Harikumar Edasseri
2013
‘Where are my stories?’ Her mother asked ’Oh that?..... Are they stories?’ ‘Yes, where are they?’ ‘What type of stories are they?’ Mother asked with a smile on her face. That question sounded silly like asking what kids are they to a mother. ‘What all have you written. I tore them off.’ ‘Tore them?...... My stories?’ Suchitra could not control her agony. The estrangement and insensitivity of the postmodern writers are confined to their stories alone. In personal life, they are full of emotions and senses like any other human being made of flesh and blood. Or else why mix up the creations and the personal life of the creator. Crying aloud she ran to her room bolted the door and lay down crying. She did not open the door even though her mother kept knocking at it repeatedly. After a while she got up, pulled a sheet of paper from her Social Science notebook and started writing under the banner ‘Female butcher’ and her very first sentence was naturally ‘Mother is an evil character’. (Stories with Evil Characters)
Read this work at the World Public Library (library card needed).