Fanstory - a tryst with writing

There is nothing that doesn’t exist on this Internet. If you are wondering about a place which acts as an entrepot for English writings, there indeed are many where you can review others’ works, submit yours and get them reviewed, and above all, get a strengthening feeling of belonging to the literary group.

One such distinguished site is FanStory. It not only has a vast collection of submitted items, but also can boast of a very high quality of them. Some are really good writers, having already published a few creations. You also get a very critical review of your works, right from the content critique to the language and grammar inspection. Obviously for submitting the writings, one has to be a Premier Member which one becomes by paying a nominal fee.

Anyway I believe the best judge is the user only. But it is definitely worth a try, if one wants to peruse and practice some literary stuff.

Writing Wistfully

My legs on the familiar City Cue Road
Hurrying to Mr. Gupta's medical store
Which lay by an anfractuous alley
Surprisingly called 'the Sidhi Gali'


I stopped and stood there for a moment
Looking nostalgically over the bend
Eyes searching for the lil schoolgirl
Who had luxuriant hair with a curl


Attired immaculately,swaying a thermos
There she walked with minimum of fuss
Watched over rickshaw's flap by a boy
Who otherwise was very simple and coy


He wished to marry this girl someday
Sans knowing what marriage was itself
'Ritu is her name'-he told her mother
Who's amused at kid's puerile nature


I was waken of my reverie by a bike
Horn beseeching to give it the side
Shaking my head with a disported smile
I marched forward for things to buy


Mr. Gupta,a man with frizzy grey hair
Looked at the slip rather over and over
When he moved to fetch those medicines
I retrieved my wallet to check my means


Presently, aura filled with a fragrance
Redolent of a young dame's presence
Yes, I was right-as you better vide
A winsome lassie standing by my side


Eyes star-gazed and cheeks rose-hazed
She was verily a beauty incarnate
When she spake,voice knitted with purls,
Oysters crackled to reveal the pearls


"Uncle,can you give these meds please"
'Sure', he gave her preference to me
"Two hundred twenty six rupees",he said
While he ordered his adjunct to attend


She took out a five-hundred rupee note
Grimacing,this was all she had in store
Looking demurely around for some help
Her eyes met mine asking for the change


The sparkle glowing beneath those eyes
Evocative of the misty days flown by
How I hankered, she was really her
Returned to her ever-waiting lover


I earnestly gave her the needed money
With eyes never let off my sweet honey
She took it with usual thanks-giving
While Mr Gupta gave her the things


"How was your Diwali Ritu", he asked
"Great", she replied and walked past
"Oh did I really hear Ritu",I thought
With her familiar gait slowly brought


I was struck still wondering about her
And kept gaping till she was nowhere
Finally I ran over to her frantically
But I lost her in the milling alley


I seacherd for her, but she had exited
Oh, I didn't even know where she stayed
Last,I walked out with a hint of sorrow
But with hope to see her again tomorrow


I kept looking for her slightest treat
Sitting at the bench opposite her street
But with half day past, I under duress
Walked to Mr. Gupta to ask her address


He gave me, at first, a questioning look
But then himself guided me over the nook
I reached a home,long standing in its pen
But finally knocked,expecting her to open


Instead greeted a lady in braided lace
Looking quizically over my puzzled face
'Is Ritu at home?' I did manage to purr
'I am her friend,' explaining it to her


'Sorry beta'she has already left today
For her Medical Course in the College
'Where?'I wanted to ask, but withheld
Knowing it doesn't matter at this eld


I had lost her, before I could even find
A few things are meant to be within rind
I told to myself, and slowly trudged off
Drearily wondering about my love lost


I don't know whether it was love even
For she never heard my heart's refrain
O Lord! I only wish, to meet her again
And let her know all these years' pain

Collective singular or individualistic plural?

Finally I found someone else too wondering about an English conundrum long vexing me. Consider this:-

“We have got noses on our faces”

Does the above statement mean, 1> We each have more than one nose and one face 2> We all combined have more than one nose and one face.

Obviously it has to be second option. But what about this then:-

“We have fingers in our hands”

Does the same argument still hold true?We might never bother to reason or question these, because semantically the intent is very clear. But if we follow it pedantically, then there is indeed something vague and goofy here. I have tried to find out the correct forms of words in these types of sentences, but to no avail till now.

Anyhow I have devised myself a simple rule. If the ‘noun in question’ is collectively referring more than one number, then it has to be in plural, otherwise in singular. For example:-

“The boys are going to their house” – The boys live in the same house
“The boys are going to their houses” – The boys live in different houses

The above rule has worked for me till now. Semantically the expressions are clear, and grammatically too, I believe, they are now unambiguous.

Most Beautiful Words in English

It was such a delight, when I read somewhere that one girl liked the word 'beauty' the most because of the way it sounds. Really 'beauty' is such a great and mellifluous word. So, what can be even sweeter - the most beautiful words ? I googled to find whether anything like this is even discussed. To my no-surprise, there exists a polled-list of the most beautiful words in English. Here are the top ten:-

1. Mother
2. Passion
3. Smile
4. Love
5. Eternity
6. Fantastic
7. Destiny
8. Freedom
9. Liberty
10.Tranquility

The selection is hardly surprising, for all these words do exhibit emotion, spirit, belief and peace. And indeed they are beautifu, aren't they?

My favourite cricket journalist

I would be considered another schooled reader, if I say that Sir Neville Cardus is my favourite cricket writer. He is the doyen of cricket journalism, but I haven’t ready much of him.

It is a mere reflection of times, but it does suggest something. The writers have to be relevant to the topic and time. That’s why a guy named, Osman Samiuddin, is my favourite cricket journalist. He writes on Cricinfo but he not only writes but also creates.

He is Pakistani, so he was initially assigned to write on Pakistan cricket only. He brought out the party and poignancy of Pakistan cricket in no uncertain terms, and it was a joy to read his articles. Call it a quirk of fate or misery, Pakistan lost out on much of cricket last year, so his articles became less in number. But still he came out intermittently with some amazing writings, probably better then before.

His last one is both straight and shrewd. It is also hilarious and metaphorical.

Money Talks, Money Shrieks

Who the hell would have thought that Pamela Anderson, Dolly Parton or Muntazer Al-Zaidi (whoishe) had something to do with cricket? You wanna know, go through it. But also don’t miss the cricketing insight and information in between.

Free Rice-What a concept!

I was immediately struck by the concept of Free Rice, when I had heard about it last year. What more can you ask for? Donate rice, just by answering Vocabulary questions. In the process, you also improve your vocabulary, and mind you, if you think that it is another run-of-the-mill affair, try scoring more than 45. I played the game very regularly, and it was obviously driven both by my penchant for learning new words and by my ever-bubbling quest to do something philanthropic. I don’t know why the visit to the site died down subsequently though. Probably my preoccupation with other stuff played its part.

When I happened to visit the site today, I was pleasantly surprised to see the site grow not only its content but also its reach. There are more subjects, viz. Mathematics, Language, Geography, Chemistry etc to choose from, and their levels are good enough to cater to and also teach every group of people. Further I read and saw the success it has already achieved. Widely hailed by media and people alike, it has reached to the neediest zones in the world. The most promising part is that the site can only grow bigger than here.

I feel an obligation, thus, to promote it. I had already shared the link with some of my friends. But now it needs to go out to the world. Play, enjoy, learn, donate and feel better. That’s its mantra. The Internet never ceases to amaze me.

Time to say, two and two is four

A few things, seemingly of passing nature only, can apprise you more than the calculated ones. They are more honest and humble too; and create that self-cognizant view that you had always wanted to develop.

It was an honour that one of my friends asked me to review his MBA essays. I am considered good in English, but it takes far more that some crammed words and exercised grammar to be a good writer, or more so, a correct reviewer. I knew this, and I feared this; and the demon invariably came out when I started reading his essays. They were not what I am used to. They were expressions of facts, and not poetic lyrics. I hate facts, because they are simple and true. The formality of the essays was too good for me, and frankly speaking, beyond my reviewing acumen. I knew the essays were not the best, but they were glorious for me, because I am not good at writing straight facts. For me, two and two is never four. Why should it be? If it is four, then it is Mathematics, not literature. Such views have made my writing unbound, but also corrupt.

Naturally I was not able to add anything to the essays, except amend a few glaring grammatical mistakes. He would have been disappointed, but I was more, because my inability which I had always wanted to conceal was again revealed. I want to be good, nay brilliant, in factual writing. I have taken his essays as the starting point of my melioration. Hopefully in due course of time, I am able to develop not only interest but also flair for that kind of writing.