Second post about author, Dinesh Verma’s journey as a writer
‘My
Times My Tales’ and its Hindi Version
‘Mere Samey Ki Meri Kahaniyan’
As
we move through the passage of time, we come across one incident or the other
on our way, and while most of them slip into oblivion as a passing phase, a few
of them cling to us as part of a precious treasure. Such happenings keep
lingering in the recesses of our minds aching to be expressed through our fond
medium, be it a piece of art, a lyrical composition, a novel or a short story.
Overtaken by desire to express myself on episodes which either touched my inner
chords or stirred my sensitivity on matters of relevance to society, I chose to
articulate my thoughts and feelings in the form of narratives. My book ‘My
Times, My Tales’ is a compilation of 27 such tales which I have articulated to
share with learned readers. Here are flashes of some of them.
Long back I was catapulted into travelling by a passenger train which was 24
hours late, but the journey, instead of being irritating, became a memorable
experience which I narrated in my tale ‘Delusion
of Appearance’. ‘….Far from being averse to its stoppages at short
intervals, I started enjoying the journey for its leisurely movement, crowded
and yet specious. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry, not the train atleast. I
could look at the faces that spoke volumes, heard peals of laughter reflecting
carefree attitudes, eyes that wept without trickles of tears telling tales of
want and misery. It brought me face to face with the bitterness of human
existence ………’ But it was for a sharp bitter pill which I had to swallow at the
end of it that the journey became memorable.
On another occasion, while travelling from Kalka to Delhi by Himalayan Queen
with friends’ families, I observed the conduct of a limping vendor in the
compartment whose movement created thud thud sound that irritated initially but when I watched his dignified conduct from
close quarters I found it to be sound of
self-respect. I narrated it under the title ‘Dignity of a Limping
Vendor’: ‘….. As he moved from one row to the other on his single leg with
his head held high, it seemed to me that the famous philosopher , Henry Ward
Beecher, perhaps had this proud man in mind when he uttered his famous
words: It is the heart that makes a man rich. He is rich according to
what he is, not according to what he has.’
In one of the tales ‘My Encounter with Ghosts’, I have narrated an
incident that would have left me a die-hard believer in the existence of ghosts
but for timely disclosure that saved me from falling into pit of superstition.
It was the middle of the night. ‘…….As I entered the labyrinth of the old
market complex, my bicycle suddenly came to a grinding halt, as if stopped from
behind….I quickly checked the bicycle and found nothing wrong…..I was already
jittery….I looked around like a dove caught between hounds. The more I thought,
the more I felt the horror of the rhythmic steps of ghosts dancing around me
with mocking gestures…….’
Having lived now in Delhi for decades, I have no hesitation to admit what I
have stated in my satirical narration, ‘Delhi: Paradise of spirituality’,
‘….it occurs to me at times that great saints whose quest for eternal truth
took them to the difficult terrain of Himalayas to undertake extreme penance
for attaining eternal salvation, the Moksha, only wasted their time and energy.
They could have easily achieved their spiritual goals if they had lived in
Delhi as a common man……….
Every time I have to go to a medical practitioner, I come back with an
experience that forces me to recall doctors of my childhood days. The extract
from the write up ‘Dr Commonsense’ indicates the reason ‘….there were
many in those days like Dr Shambhoo Nath whose primitive style of treating
patients, based on their extraordinary level of commonsense, was
tolerated because it made up considerably for modern day technological
advancement and over commercialization of the profession ….’
And every time I read in the newspaper report about parents taking teachers to task for having punished their
children for mischief, I cannot help recalling the teachers and parents of my
school days, for, in my mind there linger the words of my mother about the
attitude of my father on the subject which
I incorporated in the story ‘The Sweet Bitter Pill’ ‘…..He deliberately
thrust the bitter pill down your throat because he wanted to nip in the bud the
sickness of indiscipline setting in you. He was least bothered whether the
teacher was right or wrong ……He never wanted his children to grow disrespectful
and impertinent towards their teachers whom he placed on a much higher pedestal
than even the parents.’
Then there is the story of ‘An Angelic Commoner’ about whom the more I
thought the more I became convinced that while there is enough of depravity to
lead one to sink deep down to unfathomable depth of dirt, there is no dearth of
goodness as well that touches the topless tower to beacon the earth with its
sharp soothing brightness.
There is also an interesting story ’Trapped
in a Ring’ that narrates the journey of a simple ring purchased for Rupees
Twenty from ganga ghat by rings-lover Guruji which becomes fascinating ‘cosmic joke’
perpetuated with macabre sense of humour.
And
in the same veins have been written some other tales like ‘An Unusual
Burden’ and ‘The Bag of laughter’. There are many more in the book,
each one with a different colour and flavour.
Going by growing demand for Hindi version of the these
twenty seven short stories, I got
published the Hindi version of the book under the title ‘Mere samey Ki Meri
Kahaniyan’ which also came on selling platformst.
Links
on selling portals for the book ‘My Times My Tales’:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.in/dp/9357477225?ref=myi_title_dp
Flipkart: https://www.flipkart.com/product/p/itme?pid=9789357477222
Links for the book ‘Mere samey Ki Meri Kahaniyan’:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.in/dp/9362521105?ref=myi_title_dp
Flipkart: https://www.flipkart.com/product/p/itme?pid=9789362521101
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