I’ve not had enough time to write here as much as I would like. (It goes without saying that its less due to me not having enough time and more that i’m not managing it properly.) Its also been difficult to write about things I am passionate about. For example, I could write reams about my daughter, but I know it would devolve into me sounding like a gushing father who can see no wrong in his kid. Also, I wouldn’t want to write too much about my private affairs, especially my daughter, as there is no need to put all my feelings on a public forum. So what is left to write about?
This is where my cousin Sudhir came to the rescue. On our recent flight to Jaipur, our discussion gave birth to a pretty interesting idea on what to write!Sudhir, currently a college student, had written a couple of nice stories when in school and wants to get back in the habit of writing. While it might seem that we are in similar boats, he’s actually a far better captain as he has actually plotted a course, unlike me, who is paddling his canoe in a haphazard manner while consulting zero navigational aids. He’s written (in my view, of course) quite an evocative story prompt!
What we decided on that flight is the following:
- We will each write a story based on the story prompt.
- The story prompt will be the first paragraph of each of our stories.
- The title of the story will be “Sethji”
- The story can be of any genre, any length, written in any style.
- We will submit the stories in a month, so lets say on the 1st of June.
While in Jaipur, while chatting with Krishna, my brother in law, I happened to mention this idea to him and encouraged him to join in. Happily, he agreed and will join our amateurish efforts, taking the count of terribly written stories that will be posted on this blog to three!
I would be happy if others decided to join in as well. Just let me know!
Finally, here’s the story prompt!
“It has to be done”, Samar said, breaking the tense silence that had engulfed the conference room of Bhagwati Mansion. Sethji stood in silence facing the window, staring out into blank space. The wrinkles on his inscrutable face became even more defined as golden rays of the evening sun scattered itself all over it. Age had only refashioned the once muscular and zealous lad into an experienced and wise leader. He gently lowered his chin, with the poise of unwillingly accepting the inevitable, as the cortège of his most trusted men awaited his response. He closed his eyes, knitting his eyebrows together; he had come too far to let it all go now. Sethji breathed heavily as he turned toward Samar, placing his fist firmly on the polished wooden table. His hesitation had now transformed into uncompromising sternness as he stared stone-faced into Samar’s eyes.
“Kill him”, he said, clenching his teeth together.
Let the writing begin!