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Content Tip
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Children's
Story Writing is a good creative outlet and can be used
to inspire others.
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The Hunt
"When we were
children, and lived in South India, we would often play a game called
`poott’’. Leaves were folded until they looked like small square
boxes and tied with thin bands. Six such leaves were then hidden
in a designated play area. Children would break up into two teams.
One team would hide and the other would hunt. Both would take turns.
The team that found the maximum number of poott within half an hour
was declared the winner, and it could make the losing team do its
bidding such as run errands or finish cumbersome school assignments,’’
Maria explained.
"It was actually
great fun,’’ she recalled. "More often than not, the ritual
took place at our house because we had a huge spacious garden,’’
she noted. "Ours was a large gang of boys and girls. It included
my next door neighbours and those from across the street, those
from three houses down the street and some from the adjoining streets.
We would all congregate at 5 p.m. and have two rounds of the game
on most days. My best friend was my immediate neighbour. Her name
was Kalavati. She was a thin, tall, good-natured girl, who always
wore flowers in her hair and who ran very fast. Her sister, Malati
also played with us. Malati was fantastic at climbing trees, and
with her in the team, there was a good chance that some of the poott
had been hidden high up on a tree,’’ Maria reminisced.
"On that particular
day, team A had hidden the poott and team B was looking for them.
Kalavati and I were a part of the latter. Almost 25 minutes were
up and we had searched everywhere. Ratan, Tapas and Santosh had
even climbed most of the trees. Not one of the leaves was to be
found. Normally, we would find almost all of them in about 20 minutes.
The feeling that you are about to lose a game can be a wretched
one, and we were all feeling lousy. Our time was up, and we had
to accede defeat,’’ she said.
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"When Kalavati
went home, she pestered Malati, who had been playing for the
other team, to tell her where the missing leaves were but
the latter would not relent. Kalavati even brought her mother
into the picture. Periamma (aunt) was a wonderful woman who
cooked with pleasure not only for her own children but also
for me and my sister. She made delicious tomato and lemon
rice, and sent us large portions every other day. Aunty decided
not to interfere. I could not get over the fact that my team
had lost for the very first time, that evening. I was restless,
and after dinner, went back into the garden with a torch to
look for the elusive leaves, and guess what?…Kalavati was
also out in her garden. So, we got together, and the hunt
began all over again. An hour passed in vain, and we had to
give up,’’ Maria confessed.
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The next evening,
the victorious team A came to play with a vengeance. "All
the members had a smirk on their faces, and I was getting
more and more annoyed. After all, it was just a game, I told
myself. But poott was more than that; it was a test of the
team’s agility, skill and judgment. I decided to make sure
that we never lost again, and as luck would have it, we managed
to win by just a couple of seconds. Team A had finished its
task in 27 minutes and we had beaten it by ten seconds.
With some of
our egos salvaged, Kalavati and I started walking back to
the verandah where Mom had laid out mangoes to be dried to
make pickle, which is quite a delicacy in south India. Kalavati
bent down to pick one from the mat on the floor, and gave
a gasp,’’ said Maria.
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There, camouflaged
in the huge mass of dark green fruit, lay all the six dark green
poott-leaves. Periamma was looking at the children from the other
side of the hedge and smiling. It had been her idea.
Contributing
Story Teller
Sangita P. Menon Malhan,
I am a short story writer, located in New Delhi, India. For most
of my professional life, I was a journalist with a national newspaper.
I am currently a freelance editor and translator. The stories I
write are primarily for children and the youth. Their readership,
so far, has been Indian, and therefore, the stories have Indian
sensibilities.
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