Skip to main content

A quick tale 106

Lucky

She sits slumped in front of her telly, this woman whose name I forget, wondering why she has never won a prize. She casts her mind back to all the lottery and raffle tickets she has ever bought, all the coupons ever filled out and all the scratch cards ever scraped. And yet, she thinks to herself, the results have always been the same. Nothing. Better luck next time. Sorry. She sighs audibly, picks up the remote control and flips channels. Perhaps, it has something to do with my zodiac. May be it’s the star I was born under. Does one have to have a lucky mole or something? she wonders. Even Tracy next door told me that she won a fridge in a lucky draw. How come my name never gets drawn? she asks herself.

She changes channel once again. And lands on a show that is giving away a brand new car as a prize. To win, viewers need to call and answer a very simple question. She picks up the phone, dials the number and answers ‘America’ into the recording machine. She leaves her details and hangs up. She knows it’s the wrong answer. But what difference would it make?

Some days later, she sees Tracy driving a new car. She doesn’t want to know how she got it.

Comments

Pip Squeak said…
Does this commetn somehow stem from not wining the IndiBlogs award??
?! said…
Is it me or they did not see it? I found this DARK.

Good writing, but sigghhhhh.
Anonymous said…
As she is standing on the pavement,still pondering about Tracy's new car,she just witnesses one of the most gruesome tragedies unfold before her eyes.
Tracy,who had never driven even a two-wheeler in her life,tried her hand at driving her lucky new car and there she she lay as a vegetable ,peacefully on the road beneath the truck that she had drove straight into.

It didn't take much time for her to realise that it was the same entity called luck playing a different role this time!

She thanks her Gods silently for being unlucky!
Aparna Menon said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Aparna Menon said…
OH God...Dear anonymous...that is too much of moral science for a quick tale

I would definitely prefer that mysterious and eerie ending than "So what did you learn today" ending

:)
Mad Mad said…
& Continuing anonymous...

She thanks her Gods silently for being unlucky.
She crossed the road, the gruesome sight playing again and again before her eyes. She did not see the big red truck swerving, and did not see it coming straight towards her. She was too occupied thinking about Tracy and the car.

She did not feel the impact of the red metal hitting her. All she felt was a hot fire spreading through her, and then she felt bliss.

She thought, finally, I have won something!! My way to heaven.
Ganesh said…
Ammani good to see your blog active again. but again I am visiting this site after a long time :)
B o o said…
Only 65? Dhrohis!!! Anyway, thanks for thanking and in the banner too! I take it as a personal note. First time Im commenting here but at least I voted for you! :)
nqkjpieHi! Enjoyed Reading your Blogs. Nice site. Keep it up. Just adding to my bookmark and will be checking this site very often.

Indian Girl
Anonymous said…
oh dear,

sorry to say this...ur story was overshadowed by the comments of anonymous and mad mad.. hilarious

You May Also Like

Guest blog by Chinna Ammani

Here’s an interesting write-up by Chinna Ammani on stereotypical portrayals in Indian adverts. The opinion expressed is strong and the language uncompromising. Read at your own peril!-a

The Aiyaiyo Syndrome

These days I do what is called as a shooting supervision. When ads are filmed (with lip sync) in Tamizh, my job is to teach models their lines and rehearse with them. Most of them are from Mumbai and are non-Tamilians. So when they have to do a line in Tamil, for example "Adanaaladan Dettol ubayogikaren" (And that's why I use Dettol) , they invariably say "Aadanaladaanu naanu Detttaalu ubayogikkareanu" (Something hideous). Their exaggerated delivery of our supposed accent is all thanks to Hindi actor Mehmood. My blood pressure rises and I yell "DO NOT DO A MEHMOOD HERE. WE DO NOT SPEAK LIKE THAT".

Though their voice is dubbed later with a Tamil voice-over, I ensure that they pronounce it the non-Mehmood way. Mehmood has done this major damage to us So…

Bio-data

Married for 31 years, 2 months and 17 days
Six cups coffee a day, brewed everyday of marriage
Three meals a day,
At least two dishes cooked, each meal-time
One snack for every Sunday
Big basket of clothes ironed every Tuesday
Average 18 items of clothing washed per day
Three children
1 miscarriage
One mother-in-law suffered
900 sq metre of floor space mopped, once a day
One caesarean endured
3 chicken poxes, 2 measles, 2 fractures, 8 diarrhoeas, depression, conjunctivitis every summer, 1 tonsilitis and countless common colds and flues
1 job held for 29 years
6 hours slept every night
Sex tolerated every 2nd week
Religious rituals everyone of them, carried out
Not one of them, believed in
Lived 52 years and some
Died exhausted

Overheard, “At least she had the satisfaction of having lived for her family”


http://jikku.blogspot.com/2005/02/quick-tale-3.html#c111042815438237631

The Saturday Poem

Found this in yesterday's paper. Again, I wish I'd written it.

-a

Now and Then

"Now that I'm fifty-seven",
My mother used to say,
"Why should I waste a minute?
Why should I waste a day

Doing the things I ought to
Simply because I should?
Now that I'm fifty-seven
I'm done with that for good."

But now and then I'd catch her
Trapped in some thankless chore
Just as she might have been at
Fifty-three or fifty-four

And I would say to her
(And I have to bite my tongue)
That if you mean to learn a skill
It's well worth starting young

And so, to make sure I'm in time
For fifty, I've begun
To do exactly as I please
Now that I'm thirty-one.

-Sophie Hannah

Lost in Post

To a little boy

It cannot be easy being you. A follow-up act to your more devilishly charming, flamboyant older brother. Before you were born, I was convinced that no child could ever take the special place your brother had come to occupy in my life. I used to argue with your father you would always be a second-born. A runner-up. A bridesmaid (or a best-man, as you turned out to be). That you could never be the prized, cherished, celebrated apple of my eye that my firstborn child was. But how easily you tore down my flimsy little conviction. The minute I saw you, I knew I was gone. What was worse, I succumbed willingly.

My fears that you would be overshadowed by your brother have proven unfounded. Over the past year, you have come into your own as a person. Your brother demands and challenges our love and attention. You, on the other hand, are much more accepting of our distractions with him. It is almost as if you understand that he is used to being the star of the show for much of his…

I ask, you write

Okay, here's the idea. I ask you a question and you write a short story explaining it. Let me give you an example.

What happened when young Padmavathi was drawing water from the well to wash her clothes, early one Margazhi morning?

Annon's story

One morning when Padmavathi was drawing water from the well, she found Pettai Rowdy # 1 Govindarajulu inside the bucket! She dropped it at once and Govindarajulu went down and down and hit the bottom of the well with a Nung sound. His upper and lower teeth fused together and since then he has been fed intravenously. Pettai Rowdy # 2, Ragothaman Iyengar, who suggested this to Govindarajulu, now rules the roost.

After marrying Padmavathi, he is inviting all of you to a water drawing ceremony at the new well they dug in their house.

Jai Ragothaman Iyengar! Jai Padmavathi! Come one, Come all!

-

Here's a question for you.

What happened that made young Meenakshi change her mind about the parrot green saree she had originally chosen and go for a …