I look at the series of mails from NFFD Write-in and shake my head. I was never to be a winner! I give up, about to get up from my chair, when my spouse, Jaya, comes near my table. One look at me and she knows that something is dreadfully wrong with me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made a face like that. I wouldn’t be so still!
I hear her calling out to our youngest daughter, Anushka, the next moment.
“Baba (she calls her by the same name that I do), come here. Baba seems to have a problem here.”
Anu knows the urgency in her mom’s voice, so she comes scurrying out of her room.
“Baba, have a look at Baba’s mail. There are some letters from somewhere and he doesn’t know what to do with them!” My wife urges her.
Anu tries to sneak-peak at the laptop from over my shoulder while I look away from it in helplessness, and outside through the window.
Just my luck! I have had high hopes of making a name for myself today by writing all 24 stories. After all, one doesn’t get an opportunity like this every day. But then the series of letters from NFFD about their inability to open my stories, has drained me out. Perhaps, next year or the year after, or better still – may be in the next life, I’ll have my share of fame.
My daughter picks up my mobile and start clicking some buttons.
“It’s done, Baba.”
“Done! What do you mean?”
“I have sent them the links successfully. Now they can read the stories.”
Suddenly, the birds outside start chirping and the day brightens up. Thank God, all my hard work isn’t going to end in thick smoke after all.
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