Selected Stories

 

(My morning walker friends are eager buyers of my book; morning walkers in breakfast meet with books in their hands)

1

Poet Ramakant Rath read a story and wanted to speak to me. He did not have my phone number. He rang up Debabrat Madanray, editor, Nabalipi. Debabrat gave him my res phone number. He telephoned to my residence. My daughter, then a student of seventh standard, picked up the call, and said, ‘Bapa is in the office.’

‘What’s the phone number of your Bapa?’ he asked.

‘His seat in the office has changed; I don’t know his new phone number,’ my daughter replied.

‘Which office?’

‘Commissioner of commercial taxes,’ she told.

Ramakant Rath telephoned to the commissioner. The PA to commissioner picked up the call. The PA of the commissioner was arrogant, a perfect Bull of Lord Shiva. He said, ‘Who is speaking?’

‘Ramakant Rath’

‘Who is Ramakant Rath?’ asked the PA.

‘Former chief secretary,’

The PA immediately gave the number, and almost ran to me, and said, ‘Former chief secretary has taken your number; he may talk to you.’                                               

Ramakant Rath spoke to me and praised the story. The story was ‘Pramoda Khudi’, published in the Sambad annual issue, that year.

He also sent a post card letter, appreciating the story.

(The letter of Poet Ramakant Rath)

2

I was working in head office, and sharing a room with an assistant commissioner. The assistant commissioner was a senior man, at least ten years older than me, in age and service. He had interest in literature, like many, when he was a student in the college. But he forgot his interest after he joined the service as many brilliant students did, after becoming officer. After a gap of more than twenty years, he rediscovered his interest and started writing stories. Of course, there were many editors who were eager to publish officers with the hope to get advertisements through them to run their magazines.

The ‘Jhankar’ in its Puja special issue had published my story ‘Lata Apaa, Tukuna O Dustaloka’. The story was about a boy of eleven or twelve years old; unconscious of sexuality, is attracted sexually towards his elder married cousin, and torments himself. The assistant commissioner read the story and castigated me, ‘What kind you story you are writing! A college boy writing for the college magazine.’

I replied, ‘The story is selected by the editor of Jhankar for its special issue.’

‘The editor has lost his mind, the standard has deteriorated,’ he remarked.

I did not argue. One could not argue with a senior who claimed to be Mr. Know All, not only on office matters, but everything including art, literature, painting, science or politics.

After a few days, I started getting letters praising the story, almost daily, some days more than one letter, for quite a few months. I did show him every letter. For some days, he read, and then, he stopped reading. Even, he did not have a glance at the letters.

(Letter of Poet Nrusingha Tripathy on the story, 'Lata Apaa, Tukuna O Dustaloka)

After this incident, the assistant commissioner had not passed any comment on any of my stories. Of course, he never appreciated, but he did not criticize, also.

3

When I was asked to select seventeen or eighteen of all the stories I had written during last thirty-five years, I was in a quandary. How could I select? The readers’ response was not so encouraging for some of the stories I liked when I wrote. I did not have much hope in some stories at the time I wrote, but the readers’ reactions were overwhelming. So, I relied on the readers; I selected seventeen stories, those had received cheering response from the ever kind readers. 

(The Book)

Nirbachita Galpa (Selected Stories) contains the stories, I hope, will get readers’ appreciation after many years.

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