Tuesday, June 9, 2009



Little Red Riding Hood had a grandma who lived in the woods. So she skipped along merrily with a picnic basket because that's how a happy child lives. There were flowers in the forest and berries, too. There was a big yellow sun and it hung from the sky like a festoon of gold. There was nothing funny happening, but Little Red Riding Hood smiled anyway. It is important to keep appearances when one is visiting a relative with a spotty liver.

She skipped and sang and met no wolf. Which dashed her expectations to the ground. What is life without romance? Without a teasing claw that slashes secret codes of terror upon the silver bark of ageing trees? How boring peace time is! If there are no soft shadows dogging your feet, what good a sun with so much light?

Grandma was a fussy lady who wore bonnets with lace edges. Full-sleeved gowns. Little Red Riding Hood, so bored by her safety, so struck by her lack of panic, set the picnic basket on the table and gave her grandma a half-smile.

But grandma was a wolf, after all. With fur and fangs. And rancid breath. The yellow teeth gleamed so dully. The tail swung like fate. Before Little Red Riding Hood could be pleased about her tragic end, the wolf was upon her. Her red hood hid the last thought that popped in her burning head, "Grandma!"


14 comments:

vishesh said...

Its either amazing , profound balh blah or shallow and stupid blah blah...

Srini said...

I would agree with Vishesh's first statement preceding the blahs :).

And I thought it was beautifully written... sun hanging like a "festoon of gold" - was particularly impressive. The landscape danced in my eye!

Good to read a post here after a while. Cheers GB:)

Prema Joseph said...

Vishesh, my baay, you can call it whatever you like.
Brownie isn't composing a masterpiece on her blog, is she now?
But it's lyrical...and I loved some of the lines.:)

Brownie comes from a family of genii, you know.
There was this write-up of Surjeet's(Rajendran, not Kiddex Barnala) in the P.S.B.B Times, about veg puff/samosa...bagut fandastig hai.
P.S.B.B Times wasn't a 'literary' mag, in any sense of the word, but I still have all those old issues stacked up in my cupboard.
Surjeet(The name always conjures up an image of a guy in a huge turban a la Barnala-ji) would have made a great writer too,
but he finds blowing up the Physics lab at Stanford more...err... soul-satisfying. Sigh!
I wish him the best.
May The Great Lord Jesus Our Holy Father Son of Mother of Passion etc etc help him win the Nobel Prize.

By the way Brownie, does your mag accept electronic submissions?
Is your id moonuncle@moonuncle.com or is it editor@moonuncle.com?

Prema Joseph said...

Does the copyright revert to the author upon publication or does your mag retain all the rights?

GB said...

@Vishesh- It's blah. Not blah blah.

@Srini- Thank you. I was dealing with a few grandmas in the past few weeks.

@Prema Joseph- Prema Joseph is my LKG class teacher's name. Don't write nice things about my brother on this space...you have been warned!! Were you in his batch in school??

My id is myname.mysurname@moonuncle.com. Mail for more details!

Bharathi said...

I am new to your blog. I read all of it in one go. Though your posts are very lengthy some times, the flow of language with natural humor keeps me interested. The way you go out of tradition often, shows me a rebel inside you.
It would be nice if you can post more frequently. You can try doing this even before you become a boss. (super vetty) [see I have read all your posts now :)]

GB said...

@Bharathi- Hey! I did read the wonderful things you had to say about my blog in the earlier posts...thanks! I was busy messing up my life last month and couldn't visit blog space much. Do keep visiting!

Srini said...

ah, I should have thought of that myself. I imagined it to be pure fiction or is it??!!

Good afternoon!

I M Not Prema Joseph said...

Dear Brownie,

Whaaaaaa??? I say, whaaa?!!

You actually thought I was Prema Joseph, your nemesis from St.John's, writing to you??

My dear gael, I know she was your primary school teacher. I also know that she once scolded Kutti Choma for running in the rain and was one of the earliest factors responsible for Kutti Choma becoming a Brownie. (Yes, I know, the word comes from 'Brow' and not 'Brown'. And that reminds me... I've been meaning to ask you for a long time ...Have you and Nivy read Richmal Crompton? Her books were out-of-print for several years. Now they’re back in print and some of them are available in Madras. Choose the edition that has illustrashuns by Thomas Henry. I have the facsimile of the first edition! EEEEEE! A Landmark person promised to let me know when all the 34 are available in paperback in Apex Plaza.)

Have you ever thought what psychological scars anybody who has to go through life with the initials ‘P.J’, would carry into adulthood?? Poor Prema Joseph was probably Mokkai Rani in the attendance register at school.

If you're Prema Joseph, shame on you.
If you're not Prema Joseph, shed a tear.


Immortal lines, those.

I know some of your posts (from your old blog) by heart.

Whaaaa you mean by asking me if I belonged to Barnala Rajendran's batch, I say?? Whaaa an insulashun, I say! I’m not that old, I say!

I studied in P.S.B.B, K.K.N, during the good ol’ stately salmon pink salwar days and not those grey-saayam-pona-yellow striped-hand-me-downs days.

I left P.S.B.B in 1999, after my 10th. I think I must have been a couple of years your senior. You must have seen me loafing around the place in long pigtails. I have worn each one of those insulashuns-to-one’s-self-respect badges there are – Class Leader, Prefect etc etc. I used to host all those dumb middle school debates and stuff. Were you the gael in pigtails who once quoted lines from V.Shantaram’s ‘Do aankhen baarah haath’ in a debate?? Back in ‘98, if you regarded Indhi with the contempt that you do now, well, I don’t suppose it could have been you.

Tell me, why did Reddy Ungil give your mag a Indhi name??

Why don’t you ask your Bossman to change it to NillaUngil?

I rather like the name NillaUngil. It’s waaaaaaay better than MoonMama.

NillaUngil – Whaaaa a name, I say!

The name would zimbly entice one into buying a 40-year subscripshun.

It would zimbly hypnotize one (the same one as the above one) into inundating the inbox of the Dear Associate Editor Ant-y with letters of adulation.

Think about it! (Ha. What a way to end a letter. Ha.)

Best,
P.K

P.S: There’s this t-shirt I once saw... it had the lines –
Jesus Saves.
And so should you.

followed by a picture of a hard disk on it.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Fandastig t-shirt-maker, no?
You ought to get your Stanford Barnala one of those shirts,I say. It will be pleased.

Gymnast said...

Hey,missed your posts. Glad ur back. Hmm, yes , several times the big bad wolf is in the places we least expect , arent they ?
I loved this tale.

Karthik Sivaramakrishnan said...

:)@The tail swung like fate. Brilliant.

GB said...

@Srini- It's the kind of fiction that gets my mum worried.

@Prema Joseph- You are scary. But I am eggstremely habby that you remember my lines and all. What's your name, girl?

@Gymnast- Thanks!

@KS- Hello Mr.Edhirkatchi. Yes, I will buzz you soon. Someday.

Srini said...

I can totally understand, I can, I sure can;)

Kellypsgu said...

I am new to your blog. I read all of it in one go. Though your posts are very lengthy some times, the flow of language with natural humor keeps me interested. The way you go out of tradition often, shows me a rebel inside you. It would be nice if you can post more frequently. You can try doing this even before you become a boss. (super vetty) [see I have read all your posts now :)]