Where the Rain is born  – Anita Nair  #BookReview

Where the Rain is born – Anita Nair #BookReview

Rain is synonymous with Kerala.  As a Malayalee (person from Kerala),  I naturally love the monsoon rains.  The title itself drew me to the book.  This is not just one book.  It has many books within it.  The book is a mixture of 34 fictional stories, poems, non-fiction,  essays,  POVs from writers in Kerala,  or writers writing about Kerala.  Also, all the stories are not about rain.

The book starts off with the first story which tells us about where the rain is born.  This short non-fiction account is taken from the book ‘Chasing the Monsoon’ written by journalist and travel-writer Alexander Frater.   He recounts how he witnessed the rain being born at the southern-most tip of Kerala.  He is at the Kovalam beach with a bunch of weathermen, journalists and other enthusiasts.  The south-western monsoon clouds make it’s first landing here and thus the rain is born.  This place Kovalam is just about 50 km from my hometown Varkala.  Thus we probably see the first monsoon rains in India and never even knew about it.

Next is a short fiction by Shashi Tharoor called ‘Charlis and I’.  I loved the way the author has woven the progress of the different castes through the various policies in Kerala.  But still, it is a simple, heartwarming story about a few boys.  His language is impeccable.  On a similar vein is the story ‘A village before time’ by V K Madhavan Kutty. Continue reading

Rewind #FridayFictioneers

Rewind #FridayFictioneers

Jim drove on ignoring the thumbs.  Get your own car, he thought.  He  saw her while changing the radio channel.  Pretty girl in blue asking for a lift.  He stopped the car.

Her car broke down she said and rambled about some meeting to attend.  Jim just stared back.  She reminded him a lot of his ex-wife.  He opened the car door.  She got in and continued grumbling about her car.

Shut up, he thought.  But she didn’t.  Just like his ex-wife.  He felt the heat rising to his face.  His right hand itched.

He regretted it later.


Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by Kent Bonham.

Writing also for #WritingWednesdays from Write Tribe.  

Fish out of water  #DiaSameer #FridayReflections

Fish out of water #DiaSameer #FridayReflections

Sameer peeped into the kitchen to see Dia holding a cabbage in her hand and staring outside the window.  He waited a bit longer to see what she was doing.  After some time,  seeing no action,  he entered the kitchen and hugged Dia from behind her.  She shrugged him off.

‘Please,  can’t you see I am trying to do something useful here,’ she said picking up the knife ready to attack the cabbage.

‘But you were just staring outside.  Do you know how to cut this?’

Dia looked down and shook her head with a tear ready to escape her eyes.

‘Come,  watch me do this’

‘But,  amma will see you in the kitchen,’  she protested.

‘But, amma also sees you working outside,’  he retorted.  ‘The heavens will not pour if I cut this cabbage.’

He took the cabbage,  sliced it expertly into two.  He put it on the chopping board and started making first vertical and then horizontal cuts.   It took him about 10 minutes to completely shred it into small bits.

‘There.  Now you can do the rest,’ Sameer said and gave her the chopped cabbage.

Dia hugged Sameer and thanked him for helping her when she was a fish out of water.

And Amma, who saw it all,  was proud of her son.


Dia and Sameer, a geek and non-geek couple.  These stories are short snippets on their approach to daily life.  This story is definitely inspired by a real life incident. Do you know people like them?  Do share the stories with me. ***  

The characters Dia and Sameer are fully imaginary.  Any likeness to people you know is purely coincidental.   The views are the characters’ own and light-hearted.  They are not endorsements.


Linking this short story to Friday Reflections.

This week’s prompt is ‘Fish out of water’. 

Lost     #FridayReflections #shortstory

Lost #FridayReflections #shortstory

Image courtesy : Pixabay.com

I felt the constriction in the chest.  It felt like dead weight on my throat. I couldn’t speak.  My  eyes widened but I couldn’t see.  It felt tight.  The tears still dry.

Not now.. not now.  Let me get home.

Thank God, today everyone is busy.  Even the receptionist who would otherwise have been just painting her nails.

I wish today was another day when I could have shut out everyone and cried?.

Roma had called frantically.  ‘Sumit is engaged,’ she said ‘and you did not tell me.  I thought you are still a couple.’ Continue reading

Never in My Name #NotInMyName

Never in My Name #NotInMyName

A Muslim friend of mine,  raved and ranted about the killing of 16-year-old Junaid in Delhi.  He forwarded a message which was spewing with hatred and accused all Hindus of being the killers.  This was not an illiterate or impulsive youth.  This is a perfectly sane, educated, middle-aged family man who is also a Doctor.  Where did this hate come from? We have spent years together sitting on the same bench as classmates and never hated each other.

There was no way I could think of comforting him.  But, it showed his deep insecurities living in a country in which he and his ancestors were born.  He was worrying about a future for his children who belong to this country.  Where should he go?  Who will comfort his fears?   When did it become ‘them’ and ‘us’?  Weren’t we the same?   Continue reading