Pocket Diary

By Chirag Pandya

As I traveled, I collected pebbles, in all shapes and sizes, in shades of rainbow but never colourless, good and bad, trading stories with fellow travellers and shopkeepers.

I never shared them until I stopped collecting and began writing, on paper.

But Pocket Diary is always there, in my bag, to add and collect more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781637141410

Book preview

Poɔket Diary

––––––––

Chirag Pandya

NOTION PRESS

No.8, 3rd Cross Street,CIT Colony,

Mylapore, Chennai, Tamil Nadu-600004

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Copyright © 2020 Chirag Pandya

All Rights Reserved.

NOTION PRESS

ISBN 9781637141410

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contents

Preface.................................1

I. Bindu's Father

II. बचपन की कहानी

III. Unwanted Caller

IV. Chotu Chaiwala

V. हम तो चले पर हमारे सपने ज़िंदा हैं

Preface

As I travelled, I collected pebbles, in all shapes and sizes, in shades of rainbow but never colourless, good and bad, trading stories with fellow travellers and shopkeepers.

I never shared them until I stopped collecting and began writing, on paper.

But Pocket Diary is always there, in my bag, to add and collect more.

I

Bindu's Father

My five-year-old Bindu runs like a pen full of ink without a cap. She tries but she is never able to learn how to put a full stop to her feet. She has now broken my flower vase in which I had kept my savings for the next round of rummy. Every week, she breaks something. Once before Holi, she didn’t break anything. Her mother took her to the village clinic to check if a ghost possessed her or if she had fever.

I knew she didn’t have a fever. I had checked the night before as I did every night when I sat massaging and caressing her head. She was becoming a spoilt queen.

‘Papa ji, I want a Kankan. Meghna has one too.’ She came with a downcast face and put her hand forward.

‘Really?’ I had to put something in her hand as was our custom. ‘I will get a Kankan for my Bindi.’