It is that time of the year again!

To tell you the truth, I was completely taken by surprise when the email from Chris Baty came. It was just a reminder that NaNoWriMo 2007 is almost here.

What is NaNoWriMo?

If you know the answer to this question you can skip reading this part? If you don’t, then continue reading.

In very few words NaNoWriMo is an attempt by all participants to start writing, and finish, a 50,000 words novella in one month i.e. from November 1 to November 30.

What do you have to do?

They say all of us have a book inside us. And I am sure most of us at different times have thought about writing our book, but reasons varying from lack of time to lack of skill have stopped us from realizing our novel-writing dream. If that has been the case with you, then maybe it is time to take up the challenge and try doing it. You have nothing to lose.

My Experience

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and they all ran away like the wind. The ones who had seen, ran fast and, the ones who had not seen ran even faster, for the fear of the unknown is greater than the fear of what is known.

Once the people had run a fair bit they stopped to decide on the course of action to be taken. Some one said that they ought to call a priest so that the ghost could be pacified and sent away, and someone suggested something else. In a large gathering of villagers it is impossible to know who is saying what, and hardly ever does a decision get taken. And if at all a decision is taken, one can be sure that it will be the strangest one. This time it was no different.

In this case, they were agreeing on getting some sticks and stones and guns and every kind of weapon they could think of, to kill a human and also a supernatural being, if the occasion so demanded. They decided to ensure the demise of the ghost of Rohit this time. But, before words could translate into action and actual preparations could be made in this regard, the man himself came there and, called out:

“Hey, why was I in the dead room?”

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As I had mentioned before, in the absence of telephones and many other modern conveniences, the traditional method of shouting from house to house was resorted to, for transferring the news of Rohit’s death to adjoining villages. Soon, a crowd was gathered and in due course news was sent to Rohit’s wife of his demise. She, as often happens in such cases, was the last to know.

She took the news stoically. He had ceased to be any good as a husband a long time ago. Yet, knowing that he would never come back was a shock to her, but it was something that she expected every day. She told the bearer of the news that she would get to the accident site as soon as possible.

As more people gathered, everyone assumed that the one before them had checked on the man and that he was dead for sure. So, a few brave people went down and tied a rope to Rohit’s body and dragged him up the side of the gorge. He was laid down on the side of the road, and since it was evening, no one knew what to do with the body. So they just decided to wait there till someone who could tell them what to do showed up. Usually they just took the body to the burning site, and performed the rites but today it was too late in the evening for a funeral .

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Among many strange incidents that I was a witness to, the episode of the Dead man walking is one of the most amusing ones. It could have ended in disaster but fortunately it ended well for all concerned.

There lived in a small village, nestled in the mountains, a notorious drunk. His wife was almost on the verge of leaving him and he was on the brink of losing his job. If his boss had not been sympathetic to his cause he would have been looking for a new job long ago. The first thing he reached out for in the morning was his bottle. Only when he had some alcohol in his system was he able to open his eyes and welcome the new day, usually, with a song.

In that village there were very few houses with telephones or any modern amenities. An alcoholic, or any addicted person, usually takes away things one after the other from his home to sell and satisfy his addiction. So this man’s, whom we will call Rohit for want of a better name, house had almost bare walls and minimum furniture. Only the kitchen had some semblance of normalcy because the wife would not let him touch anything there. Some money, that she could lay her hands on, was also kept safely there. Thankfully, the bringing up of the children was a responsibility the relatives had taken on themselves and they were doing a good job of it.

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