All posts tagged: Short Stories by Narayan Tushar Kaudinya

Man’s search for meaning

When I returned to Ishbar that night, Shiban seemed speechless. But Dr Kaul looked at him with satisfaction giving an expression like “then he has seen.” And soon the moment came to explain to him what he had seen. We sat around fire, while waiting for the food to arrive. Open your ears, said Dr Kaul and he began speaking like reciting an over practised hymn. “The men in the east, he said, are trees; those in the south are flocks of animals; those in the west are wild plants. Last, those in the north like ourselves, who cried out while they ate other men, were the waters. When the collective sound of chewing filled the air, he started explaining about eating. The act of eating is a violence that causes what is living, in its many forms, to disappear. Whether grass, plants, trees, animals, or human beings, the process is the same. There is always a fire that devours and a substance that is devoured. This violence, bringing misery and torment, will one day …

A date with Pluto at Bijli Mahadev

Lets start from where we ended. For twenty-seven nights, I was the only one living in a wooden balcony that hung facing the jungle on a whole mountain. The moon that I saw on the forehead of a mother in the town, i saw a similar one on my lover. But her eyes were set against the only window the first night. Pink walls. She told me she wants to scream. Now! I said. She smiled. Fire. She kept looking in my eyes and started screaming. I closed my mouth. I opened my eyes. It was winters. It was cold. And you know when it is winters and when it is cold how heavy the rains hit. It confuses the heart. It was sunny next day. Pluto arrived. Nara, let’s go meet the man who sneezes forty times. He does that once daily. We left the two limping dogs behind. It was a beautiful walk. We reached. We sat outside Daulat Ram’s home in his garden on uncomfortable plastic chairs. An old brown cow whose …

When a wedding found me in Mumbai

I still haven’t been able to go out much here in Mumbai. Few days ago while having malai chai at a milk dairy I had started having a liking for, only because there was a peepal I could sit under. And secondly. unlike in north india where there is milk a plenty but there is no way you can sit and enjoy different variations of milk waiting. Mumbai seemed to be bathing in milk and moreover you could sit like in restaurants. That evening I had my camera as i had gone on a photographic walk around the Versova betty area. It seemed a beautiful day as i had hardly moved around mumbai studying it in images ever before. I can say that was my maiden image day for Bombay. After a whole day of making images around sea and standing ships, i was coming back to my favourite chai shop when i started hearing the sound of brass bands, drums. I followed that sound and found colours that were talking virbrantly. I followed the …

A meeting with the Frogs

Writing from Kaushik’s village home in Jhargram. Its night. Light has come after nine hours. I have cooked six packets of maggie. We both will eat it all tonight. Kaushik has gone to get McDowell’s. Its my last night. We are partying. I posted that letter to m. Meanwhile, something happened. Let me share this. it was magical – I am fortunate to have spent a memorable time during west Bengal monsoons. The blue sky behind the clouds had slept and drizzling took a break from firmly falling for days. I found sometime and went out for a small walk. The air was muggy. Balconies were empty. Drops were still falling from the sides of the roofs. Yellow bulbs have taken a stand and sounds were coming out of televisions. A little late a sole cooker spoke. I took the right turn. Once football field where i played on my arrival day five days ago had nature-d into a full filled country pond. I was awed to see the amount in which the frogs have gathered here. …

A monsoon in Bengal

State Highway number 9 Silda Football ground, West Bengal Sharing this letter i wrote to a dear friend while i was travelling for the first time through rural bengal. -. Rain was never far behind. This happened to be that moment of my journey. This tree felt home away from home. I knew it ended right there with this photograph. I realized home is calling. Travels have not been too comfortable but its liberating to learn that i could come to west bengal at this time. Clouds don’t seem to have much time to move ahead or to stop, they are moving in circles. Fields are just too green everywhere, and roads connecting villages too red. Pond’s are over filled, and women, girls in them makes me feel at times, its worthless to get educated and get conscious of your knowledge. The only thing one has to learn is the language of the world that has no place for words in it. And yes the cows, goats, buffalos, ducks, hen and chickens are in plenty …