Small Story 60 Rain Made Miracle

Small Story 60.Rain Made Miracle Ragini was returning home after a lovely evening with her friend when the skies opened up. The auto driver dropped her at a nearby mall to wait out the rain. Inside, she felt the buzz of people escaping the downpour and decided to indulge in her favorite treat: Pista ice cream from Kwality's. As she savored each bite, a small girl approached her. "Hi! How are you?" the girl chirped. Ragini, taken aback, asked her name. "I’m Chandini! I’m waiting for my dad." Just then, Chandini's father, Shantanu, arrived. Ragini's heart raced; he looked strikingly familiar. After introductions, Ragini realized that Shantanu was a reflection of her late husband, who had tragically died in an accident seven years prior. The shock of meeting him stirred memories of that fateful day. But Shantanu seemed different—alive and vibrant, with his daughter by his side. They chatted briefly before the rain let up. Ragini left the mall, her mind swirling with emotions. At home, she recounted the encounter to her mother, Ambujam, who consoled her as memories of her late husband flooded back. The next evening, as she waited for a cab, a car came inside Shantanu offered her a ride. During the drive, Ragini shared her story. Shantanu revealed he was Rohan’s classmate and that Rohan had been deeply affected by the accident, learning of her struggles only months later. As they exchanged stories, Ragini felt a connection blooming. She soon became friends with Shantanu’s wife, Vasanthi, and found herself welcomed into a new circle of warmth and support. Ambujam grew fond of Vasanthi, sensing the bond forming between them. Ragini reflected on how unexpected friendships can emerge from the most tragic events. "I’m lucky," she whispered to herself, feeling as though she had found a younger brother in Shantanu. Life, after all, has a way of weaving new threads into the fabric of our existence, even after loss. K.Ragavan 28-10-24

Tribute to Writer Mahadevan (Devan) 841

Tribute to Writer Mahadevan (Devan)841 Decades ago, the Tamil literary world was enriched by a multitude of talented writers, particularly in the realm of storytelling and comics. Among them, Mahadevan, known by his pen name Devan, stood out as a remarkable figure. In a relatively short span of his career, he established a distinct identity that continues to resonate with readers. Devan's writing was infused with a unique comic sensibility that captivated millions, making his work immensely popular in his time. He was associated with the renowned Tamil magazine Ananda Vikatan for over a decade and a half, a tenure that is commendable in itself. During this period, he authored 20 serials and more than 500 stories, leaving a significant mark on the literary landscape. One of his most beloved creations, the character Thupariyum Shambu, became a favorite among readers, showcasing Devan's talent for crafting relatable and humorous figures. His novels, such as Mythili, Malathy, and Miss Janaki, are treasured works that many readers fondly remember. Hailing from the picturesque Thiruvidai Maruthur in the Thanjavur district, Devan completed his B.A. degree before embarking on his literary journey with Ananda Vikatan. His contributions to Tamil literature, particularly in the comic genre, have left an indelible legacy, celebrating the joy of storytelling that continues to inspire new generations.Today i am happy to pay tribute to this late Legend made a mark in Comedy stories. K.Ragavan 28-10-24

Small Story 59 A New Chapter

Small Story 59. A New Chapter Franklin was astonished by the decision his daughter Nancy had made. “You really took this step?” he asked, disbelief etched on his face. “Yes, Dad,” Nancy replied with a determined nod. She had just decided to transfer to India for her job as a quality controller at a leading pharmaceutical company. This choice came shortly after her marriage to Chander, her colleague, who hailed from a traditional Hindu family. Despite knowing the cultural differences, Nancy adored Chander. His intelligence, charm, and strong values had captured her heart. Franklin, affectionately known as "Frank" among his friends for his open-mindedness, didn’t object to Nancy’s marriage. He had recently lost his wife to cancer and didn’t want to face life alone. Yet, he felt a twinge of worry about his daughter leaving him behind. Nancy also wrestled with the thought of leaving her father alone. However, Chander's mother, Ranjitham, was battling cancer herself, with doctors predicting only a few years left. This weighed heavily on Nancy’s heart, but she chose not to share this with her dad, wanting to protect him from the pain. In her mind, Nancy envisioned a solution. She had a colleague, Sheetal, a widow in her fifties, who possessed strong values and kindness. Nancy hoped to encourage a match between Franklin and Sheetal, thinking it could bring comfort to both of them in their loneliness. The next day, Nancy invited Sheetal over for tea, eager to introduce her to her father. As the three chatted, Franklin and Sheetal found common ground, engaging in lighthearted conversation. Days passed, and to Nancy’s surprise, her father expressed his willingness to marry Sheetal. Nancy couldn’t believe how quickly he had made this decision. A week later, Franklin and Sheetal were married in a vibrant Indian ceremony. Shortly after, Nancy and Chander moved to Bengaluru, where both had received promising job offers. As they settled into their new lives, Nancy reflected on how swiftly everything had unfolded. The secret behind her father’s quick acceptance remained undisclosed, known only to Sheetal, who had mentioned Ranjitham’s condition during their conversations. Franklin didn’t want Ranjitham's fate to mirror that of his late wife, and this realization led him to embrace the marriage wholeheartedly. In the end, all were grateful for this unexpected twist of fate. What began as a daunting new chapter transformed into a journey of companionship and shared strength. K.Ragavan 27-10-24

Small Story 58 Timely Lie

Small Story 58.Timely Lie Madurai station was bustling with activity as Pitchumani waited eagerly for his cousin, Rajamani, who was coming to Madurai for the first time. After a few moments, Rajamani waved from a distance. "Hey, Pitchu! Have you been waiting long?" he called out. "Not too long. What took you? Stuck in traffic?" Pitchumani replied. "No, I started late from home. An old schoolmate ran into me, and we ended up chatting," Rajamani explained. "Is she a friend?" Pitchumani asked, intrigued. "Yes, her name is Shenbagam," Rajamani said. "Still single." "Why?" Pitchumani inquired. "Her horoscope doesn't match with her parents’ criteria." Pitchumani chuckled. "In this twenty-first century, people still believe in horoscopes?" Rajamani shrugged. "It’s a thing. Anyway, let’s get going. It’s getting late." He hailed an auto. "Are you coming to S.S. Colony? Auto driver demanded twenty rupees more from the fare" "Why? It's only 11:30 AM," Pitchumani protested. "I understand, but I won’t get return passengers from there. Everyone uses apps these days." "Okay, I’ll give ten rupees more. That’s reasonable," Pitchumani replied. The auto driver grumbled, "Today’s coffee will cost me a minimum of twenty rupees, sir." "Alright, Raja, let’s just go," Pitchumani said. As they rode, the auto suddenly halted on a bridge. The driver got out and checked the tires, then the fuel gauge. "Sorry, sir, I forgot to fill the tank." "What do you mean sorry?" Pitchumani whispered, noting the line of honking vehicles behind them. They quickly got out and found another auto, albeit at double the fare. Finally, they reached home, where Pitchumani’s aunt greeted him with joy, calling him affectionately "Pitchu." After a hearty lunch, Pitchumani took a short nap. In the evening, his aunt prepared delicious coffee paired with hot pakodas. Rajamani hadn’t seen Pitchumani in years; he was married, with no children. Meanwhile, Pitchumani was nearing forty and still single. "Aunt, why are you delaying marriage?" she asked. "There hasn’t been a suitable girl yet," he replied. Later that evening, Shenbagam visited. She greeted Pitchumani’s aunt, who excitedly introduced her. "Shenbagam, I have a boy here. Our horoscopes match. You can meet my nephew." Pitchumani, working at the post office in Batlagundu, was single and came from a family of two sons with no parents. Shenbagam found his simplicity endearing, despite not being the typical city boy. Within a week, in a simple ceremony, Pitchumani and Shenbagam got married. Two years later, they welcomed a beautiful boy into their lives. Shenbagam’s parents were overjoyed, especially since many astrologers had predicted that her horoscope wouldn't suit anyone. One day, Pitchumani confided in Shenbagam, "I never saw your horoscope, but my aunt had yours, which your mother gave her. With good intentions, she assured your parents that our horoscopes matched." Shenbagam was taken aback. "You mean to say that a little lie was used for a good cause?" Pitchumani smiled. "Sometimes, love finds a way through unexpected paths." Grateful for his life’s journey with Shenbagam, Pitchumani often recalled that challenging auto ride and thanked his favorite god, Srinivasa of Tirupathi for bringing them together. K.Ragavan. 26-10-24

Small Story 57 Judge Properly

Small story 57 Judge Properly Sundaresan sat comfortably in his chair, a steaming cup of tea ready for his friend Kiccha, a talented cook who dedicated his time to a senior citizens' home. His wife, Bhagirathi, emerged from the kitchen, her arms crossed in mild annoyance. "He’ll come, just wait," she whispered, glancing at the clock. Sundaresan smiled. He had a soft spot for Kiccha, his childhood buddy. They had gone to school together, but while Sundaresan pursued higher education, Kiccha faced family struggles that led him to choose a career in cooking instead. When Kiccha finally arrived, he apologized, his face flushed from the rush. "Sorry, Sundaresan. I lost track of time." "Don’t worry about it. I know how busy you are," Sundaresan replied warmly. Bhagirathi entered the room with a plate of Mysorepak, a traditional sweet, paired with fresh coffee. Kiccha's eyes lit up. "This is delicious, Manni!" he exclaimed. Bhagirathi merely nodded, her pride barely concealed. Her background as a judge's daughter often made her seem aloof, a quality Kiccha had learned to overlook because of his deep friendship with Sundaresan. As they chatted, Sundaresan’s phone rang. It was Pattabi, another old friend from his days in college. "Hey, Sundaresan! I just moved back and wanted to catch up. How’s everything?" "All good! Just enjoying some time with Kiccha here," he replied. "Oh, you’re lucky," Pattabi said. "I’ve found a wonderful cook who’s been helping me since my wife fell ill. His name is Kiccha, and he’s been taking care of everything for me." Sundaresan’s heart swelled with pride. He’d already sensed Kiccha’s impact, and hearing Pattabi praise him confirmed it. Bhagirathi, however, felt a flush of embarrassment as she realized she had misjudged Kiccha. "All the fingers aren’t the same," Sundaresan thought, sensing Bhagirathi’s change of heart. It was never too late to amend past mistakes, especially when kindness like Kiccha’s shone so brightly. In that small living room, friendships deepened and understanding blossomed, as sweet as the Mysorepak that lingered in the air. K.Ragavan 25-10-24

Tribute to Director Dinesh Shenoy.

Dinesh Shenoy, a recent National Film Award-winning director for the Kannada non-feature film Madhyantara, has been a prominent figure in the film industry for decades. Known for his versatility and extensive experience in photography, production, and direction, Shenoy is always eager to embrace new challenges. His latest project, Madhyantara, won two National Film Awards for Best Director Debut and Best Editor. Created during the challenging period of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2022, the film stands as a testament to his dedication and creativity in filmmaking K.Ragavan 25-10-24

Small Story 56 Right Chief.

Small Story 56 Right Chief. Ranjitha paced the sleek reception area, her excitement mingling with anxiety. She was at the headquarters of the renowned Investigation Agency, eagerly awaiting her interview with the legendary Chief Paramanand, affectionately known as OO1. Despite her impressive credentials in investigative journalism and an MA in English, the wait felt endless. After thirty minutes, she was finally summoned into his cabin. As she entered, she was struck by his commanding presence. Parmanand, though in his sixties, had a youthful energy in his voice that captivated her. He was impeccably dressed, and his desk was neatly organized, save for a single file. “I apologize for my tardiness,” he said, his tone warm. “I was caught up in a meeting at the Maharaja Palace.” “Of course, sir,” Ranjitha replied, trying to mask her nerves. “I’m here because I’m passionate about investigating crime—robberies, murders. I recently submitted two papers on investigative journalism to an American publication.” Parmanand’s eyes sparkled with interest. “You write about crime investigations?” he asked. “I’ve read your papers. Impressive insights.” “Really? You’ve read them?” Ranjitha was taken aback. “How do you know?” “I keep a close eye on emerging talents,” he replied with a smile. “Your analysis is sharp. I appreciate your dedication.” Ranjitha felt a surge of pride. “Thank you, sir. I believe this agency embodies the challenges I seek.” “Then I’m pleased to offer you a position starting tomorrow,” he declared. “Your patience today reflects your commitment—a quality we value here.” Overwhelmed with joy, Ranjitha could hardly believe her luck. “Thank you, sir! I won’t let you down,” she said, her heart racing. As she left his office, she whispered a silent thank you to her friend Vasanthi for recommending her to this prestigious agency. Ranjitha felt certain that OO1 was the right chief for her. With newfound determination, she stepped into her future as an investigative officer, ready to tackle the world’s mysteries. K.Ragavan 24-10-24