A Visit to Dream City

(This post is written and posted in collaboration with CouponDunia)
How many of you know that before I started living in the Cochin city, I had been leading the life of a part time apprentice , a post graduate student, a journalist, an art enthusiast, and a fitness freak in Kerala's capital city, Thiruvananthapuram? Long term readers must be refreshing their memories right now about my curious narratives that centered around my Thiruvananthapuram experiences. After reaching Cochin, the creativity never performed the same. That may be an understatement. I might be getting better feedback for my write ups written based on the life and times in Cochin than what I got for the stories about Thiruvananthapuram days. But, as I was growing up, the excitement at the end of each post was lessening gradually. Perhaps, that may be the reason why I think Cochin didn't inspire me creatively.

When The Movie was screened

However, I recently made a 5 days long visit to Thiruvananthapuram, the city where I believe I had my second childhood.  My short film 'The Movie' was screened in the Competition Section of the reputed Signs National Festival for Short Films and Documentaries. I found it as a good opportunity to go to the place which helped me grow practically, and see the changes happened since I left it before closely two years.

The journey was good, as Federation of Film Fraternity of India, who was the organizer of the fest, provided me two side train ticket and accommodation in an apartment. It was a great opportunity to meet some of the veteran persons behind the fest who belonged to the Art House stream of Malayalam cinema.

Let us leave the matter of cinema. I was feeling very nostalgic while walking through the once dear and familiar paths of Thiruvananthapuram. I passed through different places and corners of the city, where some of my beautiful memories were residing peacefully. When I went to the two storied building which was my dwelling place, I found no familiar faces, but that didn't disappoint me. Since I had no vehicle to travel on my own, many times I requested for two wheeler lifts, and majority of the Thiruvananthapuram men did not find it as a disturbance to help me. On such pinion rides, I glanced across the corners and places in a nostalgic mood which were once my hangouts.

Kings for Hire

As the celebrated childhood days had been undergoing its inadvertent fadeout, I suddenly woke up and started writing a playful animal story in order to rescue the magnificence of the immature days from dying away. As I recollected in my previous post, writing animal stories was the favorite pastime of my childhood days.  So, if I stop writing such stories, that simply signifies that I lost my childhood. I didn't want to submerge such a beautiful phase of my life into a bottomless chaos made of destiny, nature and time. And so, as a final attempt, I tried to scribble something. The outcome was qualitatively better than my prior writings, but it possessed only the one third of innocence that my earlier stories had done. Here is the synopsis of my last animal story written several years ago. It was written in the format of a drama, and was divided into five or more acts.

In the first scene, all the animals were marching to the daily conference that happens in front of the Lion King’s home. This particular day, they all were shocked hearing a news from the Minister Fox, regarding their greatly loved and adored King. According to a Messenger Monkey who reached that forest from one of the neighboring forests representing its aged reigning Lioness, the Lion King had to resign from the present forest, and had to take over the charge of the neighboring forest. The eldest of all animals was Uncle Bear, who had some memories regarding the claim by reigning Lioness of the neighboring forest. The Lion King’s grandfather actually was from the neighboring forest.  He had some quarrels with his father, so he came to this forest, with his wife and son (the Lion King’s father). The old Uncle Bear was a toddler then, and since he and the Lion Kings father were of the same age, they became great friends. As Uncle Bear claimed, it was him who named the Lion King on his birth.  

The Lion King also was very sad just like his subjects to leave the forest. But, as per the order of the forest, the words by the elder ones had to be obeyed. The most desperate one was the Uncle Bear, who always wanted his surroundings to be in order. A King to rule the forest (preferable a lion), was what he always wanted. So, he decided to do something to make the Lion King stay in the forest. Along with his two disciplines, a Cheetah and a Cat, he left the forest in the coverings of the night.  

The next day morning, at the daily conference, the Messenger Monkey came back to the forest to take the Lion King to the neighboring forest. The Lion King was so sad, and so were his subjects. But, the Messenger Monkey was so obstinate (there is even a synonym in Malayalam for obstinacy that is connected to monkeys), and he stuck on his claim raised by the reigning Lioness of his forest. Just then, the Old Bear, Cheetah, and the Cat, entered the conference area. All the animals were surprised seeing the three with two lion cubs. Uncle Bear informed the Messenger Monkey that he could took one of those lion cubs to his forest, but the Lion King should remain in their forest. The Messenger Monkey was okay with this suggestion. But, the cubs were not okay. They both were so scared seeing other animals and the greatness of the Lion King. They said they wanted to be neither the king nor the minister. Just let them go, they pleaded.

The animals were so curious seeing the awkward behavior of the cubs. Uncle Bear, the Cheetah and the Cat explained the animals how they got these two cubs. They found these twin lions from the circus company set among the neighboring human settlement. They attacked the tent in the night and rescued the lions and other captive animals, who were all on their way to that forest.

The animals tried to make the cubs understand the benefits of being a king. The lion kids initially were afraid of even the rabbit, but when Uncle Bear boosted them with courage, they understood they were lions and were destined to be kings. So, they went to the platform along with Lion King and the Minister Fox. The Minister Fox was just curious, so he mocked them to test their courage, but when the cubs roared out of anger, the Minister Fox got scared. So, the lion kids were ready to be the King. But who will go to the neighboring forest to take charge.  Initially both the cubs insisted the other one to become the king, but later they both wanted to be the king. 

The Uncle Bear solved this problem too. While waiting for the Cheetah and the Cat to bring the cubs from the circus tent, Uncle Bear had met another monkey from a different forest. The monkey also was a messenger, whose country also needed a lion king. Though Uncle Bear was not sure about the availability of more kings, he had asked the monkey to visit the Conference area the next morning.

Just then, the second Messenger Monkey also reached there. Seeing the celebration mood of the animals, he got surprised. Everyone happily invited him to the conference area. The cubs were ready to go to two different forests, after the Lion King assured them that the three forests would remain in friendship forever.

Long Forgotten Stories

The first month of 2013 is at its closure, but still I haven’t written anything for the year. People are there who think this is not an issue, but it is certainly an issue for me. While scanning the cobwebbed corners of my memory box for some past experiences that I might have missed while chronicling my childhood memories through this blog, I suddenly thought about a dream that I saw when I was very young.

That was the time, when I used to scribble childish stories for self pleasure. The dream I saw was something related to that. After writing stories motivated by the popular children’s magazines, I had this curious tendency to believe that there were some unwritten stories remaining in some of the bags and bundles of my childhood trashes in the house and its premises where I had my upbringing. The characters of my stories usually were animals and birds who thought, behaved and walked like human beings. But unfortunately all of my animal characters had an unjustifiable disgust towards the human kind. The names of those characters were very funny and at the same time silly, I remember.

More and more stories featuring the characters molded in the same replica were written, but was not totally satisfying for me. You wouldn't know the degree of crappiness you write, but still you have this dumbfounding belief that whatever you produced was no lesser than the classics. (I still have that belief!) There was a tendency to repeat the plot and type of characters in the following stories also, after finding an intimacy with a self authored story. Written stories were read, over and over again, and sometimes I was bored with the same kind of stories and narratives. Secretly I wished that if some other stories were kept hidden in some depths of my trash bag, which were completely or nearly forgotten, even though they were written by myself.

In my dream, I found a very old notebook with full of stories composed by a very younger me in a thoroughly illegible handwriting. But, I remember, it had that cuteness, which is peculiar to childhood days. I found it in a very awkward, very unlikely place. The season was the beginning of monsoon. Very small and moderately bigger springs used to sprout at some corners of our farmlands. The water was crystal clear, and the sight of its smooth flow with burbling sound was incidentally inciting thirst.  I found my forgotten childhood writing from within one of those springs which used to have their recurring appearance during rainy season, every year. When the rain was slightly down, I walked to a nearby rocky area, and found this old book lying open projecting some of those silly animal names to the world through the transparent water, as if its intention was to belittle my craziness in front of the whole world. 

After writing 100 plus blog posts, I feel that there are still many blog posts which are not completely by-hearted by me. You know, I have this curious tendency of reading my own blog posts time and time again till I find reading them one last time as a completely boring job.

Scent of Love: My Entry for the Get Published Contest

Every individual, who is passing through the universal experience called Love, feels it differently. Most of the persons, who possess an average level of social intelligence, handle their love or romantic experiences in a very light manner; by taking it as something like an emotion-made plaything. Some take it as a necessity, as a means of rescue from loneliness or rejection. There are persons who love for personal benefits, financial advantages, etc., whereas certain matured ones seek none other than their future life partner in their first love.

But, a last group of lovers interpret their love experiences in a creative way. Love may be a source of artistic inspiration for many of them. They make up fancies around their loved ones. Their five senses contribute largely to their intelligence in weaving imaginations concerning their lovers. And in their imaginations, the backdrop will always be set in cloud nine.

The Theme

Coming to this story, the elements that form parts of it are regarding just one of the senses - the Nose - by which the protagonist experiences and identifies love with different smells. The story travels through the life of the protagonist from the time of his school days to his college days. He had love affairs, and in every affair, his imagination around the person of love interest was centered on certain smells.  His olfactory glands were in full function when he was in love. Certain smells could create memories and virtual presence of persons in whom he had found that divine attraction. Don’t think only smells could make him romantically activated! Even music also was capable enough to transform him into that dreamy youthful romantic guy. But the influence of what he felt through his nose was higher than what he felt through his ears, as far as his experiences with his crushes and lovers were concerned.

This story is about the psychological role of senses in human relationships. Sight is always the dominating sense. But, this story deals with effect of smells in the protagonist’s love life. 

What Makes This Story Real?

This story is largely based on the emotional experiences of the Blogger himself during his fragile and frail periods of adolescence. It is not an imaginary or improbable one. Though the characters do not resemble anyone in the surroundings of the Blogger, certain persons have directly influenced the Blogger in order to act as the primary model for the formation of the characters. Creative persons used to experience nostalgia, so anyone who reads this story will hopefully be unanimous about the nostalgic aspects of the story elements.