The Beginnings

In January 2015 when the three of us started writing the blogs, we had no idea that we would last eight long years and pen over two hundred weekly pieces. Today marks the three hundredth edition of our blog and was wondering what to write. For our two hundredth, all three of us had contributed a small piece. We could not manage it this time so landed up sharing something written much before internet and blogs…..plain simple story writing and telling. With no WhatsApp and FB to support, we banked on good old India Post to deliver the stories.

It was 14^th of October, 1993 and I had boarded Rajdhani Express from Howrah to New Delhi. Apart from the luggage, I bought a good old drawing book and a set of Luxor sketch pens and made my way to my AC Chair Car seat. I had just been transferred from my original posting at Kolkata and was going to my hometown Delhi, leaving behind my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter and wife who would be joining me later. No sooner the train started, I began to pen pictorial stories with simple rhyming at places to make it sound interesting when the mother would read them out to the little one. During this seventeen-hour journey,  I was able to write four stories and some nonsensical rhymes associated with Ike, the mighty Dobermann, at my in-law’s house. Today, I share with you one of the stories with pictures of a few drawings. I call this three hundredth edition a joint effort again with the father writing, mother reading and daughter listening to the stories over and over again.

The Sardarji’s Senses

One night, Papaji, the Sardarji

Was driving his truck

Through a dark dense jungle

When a nail on his tyre got stuck.

Out went the air

And phuss when the tyre

Papaji put his hands on his head

And cursed his luck and the tyre.

 

With no workshop nearby

Papaji decided to stay in the truck

Till next morning when he’d look for help

But for the night

He shut the lock

And put off the light.

A tiger, Sheru, was in the area

Looking for a prey, he saw a strange object

Sheru wondered what it was

For a truck in a jungle was not an everyday sight.

 

Sheru roared aloud

Shivering Papaji woke up

Looked out and saw a tiger

In his seat he began to jump.

No I will not die

I will use my big head

Although a Singh- a Tiger, myself

With my senses I will fend.

Papaji switched on the headlights

Suddenly the whole place lit up

Sheru was taken aback

Cursed what a monster I’ve woken up.

What was this monster capable of

Who could light the forest with his eyes alone

Sheru tried to be brave

He roared aloud but it sounded like a groan.

                                        

Papaji now started the engine

Whrrrr…Whrrrr, it made loud noise

Sheru had never heard such sound

What a monster and what a voice!

Papaji saw the fear in Sheru’s eyes

And began turning the lights on and off

He made the engine sound louder

A frightened Sheru tucked his tail between his legs and ran off.

 

Next morning, Papaji fixed up another tyre

And started his journey again

In another part of the jungle

Sheru was telling other tigers of the monster he had met in the lane.

Just as he finished his horror tale

He saw Papaji’s truck coming that way

Papaji was afraid of the tigers

The tigers were afraid of his monstrous truck in the day.

Papaji again used his head

And began honking loudly

The tigers thought their end was near

So ran away fast cowardly.

Papaji laughed ‘Ha Ha- Mein Sher da Munda

Panch Sher maare’- awestruck his friends heard him and wondered.

MSD