eyes. Like my father, he stood out in every crowd. He had also inherited his deep and clear voice, and when he would recite mantras in the temple, a powerful grace in his voice makes it distinct from others. Our father was a General in the Indian Army and he wanted to follow his footsteps.

        But then, I had never felt comfortable with him. Especially when people compare me with him. I was never like him, nor like my father. But I tried to be like him. I joined every course he joined, and tried to inherit his mannerisms and style, but just ended up as a mere mimic. I shall improve when I am older, my mother would tell me.

       My brother was pretty short tempered. My imperfections did not go along well with my parents, and did not go along with him either. Whenever I fumble in the parade practice or turn up late or if anything did seemed untidy to him, his handsome face would turn red. I have heard a lot of his scolding, but never became immune to them. He would complain that I was clumsy and absent minded. He was a perfectionist, like my father and expected everything in our home in military standards. I would feel relieved when he would leave for his college.

      In one of his visits, he seemed really happy. He was selected for the Republic Day Parade, and it was his long time wish. He made sure that his preparations never lacked perfection.

       The night two days before the Republic Day of that year, he screamed at me for something that I do not remember now. Everyone stood on his side, and I had enough of it. I yelled back and stormed out of the house. I would never go back to that house where I was considered less inferior, I thought then.

       It was when I was walking on the pavement of a busy road, that I heard his voice. His long and fast steps got him closer to me. To avoid him, I decided to cross the road, and in the process, failed to notice a truck approaching me. Then I felt a bright beam of light and a strong pull.

     My elder brother had just saved my life, and in the process, sprained his leg. Those moments also smashed one of the biggest dreams of his life. I was certain that he would never forgive me, but had a strong urge to go to him and apologize.

    I walked into his room and saw our mother with him. He was sobbing hard on her shoulder. I had never seen him sob before. My mother stood up to leave the room, and all I heard her say was “I know you lost something important, but there are far more important things”. I chose to talk to him later.

    I refrained myself from his room later that day. The next day, I visited him. He was awake and looked okay.

  “How’s your hand” he asked me.

“It’s okay” I replied fast.

“The Republic Day’s tomorrow, is it?” he asked, his voice getting shakier, as a precursor to his tears. He wrapped his arms around me andcried softly.

“I…I’m sorry” I said, feeling guilty. He did not respond.

After a while, we talked for a long time about other happy stuff. And that was the first of many long talks we had

Arathi Menon

Writer Profile- Arathi Menon

Most of her topics are based on the lives of children and teenagers of present- day India. She has written a good number of poems and stories and maintains a blog named eXpressions. Apart from writing,she is also interested in music, movies, food and books. Her favourite authors include Khaled Hosseini, Amish, R.K Narayan and Roald Dahl.

Her most noted works are;

The Tree

The Last Summer Day

The All- Rounder

A Story of Kindness and Sincere Devotion

Virtual

Virtual

‘Nirvana is an excellent gamer and spends most of her summer vacation playing video games with her friends. That was why Naala, though least interested in video games, decided to start a gaming center, to collect funds for her higher education.

But, when things seem to go on smoothly, Nirvana gets into a bitter quarrel with her classmate Abhimanyu, who is also a gaming champion. Both of them participate for the ‘Gaming Champ’ contest hosted in the center, and is determined to win it. Six members are required in each team, and Nirvana requests her elder sister to fill the void. Naala had not played any video games before, and gets into a dilemma’.
Arathi Menon

Tommy- by Arathi Menon

Tommy

‘I first saw it at my tuition teacher’s house. I was not keen on spending my time on tuitions, when my friends were playing cricket outside, but this little black Labrador puppy was a great source of happiness. Whenever he saw me, his ferocious red eyes would sparkle. As days passed, it went on to become one of my best friends’

This short novel is about Srikanth, a young boy, and his beloved pet dog, Tommy.
Arathi Menon

The Polka-Dot Nation

The Polka-Dot Nation

Centuries back, a few Indian families set out to the Bay of Bengal, searching for a new home, away from the war and chaos of their homeland. They spent months in the waters of the bay and then the Indian Ocean, while their supplies finished as well as their hope. That was when they landed on an island, which from then became their home. A long time after discovering three more islands near the former, it has developed into a flourishing country that can run all by itself, but still unknown to the outside world……
Arathi Menon

My Sister and I- by Arathi Menon

My Sister and I

There could never be siblings that could be any more different. The wild, fun-loving and adventurous Nandha is a complete contrast to her gentle, shy and ambitious younger brother Gokul. And thus, there couldn’t be much peace between the two siblings.

But what happens, if Gokul finds himself not in a position he wanted to be in? And Nandha finds herself to be much different than how she thought she was? Will they then realize that they find out each other were right?
Arathi Menon

My First Novel- Chapter 1

Chapter-1

Writing had always been my biggest hobby. I started writing at the age of six. It started when I was asked to write about a pet cat in my composition book. Though I did not have any pets, yet I wrote about a furry white kitten. This was my first attempt at poetry.

Writing had always been a great source of happiness. Through it, writers express their feelings and thoughts about the world and society. But I preferred to write mostly fictional articles dealing with happy topics.

 As time passed, I started writing short stories. I was always fascinated by the way authors create and take us to a new world through their stories. Thus the desire to join them in their creation of happiness bloomed in me. That was when I decided to write a short novel.
Arathi Menon

Eating Out- by Arathi Menon

Eating Out

A square shaped room of a pizzeria. On the left was the kitchen, where about a dozen staff members, all in red and yellow uniform do the cooking and three staff member take orders. On the other side are tables and chairs, kept in a disorder manner, some occupied and three tables vacant. A group of teenagers enter the room.

“ Order what you like” said Sid “But get me something vegetarian”
"You came here all the way to eat vegetarian?" Jose exclaimed.
"You know, we are not permitted to eat non veg. Well, I don't see how that would affect you guys"
"Let him have  what he wants, Jose" Alok said " A medium sized veg pizza and a medium sized chicken pizza, please"
"A medium sized veg pizza and a medium sized chicken pizza" One of the staff typed "Is that all?"
"Yes"
"That will cost you 650 rupees, sir"
Sid, Jose, Vishal and Riya handed over their money to Alok. He took a 100 rupee note out of his purse and paid the bill.
"Wait!" exclaimed Rishabh "We  shall have chicken wings, four pieces.A piece of pizza would not fill my stomach."
A bottle of juice, please" Gauri ordered.
The group then puts together two tables and arranges eight chairs around it. Sid heads to the restroom.When he came back to his place, he noticed that his friends had already started eating. Vishal smiled at him.
"Where were you?"
"I was trying to be hygenic" Sid replied.
He sat down and took a piece of the vegetarian pizza.He saw Jose devour a chicken wing and lick its bone. His face turned pale. Alok noticed it.
" Ignore it Siddharth. Just sit back and enjoy the music"
"What kind of music is this?" exclaimed a voice "Do you seriously like it?"
It was from a middle aged man, seated two tables away, with his wife and son, a boy of about twelve or thirteen.
"Well, I like the the beats" whispered Alok, slowly and took a bite of his piece of pizza.
"You know, Sid" said Vishal, biting into a chicken wing "It's bad to kill innocent, harmless animals just to satisfy our hunger"
"Yes" Sid agreed "How do you manage to eat these stuff?"
"Like you manage to hog on idli-vada- sambar" Jose said " Pure vegetarian rice stuff!"
Sid was not paying attention to what Jose said. Instead, what bothered him was what the family discussed about.
"I was not very keen on having pizza today" the man said "But just because it's your birthday, Amey..."
"So, Satish, what shall we order?" his wife asked, trying desperately to change the topic.
"A medium sized mushroom pizza"
"Shall I have some cake too?" Amey asked his father. Satish frowned and whispered loudly to the boy "how fatter could you get?"
The boy got disappointed, and Sid felt sorry for him.
"Hey, Sid" Gauri patted him "Haven't you started eating yet? Rishabh, how can you be taking selfies while you eat! It's gross!"
"It's worse than this" Riya said "The next thing he would do is to post this in facebook"
Sid nibbled on his piece of pizza.
After the group finished eating, Sid headed to the wash basin. Satish was standing there, crumpling loads of tissue paper to clean his hands.
"Satish etta" Sid said "You could've taken your son somewhere else"
Satish was taken aback.
"It's lack of manners that caused you to eavesdrop"
"You brought your family here to celebrate your son's birthday. Then you cribbed all the time. You gave all of us, including your son an unpleasant experience. Now isn't that lack of manners?"
Satish pondered on what he for a while. Then he walked out of the washroom. His son stared at them.
After some time, the family was seated again on the table.
"Okay, which cake do you want?"
Amey turned back at Sid and smiled at him.
Arathi Menon

Digital painting- Mahabali

Arathi Menon