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An hour must have
elapsed, Shailaja fell asleep. Mohan got up and went to Rajeev's
room and put on the light. He was sleeping hugging a pillow. There
were four other pillows on four sides. He says it is a fortress
and that sleeping inside makes him secure and fearless. He
wouldn't say what the pillow that he is hugging is meant? That's
his secret.
By the side of the pillow lay the picture of the dinosaur he had
drawn. He has tried to make its face look prettier by colouring
it. Mohan stooped and kissed Rajeev's cute face, and then softly
licked his cheeks. He felt immensely
jealous of the dinosaur who watches Rajeev through the window and
licks his cheeks in moments of liking. He wishes painfully if he
could become a dinosaur that keep vigil at his bed throughout
night.
(Originally
published in Kalakaumudi Weekly. Included in the collection by
the same name, which won the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award.
Translated by the author.)
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The elevator was on the
ground floor, and he could walk in and press
the 8th button that will take him to his flat on the eighth floor.
He could sit in the sofa and remove his shoes and relax by
selecting any of the 30 odd channels in the TV and sipping the cup
of tea that Sarada has brought with Dosa or Banana fruit fry.
But he did not enter the elevator. He
retraced his steps and went out of the gates. He fished out
his purse from the pocket. Yes, there is a lot of money in it. He
could give one Rupee, or why not two Rupees? ‘What a
chicken-heart you have’, he asks himself. ‘What is two Rupees
worth these days. Is it worth a morsel of food?’ He took out a
ten-Rupee note and kept aside.
(Originally
published in Manorama Easter Issue, and included in the
collection "Pachhappayyine Pidikkan" or "To
Catch a Grasshopper". The story "The Greatest
Show" translated by E. Satish Narayanan.)
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She,
as usual, got out of her office at 5 0’clock. She opened the bag
that slung from her shoulder and felt for the duplicate key, just
to make sure. That key is meant to open door of another house, a
door of anxiety and nervous dithering. Her heart fluttered passing
through that gate. She climbed the steps of the porch and feigning
calmness opened the door. The tension that she has been suffering
melts and disappears as she passes through the door. She is alone
in the house. She secures the latch of the door and looks up every
room. Nobody! Though expected, that gave her immense solace. She
went to the bedroom and removed her sari. After carefully folding
it, she took out the night dress and went to the bath.
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t was then that he
noticed the girl on the rocks below - moving in a dance, the
dainty steps. Her loin was covered from the waist with green
leaves. Gracefully moving her full breasts and abundant thighs she
was dancing. Suddenly he had the delusional awareness of his
loneliness and his thoughts hovered around the insipid boredom of
his cave. .......................................................
.It was precisely then that something strange happened. The music
of the mountains came to an abrupt halt. In the void that
followed, he saw her - motionless - looking at him with imploring
eyes. His hands moved not. ..................
He ran up to her.
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(Originally
published in Grihalakshmi Weekly in Malayalam. A collection of
stories with the same title won the Kathapeetham Award, 2006.
Translated by the author.) |
(Published in the literary magazine "Sameeksha",
and translated by Dr. S.P. Ramesh. This story is included in
collection "Kumkumam Vithariya Vazhikal" or
"Alleys Sprinkled with Vermillion".)
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In
the taxi, which took them to their flat, it was comfortable. But
she was worried. She felt her abdomen with quivering hands, and
instantly convulsive sobs filled her breast and choked her. She
wanted to weep, lonely to her own heart's content. She wished if
her husband started repenting. But there was no sign of remorse on
his face. He was staring blankly through the windshield and she
felt desolate.
(Originally
published in Mathrubhumi Weekly, and included in the
collection by the same name. Translation by the author. A
telefilm was made based on this story and telecast in Dooradarshan. |
They were peering through the window,
stretching out on toes. Two old women, sisters. How many days have
passed in this waiting? The limbs are aching, and it looks like there
is a film over the already weak eyes that refuse focusing. They were
waiting there right from 2 noon to see her coming like a mix of
colours, through the street that is laden with light and shade.
It was a daily sight pleasing to the eyes over the past few months.
The figure that appears at the end of the street, like a spot mix of
colours, turns out to be a sari clad girl. The elder sister asks her
sister.
"Isn’t that she only, Ammukutti?"
The younger one takes one more look through the window and replies.
"It looks like her only, Sister. My eyes are worse than
yours."
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[The
story Cockroaches has been made into a telefilm by K. Jyothish
Kumar for Doordarsan, with Murali Menon and Remya in the leading
role. Screenplay by Atmaraman and B. Suneetha.] |
(Originally
published in Madhyamam Birthday 2001, & included in the
anthology "Anithayude Veedu'. Translated by the author.)
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The
bride’s guests gathered under the decorated canopy and around the
podium adorned with nirapara and coconut flower and jasmine
garlands that hung from the makeshift pandal, waiting
impatiently for the groom’s party to arrive. At one end of the
tent the nadaswaram musicians waited for the arrival of the
bridegroom to start the music. One of the girls sitting in the front
row got restless. The five-year-old, who was the bride’s little
sister told her friends.
"Come, let’s go catch grasshopper."
They have never heard of grasshoppers. "What’s is it that you
said ‘grasshopper’?"
"Come, I’ll show you."
They got up and went out of the pandal.
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‘You
need something, Annie?’
Shijo couldn’t understand the surprised look in Annie’s face.
‘Do you have stomach pain?’ Shijo asked once again.
She nodded in the negative.
‘Then?’
‘Sir, it is Jisy’s turn tonight. I came because she’s not well.’
‘Turn?’
She nodded.
‘Turn for what?’
‘Today is Tuesday, and it is her turn to come to you, Sir. The old
Warden Sir had made it like that. Tuesday it is Jisy, Thursday me,
Saturday Deepa and if in between he wants somebody he will tell it.
‘For what?’
The moment it was blurted out he understood the absurdity of his
question.
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(Originally
published in Malayalam Weekly in 1997, and included in a collection
by the same name.)
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Click
here to visit the page on translation of E. Harikumar's stories in
other Indian languages.
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Professor
Hameed was in a trance. Something is coming in search of him.
Something that is fated, but could not realise in what mode it is
coming. Far, far away beyond the limits of sky the lonely cat is
travelling in a casket. How can he find out whether it is living
or not? He will find a dead cat if he opens the casket, because
the moment it is open the cat would be dead. So how will he find
out the state of the cat? It was interesting to explain this
uncertainty to intillegent students who are responsive. He hated
an unfinished class.
He heard the adhan call from a mosque afar. When that consoling
sound came to him in waves Professor spread a mat on the floor and
sat down to pray. Oh, the God Almighty and All Merciful, why do
you make me suffer like it?
When he heard a knock at the door, the Professor got up. He knew
that it was not Ramachandran. At last is it coming to me? He went
to open the door. There was a postman in uniform.
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Translation
of Canadayil Ninnoru Rajakumari will be available shortly. Thanks. |
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