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UNFORGETTABLE CLASSIC STORIES – ADAPTED BY DEEPTI MENON

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  Amazon.in When I was a little girl, my Army dad was posted in Delhi, and I remember living in a bungalow that had several large rooms. In the peak of summer, however, we would place our cots outside in the spacious garden, with mosquito nets and a table lamp that would reflect the stars above. Those memories have stayed with me, and some days, I still hear my mother’s voice, narrating stories to me in the languor of the night. After a while, the sonorous sound of her beautiful narration, and the buzzing of the insects beyond the mosquito net would lull me to sleep. Three stories I recall distinctly – The Count of Monte Cristo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame and Rip Van Winkle. I loved these stories and wanted more of them… the suspense, the mystery and the unforgettable themes entered deep into my heart, and lodged there, till the day I began to write my own stories. Little wonder that I prefer to be called a thriller writer, and have my quartet of ‘Shadow’ stories to back up my p...
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THE SHOPPING BUG - - ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY?

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  Mirraw.com There are shopping trips, and there are shopping trips! Nowadays, shopping malls and supermarkets have mushroomed, with everything under the sun available under one roof. However, a good shopping experience depends on the luck of the draw, as I was to find out, rather piquantly! My two sisters and I once went to a particular sari shop to buy a sari for our mother, who happens to hold a record in being the toughest customer to shop for! With a walk-in cupboard filled with specimens of every hue and material, buying a sari for her is like carrying coals to Newcastle. In fact, like carrying red hot coals, to boot! When we entered the shop, we knew exactly what we wanted, and went about our task like bloodhounds after a clue. "Could you show us an onion pink sari, with a non fussy print, that drapes like a dream?" This was after we mistook the lone salesgirl for a mannequin, so still was she!  "Onion pink - what colour is that? Never heard of it!" T...
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LIFE ABOVE 60!

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  Pinterest “Hey, when are you going to behave like a mother-in-law?” The above comment hit me like a ton of bricks as I stood onstage, watching my only daughter flashing her million-dollar smile at the guests with her brand-new husband. It was a moment we had waited for all our lives, and suddenly, the sibilant stage whisper assailed my eardrums. It penetrated over the sonorous pandemonium of the ‘nadaswaram’, which often sounds like a nasal yet tuneful trumpet, if, and only if, played in the right spirit. On occasion, the said instrument has started on a particular note, and then, akin to a drunken bee, has meandered all over, hitting all the wrong notes, and the listeners’ ears, unmercifully.                                                                     nadaswaram image -mangalavadhyam.com The sibilant w...
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A GIFT LOST AND FOUND!

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  Clipart Library I stood on stage, tongue-tied and dry-mouthed, as a whole host of eyes looked on at me, waiting to hang on to my every word. I had begun Mark Antony’s famous speech with gusto, my “Friends, Romans, Countrymen…” ringing out, full-throated and compelling. Not for nothing had I spent days memorising every powerful word, while my ever so patient grandparents took turns to mentor me and encourage me. I knew the speech backwards, or so I assumed… Till that fatal moment when, after four lines which flowed smoothly, my fluency dried up, and my mind went blank. Mark Antony had lost his tongue this time to Brutus’ fluency. Shakespeare would have turned in his grave as I fumbled, trying to find light in the darkness that threatened to surround me. As a ninth grader, standing before a whole school of different graders, I wished the earth would open and swallow me whole. It took me less than a minute to rush off stage, tears rolling down my chubby cheeks. I had been slated to ...
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HABITS THAT HONED MY PERSONALITY!

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  Atomic Habits Quotes - Fun With Mama Even now I hear my grandmother's voice in my ear when I wake up in the morning and get out of bed.  "Remember to make your bed after you get up! It clears your mind and your physical space." Those words created a habit in me which I would never leave behind. Even now, when I see a messy bed, with tangled sheets, askew pillows and a crumpled counterpane, my fingers itch to set them right. I love hotels where the bedsheets are pulled tight with nary a wrinkle, sometimes with white towels folded intricately into swans, rabbits and hearts.                                                                                                          Vecteezy The other habit I picked up w...
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IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!

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  Vecteezy It gnawed at my innards in the middle of the night, forcing me to keep awake, my eyes staring as if they had been prised open with matchsticks. The shudder of the curtain in the translucent light that streamed in faintly through the window, accompanied by the sigh of the material  scraping  along the frame, made me shudder in empathy. Was it midnight yet, or the witching hour of 3 am, when shadows loomed and phantoms danced with their own rhythm? Who or what was the monster that kept me awake all night as I desperately counted sheep and did exercises to ease my aching muscles? The silence of the night grew unbearably loud as all kinds of dreadful thoughts whizzed through my mind. What if I had lost my powers? Powers that had made me different from all others… powers that I had honed from a young age! I felt like Superman would have felt had he been subjected to Kryptonite – innervated and powerless! The moon beams streaming in seemed to mock at me. “Lost yo...
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