MAKING OF MY STORIES AND NOVEL

               Making of my short stories and the Novel “ A Trek to unknown”

                                                          ( Part 1)

I am not a writer but a steno to my characters. That is my straight and simple confession to all the persons who kindly read my stories and the single Novel for  patiently for the entire content/  laugh at it/  throw it out in the waste paper bin.

Sometimes, a few among these kind persons either call or write to me. Most of them ask me what the background of the story is. I think a time has come up to blog about it than answer it individually.

As I go out from my residence to market/workplace/ and vice versa, my subconscious mind starts shooting. At night when I finally go to bed and close my eyes, the movie camera rolls back. I go on seeing the happenings of the day until a cold wave flows from the bottom of my leg and puts me to sleep. Any insomniac may try this.

However, in some night, this movie runs in a different way. As the movie progresses, suddenly a freeze shot appears. It could be a person of any age or a place.   I may be able to identify the person or place, but only the first part. In the later part, I see persons, inside or outside of a house or building, or some alien place or country which I have never seen before. Soon these persons start interacting among themselves. They talk, argue, smile, weep, cry, laugh and I listen to everything and very soon, I am compelled to get up. The characters start their activity once again and like a good steno, I write whatever they whisper among themselves. I cannot change anything on my own. If I do, they protest.

With this background I am now telling you the making of  two of my stories and the single novel “ A TREK TO UNKNOWN”.

The Story  “A meet with my would be” goes like this. To read the story, please click the following links. http://pradipwritenow.blogspot.in/2012/06/meet-with-my-would-be-kumar-biswas.html  

  

A property agent, during site visit finds that the current owner of this house Shantanu( a dam engineer and civil contractor) , was the same man with whom her marriage was finalized but could not take place. His mother died soon after the baarati party left for the marriage house and the marriage was postponed.  Shortly after this, Shantanu left his house and never returned.

While she was leaving, Shantanu explained that deaths in the family one after another made him too morbid to start a new life.  He avoided the marriage and ran away. She was not convinced but avoiding the argument, she only told herself “You fool, you should have come to me, I would have shared it and it could have been lessened or wiped out.” Just near the gate Shantanu saved her from falling. She thought they could have walked like that throughout the life but it did not happen Why?

Shantanu escorts her to Station to see her off. As the train was entering the station, the blows of whistle were as if the postponed tune of Shenai of her marriage with Shantanu.

This story dates back to 1980. I was doing prospecting work for copper in Singhbhum and stayed in Ghatsila and Mossabani area. Just near the railway station of Galudih( between Ghatsila and Tata) I saw a hill house on a flat land. One day I saw a couple coming down from that house. The woman was in front and the man was behind her. Suddenly she missed a step or so but the man extended his hand and saved her from falling. That day in the evening, while we were returning to our camp, our jeep saved a head on collision with a truck in the NH. Fortunately, only the jeep was damaged and we had only minor injuries and shock.  The accident site was near to railway station. We decided to catch a train from there to reach Ghatsila. The only train was in late midnight. I spread my body in a bench on the dark platform. I woke up on hearing some whispers in male and female voice. The female voice said, “You ran away like a coward, leaving me alone for whole life. I found you here but now tell me what to do” The man did not answer. A goods train was entering the platform and the engine light was flooding the platform. I now could see both of them clearly. They were the couple whom I saw in the day going down the steps from the Hill house. Who are these characters? Were they ex-lovers?

 In the following few days these two characters came in my dream who talked at length and compelled me to write this story. This was written in a bound field notebook and the last few lines were smudged. “Walking behind me, you extended your hand and saved me to fall. Like this, we could have walked in our life but it did not happen. Tears now rolled out from my eyes, no dam could prevent that, not even this Dam engineer.” While taking the dictation (not writing, as I said earlier) for this line from the character, tears rolled down my cheek and fell on the notebook smudging the last lines. I had to rewrite these lines. That’s what, happens to me every time, I also share their emotions.

 ( Continued in Part 2, the making of “ Feathers of Jungle Fowl)