I LOST MY STORY

Loss is not uncommon. The destruction of property and life of people caused in very recent hudhud cyclone in Visakhapatnam in AP is out of our estimate. The casualties or destruction inflicted by an enemy may be considered as minor or tolerable, because we are not bad by nature. it is a great gift for our enemies and pardoning them is also not uncommon.

I am in the police station. The sub inspector looked at me with curiosity.

“What can I do for you?”

“I lost my property Sir.”

I said with a heavy heart as it is unbearable for me.

“What is the value?”

SI asked me as if he wants to know if it is a case worthwhile or not.

“I don’t know sir, it may be a few thousands or in lacs.”

SI looked at me as if confused.

“Just a few thousand rupees or in lacs is confusing! Why do you worry for this small amount?”

“It is not money sir, something above that.”

“I thought you lost property. Now you say, it is not loss of money. Is it gold?”

“No Sir.” I said yet in my depression of the loss.

SI lost his patience. He has big moustaches and he looks like Sandalwood smugglerVeerappan.

“What is your loss?” he asked in a harsh voice as if like a roaring tiger.

“I lost my story. It is more than my property.” I said in a cool tone.

He looked at me as if I am joking. He is really angry on me.

“A story? Are you joking? I can put you under the bars, do you know this?”

“What for sir? I am a right citizen with great responsibility with good track record! I am not a Criminal,
I am the president of the only writers club in the city.”

Now SI looked at me with a little care and asked me what I expect him to do. I said my story published long back is getting ready as a film and I find somebody’s name as the writer. So I want to lodge a complaint on that film maker, who is very popular. I said my intention in clear words with no disambiguation.

SI wondered as if I am really mad. The film maker is more popular than a president of writers club. You know, writers will be mostly either poor and compromising and they are also meek.

“Do you have the copy of your story with you?” He asked as a sensible person.

“No. It is published long back, so I have no copy of my printed story” I said.

“Then I can’t help you. Go and get the copy of your story and also the film script they are making as a film on your story.” SI said.

“They may not give the film script, sir. I can try to have the copy of my printed story.” I said.

“Do that first. If you bring your paper cutting of your story, I will introduce a costly lawyer who can help you by his fees and by his bright ideas. He is No.1 in the city.” SI said.

I could not sense his cynical, bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous thought. I am convinced as if what SI can do when I don’t have my story cutting with me.

I am seriously thinking to get the Xerox copy of my printed story.

***

I visited the office of the magazine which had published my story long back

I am in the busy office, so I have been asked to wait for some time.

It may be three or four hours passed and when I asked about my appointment with the editor, I have been informed that the editor has gone for lunch and he may not come back today. So I also went for lunch for that day and other day, I got the opportunity to see the editor.

The editor heard my story and gave a hot spirited lecture on the thievish mentality of many people including some film producers. Then he said that he needs some time to find out my story as it is published long back and the old magazine copies will be in the store house. So I am advised to call him after few days.

He gave me his number, but I cannot reach him on this number.

I have tried to contact the editor on that number several times, but I was unsuccessful catching him. So I went to his office after few days.

The editor is reluctant to see me, but I did not leave him. Finally he saw me.

“I am trying to contact you by phone only, but I cannot reach you” I said.

The editor asked me to take coffee. As I said that I don’t drink coffee, he is taking his coffee leisurely.

Finally the editor said the truth in a cool and suppressed tone.

“I am sorry, I can’t help you. The old magazines in our store house are completely damaged. Some are eaten by rats and some are made the food of some termites.”

I am completely hopeless of getting a copy of my printed story.

***
I am very sincere. I lost hope, but I want to say this to the SI who asked me to bring the Xerox of my story. So I went to police station.

I saw another writer outside the gate of police station.. He is very popular writer and I read his stories regularly. He knows me.

“The inspector is on leave. What is your problem?” He asked me.

“I lost my story.” I said with full details.

“Just one story?” He asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“I lost ten stories. I came to give to give a complaint.” He said

“Ten?” I wondered as I lost only one.

“Yes, ten,.” He said that somebody published his ten stories clubbed with his (somebody’s) own stories.

I am looking at him with blank looks.

Yes, loss is not uncommon!

-END”

[Note: Both the incidents of loss are real, relate to 1965 and 1985. One of my Telugu stories published in a weekly (now closed) in 1965 is filmed in 1975 which I saw this after ten years. I left this as I thought it is timeout. I saw a story anthology in Hindi in which my translated stories (previously published in Dharmayug & yugaprabhat) are published, in some other translator’s name. I sent a registered letter to the publisher for which neither the publisher nor the translator responded, the original writer of the book (who is a higher officer) wrote a letter, requesting me to excuse this translator and I did not reply.]

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