Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Congratulations, ARR & Resul Pookutty!

And now, for no reason other than to show off, here's a photo of my son and ARR taken at Heathrow last summer.

Monday, February 16, 2009

A worthy winner

I was one of the finalists in the Flash Drama contest at Kala Ghoda Arts Festival. I didn't win. But look who came third! Congratulations, shoefiend!

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Chaddi Ho!

Finally, Valentine's day gets interesting. With the Pink Chaddi Campaign.
Join in and spread the word.
Show the bullies who wears the pants in this tussle. Details here.

Saturday, February 07, 2009


Theme: Cheating
Word count: 55


Alright, so I don't look like my photo. The hair's different and the waist is not what it used to be. Okay, so the photo was taken when I was 16. Okay, okay, the girl in the photo is not exactly me.
She's my cousin. Your ad said you were handsome. Who was it describing?


This is one of my entries for the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival. My other entries are here. If you wish to enter the competition, details here. Hurry, deadline Sunday 8th Feb 2009.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Flash Drama

Theme: Truce
Word count: 350

Fair Trade

Mother with twin wailing babies.

Phone rings. She grabs a child, cradles phone receiver on crook of neck.


Good evening, madam.

Who’s calling?

Is that Mrs. Krishnan?

Who’s calling?

I’m calling from Eternal Insurance of…



Mother asleep on sofa. One baby asleep on chest. The other nestled in her arm.

Phone rings. Mother wakes up with a start. Feels around for the receiver.

Fuck off!

She collapses back on sofa.


Mother is sitting on living room floor playing with kids. Phone rings.


Am I talking to Mrs. Krishnan?

Yes. Who’s calling?

Good evening, madam. I’m calling from Ignite Gas and Electricity company. Would you like to save on your gas and electricity bills every month?


Mrs. Krishnan, you can save nearly £500 every year by simply switching your service provider.

I don’t care.


Phone rings.


Mrs. Krishnan, it’s me again…from Ignite…

Listen, you’re wasting your time…

Madam, please listen to me.

No…what’s your name?


What’s your Indian name?

Mmm…Sundar Ramaswamy.

Listen Sundar, I’ve no time for telemarketers. So stop calling me.

Mrs. Krishnan, are you also from India?


From one Indian to another, can I ask you a small favour?


Madam, I have an elderly grandmother at home and my wife’s pregnant. If I get your contract, I get a small commission. My mother has arthritis and it will go towards her knee operation.

Hmm…you get your commission…what do I get?

You get the best electricity and gas prices in the whole country. And we have capped our prices. So no increase for the next two years.

No, what else do I get?

You get excellent service including…

(interrupting) Sundar, did you say you have a grandmother?

(hesitantly) Yes….

My baby cries non-stop in the evenings…wind, I think. Can you find out from her if there’s a home remedy…call me tomorrow...same time.

Mother on the phone taking notes.

Powdered asafoetida? With honey? Mix the two and rub it around his tummy, is it? Okay, okay. Now, how do I transfer my account to you?


This is one of my entries to the flash drama contest, part of the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival. Details here if you wish to take part. Deadline 8th Feb 2009.


Theme: Cheating
Word count: 55


I watch you tuck into the lasagne noisily. It dribbles down your chin. You chew away. Mmm, you say approvingly. I don’t think you’d want to know the recipe. You scrape the bottom of the pan and empty it onto your plate. The dog will starve tonight. I can only feed one of you. Sadly.


I hunt every last one of them. It’s a surprise attack. I strike on a Tuesday morning. Not on a Sunday when they’d have expected me and gone into hiding. I watch their blood spill and feel proud. It’s a victory for humanity. My predatory instincts are on a high today. Another down. Bloody nits!


You’ve always hated them. So I don’t tell you where we’re going. You walk ahead of me. Your legs barely supporting your weight. You stop to catch your breath. You bump into trees. You don’t hear me calling out. I carry you inside. I lay you down on the table. It’ll be over soon. Sorry.


These are a few of my entries to the 55-word flash fiction contest, part of the Kala Ghoda Art Festival. Detail here if you wish to enter.